#sigh.... heh what a fucking mess and right before such an important event... i hate when this happens...

[seariii]

"Dazzled" huh.... What a fitting word

[retrogalwrites]

Touya Todoroki x Natsuo’s bride! Reader

Title: “Just say I do” / view on ao3

Summary: Yours and Natsuo's wedding day finally arrives, and Touya wants to see the bride in private.

Sequel to my previous fic "Fool me once, then again and again." I recommend reading that fic first but this can be read as an stand alone

Warnings & Contents: Dubcon, cheating, cuckolding, spanking, masochism, blackmail, breeding, impregnation fetish, creampie, bastard touya

Words:1857

The Todoroki household hadn't seen such a frantic day in a long time, but it was to be expected that yours and Natsuo's wedding day was going to be a rather elaborate event. As soon as the sun was out, everyone was up and about with the wedding preparations, fuzzing over the venue, the cake, the banquet, the dress, every minuscule detail mattered to a family of prestige.

You weren't allowed to see Natsuo until the time of ceremony came, all for tradition's sake of course. Keeping you away of your groom, his mother and sister insisted on staying by your side to get you all ready and perfect for such an important moment of your life, it made you happy to feel like part of their family already. Rei did your makeup while Fuyumi dressed you up, and the sight you made in your wedding dress was one to behold.

Everything was perfect, more than you could've asked for. It was not the privilege and opulence of a wedding planned by the Todoroki family that mattered at all, it was marrying the man of your dreams.

Your heart only longed to see the face of your beloved Natsuo as soon as possible.

But there was someone else who also couldn't wait to see you either.

It only took the moment Rei and Fuyumi had left the room for Touya to weasel his way in without being noticed. Locking the door behind himself, you already knew what he wanted, what he always wanted.

"Are you kidding me? Touya, you can't do this today..."

Your voice was soft, pleading, yet you knew better than to really put up a fight against him.

"Aww, c'mon sugartits, don't be like that."

He was all dressed up too, a black dress shirt with a grey vest that made him look absolutely stunning, and you deeply hated yourself for thinking that. He grinned at you, rolling back the cuffs of his shirt up to his elbows.

"You're going to be off to who knows where by tomorrow, I just want to say goodbye." He was talking about your honeymoon, of course, because you and Natsuo would be taking a week long trip to Hokkaido, which meant that you were not going to be accesible to Touya until then. "You look like a fluffy cupcake, sugartits. All pretty, and dolled up for me."

"This is not for you. God, get over yourself." You snapped at him, but like always Touya was simply amused by your most angry reactions.

"Hey, calm down. You should learn to take a compliment, if I like it then your cute baby groom will love it as well." It was the cheapest way to get you to submit, using Natsuo against you to remind you that Touya had the power to destroy everything the two of you had built.

"Touya, please..."

As an attempt it was useless perhaps, but not trying at least that much would only make you feel guilty for what you knew was coming. He made his way to you, the outline of his already hard cock straining the front of his pants was clearly visible. You hated how your body always reacted to the sight of his cock, knees trembling and crumbling in weakness.

"I mean it, you look so fucking hot right now." Soon enough his arms were around you, he held you in his arms in a tight grip that crushed you against his larger frame. Touya leaned down to kiss you hard, there never was a warning for those things when I came to him. Lips crashing against yours with his pierced tongue already forcing itself between your teeth and into the heat of your mouth.

The lithe muscle eagerly fucked your mouth hole, sloppily mixing your spit with his, almost passing it back and forth, while one of his hands had hastily pulled down the top of your dress, spilling your tits bare for him. Touya was quick to grope one of your supple breasts, roughly kneading the soft mound and digging his fingers into the skin, hard enough to make you squirm and cry softly at the pain. A sound he devoured straight from your mouth as he kept on sloppily kissing you.

You banged your palms against his chest to demand he give you a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, the lipstick that had been so carefully applied on you was smeared all over Touya's lips, which stretched into a wicked grin as he amusedly looked down at your pouting expression.

"You're ruining my makeup, asshole. "

"Right, right, my bad." He was not sorry at all.

Even through the frills and lace of your dress, you could feel his erection poking at your crotch with needy anticipation, and you found yourself quickly pushed towards the opulent vanity where Rei had done your makeup earlier.

Your upper body was pushed down on the furniture's flat surface, eyes facing the mirror on it, while Touya seized your hips with his large hands and forced your perky ass to stay up, pushing back all the layers of the dress to finally bare your backside to his hungry gaze. Touya greedily palmed the supple roundness of your ass cheeks. It was pathetic, how you were hopelessly trying to gather some of your broken pride to talk back, when the only thing in your mind was the feeling of Touya's still clothed cock rutting against your pussy, it was driving you crazy.

"Shit, what kinda whorish bride wears stuff like this, huh? You're such a slut." He hissed, fingers hooked to the elastic around the waist, quickly pulling your panties down to your thighs. Touya whistled, pleased with the sight of your wet, puffy folds. "Natsuo is a lucky man."

"Shut up."

"Hey, if we hadn't broke up, do you think you'd be my bride instead right now?" He sighed, something earnest about the longing in his words made you sick. "Would you've liked that? If I had proposed back then?"

"Touya, that's enou—"

 SMACK

The sound of his hand spanking your ass was loud, horribly loud.

 SMACK

The stinging pain shooting through your whole body had your back arching beautifully, toes curling inside your expensive high heels.

 SMACK

The skin of your ass had already become red and raw, it hurt so much, it hurt so good. You muffled your cry by bitting down your lower lip, but only barely, your quivering voice called his name like a cursed word.

But instead of a response, the only thing you heard was Touya unbuckling his belt, and you braced yourself for what was coming. Without any sort of warning, he angled the supple head of his throbbing, erect cock into your hole, before burying himself deep into the snug fit of your tight pussy. The intrusion was sudden, violent, with him balls deep inside you there was no way you could keep yourself from moaning out loud.

