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cupid-styles · 6 days

Note

bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?

pink pony club

in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

Harry doesn’t care much about his job.

He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen.

His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive.

Unless Y/N is working.

The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception.

He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl.

When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little.

If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted.

He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.

Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall.

“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”

Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”

Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two.

“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”

The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.

“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”

“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense.

“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”

“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”

“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it.

A small, quiet whimper of his name.

Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”

And just like that, he does.

He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers.

“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”

“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”

“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.

“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”

She nods. “I know.”

“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”

Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.

“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”

“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.

They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.

Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.

“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.

“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”

Y/N nods. “One.”

Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be.

“What is it?”

Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight.

“Do you like it?”

Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.

“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”

“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”

“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh.

“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”

That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”

A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth.

"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs. “Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips. He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth. "Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck." She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?" She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth. "No. I like it." "Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want." "I'm not lying, I promise. I like it." Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then." As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions. "I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies. "Yeah? What else do you like?" "You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.” "Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?” She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?” She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.” He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me." She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it. Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them. "Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”

She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core. "Tell me you'll moan for me." "I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue. Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension. It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips. "Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess." Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down. "You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles. Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up. “Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.” She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?” “Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”

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fireflysymphony · 3 months

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Oh my god your Aventurine x Bodyguard!Reader so good I have to give you so many praises for that! But I have to ask… if you can may I please hear your thoughts on Aventurine with a Reader that he adores to take with him to the casinos as like a lucky charm but in reality he just absolutely loves to show off that they are partners, if that’s alright please and thank you! I hope you have a wonderful day today!

Aventurine showing off reader

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! I really enjoyed writing it, and seeing someone else appreciate it makes me really happy. Here are some of my thoughts! I just love this man an unhealthy amount. I hope you enjoy this <3

Word count: 1.6k

Content Warning: GN! Reader, suggestive but mostly a crazy blond and some fluff, mentions of alcohol, not proofread, hope you enjoy <3

Headcanons

Long before the two of you began to date, he’d take you to his casinos with the intention of scamming you out of your money and possibly getting you drunk and taking you home with him later that night.

He got it in his head that it would end up like one of those sexy pornos where once he gambled you out of all your money, he’d seductively lean down and whisper in your ear “All your money’s gone, a shame angel, but let’s have one more round, yeah? If I win again, you’ll have to pay me back with something more… intimate.” And then he’d win and take you home with him to get his “payment.”

It never ended like that though. You were either too smart to gamble with him, or your teary eyed, defeated face once he won for the third time in a row would break his heart in a way he didn’t like or fully understand, so he’d stop himself from sucking you dry of anymore cash. And the next day you would find the money you lost plus some extra back in your bank account. He hoped you never found out that your tears were the only thing to melt his heart in a long time.

If you so much as mentioned not going with him one day, you’re in store for another one of Aventurine’s famous tantrums. This is when the phrase “good luck charm” started getting thrown around. You jokingly told him to get another person who throws themselves at his feet to be his lucky charm, and he lost it.

“No, no, no! It’s you that I want with me, nobody else! You're my good charm, singular! Please, come with me, angel, please!”

You didn't know why because you thought that’s what he was doing anyway since he often canceled your casino dates. In reality though, when you weren’t with him at night, it was because of dangerous work he didn’t need you getting involved in.

Most people who visited the casinos regularly already thought you and Aventurine were dating for multiple reasons. He always had some part of him touching yours whether it be a hand on the small of your back or him leaning on you whenever he was a little tipsy or bored of a game. He never let you pay for anything while you were with him, and despite being a rich man who could definitely afford two cocktails, he’d much rather hold his up to your lips and watch you drink from his glass. Aventurine wouldn’t let anyone approach you, especially if it was someone he had to confront for work that night, and if anyone tried flirting with you, they’d be out of luck, out of money, and out of a life depending on Aventurine’s mood. He didn’t like things that belonged to him being touched or stolen.

Safe to say, most people had pretty good evidence to conclude that you and him were together.

As you can imagine, this only got worse when you became official partners since Aventurine didn’t have to hold anything back. Your seat wasn’t the one next to him anymore, it was in his lap. He didn’t need to hold himself back from kissing you, and conveniently he mostly did it when other people were watching him. Before each round of poker, he’d ask you for a good luck kiss to bless his hand which lasted a little too long for everyone’s— but his— comfort.

Pretty much everyone knew that you weren’t just a good luck charm but a prize for him to show off, and he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Anyone who knew what was good for them backed off from trying to pursue you, and those brave souls who didn’t were in for a treat because Aventurine LIKED having them stare…. When he was in a good mood anyway. Bad mood, jealous Aventurine was a different story, but he’s for another day.

“I like it when they look at you, dove.” “But they look at me like you do.” “Exactly. But I’m the only one who gets to have you, pretty thing.”

Right after kisses, his eyes go straight to find the men he knew were into you, wanting to see their disappointed faces. He’ll even let them chat you up before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you. To him, crushing them emotionally was far more entertaining than outright killing them. This only goes for when you’re dating though. As stated before, Aventurine hated the thought of someone taking what he owned, and since you didn’t know you were his yet, he had to dispose of anyone who thought they had a chance.

It hurt him that the only place he could show you off was at the casinos. He owned them, so nobody was going to try to harm you unless they were prepared for the weeks long torture he had in store, not even the IPC spies he knew were around were safe from his wrath. To the IPC, you were nothing more than one of Aventurine’s ordinary flings, and he wouldn’t let anyone see past that facade, even if he wanted to rub his relationship in Topaz or Ratio’s face.

—-

“You always win, so I don’t understand why you need me here every night, wouldn’t you rather bring someone who’s unfamiliar with your tricks to scam?” You asked him one night before the two of you were officially a couple. He took you up to one of the VIP rooms, a few people mingling and chatting over cards around you. The two of you got a couch to yourself, yet Aventurine had an arm around your waist, not allowing an inch of personal space despite the size of the sofa. Aventurine was bored of the easy fish at the casino tonight. The card shark didn’t like his prey to fall too easily unless it was you, but you weren’t interested in losing any more money to him tonight..

“No, I’ve told you before! You’ve never seen me lose before, doll. Isn’t it obvious why? Because you’re lucky!” He answered, taking a sip of his third glass of champagne. He acted a lot more honestly when he was tipsy, his conniving grin never left his lips though, so nobody could tell how serious he was. That was if he let himself get tipsy in front of anyone but you— which he didn’t. You were the sole one who got to hear his slightly slurred speech and, on particularly rough nights, his lack of inhibitions.

“If I’m so “lucky,” why haven’t I beat you yet?” You hummed, shivering at the amount of money he’s coerced you into betting, yet somehow you’re more well off now since you met him than ever before.

“Because you’re my good luck charm, you have to find your own; I’ve sucked you dry of all your lucky, so nobody else can have you.” He waved his hand in the air like it was the most obvious explanation in the world before leaning his head on your shoulder, his glasses sliding down his nose and letting you see his pretty shining eyes. “You’re only mine to have, do you understand that?”

All you could do was sigh and fix his glasses. He was prone to say stuff like this when he was drunk and when he was sober too but it was worse when you had a little alcohol in his veins. Aventurine’s normal flirting was so teasing that you could chalk it up to him being just that, a teasing flirt who did this with everyone, but when he was tipsy or drunk, a serious edge pierced his words, a large contrast from his usual over-the-top teasing. You couldn’t trust that either. “You’re drunk, Aventurine.”

“Maybe so, but you still don’t understand, doll.” He took off his glasses, tossing them next to his empty glass on the table. He laid himself down on your thighs, his head turned away from you to face the rest of the room. When he was normal sober Aventurine, you didn’t take his advances seriously, and when he was drunk, you still didn’t take him seriously. It was annoying! Did he just give up? Was this a bet lost?

Sensing an incoming tantrum you set your hand on his hair, playing with his blond locks. You bit your lip, already regretting the ego boost you were about to give him. “…Now that I think about it: maybe I do have a good luck charm.”

The way he jolted up gave you an idea of where this was going, so you braced yourself for the storm about to hit. Shit, pouting might have been easier to sit through.

“D’awwww! Lovemuffin, do you mean it?! Really?! Say it again! Come on, say it to me again!” He somehow wormed his way onto your lap, poking at your cheek in eagerness. His legs straddled your waist, and everyone in the small quiet space turned their heads to look at you.

“What are you doing? Stop, get off of me! no-no it isn't you!” You shrieked, batting his hands away from your face as you shook your head. Now you really regretted saying anything. “You’re making a scene!”

“Sure it isn’t! Aren’t you just the most adorable thing, such a sweetheart to little ol’ me!~” He threw his arms around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He took back everything he previously thought. No matter what you were going to be his! “But if I am your lucky charm, I don’t think I’m working. You always lose!”

“Shut up, Aventurine!” You grumbled, hugging him back with a tenderness your words didn’t hold. Was it possible his words weren’t all faked?

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this more fluffy Aventurine post! Whether it be the sexy or scrunkly menace, I hope you enjoy him! <3 thank you to the requester for this idea

Requests are open!

#star rail aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #hsr x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #fluff #suggestive #aventurine #honkai star rail #star rail x reader #star rail

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sorrowfulmuse · 7 months

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honey, could you write headcanons of tomas (smoke) in love with mileena and kitana's little sister? If you can and want to, of course.

♡:: tomas vrbada (smoke) x fem!reader hcs!

> i will be yelling my man my man my man!!! until the day i die!! 😩 i am so obsessed with this man you don’t understand!! i am so glad they brought him back for this timeline i missed him so 😞

> update (10/07/23) i am sorry for taking forever with requests! just been busy with life!! i will update all the requests today and tonight pls look forward to it!

thank you for requesting love!! i hope you enjoy! pls don’t forget to like & reblog! ☺️

are your requests open?: of course! read this before requesting!