"Ahhh...!"

"Shiiiit...baby..." Touya groaned, mouth open and eyes shut in a blissful expression. Your pussy was just so perfectly shaped for his cock, your slipper walls tight around him like a form fitting fleshligth. He couldn't wait to start moving his hips, fingers gripping your ass as he drilled himself into your welcoming hole. He groaned low and almost feral when he pounded you from behind.

The soft smack of his balls against your bare cunt and the strained moans coming from your trembling lips were almost deafening in your ears. With every thrust, you could feel him hit that spot so deep inside you, that spot he knew better than anyone else, even better than your beloved Natsuo, and you hated him for it, hated yourself for it.

"Heh...you're making such a lewd face right now, you fucking whore." His voice was low and shaky, breath steaming agains your exposed neck as he leaned over to press his chest against your back. "That's right, even now you're nothing but my little whore." A dark chuckle just as his arms wrapped around your frame, hips still thrusting relentlessly into your cunt.

"Shit, you're squeezing my cock so hard..." Touya planted an open kiss on your shoulder. "You like being fucked by another man while your groom is out there, don't ya?"

"S-Shut up!! Please...stop talking...ahhh...and f--ah!!"

It was like begging to be pitied, to ask for respect while moaning every time his cock scrapped your insides into his shape. You covered your face with your hands, the soft fabric of your satin gloves pressed against your eyes desperately trying to block your sight of the mirror, did not want to see the reflection of Touya fucking you raw while you were supposed to be getting ready for your own damn wedding.

Salty tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks, and it took all of your will power to keep yourself from crying.

"If you get pregnant, who do you think will be the father?"

Your body was burning with pleasure, so close to your orgasm.  

"Stop it...please stop it..."

"Is it bad that I hope it'll be me?"

As he said that, or perhaps because he said it, your walls clamped around his cock as you came, your body trembling and shaking against Touya's. He hissed against your ear, and you felt the scorching warmth of his cum shooting straight into the entrance of womb, coating your walls in sticky white.

Touya kept trusting himself into you as he came, as if to push his cum as deep as he could inside you. His words on wanting you to get pregnant by him still ringing in your ears, filling you with am indescribable despair, as well as shameful thrill.

"Let's get you cleaned, before my dad comes looking for me."

Looking at yourself in the mirror then, turned into a mess in your wedding dress, tears finally started streaming down your face.

You heard the shutter of a camera going off, looking over your shoulder you saw Touya holding his phone, as he took pictures of your abused hole stuffed with cum.

"I'll need something to remember you by while you're on that honeymoon."

"Go fuck yourself, Touya."

He chuckled, careless as ever, unbothered by your rage and pain, as ever. After a pause, while he tucked himself back into his pants and you fixed your dress, he asked almost absent minded.

"So, do you think you'll get pregnant from this?"

"Shut up."

"Do you think it'll be mine?"

You didn't reply.

————

Watching you and Natsuo standing by the altar while exchanging vows was terribly dull, more that words could express. And Touya couldn't help himself from drifting to his phone, disregarding the angry glare his father sent his way from his seat a few rows ahead.

Opening his image gallery, he displayed on the screen the picture of your abused sex with his cum, eyes fixated on it, he could feel himself getting hard again.

A satisfied smile on his face, crooked and sadistic, as he heard your voice saying.

 "I do."

[paipayaseeds]

“you can shoot—? w-wait! don’t hurt shuichi!” she let go of his hand and stepped in front of him, blushing as she soon grabbed his fingers with the opposite hand. “it- it was my fault... i-i’m sorry kiibo i... i just wanted to- shuichi- i think- i think i got nervous when you l-looked up my... my dress and-” she didn’t know what she was saying, just trying to form some sort of sequence of events, “i didn’t mean to fall, kiibo! i’m sorry, i-i know i promised and- but i’m okay, my head just hurts a little- j-just stop being so mean to shuichi!” she eventually got out, finally realizing that kiibo seemed to yell at him whenever he was given the chance.

“he’s my- he’s my...�� for some reason, she struggled to say the word, “he’s... my f-friend! and so are you and i- i just want you two to be friends too i.... p-please... we- we shouldn’t be arguing right now- whatever he did to you, kiibo, i’m sure he’s sorry...!”

“what he did to me? fumiko, what about what he did to-”

ding dong bing bong dingdngondhfshfg

fumiko gasped, stumbling backwards into the detective when she heard the chime.

“it’s time for the long awaited class trial!” announced monokid, which definitely took everyone’s attention away from whatever the hell was going on with fumiko and shuichi and towards the screen. she froze in her spot, terrified of what was to come. what if she messed something up? what if she distracted shuichi too much? what if she—?

“no it’s not! we’re just announcing that the photos are ready! stop interrupting me!” the pink one yelled, “anyway, i’ll be in the warehouse.” fumiko tuned out the noises around her, still calming herself from the panic she felt from the first misunderstanding. shuichi had to have been supporting most if not all her weight at this point, she couldn’t even feel her legs. she also hadn’t realized that, when she panicked, she interlocked her fingers with those she was holding, squeezing tightly. her breathing was still uneven, but she was actively trying to calm herself down. no, she wasn’t going to run away, she couldn’t. she made a promise that she was going to stay, and she wasn’t planning on breaking it any time soon.

“hey, shuichi-” kaede spoke, nervously placing her hand on shuichi’s shoulder. “we- um, no- you guys can head to the warehouse! i’ll stay back here and ask some more questions, i think we’re almost out of time, heh...” she gave a slightly sad smile, knowing that she’d only see them for so much longer before...

she didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to the pair as fumiko wordlessly ran out of the room with him, hand-in-hand. kiibo stood there in silence, choosing not to follow them as he didn’t want to make fumiko more upset with him.

she still didn’t realize that she was holding his hand until her palm started feeling sweaty. even sweatier than they felt after her k- accident with shuichi. “u-um... shu...ichi?” she could hardly speak, her voice just barely above a whisper. she cleared her throat as they walked, pulling her hand away and wiping it on the skirt of her dress before instinctively going back in to hold his again. her fingers just barely touched his palm before she hesitated and held his wrist instead. “i’m- it wasn’t your fault- uh- what happened in... there. i’m sorry- i was- i really was just trying to help...” she quieted as they made their way up the stairs from the basement, “i-i get it if you’re mad at me- um- i mean, i hated it, too. but... it was just an accident, right? it won’t happen again....?” she lied about hating it, both to him and herself, convinced that it would make him feel better about it. she thought back to the morning where she’d peppered his face in tiny kisses as they woke up, chuckling softly to herself at the pleasant memory.

soon enough, they were in the warehouse, and the tiny little pink bear was waiting for them.

“ahhh...” she sighed happily, “young love, it really is beautiful... but remember to use protection! wouldn’t want to give birth in a killing game, haha!”

fumiko went wide-eyed, glancing at shuichi, then back to monophanie. “i- we- we’re aren’t- we’re just friends!” she said, still holding shuichi’s wrist tightly. “s-stop...! just give us the damn pictures!” she shouted, a dark blush forming on her face.

she handed them three envelopes, saying there was one for each camera. fumiko was excited to see what they’d been planning, and how it would help them solve this! she eagerly ripped open one of the envelopes, tossing it on the floor as she flipped through the photos.

“h-hey, look! a picture of me falling! gotta frame that one, heh...” she flipped through some more before stopping again, a stupid smile plastering across her face.

“cute...” she thought out loud quietly before showing shuichi the picture of himself messing with the camera, giggling, “it’s shuichi! is he the culprit—? s-sorry... i probably shouldn’t joke about that...”

"I'm not mad at you, but you should be more careful-!" He cut himself off as he realized she was talking about the kiss. He felt his spirits slightly dampen as she confessed that she disliked it, his body reacting accordingly as he slightly slumped his shoulders. So it seemed what he felt wasn't mutual. Well, even so, she had that so-called 'husband' — though he still believes him to be false. "Y- yeah..." Despite finding himself wanting to just look her dead in the eye and say, 'Would it be bad if it did happen again?' he knew that would be crossing the line. So he just, went along with things, as he usually does.

Shuichi immediately started searching through the pictures, flinching as he caught sight of the picture of himself that Fumiko showed him. "A- ah, no that's embarrassing though-" he pitifully laughed, gently taking the photo from her before picking up the tattered envelope on the floor and shoving the picture inside.

Whilst he was near positive that he heard her utter out the word, 'cute', he was unable to react quick enough as she said something else that caught his attention. "Culprit?" He perked his head up, she was probably joking, right-? His expression softened as she confirmed it.

Shuichi forced a laugh as to not make her feel bad; it was alright to make jokes, right? It's good to keep spirits up, especially during a despairing investigation and the soul-crushing reality that they were all probably going to die in this killing game.

His laughing briefly skidded to a halt.

Clearing his throat to fill in the gap of empty silence, he decided to divert both of their attention back to the picture of her falling from the bookshelf. It was... a chaotic picture to put it lightly. Seconds before the crash, more so, the kiss.

Bringing his hand up to absentmindedly fiddle with his lip, he gazed at her with a slightly serious expression. With a soft, but scolding voice, he paid extra attention to his tone of voice, not wanting a repeat of the incident in the dining room. "Y- you really should've been more careful though... What if you got hurt?" He furrowed his brow as he thought further, "Not only that, actually... How- How did you get up there in the first place...? And, um, why?"

There was little to no good reason why she was up there in the first place, let alone why. But even so, he needed to know; not only for her safety and to tame his growing concern, but for the investigation.

"Spare no detail, I- I can understand... Probably. And it might be important to the investigation...!" God, Shuichi stop talking. Honestly, he probably should've asked her from the get-go about how she got up there. One second she was upstairs, another second she was tumbling into his arms from the fucking sky. Maybe she was an angel? Or some sort of godly being... that could perhaps, fly?

Obviously not, but Shuichi's romanticized, and elevated view of her certainly deemed it possible. But I guess this is what happens when you drive yourself insane with the slow burn and angst.

[burning-fcols]

✩ { @sinfulredemptions } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } It’s not fair— Ha; that’s the understatement of the century. Fair is a fantasy. A lie made up by people who don’t want to face the bleak truth about the world. It doesn’t exist. Even if it does, it’s never acheived. Not for him, at least. Never has been, never will. And yet, it’s one of the few coherent thoughts that manage to fill his swirling and throbbing mind, a headache already hinting at his temple thanks to a mixture of reality crashing back down through the previous haze and the knowledge that it’s only one of many to come. How could it NOT be? Val is gonna be on alert now.

He blew it. He was supposed to keep this getting clean shit under the radar and he blew it. Just, perhaps not in the way Charlie thinks... Although, it’s difficult to know for sure. Nothing is betrayed in that concerned gaze aside from worry, wide-eyes darting over to Charlie when she speaks, glossy and filled with an indecision swirling mercilessly in his gut. Should he tell her? Or merely allow circumstances to remain vague. Allow this incident to simply be a matter of him ‘slipping’... It was probably expected of him, anyway. They had stated as much when first discussing tapering down his dependence.

Maybe it’s best to keep the events of today close to his chest...