♡:: mentions/warnings: none!

tomas is the DEFINITION of love! oh man oh man oh man, when i say he’s in love, HE'S IN LOVE!

he would adore you until the end of time if you would let him, he would worship you as if you’re the only girl in the world

this trope is like how he fell first and you fell harder! or for tomas, its both.. he craved to be in your presence and savor it every time he got to be with you

you were the sun, your eyes held the universe within them.. he looked at you as if you hung the stars and the moon.

it is no lie that tomas is a kind soul, he is genuine and very caring with everything he does with you. he cherishes the time he gets to spend with you and gets sad when he has to return to his clan while you are off to your royal duties.

or also.. his favorite times with you would be walking along the rivers of edenia, talking about your day and what’s been new since your sister became empress..

though talks wouldn’t last long since he would stare at you for so long that he would forget what you’re taking about which would end with scolding from you and makeup cheek kisses from him

he would openly show his fondness for you! seriously no amount of teasing from the guys would stop him from doing so.

though mileena and kitana aren't exactly fond with your relationship with tomas, you're an outworlder while he was an earthrealmer so the relationship was doomed from the beginning they said.

you both never saw it that way despite your sisters doubts, "it's just a small obstacle, nothing more." he would whisper to you.

tomas is VERY protective of you, he lost his family and a brother.. there is no way he ever wants to lose you and dreads the day if it were to come.

visiting earth realm? expect him to be your side 24/7!! he is YOUR bodyguard wether your sisters like it or not, he doesn't trust anyone else to protect you expect him and his brothers clan

he LOVES cuddles and no, you never will leave his arms per his request (not that you wanted to anyways)

he loves to traces his fingers along your arms and sides to help you relax after a long day

or he would help bathe you, gently scrubbing your head and massaging your shoulders as you rant about anything on your mind.

imo marriage doesn't really cross his mind until kuai lang's was announced and THEN he would have a field day imaging you walking down the isle and living the married life with you

he wouldn't bring it up at first until you do tbh, he's scared of your sisters disapproval if he were to purpose the idea to you or them

although he would go look for rings, you did deserve the best of course so finding the right one was pressuring enough

tomas would def daydream about your future together

little mini yous and hims running around your home, teaching your children how to read, write and especially how to fight in order to protect themselves

he would do very romantic things for you, leaving earth realm flowers for you on your bed.. love letters and drawings of you from the last time he saw you

he does idolize johnny cage so he would try to get some advice on how to wow you on your next date together (johnny would give him ideas from old rom-con movies which he appreciated v much)

tomas would vow to himself to make sure you that you know in every possible way that he loves you and only you, nothing can cut the string of fate between you both

darling, tomas wants nothing but you, give him some love and reassurance in return and he's yours until the end.

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callmerainman · 2 months

Text

No Derogatory Nicknames | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

pairing. sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

plot. You're the one and only member of the Royal Family's official army, and you were given the first, vital mission in your lifetime as a bodyguard. Surveilling the First Man on Earth, Adam. Reincarnated in Hell. You and Adam agree on two things: you can't stand each other, and you would never sleep together.

word count. 3.3k

tags. Hazbin Hotel ep8 spoilers!, enemies to lovers, Adam reincarnated as a sinner in Hell.

tw! cursing, Adam being Adam, mentions of sex

part. 1/3

The Royal Family’s official army was a millennium-old institution, skillfully trained through the years to protect Lucifer’s family from potential threats. Except that the army has lost its prestige a long time ago, and you’re the last unit left. You joined the army a short time after your death. It was princess Charlie Morningstar who guided you towards that decision, after finding you lost and scared, wandering around Pentagram City. The infernal princess didn’t specify that the army was dismantled hundreds of year prior, and that it was just an excuse to convince Lucifer to give you hospitality in one of their mansion’s rooms. In the end, the King accepted to make you a bodyguard. You went through trainings, trials, impossible challenges. All of that to…guard Lucifer’s rubber ducks. Boredom wasn’t ignorable. So when Lucifer asked you if you could take on a really serious mission, you accepted immediately. And your task really was important.

Guarding Adam, the First Man on Earth. Reincarnated in Hell.

After wandering for days around Pentagram City, just like you did, he asked the Hotel for help. E promised that he would change. Charlie, being Charlie, couldn’t deny him a chance. But Lucifer didn’t trust him, and accepted his permanence at the Hotel only at the condition that you would be guarding him. And that’s how you arrived at the Hazbin Hotel, how you met Charlie’s friend and especially…Adam. You immediately regretted the rubber ducks. Adam accepted in turn the idea of being watched, but he detested it and didn’t hesitate to let you know. He was as old as the Earth but as immature as if he was born yesterday. Arrogant, hot-headed, presumptuous. He made your job impossible, but he was clever enough to not show it too much to still stay at the Hotel. You were the opposite of patient and dealing with him was troubling. Talking back to him corresponded to a reaction. For example he never spared himself from letting you know how much he did NOT want to sleep with you, because of how much he found you insufferable.

“I have other priorities, instead of being approached by your teeny-tiny thing” you said.

“Hey! You can only dream of having a taste of the original dick!” Adam said, pointing a finger to your face.

And Adam hated when you followed him around town, with your angelic spear always clenched in your fist. He would always mumble insults under his breath, to which you responded with the same medicine. For example when you accompanied him to the few music shops in the city to fix his electric guitar that he would always break out of frustration of being here.

“I’m here only because Lucifer asked me, ‘cause otherwise I would have already called Nifty to repeat the job” you hissed between your teeth, sticking your spear towards his face.

Adam would hunch forward in an attempt to intimidate you “Oh yeah, go get her, so you can show your Hell Daddy how efficient of a bodyguard you are!”.

And you couldn’t do nothing more than sighing, squeezing the spear in your fist because you knew that Adam was right and you couldn’t do anything about it. You always looked forward to nighttime so that you two could separate and go to your respective rooms in the Hotel. Even the guests were relieved, because your bickering was daily and their ears were filled with your insults thrown left and right. Adam, although he was the one who knocked on the Hotel’s door, wasn’t too fond on participating in its activities. He didn’t get the benefit of Charlie’s exercises, and that anguished him because it seemed like the road back to Heaven was far away. Even there, your duty was to encourage him in participating. And your patience with the First Man was running out, so you had to do so by growling between your teeth to be proactive.

“I get it, bitch” he would whisper, enough to be heard from you but not by Charlie. And then he would improvise some sort of low effort answer barely sufficient to make Charlie happy.

You started to get the feeling that some of Charlie’s exercises were specifically aimed at making you and Adam get along. You had your confirmation when once Charlie called only you and Adam, letting you sit together on the couch. Adam’s fists were clenching in correspondence with his knees.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

You crossed your arms on your chest, cocking an eyebrow. Charlie laughed nervously, feeling a growing tension.

“Uhm…see this as a sort of…couple therapy!”

You and Adam, in tandem, erupted in a disgusted groan. His new wings, now turned black, ruffled and pointed upwards in a synced motion with yours.

“WE’RE NOT A COUPLE!” you two shouted in unison.

“I know, but you’re always together and…”

“WE DIDN’T CHOOSE IT!”

Charlie agitated both her hands “But you need to stand by each other, and I would like for you to do so without fighting every time! There must be something you get along in, right?”

You protruded forward “The only thing we agree on is that we would much rather die for eternity than being close to each other”.

Adam raised his arms to emphasize your words “Exactly, I would rather be stabbed again by your filthy janitor than sleep with a pain in the ass like her”

“What did you just say?!”.

Charlie, seeing you two jump towards each other to fight, threw herself between you both to avoid it.

You couldn’t sleep that night. With your head plunged in your pillow, you smothered screams of frustration. Adam, Adam and again Adam. He fluttered in your head with hammering insistence, tormenting you even in moments of relax. Why was he always traveling in your head? Why did you keep visualizing his dumb fucking face when he insulted you in the most disparate ways? Fuck, he knew how to get on your nerves even in dreams.

———

“Adam!” Charlie stops the fallen angel in the Hotel kitchen. He was filling his bowl with milk and cereals.

“Yeah, brat?” he replied.

Charlie sighed “What did we say about nicknames?”

Adam rolls his eyes, bringing a spoonful of cereals to his mouth.

“No ferogafory nifnames” he slurs, his cheeks full.

“Exactly!” Charlie claps her hands “anyway, I need you to do me a favor. You should go grocery shopping for the Hotel”.

Adam raises a brow “Groceries? What am I, a-“

He interrupts himself when his eyes meet yours behind Charlie’s shoulder. Where did you come from? In any case, your gaze is as furious as always. He’s pretty sure that he never saw you peaceful in all his permanence in Hell. Your fuming look is enough to make him desist, so he sighs.

“Alright. And I suppose that Mrs. Spear-Up-My-Ass is going to come with me”.

“Of course (Y/N) will go with you, you’ll shop together” and Charlie adds a hopeful grin.

“How fortun-OH”.

Without noticing, you appear on Adam’s side, a reassuring look on your face but reserved only to Charlie.

“Don’t worry Charlie, I’ll keep an eye on him”.

“Can you not stick your shitty angelic spear in my fucking cereals?!” Adam cusses.

Nervously, Charlie smiles “Of course (Y/N), but I’m pretty positive that Adam won’t cause any trouble”.

You shrug your shoulders “I dunno, I don’t expect much from a dirtbag of his caliber”.

Adam drops the spoon in the bowl of milk, cereals spilling out of it and one of them hitting your cheek

“What, you old hag?!” he screams.

“Old, me?! You’re literally as old as the Earth!”

Charlie puts her hands in her head, desperate “Just go shopping for fucks sake!”.

Half an hour later you and Adam are walking down the streets of Pentagam City. He was bragging about the time he broke the record of bras thrown on stage during a gig he performed in Heaven. Now that you think about it, Adam played in a band when he was up in the skies. And he has an electric guitar that you always accompanied him to fix. By the way, you never stopped to ask yourself what kind of music he listened to, or what genre he played. That’s because you never thought there was something worth to know about Adam. You turn around to look at him in the eyes. When he talked nonstop, without insulting you, his face was more relaxed and in a certain sense a bit more pleasurable to look at. Two big, curled horns sprouted on his head when he reincarnated, you grabbed them so many times while fighting.

“And what did you play with your band-“

“We’re here”.

You stop. You look at Adam, you didn’t realize that you reached your destination. Maybe you’ll pick up the conversation later, maybe not. Why would you want to know more about the Exterminator? You shove a hand in your pants pocket and you take the list Charlie prepared. You put it in Adam’s hand, and you turn around.

“C’mon, go inside”.

Adam frowns, puzzled.

“Wait, you’re not going with me?”.

Adam plants himself in front of you, trying to read your face. He wants to know if you’re making fun of him or something like that. But he only finds embarrassment, as you try to avoid his analysis.

“Do you need me to hold your hand or you can handle it on your own?”.

For a second, Adam’s eyes widen, then a sly smirk crosses his face.

“You wanna hold my haaaa-“

“No” you stop him “and that’s why I’m telling you to go alone”.

Adam shrugs, he looks amused.

“Okay, I’ll treasure this opportunity to get away as far as I can from you”.