❝  A-Alright...  ❞  Word is breathed, mouth tugging into a thin line as he winces at his own voice, hating how meek it sounded... How pathetic... Shoulders hunch slightly, arms moving to hug himself, digging into thick fabric hard enough to rip— joining the many other tears he’s had to sew in sleeves throughout the years —gaze averting to the side with shame. Undeserved shame, but shame nonetheless. Stemmed from a life of learning that weaknesses must be masked, that defeats were his to shoulder, and that pain was his doing. Always his doing. Even if he hadn’t wanted to ‘slip’, even if just the thought of indulging in any more of Valentino’s special brand makes his blood boil with frustration— and desire —it was still his fault. Stupid bitch, thinking he could get away with something like this. Thinking he could get better. Be better.

And he had thought Charlie was naive... At least she has the excuse of diving into this kinda shit near-blind. He should know better. He DID know better... and now look at him. Actually feeling disappointed in how things are going down, predictable as it may have been. Actually feeling like- like a failure. It’s enough to cause a bitter quirk of his lips, Angel quietly chuffing with a harsh puff of twisted-amusement at what a sorry sight he must be. What a sorry sight he had BEEN. Fighting and squirming and finally pleading when all else failed, only to see not a single change in that goddamn glowing smile— Blinking dumbly when he feels something soft draped over his shoulders, he starts slightly at the unexpected contact, fur bristling and breath hitching before he realizes what is happening. Fuck. He got list in his own mind again.

Swallowing thickly, tongue nervously flits across his lips as upper hands move to clutch the blanket closer around himself, finding comfort in the extra layer of protection. Of concealment.  ❝  Thanks...  ❞  Is all he can mutter, fur starting to lie flat as he emits a soft sigh, exhaustion already starting to hint Angel’s features, the spider blinking a few times as he feels moisture arise. It’s not fair.   ❝  For y’know... everythin’.  ❞  He doesn’t want to let her down. Words fall thickly, obviously fighting against the waver in his tone. But like most things, it’s not HIS choice. Mouth opens to excuse himself to his room, feigning his tiredness as a simple need for a rest rather than the weight of the world feeling as if it’s crushing down on his shoulders. But words abruptly die on his tongue, evident by the strained, startled sound that escapes his throat when Charlie suggests that—

❝  A-Alastor?  ❞  Angel stammers, body tensing and cheeks dusting with noticeable warmth as wide eyes are riveted on Charlie, mind going in several directions. One, wondering why it is that she was so quick to suggest the deer. And how obvious his growing vulnerability softness towards the other male is to the denizens if the hotel. Not that he’d been doing anything to veil his ease around the ‘Radio Demon’, but for Charlie to suggest Alastor’s prescence at a time like THIS... as if she knows what a relief it would be, what a comfort Alastor would bring when he’s on the verge of breaking down— That hints at a connection far more than just simple ‘ease’; at least on Angel’s side.

Although... he actually doesn’t doubt that Al would come if asked.

❝  I... I don’t think that— I mean, I doubt Smiles wants ta—  ❞  Angel weakly begins, brows knitting and gaze darting to the side as shoulders hunch slightly and lies attempt to slide out his mouth. But they even sound hollow to his own ears, lathered in a poor excuse for deceit. Swallowing, gaze moves to the other side, as if trying to check and see that no one is near enough to overhear or expecting a deer to make an appearance as if summoned by thought alone. Or by the noticeable breaking in his voice...   ❝  That’s... That’s real sweet of ya ta offa’. Babe. But I’m not- heh... I’m not in th’ best headspace right now. An’ I— I can’t have him seein’ me like this... I jus’- I...  ❞ 

But he wants him. God does he want Alastor just to be near him. Just to see him... To hear him... He needs him.

Which is why it’s so important that he doesn’t allow the deer to see him in this state. He’s not certain he could keep from breaking, from shattering into a unappealing mess if given that source of comfort. If feeling that sense of safety, uncertain as it may be... What if Alastor thinks lesser of him? What if Alastor doesn’t WANT that side of him? Who would? Doesn’t want the confused, frightened, broken, PATHETIC— What if Alastor decides he’s no longer worth his time? If he spills out the disgusting truths churning and clawing inside of him... there’s no taking that back.

There’s no going back.

❝  I- I can’t... ❞  { ☆ }

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (24)

I can’t believe we’re alone

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. 

Word count: 4,875 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up right after Drake and Amara take off for the cabin in Portavira, starting with Maxwell’s POV.

*****

‘Alright Amara, that sounds good. Yep, you two get some air, ok? We’ll be fine. No, no, don’t worry about us, I promise, Bertrand and I are gonna take good care of Hana. Love you, see you tomorrow!’

Maxwell hangs up, and turns to Bertrand and Hana, seated on his left in the towncar.

‘Are they ok?’ Hana asks.

‘They’re fine! They’re going to Jackson’s cabin in Portavira until the event on Monday. Amara needs a breather, and I think Drake too.’

Bertrand nods. Maxwell had expected his brother to protest, but ever since they’d talked about their father together, something in him had changed. ‘Then they need to do what’s best for them,’ Bertrand chimes in, surprisingly.

Max is taken aback, but he smiles at his brother. ‘Yeah. That being said, Drake wants to grill tomorrow night and he invites us over, that way we’ll be that much closer to Penelope’s estate.’

‘Oh my God that sounds great!’ Hana says excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see the cabin!’

Max glances at his brother, who is suddenly looking out the window, his lips pursed. ‘Bertrand, Amara said you’re invited. Come with us!’

His face lights up, and Max’s heart sinks. How many times had he excluded his brother, simply because they didn’t have the same notion of fun? Bertrand clears his throat and says ‘I unfortunately cannot. I’m, um… I have to meet with Prince Liam tomorrow in the late afternoon. About Father and how to go about it.’

Max nods. He and Bertrand had discussed the matter, and both agreed that it was time to stop the blackmail. But first, they needed to talk to Liam and make sure they did it right. After that, they would find a time and a way to openly discuss their father’s secret with the court, and the country, which would allow them to both stop paying off Albert --and, most logically, to let him go--, and to advocate for LGBTQ rights. Max had suggested that they give the money that served to buy Albert’s silence to an association. Bertrand had loved the idea. Of course they wouldn’t be able to do it every month, but once in a while was important.

Max was not surprised that his brother was supportive. Ever since he’d told him about their father’s secret, Maxwell couldn’t stop thinking about the year he came out as bisexual, to both his dad and brother, when he was 18. He was terrified of their reaction, but Bertrand had been nothing but supportive, and although talking about it made him blush, he even encouraged Max to bring his girlfriends or boyfriends home as he pleased. Their father simply gave him a pat in the back, and told him this only sentence: ‘You are who you are, son, in the privacy of your own life.’ Max had always thought it was because his father did not want a stain on their reputation. But now he knew he was hurting from his own lie and simply didn’t know how else to deal with it.

As a result, Max never really came out publicly, just to his friends, and whenever he dated men, he did so in a discreet manner, avoiding the spotlight. With his party boy reputation, he was sure that, if he was ever caught by a photographer kissing a man, it would just be shrugged off as ‘Maxwell Beaumont is so silly! He kisses boys when he’s drunk, what a scamp!’

Max didn’t care, though. His friends knew him, he knew himself, and that’s all that matters.

But maybe this was the moment? Maybe not. If he came out publicly now, some old school, ignorant bigots would probably claim that queerness is hereditary, and that would hurt the cause more than help it. Maybe he’d be public about it one day, but not now. He didn’t feel the need to, anyway.

Max was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that they had arrived at Ramsford. It would be weird to be here without Dramara. In such a short time, Amara had become so important to him, like a sister, the sister he never had. Funnily enough, if he had had one, he would have never been able to sponsor Amara for the competition, and the rest is history.

‘Are you alright, Maxwell?’ Hana asks sweetly.

He squeezes her hand and responds, ‘Yes hun. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s go have fun!’

*****

Olivia looks at her phone. Her fucking phone, the origin of all this bullshit. A text from Amara, after dodging about 4 calls from her. She wasn’t the worst person to talk to, far from it, but Olivia just didn’t feel like talking right now. Still, she opens the text.

Wanna come to Drake’s cabin tomorrow night for a barbecue? You can stay over, the whole gang is coming. Please, Liv?

She rolls her eyes, but quickly responds.

Yes. Stop harassing me, I’ll come.

The dots appear, and soon another text.

Ok, I’ll leave you be. Just please tell me if you’re ok, and please promise you’ll call if you need anything.

She rolls her eyes again, but deep down, she’s grateful that someone’s in her corner.

Yes and yes.

Without giving Amara any more time to respond, Liv throws her phone at the bottom of a drawer. She doesn’t want to see it right now. She hates to admit it, but the perspective of slumming it in a dirty cabin tomorrow is refreshing. She needs out of this mess, even if it means staring at Walker’s antler collection.

As she’s about to get into more comfortable clothes, she hears a knock. ‘Liv? It’s me.’

Liam. Just who she doesn’t want to see.

But she’s gonna have to face him at some point. ‘Come in.’

As he carefully enters her room, she corrects her posture, and makes a point of maintaining eye contact with him. Fake it til you make it, right?

‘How you holding up?’ he asks, while closing the door behind him.

‘I’m fine.’

Was she, though? She’s not ashamed of having casual sex with a hot man who happens to work for her, not at all. She’s not one to be bashful about those things.

No, that’s not what’s bothering her. She saw Liam’s face fall when he opened his envelope. She saw the disappointment. So sure, she could be mad at him for taking her for granted all their lives, and for holding up to a double standard. As Amara pointed it out, he’s upset at her banging someone else when he has a literal litter of women pursuing him? That’s not fair.

But she knows he knows. She knows he realizes why she’s banging Ilya.

To forget him, to pretend that everything is ok, even if he doesn’t choose her, even when he doesn’t choose her.

That’s not how a Queen would deal with things.

‘Liv, tell me the truth. We both know you didn’t do anything wrong, but it can’t be easy, having your private life broadcasted like that--’

‘I’m fine, Liam,’ she repeats, her tone as cutting as possible.

Liam throws his hands in the air and responds, ‘Alright. Whatever you say.’ He gestures to the ottoman next to her bed, and raises his eyebrows at her. She nods, and he sits down. ‘I, um… I’m sorry that happened, for what it’s worth. I’ll do whatever it takes to find who did this.’

‘Liam, we both know who did this. Madeleine.’

Liam nods. ‘She’s part of it for sure. But I discussed it with Drake and Amara, and they both agree that she couldn’t have done any of this alone. Logistically, it’s not possible.’

‘No shit,’ Liv says. ‘Ask yourself the right questions, Li.’

‘What do you mean?’

She sighs. ‘Just be careful who you trust.’

He nods, visibly not comprehending everything. ‘You’re right.’

She can tell he’s watching his mouth around her, he’s tiptoeing around the problem, and it kills her. Fuck it, she thinks. She’ll just ram right into it.

‘Not much of a royal attitude I have, huh?’ she asks bitterly.

Liam chuckles, and looks at his feet. ‘I don’t know why you’re saying this. You can do whatever you want, and in fact, you know as well as I do that many nobles are not monogamous, so…’

‘But they don’t really fuck the help, do they?’

She didn’t mean to sound so condescending. That’s not her. She doesn’t look down at commoners the way that Neville does, for instance. But it just came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She’s not going to correct herself, that’s not her either.

‘Liv, I don’t judge you. I promise. You and I never established--’

‘Yeah yeah, I get it, we never had anything worth keeping. Now please get out, I’m tired. I won’t join for dinner, but tomorrow I’ll be at breakfast. Bye, Liam.’

He opens his mouth to respond, but quickly gives up, sighs, and heads towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow, Livvy.’