And so Adam goes. You realize that all the time you tried to avoid his eyes, your face was burning. You didn’t want him to see even a drop of trust in your eyes, not even the tiniest amount sufficient to let him go grocery shopping. So you stay still outside the supermarket, your angelic spear hidden between your wings to not catch passerby’s attention. Time goes by, and soon Adam will finish. But Adam doesn’t come back. You decide to wait a little more. Then you hear sounds of shouting inside the supermarket, an argument between two men. A carousel of possible scenarios displays in your mind. Adam who calls the cashier a bitch, Adam who yells to the staff because they’re out of ribs. You immediately dash inside, almost smashing through the automatic glass door. You follow the sound of screams, and you find Adam. It’s just not the scenario you had predicted. Adam has his hands raised in front of a bull-like demon, who has a fist directed towards him.

“I recognize you, you know? You’re that shithead from the Extermination”

Adam, visibly pissed off, still keeps his palms open “Hey asshole, I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

It’s when the other demon jumps onwards to attack Adam that you throw yourself between them, your spear pointed towards the bull.

“Don’t fucking touch him!” you yell.

Your chest rises and lowers wildly with every breath. You can’t see it, but Adam’s eyes are incredulous. He looks at his own chest, your free arm is pressed against it, pushing him back in protection. Your teeth are gritted, your horns grown exponentially. His cheek tickles because one of your wings is brushing against it with ruffled feathers, and his skin starts to warm up because your hair caught fire. Adam saw you enraged so many times, usually because of him, but never like this. In the end, the demon gives up, taking a step back from your tended spear. He grunts and takes his leave, fists still clenched but not a menace anymore. You finally relax, the fire in your hair suffocates, your wings recollect themselves and your horns shrink back to their original size.

“Ehm…what the fuck happened?” Adam asks, trying to find your eyes. You run away from them as always.

“Don’t ask questions”

“I thought you were supposed to protect others from me, not me from others”

You press your lips in a thin line, and walk towards the checkout with the shopping bags Adam dropped.

“It’s not like I can leave you moribund on the floor of a supermarket with the possibility of you respawning somewhere else in Hell where I can’t supervise you. Let’s get back to the Hotel now”.

Adam follows behind you, and you know he’s smirking. He steals one of the shopping bags from your hand, and takes your side.

“Well, what were you about to ask me outside? You wanted to know about my band in Heaven?”.

Back to the Hotel, you’re welcomed by a wide smile from Charlie. Just seeing you two walking close without fighting signs on your bodies means a lot to her.

“Sooooo, how did it go?” she asks, sliding in front of you.

You and Adam exchange a quick glance, then you shrug “He almost got jumped”.

“Oh c’mon!” Adam exclaims, raising his arms in protest.

“Why so?” Charlie asks.

“A total asshole almost recognized me” Adam says.

“It’s not a secret that you reside at the Hotel, and someone might not like you” Charlie adds.

“I don’t like him-“ you convene.

“We know, (Y/N)!” Charlie sighs “and because there are sinners like you who, rightfully so, don’t like Adam, we need you to be close to him. Even because we can’t risk Adam using his powers, it could be trouble”.

You stop to reflect, meanwhile Adam puts the grocery bags on the kitchen counter without saying a word. Now that you think about it, Adam didn’t use his powers. When he reappeared in Hell, although with less capacity, he still kept a great power. He was prohibited from using it at the Hazbin Hotel, but anyone would have used them in a situation like the one that unfolded at the supermarket. But Adam didn’t do nothing. He just raised his hands, limiting himself to only cuss at the potential aggressor, and then you intervened. Did he internalize a Hotel lesson?

“No, Adam didn’t use his powers. We gotta give him credit for that” you say.

Adam freezes as he opens the fridge to organize the groceries. You can’t see him, but he’s delicately blushing.

“That’s awesome!” Charlie chirps, happily “It’s a great step forward, Adam!”.

“Mh yeah whatever” Adam brushes it off.

“And you Adam, did you see any quality in (Y/N) that you previously ignored?” Charlie asks, full of hope.

Adam looks at you. You press your lips together and for a moment you hold each other’s gazes. You feel yourself palpitating, and it bothers you.

“She was cool I guess. Cool-ish. And she got interested in my band. But that’s natural, all bitches are interested in my band”.

“Adam, nicknames!”.

Adam raises his shoulders “If (Y/N) doesn’t mind, I’ll go to my room”.

“Me too” you assert.

You wave at all the guests in the lobby, Angel Dust has a weirdly wide smile on his face, almost amused. You go up the stairs, following behind Adam. His arms fall on his side.

“You wanna follow me to my bed?!” he says.

“I’m going to my own room which happens to be next to yours, asshole!”

“Yeah yeah, it’s more likely for Mr. Deer over there to cross the Pearly Gates than me letting you have a piece of this” Adam replies, pointing both fingers down to his groin.

“I don’t even want it!”.

Downstairs, Angel Dust looks at everyone with insistence. Husk is confused, Alastor simply disinterested, and Cherri Bomb appears to already know what the spider demon is about to say.

“Is it me or I sense a certain sexual tension?” he finally says.

Vaggie, Husk and Charlie sigh in resignation. Alastor decides that it’s time for him to get up and leave. Cherri Bomb, on her part, chuckles.

“Yeah I think it’s only you” she says.

“If you sense sexual tension between them I think you got a serious problem, Angel” Vaggie says.

Angel bursts out laughing, throwing himself back on the couch and crossing his numerous arms behind his neck “I bet good money that those two will end up going at it within a week”.

Before they could realize it, all of them were already placing a good amount of money on bets. All pointing towards a no. Angel Dust is the only one convinced of his vision. That between the Royal Guard and the First Man, climbing up the stairs next to each other with annoyance, there could be something that keeps you close in a different way.

———

Adam stops in front of his bedroom’s door. He opens it, and you walk towards the door next to it which is the one for your room. But Adam clears his throat, staring at an indefinite point in front of him.

“Uhm…can you come here a sec?”.

You raise a confused eyebrow, and you cautiously walk towards him. You should be holding your angelic spear, but you left it aside. You stand behind him, and Adam turns around to face you.

“Yeah?” you question.

Adam looks at you, and you raise your chin to hold up his golden eyes. This time you see the flushed red on his cheeks, and his embarrassed expression.

“Well…thanks for today…I guess? This is how Lucifer’s brat wants me to talk to you, right?”.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your hands start to fidget. It’s not difficult to look at Adam when he’s being like this.

“Yeah, I don’t know, whatever. Don’t expect things to change” you reply.

Adam scowls, and moves closer to you.

“Of course not, you’re still a world-class pain in the ass”.

“And you’re still a fucking jerk”.

Your foreheads are almost touching, you can feel his breath on your face. You notice it too late. Why aren’t you backing up? Shouldn’t that be easy? Your heart is racing again.

“And you’re still a bi-“

“Hey” you interrupt “Charlie said…”.

Too close now. As always. You and Adam have always been close. In a different way. And you always wanted to leave. But not even Adam is moving and his gaze softens. He’s looking at you intently, he’s burning and doesn’t know what to do and at the same time he seems convinced on something.

“I know” he says, with half a tone “nicknames should not be um…”.

He stumbles on his own words, you’re now chest to chest, and you try to help him out “Nicknames shouldn’t be de…” you have trouble too.

“Deroga…tory…” he mumbles.

You lean in. And without premeditation, there’s a kiss. Strong, desperate. Your lips intertwined, your hands in his hair and grazing his horns, and his own hand placed on your waist. He doesn’t need to pull you closer, you already were. You don’t have time to breathe, your kisses are too persistent. A couple of moans escape you both, out of confusion and satisfaction. Now your arguments all look like a joke, because it’s obvious that the sexual tension Angel Dust envisioned is an undeniable reality. Despite spending months repeating that it was something that would never happen. And here you are, clinging to one another, making out. And it feels good.

When you separate you meet his eyes. You expect something terrible. Disgust, or that he stays true to his word and strays away. But you don’t see any of that. Only disbelief, and a sort of epiphany that encourages him to encapsulate the nape of your neck with a hand.

“Shit” he says.

“Shit” you convene.

And then you throw yourselves against each other’s lips again, and Adam drags you inside his room. You let yourself be taken away, and you shut the door close with a kick.

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antidesire · 1 year

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2:32 antidesire

bodyguard!leon x afab socialite!reader

disclaimer.. 18+ only. knifeplay, blood, licking.. blood mentions/paranoia of drugging but i promise no drugging happens. brat reader, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, fucking against a wall? in an alley? don’t pay too close attention to the lore i try and establish please hhh it’s so jumbled + i wrote this when it was super late and i haven’t double checked everything.. heh. cr to original owners of the pictures. reblogging, interacting and sending feedback is always much appreciated !! ♡

you had been to hell and back, seen the strongest of men turn into frail cowering children, knees buckled by utter fear as the flesh was torn from their bones by the rotting dead that kept walking.

raccoon city should've been your end of the line, dying alongside your prestigious family. onlookers of the media at the time treated it as a miracle but you saw it as it was, cruel, how do they expect one person to keep up appearances and high morals being the last standing of your perished family line? it was so tiring..

one man you had met those faithful 6 years ago had saved your life, leon s kennedy, just a rookie cop at the time- not only once had he saved your life but then a further time, putting his own life on the line with an agreement to become an agent and vouch that you and himself would stay silent about raccoon city upon taking this deal and if all else fails, he would be executed with you.

things had gone well for a good chunk of time, give or take about 4 years but word had gotten back to some more important people that you were quite the partygoer and quite the gossip when intoxicated, not a swell combination for your dangerous predicament and prying ears.

thus much to your surprise you had been assigned a bodyguard, one to help keep your mouth shut for the sake of the government and for the sake of your own safety, unbeknownst of the length powerful people would go to for even a slither of knowledge on what you saw that hellish night.

to leon kennedy, this was one of his easier jobs, babysitting some rich bigwig? pft, he'd take that any day over undead corpses or diseased cultists.

when he was informed it was you he felt all the waves of emotions hit him in the face, that night whirling through his head like a fresh wound, seeping behind his eyes to remind him of the horrors he'd seen.

suddenly it was all the more serious now, this was your life and his own on the line.

at first, you had been ecstatic to reunite with leon once again, barely recognizing him when you first opened the door, what was once his youthful puppy-dog-like features had become much less soft, his brows had furrowed, jaw much sharper and his eyes looked much more sunken, what you remembered him as, a once fresh-faced young man, cute and hopeful as ever he had become much more hardened, though he had seemed to lose that glow, it was unmistakenly leon, long eyelashes, plump lips and that faint dimple indented into his chin. leon now exuded confidence to the point of cockiness. he was handsome, oh so very handsome and his physique was so firm, you had to many a time drag your attention away from his arms, you never knew you had such a thing for bulky arms until leon was around.

with leon around you weren't afraid to admit you were having the time of your life pushing the limits.

life for you had been a whirlwind, to the public (though things had much cooled off) that knew of your family business and prestige, they had been told lies, that you weren't even in the city with your family that disastrous night which is how you survived.

your days were the same, with countless 0's in your bank account and fake friends to encourage you, you spent most of your nights under those same electronic lights, the bass of the music booming in your chest and burning alcohol slipping down your throat.

maybe you had been a little oversharing with some locals, you didn't recall, far too heavy on the bottle of champagne some man would attempt to win you over with.

tonight was no different, other than the bar you were visiting- leon had convinced you that if you wanted to be drinking it could not be so locally anymore- and this time leon kennedy was in tow, your handsome chaperon, or more accurately, your muzzle from here on out.