As he closes the door, tears flow to her eyes. He hadn’t called her that since childhood, since their sleepovers. ‘Night, Livvy,’ he would say, while they were counting the stars on his bedroom ceiling.

No, she won’t cry. Not today. She can still breathe.

*****

Drake can already feel himself relax as they’re getting closer to the cabin. He can tell that Amara is relaxing too, judging from the way she started to chat excitedly once they were about half an hour away from the capital.

‘Look at these birds, Drake! So pretty!’

He turns his head towards her, and smiles upon seeing that she is peacefully smiling at the fauna they are passing on the country road. Part of him was scared that she wouldn’t enjoy the countryside, what with her being a New Yorker, but he can see that he was wrong.

‘I hope you like the cabin,’ he says. ‘It’s very remote but it has everything we need.’

She nods. ‘Of course I’ll like it! I’m not in a state of mind to complain about the lack of wifi, believe me. I’m excited to get away!’

Drake chuckles. ‘Heh, there’s actually wifi in there, you know. I’m there quite often and I like being able to watch movies and TV shows. So you see, it’s more modern than you thought already!’

She smiles and takes his hand, placing it on her thigh where she grips it tightly. ‘Thank you for taking me, Walker. It’s exactly what we need right now.’

‘You’re welcome, it’s literally my pleasure. I’m looking forward to just us.’

‘Me too. Just us, no talking about anything upsetting, ok?’

He nods enthusiastically. ‘Absolutely. No investigations, right?’

‘I’m putting all of this on hold, I promise,’ she responds. ‘Can I just ask you something, one last thing, before we get there?’

His heart tightens. ‘Tell me.’

She sighs deeply. ‘Do you think our friends are ok? I think Hana is, but Liv? Max and Bertrand after all the talk about their father?’

‘I think so. Max is stronger than you think. It may look like Bertrand is the rock of the family, and in a lot of ways he is, but Max is emotionally very strong. Healthy emotions, no repression.’

Amara nods. ‘I see that. I just…’ she shakes her head and stays silent.

‘What babe? Tell me.’ He squeezes her hand.

‘I know Max had a complicated relationship with his father, and he told me that when he came out to him, Barthélémy’s reaction was...underwhelming. Now that we know what we know, there’s definitely a lot to unpack there. I wonder if Max needs to talk about it. I just want to be there for him the way he was for me. For us.’

There it is. Amara is such a good friend, she tends to put herself second, Drake knows that about her already. ‘You are there for him, Suarez. You’re just taking an evening off. We’ll see them tomorrow. He’s not alone.’

He’s squeezing her hand still, eyes on the road. He doesn’t want to look at her, because if he does right now, he may never look away again. His hand feels warm, entangled with hers, and he has trouble defining what he feels. Warmth, happiness maybe. A furious need to be there for the woman he loves and admires so much.

A ravaging fear of letting her down.

*****

‘This is amazing, Drake,’ Amara whispers as they both walk into the cabin.

She takes it all in; the wood panels, the rustic, simple furniture, the smell of fresh air and lavender. She noticed tons of lavender everywhere in the front yard as they got out of the car.

‘Really?’ he asks, visibly nervous.

She knows he has always compared himself to Liam, and that he has an inferiority complex. She just has no idea why. No one could look at this amazing man and think he’s inferior to anyone.

She has just walked in, and yet she feels a thousand times more at home here than she has ever felt in the palace. Or even in her own apartment in Brooklyn, which had always felt like the wrong place. The only place she had ever felt this way about was her parents’ house in the Philadelphia suburbs. A small, modest house, but in a nice neighborhood, and with a huge backyard where she and Sergio would run around when they were kids, and later on, lay in the sun with books and drinks. Their dad still lived there with Nancy, he never had the heart to sell it, and probably never would. When you lose so many people, you want to hold on to the feeling of truly belonging somewhere. That house was like a family member.

That’s how she feels now. Like home.

‘Yeah, really,’ she replies, a little twinge in her voice. ‘I love it.’

Drake rubs his neck awkwardly and smiles at her. ‘Do you want a tour? I’ll give you some toiletries and maybe some clothes until Max brings your stuff. Sav still has a room here, and lots of things in her closet.’

Amara nods. She closes the distance between them and grabs Drake’s hand. ‘Thank you,’ she whispers in his ear, before kissing his neck. ‘I’m not sure we’re gonna need clothes, but ok.’

Drake’s face breaks into a wide grin, as he captures her lips into a deep kiss. They both lose themselves in the moment and Amara feels her head spin. She throws her arms around him, and he pulls her closer.

‘Fuck, I can’t believe we’re alone,’ he whispers, his voice raspy.

Amara has to stop herself so as to not rip off his shirt. After all, this is the finest denim, it should be treated carefully. With shaky hands, she impatiently unbuttons it and throws it on the ground, before pulling off his T-shirt. She’d missed feeling him close to her. Ever since the wave of paranoia, they had barely had the opportunity to be alone, and even when they were, they had to be careful.

No more being careful here, though. Drake responds by unzipping her floral dress and letting it drop to the floor, without ever interrupting their kiss. She can feel his hardness against her, and she can’t wait any longer to set it free. Her hands explore his stomach, then venture south where they undo his belt and unzip his jeans. Amara can’t help but let out a moan upon touching his big, hard cock. She wants it, she wants him really badly. She pulls down his boxers, and lets her hands roam all over his naked body.

He guides her to the kitchen island, a square, wooden cabinet on which Drake hoists her up swiftly, still kissing her. Once she is seated, he spreads her legs open with a movement of his knee, and Amara feels her core burning. She grabs his cock in her hand, drawing a low groan from Drake, and proceeds to pull her own panties to the side. He stops her in a swift hand motion, and pulls down her underwear so quickly that a yelp escapes her mouth.

With one hand on her pussy, he unhooks her bra with the other, and then caresses her breasts softly and lovingly. Amara can’t take it anymore, she’s so wet that she’s worried she will flood the island. ‘Fuck me,’ she whispers. ‘Please.’

He slides two fingers inside her at once, and explores her core in circular motion. She moans tirelessly, hungry for more.

‘You’re so wet,’ he whispers into their kiss.

‘I want you,’ she groans, impatient. ‘Now, Drake, please.’

But he continues to tease her clit with his thumb, his index and middle fingers still inside her. She bucks her hips and grinds his hand, moaning louder and louder. His impossibly hard cock is resting on her thigh, and she feels him getting impatient too, as he pushes himself closer and closer to her. Finally, he puts his tip on her entrance, and Amara can’t help herself but moan loudly in relief. She needs him now, why is he making her wait?

When he pushes himself into her, he lets out a long and deep groan, as if he had been waiting to enter her for hours. She would like it to last, she really would, but she is so close to orgasming from the anticipation, and she knows he’s close too. Too bad, she thinks, they’re gonna have to do it again later and savor the moment more. For now, she wants him to fuck her senseless.

*****

They had come together and it had been mind blowing. Still giddy and shaky from the orgasm and the closeness he had shared with Amara, Drake poured two whiskeys and smiled as he watched her put her dress back on.

‘You look beautiful,’ he says.

‘You look beautiful too, Walker,’ she responds playfully.

He walks towards her and kisses her on the lips as he gives her a glass of whiskey. He felt totally relaxed. Not to mention it felt good to be as loud as they want. No more muffled sounds, no more stress about who might hear. Over here, no one could.

Even the location of the cabin was pretty secret, as it was not on an official road. You’d need to know where to go. Max knew, of course, and so did Liam, but that was about it. Drake wasn’t even sure if Liv had ever been here.

‘Do you want to go sit in the backyard?’ he asks.

She nods, excited. ‘Yes! Let’s enjoy the sun.’

They had to wipe down two chairs; Drake hadn’t been at the cabin in a while and everything was covered in pollen outside. He couldn’t stop smiling, he was simply loving life too much right now. What more could he want? He was away from everything, with the woman he loves.

‘What’s up with the goofy grin, Walker?’ Amara asks cheekily.

Drake chuckles. ‘You know exactly what’s up.’

‘Oh, you’re feeling smug because you drove me crazy and made me wait forever?’ she responds with a grin.

‘Heh, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Suarez.’ He takes her hand and kisses it. ‘It’s just that… you know.’ She raises an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. He obliges. ‘I love you.’

Her face lights up. ‘I love you too.’

They sit outside, side by side, their whiskey in hand, for a while. Then, Drake breaks the comfortable silence. ‘I didn’t even give you a tour.’

‘I saw the kitchen island, that’s all that counts, right?’

He laughs. ‘Do you want to see upstairs? It’s not much but…’

‘I’d love to see upstairs. Let’s go.’

He guides her to Sav’s room first, and shows her to the clothes she’s welcome to borrow. She looks at the framed pictures of the two Walker kids, tracing the frames with her fingertips, not saying a word. She stops at a group photo, including a younger gang: Max, Drake, Liam, Kiara, and Savannah. ‘Wow,’ she says, ‘you know this pic is old when Maxwell doesn’t have his hippo tat yet!’

Drake laughs heartily. ‘Exactly. We were kids.’

‘You were cute. Very broody. Just like now…’

He shows her his bedroom next, the same one he lived in on weekends when he was young. He changed it all though, he didn’t keep it intact the way Sav did. He wanted this place to make him feel like an adult, unlike his room at the palace, which made him feel like a teenage mooch. He’d thought of taking the master bedroom in the cabin, now that his dad had passed and his mom was back in the States. But he couldn’t bring himself to move in. Couldn’t get past his dad’s lingering presence, which made him ache still. So, he had turned his teenage bedroom into something more adult, with fewer posters and more artwork, a bigger bed, better sheets, and even a loveseat for when he wanted to read in the evenings.

‘Drake, this is beautiful,’ Amara whispers. ‘Very nicely decorated, and so tidy. I’m impressed.’

‘Did you expect a bachelor pad?’ he asks, a smile on his face.

She laughs. ‘Not really. I know you’re tidy. I just expected something different. More of a time capsule, less of adult you.’

He nods. ‘I do what I can.’ He smiles at her and wraps his arms around her. ‘The bathroom is next door, feel free to take what you need. Mi casa es su casa, ok? I’m gonna go to the store to get some food for tonight and tomorrow. Any requests?’

‘Just one,’ Amara responds, her face lighting up. ‘Can I come with you?’

*****

Olivia had ventured out of her room right before dinner to get some food. She’d thought of asking Ilya to bring her some, but she didn’t feel like talking to him today at all. He’d called her several times, but she didn’t pick up, so he’d sent her many apology messages. She’d reply another time. She didn’t want him to feel guilty about something that had never been wrong to begin with.

She wasn’t even hungry, so she’d pecked at her food while she was watching Killing Eve on her iPad. Something about assassins helped her relax.

When she heard a knock on her door, she debated playing dead. She was sure it was Liam again, to try and convince her to come down for dinner. She was in no mood to talk to him again.

‘Liv, it’s Rashad.’

She sat up, startled. She and Rashad were far from being close, but they respected each other, and enjoyed each other’s company at official functions, as two cool, cynical people. Maybe he wouldn’t be annoying, who knew. So, for some reason, she went and opened the door.

‘Hey Liv,’ he says nonchalantly, ‘can I come in? I come bearing gifts.’ He holds up a plate of pastries and a bottle of vodka.

‘Fine,’ she responds coldly, even though the sight of the vodka made her heart skip a beat. She was almost out of scotch, so this was good timing.