“shall we make this fun?” you proposed to the man, “make up a story, maybe you’re my long lost lover? my secret affair? or do you want me to pretend i hate your guts, are you into that?” you giggled, amused at your own antics, seemingly only making leon chuff out a chuckle, arms folded over his chest with a solemn expression.

“mmh, what sucked the fun out of little leon, huh?” you jabbed your finger against his chest.

leon’s head titled at that, eyebrow raised and an expression that insinuated you knew exactly what happened after that night and why he consequently carried himself as such, so professional, or dull, that's what you'd call it.

with the sickly sweet aroma of your perfume in the air and the glistening twinkles of your outfit invading every ounce of his senses, the two of you walked one by one into the bar, quite the opulent one, hefty diamanté chandeliers alongside mirrors upon mirrors framed with the most delicate gold casings.

"y'know you're getting paid to live lavish right now, leon?" you cooed out, heels of your shoes tapping against the marble flooring, hearing his boots following behind.

"it's an easier job as an agent but i'm not being paid to indulge like you do." he corrected you, voice hushed with the assumption and guard that prying ears could never be far.

"am i boring you already, handsome?" you twirled around, the agent halting in his tracks, craning his head down to meet your gaze, eyes as big as cherry pies, tempting and permissive.

"i was hoping we could celebrate this reunion, despite circumstances." your hands reached up, flattening down the collars of his crisp grey dress shirt, the black blazer on top fit so snug on him, arms as though they were bulging or maybe your brain was just getting ahead of itself.

"with your mouth we're dead men walking, what's there to celebrate?" he referenced why he was called out here for you, breath hot, fresh from that pack of gum he stuffed in the back of his pocket.

"then even more so, that's what i say." you patted your palms to his shoulders, feeling the plush material of the suit jacket, turning on your heel, and pushing past the lush double door entrance past the hallway and into the bar.

the live music was in full swing and the tabletop of the bar was well occupied, having to push your way past, your hand coming up to gesture over the bartender, "give me your most expensive, delicious cocktail.." you whipped your head around, eyes clearly looking leon up and down, "you look like a whiskey guy," you thought aloud, turning back, "and a whiskey."

leon didn't even attempt to stop you, it was futile and he knew you were just doing it for the fun of it, "so ya gonna sit there and stare down at me all night like a creep?" you sat on one of the chairs at the bar, you leaned in to whisper- though ultimately just as loud, "you're not being very agent-like."

"c'mon, i told you, we need a cover story, who knows how long you'll be stuck with me till i'm in the all clear." you pulled his arm in an attempt to move him closer, luckily he obliged, taking up a seat next to you.

"being in the clear is not being stubborn and quitting visiting these bars, drinking every night, and running your mouth." he mumbled, glancing around.

"nu-uh, you heard what they said, they've always been worried about certain people in the area being a threat to those with information on racco-" your words morphed into a yelp, a sharp sting arising in your leg, blinking at the two fingers pinching the flesh of your thigh.

"did you just-" your outrage was cut off once again by the bartender placing two drinks in front of the both of you, leon nodding towards the worker and wording out a thank you, his palm now engulfing your thigh and rubbing the irritated skin.

your lips parted to speak but no words came out, leon seemed to have noticed this, fingers clutching around your glass and gesturing for you to take a sip, and you did, sugary syrup mixed with a double shot of liquor sliding down your throat.

“i thought you were going to encourage me to not drink.” your eyes squinted slightly, tongue darting out to taste more of the cocktail staining your lips.

“one won’t hurt.” with that he tapped the glass of the whiskey on the table of the bar before swigging down the contents in one gulp.

you burst out into laughter, your hand encouragingly squeezing his own further up your thigh, amusement only cooling down so you could take another taste of your cocktail.

"you're funny." your voice was light and airy already, palm pushed against your cheek as you watched him, as though you had been drinking much more than the one, maybe it came off too strongly but you weren't embarrassed, nothing could embarrass you.

"lovers quarrel." he spoke aloud and your confusion was apparent, even more so as his fingers took a hold of your hand, switching a slim ring decorated with diamonds onto your ring finger, "we hate each other but can't quit it." he murmured and you caught on, a giggle hid behind your other hand.

"you bought me this nice expensive ring, you're handsome, so charming.. of course there's a catch, why couldn't i see it." you sighed dramatically earning a scoff from leon.

"and you're beautifully cruel, impulsive, and a relentless pleasure-seeker, i was dealt quite the deck of cards." he spoke as though it was matter of factly, quite the actor.

"mmh, why thank you." you fluttered your eyelashes, leaning in to squeeze the bulky muscle of his arm, nudging yourself against him.

leon was good, a natural at, well just that, being natural. he was on guard as he was with any assigned job, just less flashy than the others, no visible weapons and a demeanor that needed to be cool but nonetheless, he was alert.

alert but here he was, doing exactly as he said he wouldn’t, indulging, finding away around things to do so, so he could feel your fingertips press into his skin again, so he could smell your fragrance every time you leant in and so he could hear those giddy little laughs at something stupid he said in the name of a silly cover story for the both of you.

oh leon kennedy..

you felt tipsy already without even touching another cocktail, infatuated with the man beside you all too suddenly, your heart desiring for something much sweeter than anything that could be offered from the shelves behind the bar.

relentless pleasure-seeker, you’d sure live up to that.

but first, you had a whole night ahead of you. your feet were quick, feeling compelled towards the crowd of dancing bodies, joining them, amongst the couples and men with no personal space.

you were hypnotic, anyone could see that, your hips swayed, dipping just enough and hands roaming from your thighs upwards to your chest, drawing in attention everywhere you wanted it.

leon stayed where he first sat, leaning further into the bar so he could comfortably rest, watching you closely, as though you were a film, like he was there to capture you on video.

“isn’t that the raccoon city survivor?” leon heard hushed voices and he was smacked in the face with the reality of it all, a surge of genuine worry in his gut, “why is she on this side of town? you think that whole conspiracy is true?”

how had you been safe for this long? leon took a moment of his attention away from you and suddenly every other persons eyes that were on you felt threatening, call it what you will, paranoia, overdramatic- he was there for a reason, the raccoon city terrors were real, to you and him, the government wasn’t on either of your sides, he knew that for a fact, but the unknown was scarier, at least in this situation.

leon exhaled before standing up on his feet, hanging his head down and walking over to seemingly join you, “you come to dance?” your arms reached up and out but his hand grasped your arm tightly instead.

your eyes rolled, “you can skip to the part of the lovers quarrel where we have a little fun amidst the hatred and sexual tension.” you jested.

“we’re leaving.” his head nodded in a gesture towards the door, arm tugging you towards him but you weren’t having any of it.

“uhh, no, no we’re not?” you scoffed, digging your heels into the ground, scowling at the man, “i just got here and i’d like to remind you, i don’t have a curfew, you’re not actually babysitting!” you slapped his arm.

“shut your mouth!” he whispered out harshly, another tug of your arm and this one hurt.

“you fucking dick, let me go.” you punched at his arm with your other hand this time but no budge, “i swear to god, i will scream, kick, punch, i will cause the biggest scene to get you off of me then you can kiss your job goodbye- oh no, you can kiss your life goodbye, since this is currently your only purpose.” you spat out.

leon dropped your arm, his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek, clearly seething internally but the last thing he needed was to draw anymore attention to the both of you.

“outside. now.” his arms came up to cross folded against his chest.

you didn’t speak another word, pushing past the man, shoulders harshly bumping into his. reaching the bar, with a sulk in your demeanour getting the attention of the bartender once again and ordering another cocktail.

you tensed when leon’s arm wrapped snuggly around your waist, “i’m serious, this isn’t safe. i have other means of getting you out of here but i’d much rather keep things peaceful and conscious.” his arm squeezed your hip, threateningly.

you looked down at your drink and felt your stomach drop, pushing the glass away from your body, “oh, so you’re crazy, that’s the catch.” you referred to your earlier quip.

“how is it suddenly not safe? why did you even let me come.” you gritted through your teeth, glancing around the room.

“came to my senses. it’s that simple, i’m not trying to lose my life because of how reckless you are with yours, no thanks.” you laughed at that, nodding and he couldn’t tell whether it was out of agreement or something else.

“i think i’m worth it.” you turned to face him and the look on his face was of disbelief at your attitude, it only egged you on further to push his buttons.

“newsflash sweetheart, you aren’t going to be the death of me.” he muttered, and that same burning grip he had on you returned and you were being whisked from the bar, swiftly out of the doors and through the hallway, all too fast, feeling like you were lagging behind, as though your brain was still at the bar- shit, your throat was so dry, maybe he slipped something in the first drink.. but there was no way.

the cold air bit harshly at your bare skin, coming to your senses suddenly all too quickly, feet stomping on the floor in a tantrum, fists coming up to hit his chest, “what is wrong with you?!” you screeched and suddenly you were being dragged further into the street, harshly turning a corner into some backstreet alley.

“you’ll get over it, stop acting like a spoilt brat. i got tired of that as soon as i saw your face again.” leon pushed you back against the brick wall and you rubbed over your arm where he had been gripping.

“you’re so sad!” you spat out, pushing him further away from you, “sad and desperate, you think you’re such a big hero from that day don’t you? gonna ruin my life? make me miserable as some sick payback because you resent me?” you laughed, directly in his face, “you want me to repay you, that it?” you walk closer to him, in some way to gain leverage over him, but it was futile, pathetic honestly.

his push his hair back with his fingers, the normal lightness to it looked darker thanks to the shadows, expression unreadable as he let you go off on a tangent.

“back up.” he spoke out, almost inaudibly but he knew you heard him because you only inched closer, noticing your eyes dart down to his waist when you felt the prod of something against your skin.

before your arm could even reach out to grab the item under his clothing, he unsheathed it suddenly, brandishing a knife, black handle, indented with a line every inch or so, the blade was quite tall, sloped either side and an engraving stamped below the hilt.

you didn’t get to see much of it though, within a blink of an eye it was pressed to your throat along with the familiar feeling of the gritty bricks against your back.

“don’t do something stupid now..” he was calm, despite the manoeuvre he had you in.

your breathing hitched, hands clutching his grey coloured suit tie amidst the panic, he kept you there for what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, relaxing only slightly but he never stuffed the knife back in its sheathe, it kept firmly gripped in his hand which was pressed in between your clavicle, as a warning.

in some sick and twisted way it was thrilling, you couldn’t shake that feeling and it felt disgustingly good.

you blinked a couple times, eyes darting out towards his arm, which somehow was on display, where he managed to find the time to roll up his sleeves was beyond you.

“eyes up here.” he tapped the blunt side of the knife to your chin, a all too cocky smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when you complied.

“see how easy it is to listen?” he sighed, dragging the cool metal across your jawline, tracing the outline of your ear and downwards to the top hem of your clothing.

you should’ve been terrified, but it felt different, unexplainable, you wanted him to keep going, you had never felt your head so empty and airy, it was euphoric.

maybe raccoon city screwed you up more than you thought..

you didn’t dwell much on it, attention undivided on the agent in front of you, his lips were moving but you couldn’t make out what he was saying, so dazed in the moment.

“should i keep going?” he repeated, tapping the tip of the knife to your chest and you nodded, squeezing the material of his tie, knocking his body closer towards you and you hissed out when the blade nipped your skin, a droplet of blood seeping into your clothes.

“shit-“ leon looked as though he panicked for a moment, but you weren’t about to let him, hands pushing up to cup his face and demand his full attention on what you wanted.

your lips meshed with his and for the first time of the night, leon kennedy was caught fully off guard. he relaxed after a few seconds, moulding his plush lips to yours and catching you in a sloppy shared kiss, your arms resting past his shoulders, one of your hands pushing his head further against yours to chase his mouth.

you only pulled away when you heard a rip of fabric, his nimble hands shredding it with the knife, a puddle of your clothes soon beneath your feet, delicate undergarments coming in to his view.

you didn’t get a second to regain composure as his mouth was once again on you, this time his tongue darted out, lapping up the droplet of blood from where the knife had broken your skin.

it was vile in the most sinful way possible, all the blood felt like it rushed straight to your throbbing cunt.

“i might actually go crazy if you tease me..” you voiced out, which caught him by surprise since you had been rather breathless.

“i can be nice.” he murmured out, voice muffled in between open mouthed kisses, knife cutting open your bra so his tongue could latch on to your nipple, his thumb toying with the other.

“mmh, you threaten me, make me bleed, and destroy all my clothes, but you can be nice?” you breathily giggled, distracted by the way the tip of his tongue- which had been previously licking up your blood, swirled and flicked against your nipple, sending pulses of electricity throughout your body.

“i’ll make it up to you.” he kissed back up from your chest, reaching your lips again to catch you in a kiss, you could taste the metallically tang from your blood and it only urged you further.

“fuck..” you gasped when he pulled away, looking between your bodies to watch the way he sliced off your panties next, wasting to time in running the pads of his fingers between your sloppy folds, “mmhn, didn’t i just tell you not to tease?” you mewled.

“you’re that worked up?” he chuckled out and your arm flew out to hit his chest, only earning another laugh.

“just fuck me already, i want your dick so badly.” you begged so pretty, you knew you did because his demeanour changed quickly, rough hands settling at your waist to manhandle you until you faced the wall.

“stay like that, arch your ba- mhm, like that.” he hummed, barely having to mention it and you were bending and obeying as though it was your only function.

leon had unbuttoned his blazer to relax a little better, though he lazily pushed his slacks down along with his underwear, far too eager to feel how heavenly you’d be on his cock.

he pumped his self a couple times, a firm hand pushing you back against him, helping him slowly push himself inside your pussy, “ouhh- fuck, that’s—“ he hissed out, halting his movements to revel in the way you were squeezing and fluttering around him relentlessly, “that’s so tight, m’ gonna fuck this little pussy open.” he grunted through his teeth, pushing against you until he was flush with you.

you were already finding it extremely hard to keep it together, mind so foggy with lust and the way he kept pushing and pushing for what felt like endlessly, he was so big, he pushed and prodded up against every delicious nerve inside of you and he hadn’t even started moving at a consistent pace yet, oh you were a goner.

a squeal left your lips when he pulled back only to push back much quicker and with force, your arms flying out until he grabbed one to pull behind your back, stabilising you and also getting more leverage on your movements.

“fuck, you’re so pretty, stuffed full of this cock, mmh, you like that?” he groaned out shamefully.

you didn’t answer though, far too preoccupied with how delicious he was stretching your walls, soon distracted by that familiar feeling of stinging cold metal to your throat, his other hand had come round to press it against your skin.

your eyes flew open and you felt him jerk you closer with his grip still on your other hand, “don’t fall now that would be real dangerous sweetheart, hold on, yeah?” he laughed out, it was evil, taunting but you were on another cloud of bliss.

“l-leon! ah mhhnmm!” you chanted out breathless incoherent moans and noises, feeling like a rag doll being constantly pulled against leon, you were so limp without his grip and the knife he pressed against your throat, you might’ve been in real trouble without him, ironically considering he was the one putting you between between him and the knife.

“i know, i know baby, feels s’good, don’t it?” he rasped out, bruises already forming on your wrists as he used you like his own little personal fucktoy.

“m’ really— oh, really close!” you squeaked, all too suddenly being dragged from your impending high, your back stabilising against the wall and you cried out.

“shh, shuuush.” he cooed at your displeased reaction, “i got you, i just wanna see that pretty face when you cum.” he paired his soothing voice with a firm kiss on your forehead, hiking your leg above his waist and slipping his cock inside your weeping pussy again.

the high bubbled so quickly in your tummy again all you could do was reach out for his arms, desperate to feel the metal to your skin again and he obliged, pushing it onto your neck once more as he pounding into you, wet sloppy sounds making it evident how close you were.

“you look so fucking cute like this, my knife against your throat, fucked stupid by my fat cock.” he grunted in between strained moans, clearly chasing his own high.

your vision went completely blurred as that burning hot coil in your tummy finally snapped, head knocked back against the wall as you sobbed out in pure pleasure, mantras of yes, yes, yes! and leon’s name falling from your lips.

“oh my fucking god, you’re so fucking sick, y’know that baby? yeah..” leon relaxed the knife from your throat, the blade dropping somewhere forgotten by your feet so he could push his head against your neck where the metal once occupied, licking and kisses the delicate skin, thrusts sloppy and inconsistent, broken and hoarse moans coaxed out with every further movement of his hips.

“fuck! fuck, a—ah!” his cock twitched and fluttered inside you as hot spurts of thick cum filled your walls, warming every inch of your body.

he pushed you further into the wall as he stood there, breathing in and out against your neck, slowly coming down from his high, the both of you dazed and pleasure-struck.

your head knocked against his and he seemed to come to, leaning back and blinking a couple of times before seemingly examining your body, “you hurt?” he breathed out.

“only my legs..” you laughed quietly, watching him gently set your leg down once he slipped out of you, grabbing your shredded clothing to wipe you off with.

“let’s get you somewhere warm.” he shrugged off his blazer jacket, pushing your arms through the holes and doing it up fully.

“leon, i feel okay, i’m good.” you assured him, stepping closer once again to return the same kiss he placed on your head, “that was crazy.. but fun.” you admitted, feeling the back of your neck burn from the realisation of what just happened.

“i shouldn’t of come on to you like that though.” he laughed nervously and you shook your head.

“i’m in one piece no?” you poked his chest, “i’m serious, i liked it- i like you, a lot.” you told the agent before shaking your head again, “you don’t have to say anything though, it’s not like that.” you didn’t exactly know what you meant because it was exactly as you said, having been smitten with the man all night, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with what you were insinuating, at least not tonight.

“take me home, somewhere warm.”

#leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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veryinnovative · 4 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic | january 1, prompt: decent | word count: 1.366 featuring bodyguard regulus black and multi-billionaire heir james potter

“I am not here to be your friend, Mr. Potter.”

There's a crease marring Regulus' forehead, hidden just behind the curl of his sable strands, sculpted brows knitted into a censorious frown. It indicates his internal turmoil well enough, showing just how hard he's struggling to gauge the extent of reprimand he can justifiably express, given his position as the head of James Potter's security team, which still remained a subordinate one at that.

There’s the cocky cant of James’ head as he tries and ward off the smile threatening to quirk at his mouth’s corners. It had taken a decent amount of brainstorming, planning, and persuading to get Regulus to comply—have him begrudgingly acquiesce to the idea of accompanying James inside the club as a more hands-on approach to extending security, even though the former’s constant presence was painstakingly redundant in a heavily monitored club as Godric. But James had pushed his luck even then, insisting Regulus keep wearing his body and thigh holsters, convincing him the ‘streetwear chic’ would be greatly appreciated by the club’s dressing code and grant them easy entrance (as if any club would deny James Potter out of all people, a multi-billionaire heir and continent-renowned philanthropist.).

The straps of the harness glitter underneath the fluorescent strobes of vibrant purple, though nothing as piercingly brilliant as the dangerous glint catching the edges of Regulus’ withering glare.

Ah, fuck.

James traces the sugar-coated rim of his glass, biting down on his tongue, only loosened further by the nth cocktail he’s consumed as he speaks with a beguiling drawl, “But I don’t want you to be my friend, Regulus.”

Life is unfair. Let alone that he lives in a penthouse situated on London’s South Bank overlooking the River Thames or that he can afford designer wear not recognizable by most seeing how James Potter wears quiet luxury clothing brands like Gran Sasso and their perfectly manufactured cashmere sweaters or his current thousand-and-three-hundred quid shirt by Bottega Veneta that’s missing a button at the front with how much he’s been puffing his chest in attempts to draw the attention of his unfairly hot bodyguard.

Because Regulus Black is just it. Black hair meticulously combed so smoothly, inky-black ringlets curling around his face—complexion milk-white and skin undoubtedly just as soft to touch if James was given the chance. Lithe but possessing swift reflexes and at least seven black belts in seven different martial arts that don’t mandate physical strength. Just three days ago, James had seen him throw a man almost three times his size over his shoulder with effortless ease, and how badly James had wished it had been him being tossed around.