He closes the door behind him. ‘I won’t pry, I won’t ask questions. Let’s just gorge on éclairs and drink the entire bottle of vodka. Ok?’

She takes one too many seconds to respond. ‘It’s 7. You should be at dinner.’

He shrugs playfully. ‘Eh, I’m not in the mood. All of the interesting people are gone someplace or other tonight. I was starting to regret staying at the palace, but then I remembered that at least, one interesting person remains. Hidden, here, in your lair. So, here I am.’

Liv represses a smile. ‘Fine. But we’re watching my show.’

‘What is it?’ he glances at the screen. ‘Oh, Killing Eve. Love it. Do you have any glasses?’

Olivia nods. ‘Yes. Glasses are over there. Make mine a triple.’

*****

‘We have to buy these. Oh, and these!’ Amara gestures at all kinds of cheeses.

Drake laughs, ‘Hey, hold on, we’re gonna need a bigger basket if you continue.’

She pouts, ‘But the cheese… we can’t get anything that good in the US!’

‘Ha, I know. Alright, let’s take it all. If you and I don’t eat it, Max will tomorrow.’

Amara was delighted. Sure, it was a simple grocery store, about twenty minutes from the cabin, still in the middle of nowhere in Portavira. But that’s exactly what she loved about it. No frills, no court, no bodyguards, no one watching them, just Drake. She was dying to do more normal people stuff with him, was aching to get away from it all. She was still feeling guilty about leaving Max, Liv, and Hana when they needed her, but the guilt was starting to fade away as she felt more and more comfortable in this new, amazingly simple routine with Drake.

He’d chosen fish fillets for tonight, that he would bake in the oven, accompanied by rice and vegetables. She was enjoying looking at him, at how happy he was, conceiving a menu and describing to her how he would cook the ingredients. He also picked up hamburger patties and sausages for tomorrow’s barbecue, as well as some crudités and snacks. Eggs for breakfast, bacon, fruit. He was thinking about everything.

‘Do you want me to make a dessert for tomorrow?’ Amara asks.

‘If you want to, that would be great,’ he smiles as he’s putting peaches in his basket.

‘I could make a pineapple cake,’ she says excitedly.

‘Sounds awesome.’

She kisses his cheek, excited to be a part of the hosting process, even though she is fully aware that Drake is enjoying himself doing all the prep. She can’t help but imagine what life could be like if they just escaped court, and had a regular job, without any blackmailers or sneaky bodyguards. She lets herself dream for now, because she knows in a couple of days, they’ll have to report back to Penelope’s, and by next weekend, Liam will have chosen a Queen. Amara tries to chase all stressful thoughts from her head. Maybe everything will fall into place, that’s what she needs to hold on to.

*****

‘The sexual tension is phenomenal,’ Rashad murmurs, absentmindedly biting into a small puff pastry.

‘Shh,’ Liv says, ‘you’re misreading the show, so shut up.’

Rashad scoffs, and pauses the video, to Olivia’s dismay. ‘Hold on,’ he slurs, already drunk after three very generous shots of vodka, ‘are you telling me you’re not watching this for the character interactions?’

Liv rolls her eyes. ‘No. That’s unimportant. What matters is the murders, Rashad.’

He giggles. ‘Oh, Nevrakis. You are definitely something.’

She tries to stop the smile from reaching her lips, but she can’t this time. The vodka, the sweet, sweet murderous TV show, the pastries, and Rashad’s comforting presence are making her feel warm inside. She almost presses play, but hesitates. Finally, she says, ‘Thanks for coming tonight. I, um. I thought I needed to be alone, but I appreciate the support.’

He nods, finishing his shot in one gulp. ‘Of course. It’s appalling what they’re doing.’ He puts a hand on his mouth. ‘Sorry kid. I said I wouldn’t talk about it.’ He makes a zipper gesture on his lips.

Liv sits up. ‘No, it’s fine. I started talking about it. You can. I’m an idiot who fucked her bodyguard and sexted with him, please chime in.’

Rashad grabs the vodka and pours a shot for Liv, and one for himself. ‘No, you’re not an idiot. In fact, I think you’re as far away from being an idiot as humanly possible, you know. The blackmailer, that’s an idiot. Or several idiots. Like, outing a person? That’s fucking horrible. That can ruin a life. And then what, broadcasting nude pics of someone else?’

Liv laughs. It’s funny how she never stopped to consider how Ilya felt about his penis being printed and distributed to everyone. She’d have to check in with him later. ‘You’re right. Thankfully for him, he’s well endowed. Otherwise it could have been embarrassing.’

Rashad laughs earnestly. ‘Right? I mean come on, the people responsible for this shit are really backwards. They think being gay is a scandal. They think casual sex with the bodyguard is a scandal. You’re above that, Liv. And if that whole thing prevents you from moving forward in the competition, well you deserve better than this country. Than--’

‘Than Liam?’ she interrupts.

Rashad falls silent for a few seconds. She caught him off guard. ‘That’s not what--you know I meant no disrespect. I know you two have history.’

She nods. ‘You know Amara, right?’

‘Yeah. The American woman, very nice. Spoke to her before brunch.’

‘She agrees with you. She thinks I deserve better. I never stopped to think about it in those terms before she mentioned it. And now you mentioned it.’

‘Again, Liv, I meant no disrespect.’ His words aren’t slurred anymore. Olivia can tell he feels bad, and it sobered him up.

‘No worries. I’m starting to get it.’ She chugs her shot, and gestures for Rashad to pour her another, which he does.

‘Cheers, Nevrakis,’ he says, raising his glass.

‘Cheers.’ She turns off her iPad. She needs something else right now, something to keep her mind off of all the shit that’s happening. She thinks of Little Beaumont and his answer to everything. She shrugs. Maybe he had a point. No harm in trying, right? ‘Hey Rashad, wanna play Never Have I Ever?’

*****

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