The past months have been torturous, especially when Regulus wore his white button-up, that specific white button-up that stretched around his torso, accentuated his small waist, made only smaller when the straps of his harness clung to his chest. And his legs, those fucking long legs, clad in black dressing pants that made the swell of his ass all the more prominent, like a peach. James wanted to fucking squeeze it and devour the pulp left behind, slurp it like an animal that needed to be caged.

Whether it’s the words or the uncurbed lust he’s exuding, Regulus’ features rearrange into something far more complicated. He sucks on his teeth, squints his eyes, and then casts his gaze back into the crowd—the moving masses of bodies lost to the thrum of music.

“No,” he answers from behind the curve of his drink.

James smiles. He’s got him.

“No?” he asks, scooting closer, shit-eating grin only growing wider when Regulus makes no move to increase the distance between them.

“It’s highly unprofessional and breaks every code of conduct I strictly maintain. Not to mention, you’re my employer and—”

“And you want me.” Because he hasn't missed the glances exchanged between them and will be damned if he doesn't do anything about it.

Regulus coughs, sending drops of whisky flying across because Regulus Black is the type of man to drink something so old-school in a club. “What?” he sputters

James shrugs, an act that makes the fabric around his shoulders stretch thin, and does not miss how Regulus’ gaze briefly flits to the sliver of cleavage showing behind the missing button. “Right now you’re just listing reasons that, on contract, prevent any sort of intimacy between us, but if there weren’t any there, you would want this.”

“You’re being highly presumptuous,” Regulus scoffs.

“No, I’m good at reading people.”

“I am paid to guard you,” Regulus deflects.

This, he saw coming.

“Oh, it’s a money thing then?” James asks, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. He flips it open and thumbs through the wad of bills stashed in the compartment. “That’s fine, I can pay.”

This, however, also doesn’t have its desired effect. Regulus makes a face, downright spiteful this time, and does inch away from him, glass slamming onto the counter so hard James fears it might shatter. “What— So now you treat me like a prostitute?”

“What?” James asks, brows furrowed in confusion. He looks at Regulus, his wallet, back at Regulus and—

James Potter, an Oxford graduate, top-of-his-class, can also be a massive idiot.

“Oh— Oh, no— Shit, I didn’t mean— No!” He’s fumbling for words and his wallet, almost dropping it in the act of trying to put it away, nearly releasing it when he misses tucking it back in his pocket. “I just thought— Fuck, no, I’m sorry,” Regulus doesn’t look any more convinced and now James is very much panicking, thank you. “I— You know what, fuck it. Hi, I’m James Potter.”

Regulus looks like he’s having a stroke.

But James is insistent, waving his hand like the gesture will dismiss the awkward, terribly embarrassing interaction from just seconds prior. “Can I get you a drink?”

Regulus blinks at him, then his extended hand, and drags a palm down his face, pinching his nose bridge and breathing in deep.

But James is nothing if nothing stubborn. “Must’ve had a long day, huh? Need an ear?”

“I got a boss that’s stupid as fucking rocks,” Regulus mutters, and oh, James swoons. No one ever dared call him stupid or insult him in this manner, and he might just discover something about himself tonight.

“Yeah, what else?”

Regulus down the remnants of his whisky before raising his glass. “I need a refill for that”

The refill comes quick and this time, James doesn’t feel too scared about bridging the gap between them bit by bit. “So this boss of yours…” he starts, because he’s already a little tipsy and on a streak of dauntless moves. “Is he hot?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “He’s okay.”

“Oka—” James starts, bridling, before he catches a sight of the subtlest of smirks. Then, excitement, coiling down his spine like a lick of flame kindled further by the challenging gaze Regulus looks at him with. “I think you’re selling him short.”

“He’s arrogant, I don’t think I could bear him with an ego that’s any more inflated.”

“Oh, but you wound him. He’s been trying very hard to be noticed these past couple of months. Even started waking up early to catch glimpses of a certain someone that moved in with him for work purposes.”

Regulus makes a face that reads like ‘Is that the fucking reason why you have been putting your alarm on 4:30 a.m. in a pathetic effort to catch a glimpse of me preparing for the day and trying to be an unnoticeable presence in your life because that’s expected of me as head of security?’ and James smiles like he’s trying to say ‘Yeah, I did. Seeing you drink coffee, freshly showered, is worth it even if I struggle to stay awake during meetings in the afternoon.’

Regulus quirks an eyebrow. “Why is he trying to be noticed by me?”

James links a leg around Regulus’ bar stool and yanks it closer, relishing in the little gasp that leaves his lips as a result. Their legs bump, James’ knee sliding inside Regulus’ thigh, coming to a rest against it.

“Why spoil the fun by talking? I could just show you instead.”

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #jegulus fanfiction #marauders #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #starchaser #sunseeker #this is for you mil my little iced oat milk latte with millionaires shortbread #MY FIRST MICROFIC FOR JEGULUS PROMPTS!#ino microfic tag!

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cupidjyu · 4 months

Text

crocheted flowers

hyunjae x reader

when hyunjae, the man who you hate and who hates you in return, becomes your temporary bodyguard, the two of you surprisingly grow closer through misunderstandings and... flirting.

genre: enemies to lovers, royal au, bodyguard hyunjae, flirting, slow dancing, he's very strong, and very protective, yet so gentle, misunderstandings, past mistreatment mentioned notes: hahahahahaha word count: 13k

Even with your head resting on your palm, it still lolled down. Were your eyes being taped shut? Why couldn’t you keep them open? Maybe it was because you were crocheting late into the night. Still, this meeting couldn’t be any more boring.

“Are you listening, Your Highness?”

Immediately, you jerked up, blinking your eyes rapidly. You looked around, squinting through your exhaustion. Everyone sitting around the table had their eyes on you–some looked concerned, some amused, and some… disappointed.

“What? Yes, yes,” you stammered. “I’m listening.”

The stern-looking woman stared at you for a second before eventually nodding. She was horribly intimidating, though you understood why. She was the event organizer (you liked to call her party planner instead) so she had to ensure everything was perfect.

“The ball is confirmed to be two weeks from now…”

You yawned, adjusting your clothes which were very uncomfortable, dare you add. When you looked around, you made eye contact with Haknyeon, your bodyguard. He grinned and mocked your sleeping form with exaggerated hand signs which you scoffed at quietly. When you moved your head to the side, your eyes landed on Hyunjae, your other bodyguard.

Quickly, your mood soured just at the sight of him. You try to avoid speaking his name or addressing him at all, but whenever you do, it’s spoken with a harsh, uncaring tone. It’s not like he didn’t share the same feelings.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and tilting his head. Then, he glanced down at the papers set in front of you that you were supposed to be looking over right now.

Focus, he mouthed.

Your jaw clenched and you tore your gaze away from him stubbornly. Th2ough, you did actually decide to tune into the meeting. You were pretty sure you heard your name about three times.

“As requested by the King, Y/n’s escort will not be a prince from another land. At least for now. Instead, her escort shall be her personal bodyguard.”

You perked up at that. You’ve always despised the possibility that you would be forced to walk into a ball with some stuck-up prince that you had met just a minute ago. With a smile, you turned to look at Haknyeon. He was your personal bodyguard, the one who follows you around all day. Hyunjae on the other hand, had the role of guarding your door. So thankfully, your escort was Haknyeon and not him.

But to your surprise, Haknyeon quickly looked away with a sheepish look. You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he not want to be your escort?

Please no, I can’t go with Hyunjae. Anyone but him.

After the meeting, you walked out, still slightly groggy after your mid-meeting nap. Instantly, Haknyeon was by your side like the perfect bodyguard that he was. You sighed, holding your stomach as you turned to him. “Do you want to eat lunch with me during your break?”

Yet again, he gave you a guilty look. “I have something… to do.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “That’s okay. Just make sure to make it up next time,” you playfully replied.

“Of course, Y/n.” He grinned back. That was another thing you liked about Haknyeon. He didn’t often call you ‘Your Highness’ which you always felt was too proper. You liked it when he called you just by your name.

“Want me to save you dessert?” You giggled.

He hummed, his eyes sparkling just at the thought. “You know me so well.” He glanced back at one of the staff calling him over. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and watched him jog over to pick up some equipment. Haknyeon would always be your favorite bodyguard. He was kind and had a great sense of humor. Especially after following you around and protecting you for a few years, he knew a lot about you compared to really… anyone else.

You heard a shift behind you and you whipped around. Your alert state quickly dissolved into an annoyed one as you faced Hyunjae who was leaning against the wall, right next to you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to go back to your post?”

He turned to look at you before turning to face the wall. He liked to do that–ignore you rudely. “Haknyeon’s occupied right now. You can’t be alone.”

You roll your eyes and clenched a fist. Oh, how you hated his stupid, unimpressed expression and his even stupider arms that were crossed over his chest. “I don’t need your help,” you gritted out.

“And I don’t want to help you. This is just my job.” He merely glanced at you.

You swore you saw red as you stepped forward. “You–”

You were then startled by Haknyeon who appeared behind you, gently guiding you back from possibly pouncing on one of your bodyguards. “Y/n,” he laughed nervously as he pulled you along in the direction of your room. “I think you’re tired. How long have you been crocheting?”

“A few hours,” you muttered. “But still, I’m not tired. He’s just so… obnoxious. And mean! And–” You just groaned, completely frustrated.

Being born into a royal family, you naturally already had enemies, most of them being from other lands or old classmates you used to argue with. But you didn’t pay them any mind. The only enemy that you did pay mind was Hyunjae, your own bodyguard. You hated him so much.

He was strict with you and never treated you nicely. He never even gave you a reason for doing so. It was like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed, every single day. He always had these snarky responses and annoyed glares directed only at you. You just couldn’t stand him.

And that is why you would like to sincerely thank whoever invented hot showers. You didn’t care if it practically burned your skin, it always let off those knots in your muscles whenever you interacted with your arch-nemesis bodyguard. With damp hair and your sleepwear on, you headed back to your room.

Usually, at this time, Hyunjae was on his break, meaning he wouldn’t witness you without your usual attire and with messy, disheveled hair. You were always expected to look your best in front of others, whether you liked them or not.

But just as you turned the corner, you stopped abruptly in your tracks, almost slipping on the floor. His post was supposed to be empty yet he was standing right there.

Cautiously, you approached your door with an annoyance already creeping up your spine. “Why are you here?”

“Funny, that’s the second time you asked.” His eyes narrowed when he noticed you tensing at his words. “Again, it’s my job. My break got pushed back.”

You took in a deep breath as if that would do anything to calm your anger. “You’re so… rude. What would your boss think?”

“Technically, you’re my boss.”

You blinked in realization before quickly schooling your face neutrally.

“And even so—“ He paused when he heard a sound from down the hallway. He almost became… alert. Sometimes, you forget that he was still a bodyguard. When he realized it was just a broom that had simply fallen over, he relaxed and turned back to you. “I couldn’t care less.”

“You’ll care when I fire you,” you spoke through your teeth. Yet, he only stared at you unimpressed.

“But you know that I’m the best option. How could you let me go?” He faked a pout. You stayed quiet, knowing that he was right. The other bodyguards were a bit too… energetic and admiring for your liking.

You sighed, glancing at your door. “Still, you shouldn’t see me like this.” You eyed yourself who was the opposite of put together right now. “There’s a reason why I wanted you on break.” You looked away, slightly embarrassed.

You could feel his eyes on you, or more specifically, traveling over you. Then he hummed, almost amused.

“I see no difference, Your Highness.”

“Ah, so you’re a liar too.”

He looked like he was about to refute but he eventually sighed and gestured to your room. “Just go to your room.”

—

The next day, you stood at the entrance of the same meeting room. When the door opened, you were met with the sight of your two bodyguards as well as the event organizer standing, seemingly waiting for you. You gulped. Were you in trouble for falling asleep? No, that can’t be.

“What’s this about?” You spoke nervously. Your eyes landed on Haknyeon, who was frowning and giving you pitiful eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

The woman cleared her throat. “Everything’s perfectly fine. Your bodyguard here…” She gestured to Haknyeon. “Was granted a month of vacation to go back home.”

You immediately brightened at those words, bounding over to Haknyeon and hugging him tightly. “That’s great!” You exclaimed. “You deserve it. So much.”

Haknyeon smiled back but frowned afterward. “I’ll miss you though,” he whined.

“Hey, it’s only a month. Besides, you should enjoy yourself.”

“…and,” the woman continued. “That will mean that Hyunjae will temporarily take his place as your personal bodyguard.”

That was when you froze, going so silent you could hear a pin drop. You turned to her with your mouth agape and your heart fallen to the floor. “What.”

She only offered a measly smile while you could only stare in disbelief. Was this possibly your punishment for taking a nap during the meeting? Have you been chosen for torture on this planet? Why—

“Why couldn’t you choose anyone else? It could be anyone but him.” You glared at Hyunjae who also seemed surprised and agitated.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with a long sigh as if she expected this response. “Because Hyunjae knows more about you than any of the other bodyguards. He’s the best choice who is aptly strong and calm, especially for someone of your energy.”

“But you know we don’t get along,” you refuted.

She frowned but eventually nodded, understanding your argument. “Your Highness, if you would really like to request a change then let me know. But if you were to keep your relationship with him strictly professional, then there should be no problems.”

“I…” You bit your lip. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t want to change, but you also hated the idea of being a burden, especially for someone who was so preoccupied with setting up the ball. Shutting your eyes with a wince, you groaned quietly in defeat. “Fine. I guess we can manage for a month.”

“Great!” She clapped enthusiastically while Haknyeon snorted in amusement. “I’ll be off now.”

Once she was gone, you could hear your now former bodyguard laugh, clearly enjoying the show. Then he stepped forward and turned to Hyunjae with a knowing look.

“What are you waiting for?” His tone was nothing but teasing. “Go stand by Y/n.”

Hyunjae stared at him, obviously annoyed before reluctantly going to your side. You looked up at him before rolling your eyes. He was awfully tall, which made it a lot harder to really argue with him.

“What a view,” Haknyeon laughed even louder.

“I don’t want to do this either,” Hyunjae whispered, looking at you with a harsh demeanor.

“At least we agree on something.”

—

You stalked through the halls, your mood completely ruined. What exasperated you even more was the footsteps trailing behind you, belonging to your new temporary bodyguard, the one man that you despised.

You stopped abruptly and turned around.

“Can you just not follow me? I think I can manage on my own. I especially don’t want to be with you.”

He simply looked at you without budging. “You know I can’t do that, Your Highness.”

You sighed at his mocking tone, exasperated before turning around and beginning to walk again. Well, before you stopped abruptly once more, causing Hyunjae to almost bump into you. Something just dawned on you, leaving your chest seizing for air.

“Does that mean you’re my… escort for the ball?” You seriously contemplated somehow pushing back the ball until next month. There was no way it would be in two weeks when you would have to enter the ballroom with your hand on his arm.

He nodded wordlessly, obviously not happy about it either.

“God, I hate this,” you mumbled, leaning your head back. “You’re going to be the worst bodyguard ever.”

“And do you think I really consider that important?” He stared back at you condescendingly.

“You–” Stepping forward, you completely forgot that there was still that broom on the floor. How come no one picked it up? Maybe you should have been more aware. Being the clumsy person you were, your foot quickly caught onto it, leaving you stumbling forward. This was why it was important you had a bodyguard following you around.

You were about to accept your fate of a broken nose until you felt a cool hand grasp your wrist that was flailing mid-air, holding you up. You blinked in surprise, looking up only for you to realize that you were alarmingly close to Hyunjae’s face.

He didn’t seem at all fazed though, watching as you, on the other hand, were incredibly shocked over his sheer strength of being able to hold you up with one hand.

“I wouldn’t advise stepping there.” If you looked closely, you could see the corners of his lips lift slightly at his own remark. “There’s a broom on the floor.”

You scoffed, pulling away harshly. “Thank you so much for the warning.”

“Anytime.” He faked a bow.

“Oh, you–” You paused before you would fall over again. “You know what? Just shut up. Let’s just not talk for a month.”

“Fine by me.”

As you walked, you were surprised to hear that there were no footsteps behind you anymore. With curiosity getting the best of you, you turned around, only to see that he had stopped to pick up the broom and set it back up.

“Huh,” you breathed, slightly surprised.

(Hyunjae sighed, sitting down on the couch and throwing an arm over his eyes. He was exhausted and he had only followed you for an hour. How was he going to do this every day and for a month at that?

He heard a creak and the weight of someone else sitting beside him. Looking over, he was met with Haknyeon, again with a gloating expression. It seemed that he had brought his luggage over, already packed and ready to leave him with you. Alone.

“Excited?” The shorter grinned smugly.

“Don’t kid me,” Hyunjae sighed with a frown. “I honestly wished they would have requested another guard at this point. All I was supposed to do was guard the door, not follow them around all day.”

Haknyeon hummed thoughtfully before leaning back with him. “Can I ask you something?” When Hyunjae offered no response, the younger continued. “Why do you hate Y/n so much? What did they do to make you despise them that much?”

Hyunjae paused before letting out a low sigh. “Nothing. I just… I’ve had my fair share of royalties.” His mind flashed back to when he used to be in one of the lower ranks of the staff. He was never treated right, always pushed around and spoken to harshly by none other than the royal family who promised that they would protect him with all their being. Lies. He had always wanted to be a bodyguard. But in the process of becoming one, he realized just how cruel people can be.

And so, when he was actually promoted to be one, he already entered the position with low hopes and crushed dreams. He expected the exact same treatment from you.

“Y/n’s probably just the same.”

Haknyeon looked at him sympathetically, as if to tell solely through his eyes that he understood where he was coming from. “But Y/n’s different. I promise you that. After spending so much personal time with them, trust me when I say that they’re not like the others.”

Hyunjae could only shut his eyes before mumbling a quiet, “Enjoy your vacation. I’ll be suffering.”)

–

“Please stop staring,” you forced out. You knew that just the day before you had suggested not talking, but something about his… face as he looked at you through the reflection of your mirror bothered you so much to the point that you had to say something. His eyes were different than you expected as if he was almost interested in you getting ready for an outing.

But then, as obnoxious as he was, he faked a smile, leaning back against the wall. “I can’t do that, Your Highness. What if someone’s out there to hurt you?”

“That’s unlikely. So please stop whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m merely looking at you. Does that make you nervous?”

Your face contorted with anger at his words. “Hyunjae!” You groaned, setting down your makeup brush with a loud thud and turning around to glare at him.

“What?” He muttered.

“This is just for one month.” You straightened and walked over to him. You tried to look somewhat intimidating but knowing that he was the one whose job was to protect you, it was a bit difficult. “Can’t you be the least bit tolerable? I don’t even know why you hate me so much.”

He stared at you wordlessly before looking away with his jaw clenched. “I have my reasons.”

You huffed. “Well if you would tell me, maybe we could have worked this out.” Your shoulders hurt with how tense they were as you began to walk backwards. But yet again, you tripped. This time, it was on the carpet—the fancy type that seemed impossible to walk on.

Unlike before though, you fell backwards. One day you were going to end up with a broken bone. Your life flashed before your eyes until you felt a strong hand wrap around your waist.

Quickly, he pulled you up and right against his body. Without you realizing, you had planted your hands on his chest, creating the distance that was very minimized considering how firmly he was holding you. You could feel the wind get knocked out of you, out of breath as you stared at Hyunjae with wide eyes.

His eyes searched your features carefully. His expression was mostly the same except for how the harsh lines on his face had disappeared for some reason.

“I said you can’t get hurt.” His voice was also… less harsh.

You gulped as you lifted your hands off his chest. But some part of you kept your fingertips there, feeling his heartbeat drum against them. Your cheeks felt warm as you stared at him wordlessly, trying to come up with some sort of response.

“I…” Your voice wavered. “I wish you were bad at your job.”

And to your surprise, he smirked. “Oh? Are you saying that I’m good at protecting you?”

Your hands wandered down to his which still grasped your waist. You squeezed it, reminding him to let go because, for some reason, he forgot. He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Do not put words in my mouth.” And when he still didn’t let go, you grabbed hold of it instead, pulling it off and ignoring the spark you felt at his touch.

—

It would no longer be Haknyeon following you around the whole day. It would be him. Oh, how you hated him. You hated your clumsiness as well, considering that he kept on saving you by holding you with the sheer strength of just one arm.

Refreshed after a good night’s sleep, you opened your door before jumping at the sight of Hyunjae standing before you. Yet again, you were reminded of how annoyingly tall he was as he stepped aside for you.

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a lazy voice.

You stared at him silently before turning on your heel and heading down the hall. But no matter how fast you walked and no matter how many turns you took, he remained behind you.

(Hyunjae followed silently as you traversed through the never-ending halls. He had never seen a royal member willingly walk through the whole castle before, or even leave their section at all.

He watched, intrigued and curious as you turned every corner, occasionally knocking on doors and peeking in. You seemed to be having conversations with whoever resided inside. That was what perplexed him more. You were in the section of the castle where the staff stayed.

If he walked closer or you would slow down slightly, he could hear you mumbling to yourself, as if to make a to-do list.

“Make… soup…no!…she’s allergic.”

He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in pleasant surprise.)

“What’s the rush?” He remarked, just as you were finished speaking with one of the maids.

You glanced back at him. “I have much to do. If you don’t want to follow, then go as you please.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I can’t do that?”

You stared at him for a moment before sighing. At least he was dedicated. “Then hurry up you… turtle.”

You must have been dreaming because why did his lips lift up into a smile for a second? And how come you heard a chuckle?

And then, to your slight shock, he sped up so that he was walking by your side. Even if you tried to confuse him by taking shortcuts, he continued to accompany you.

“You—“

“Just doing my job, Your Highness.”

You rolled your eyes at the way he always addressed you.

—

First, he followed you to the kitchen. He guarded the doorway, as always leaning against the wall.

You felt his eyes on you as you moved past each cabinet, pulling out ingredients for your most beloved specialty: pancakes! You knew the measurements by heart and soon enough, the batter was already mixed and being poured into a pan.

You could see him tilt his head in the corner of your eye.

“What are you cooking for?” He spoke up. “You do know we have chefs for that.”

“I know that.” You flipped the pancake successfully for once. “Just… one of the staff fell sick so I wanted to make her something.”

His eyes widened slightly as he straightened up at your words. It seemed like something you said had shocked him, though you had no idea what. And when you glanced back at him, you realized that his stiff demeanor had slightly softened. Was it because you were simply cooking for a staff member? Was that so odd?

Brushing off the hair that fell over your face, you jerkily turned back to the pancakes before they burned. It was silent for a while yet you couldn’t help but shake off the feeling of Hyunjae staring at you as if trying to decipher what you were doing.

(Hyunjae watched and watched, yet continued to become more and more perplexed. You were spending your energy cooking for a staff member rather than ridiculing them for every mistake they made? His eyes followed you around the room, completely shamelessly as you moved back and forth, making what looked like fluffy pancakes.

But slowly, his gaze moved from your movements to, well, your features. Something about how you looked was almost mesmerizing. Gone were the prim and proper, perfectly hair-sprayed styles. Instead, your hair was messy, falling over your eyes constantly which he couldn’t help but hum with amusement.

You were also void of any heavier makeup, allowing him to see your features more clearly. Your eyes were focused yet shone without any glitter and your lips… pursed but…

He awkwardly cleared his throat. What was he thinking? He wasn’t supposed to look at you in that way.

Luckily, you hadn’t noticed his staring.)

He was staring. He was definitely staring.

Why? You weren’t too sure. Maybe he was plotting a plan that would lead to your demise. Typical of him. But, you were too focused on cooking that you decided to pay it no mind, hurriedly brushing your hair out of your face once again.

A few minutes later, you glanced up, solely for the reason of shooting him a glare. A bit immature, but that was how you two usually regarded each other anyway. But, to your surprise, he was nowhere to be seen. And you expected to feel a sense of relief, but for some reason, something shot through your heart.

You were alone—without him to catch you. You gulped nervously and hesitantly turned back to your pancakes. Just as you finished the second-to-last batch, you felt a warm presence behind you. Before you could turn around, a hand brushed against the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. And for some reason, you could immediately tell it was Hyunjae.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you felt another hand grasp your hair, pulling it up and away from your face. He leaned closer from behind, peering at the side of your face to make sure he didn’t miss any strands. Suddenly, the room felt ridiculously hotter than before. You stayed utterly still and completely unsure of what to do.

He was tying your hair for you.

Once you felt your hair being fastened, you tried to whip around but you felt a gentle grip on your shoulders that made you face the counter once again. “Turn back around,” he muttered with a chiding tone. Bewildered, you stared at the wall, your heart pounding. Your hands gripped the side of the counter as you shut your eyes and cringed.

And if you thought he was done, he certainly wasn’t. His hands had left your hair and wandered down to your waist. Though he didn’t completely grasp it, that brief brush with his gentle hand sent you spiraling. You felt your apron tightening as he tied it again. It must have come loose earlier. Still, that didn’t answer your question as to why he was doing this all in the first place.

(Hyunjae did not enjoy this. He certainly wasn’t biting back a smirk as he noticed your reddening ears and your hands holding onto the counter for dear life.

And just for a bit more fun, as he tightened the knot of the apron, he yanked you backward, sending you stumbling and falling back against his chest where he kept you steady, his hand ghosting just over your hip. He could tell you were trying to look angry as you looked up at him with a frown that looked more nervous and confused than intimidating.

Slowly, he lost his battle with holding back a smile. But just before you could catch him, he leaned toward your ear and whispered, “You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothes would you?”

You gulped and he could see how flushed your cheeks were.

“Why would you care?” You replied.

Hyunjae blinked and he quickly leaned away from you. He steadied you but created that distance that the two of you were most familiar with. Why did he care?)

Your mind was befuddled. The two of you were supposed to be arguing, throwing insults, and doing everything that had to do with hatred. But what was that? That was nothing like what you two were supposed to do. That was…

You shook your head out of your trance. He was probably just messing with you, trying to find your weakness to use it against you in the future.

“Don’t startle me like that again,” you said shakily, flexing your hand nervously. You turned back to your unfinished batter and picked up the whisk, beginning to stir its contents. You would have been done with this already if it weren’t for his… assistance.

“Can I assist you once more?” He asked, this time appearing at your side. Your gaze hardened as you turned to him. Your hand came up to mindlessly swipe the hair off your face, only to find nothing because the very man right next to you had already tied it up. You scoffed and tilted your chin up, yet he only gazed back without emotion–except for that small bit of amusement behind the twinkle of his eyes.

“Fine, if you would be so kind.”

Hyunjae reached over, taking–prying, because you were that stubborn–the whisk from your hand and moved the bowl over. He began to mix and to your large dislike, he was much more efficient when doing so. You set your hands on the counter and watched. You tried to keep your eyes solely on his obnoxiously handsome face or on the batter being mixed in the bowl, but instead, your gaze wandered to his… arms.

Bodyguards always wore simple black and white suits–easy to move around, yet form-fitting enough to look formal. And that was what bothered you so much. Why, under his suit, could you see the muscles of his arm flex so clearly as he used the mixed? And why, with his suit on, did you start imagining it off–leaving him only in a white dress shirt and a loose tie? Your mouth went dry.

Your thoughts were rudely interrupted by his breathy laugh. You looked up, only to be met with a small smirk, barely visible, but enough to leave you embarrassed anyway.

“Eyes on the bowl, not my arm.” He nodded towards the bowl, already fully mixed for a while now, which you didn’t notice.

You suppressed a groan, elbowing him so that you could finish cooking. “Shut up, Hyunjae. You’re distracting me.”

“In what way?”

“You’re face is unbearable.”

“Hm, could have sworn it was my arms.”

–

After dropping off the pancakes to various staff member rooms that quickly filled with grateful smiles, you led Hyunjae out to the garden. He trailed behind you as you wandered the various, intricately carved trails, searching for the prettiest and brightest flowers. When you found the perfect patch, you immediately knelt down, slightly adjusting your hair. Carefully, you picked the flowers, bunching them into a basket.

Just like before, it was silent. Well, up until Hyunjae decided to start a conversation again, as weird as it was. You would never get used to it.

“Your Highness.” His voice was softer.

You squinted up at him. “What?”

He gestured to the flowers being held in your hand. “Your hands will get dirty.”

“I know,” you sighed. You never particularly enjoyed the feeling. “But I noticed that some of the vases were empty. I’m going to refill them again.”

When there was no response, you looked up, only to see Hyunjae staring at you in surprise. His lips parted and his head was tilted ever so slightly. You noticed he did that often when he was confused. Almost like a… puppy.

(Hyunjae’s chest felt tight. You had specific workers to fill up those vases and cook pancakes yet you… did those tasks on your own accord. Maybe Haknyeon wasn’t all too wrong. Maybe…)

You yelped. Immediately, Hyunjae was kneeling down, taking your arm, and pulling you up to stand. “Are you okay?”

You searched his eyes with bewilderment. “I-”

His touch was gentle and careful as he brought your hands up for examination. “You should have used gloves, Your Highness. I knew you would get hurt.” His thumb pressed comfortingly into your palm.

“No!” You blurted out, causing him to jump. He looked up from one of your hands, completely missing the fact that he was so close that if he leaned any closer, he would be kissing the back of it. “I’m not hurt.”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re not?”

“No,” you argued with a scowl. “Did you not hear the loud thunder a few moments ago? It startled me that’s all.”

“Thunder?” He furrowed his eyebrows. And then he looked at you like something dawned on him. “Thunder,” he breathed. “You need to go back inside.”

“Wha– why?” You exclaimed, already being dragged down the trail. You stumbled after his strides as you silently cursed his long legs. Soon enough though, your question was answered with the sudden pour of rain over your heads. It was so heavy that it began to seep through your clothes, sending a shudder through your whole body. And that meant that Hyunjae, who was holding onto your hand, would feel it tremble.

He stopped abruptly and turned back around to face you.

“What are you doing?” You asked hurriedly. “We still have a long way to…” Your voice trailed off once you realized what exactly he was doing. He was taking off the jacket of his suit, leaving him only in his white dress shirt and a messed-up tie. Huh. Didn’t you just imagine that back in the kitchen?

He stepped forward and he held the jacket up over your head, acting as an umbrella. “Ready, Your Highness?” Yet again, his face lacked any emotion.

“Yes,” you breathed. The two of you avoided running so as to not slip on the forming mud, but everything felt incredibly fast-paced anyway. Hyunjae, who continued to shield you from the rain, kept on stealing glances at you to make sure you were okay. Everytime you caught him, you would scrunch your nose and silently gesture for him to focus on getting back.

As you got closer, it was you who decided to steal a glance. You inhaled sharply when you realized that most of Hyunjae’s body was soaked by rain. His wet hair fell over his eyes and his shirt stuck to his skin. He was keeping you dry while he…

You hadn’t even noticed that you two were indoors already. Hyunjae let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a hand through his soaked hair.

“Did you not check the weather before you—“

You ignored his words, instead storming over and smacking him plainly on his shoulder. He stared at you, clearly unimpressed. He never seemed to flinch.

You frowned, looking around for a towel, only for there to be none in sight. With a groan, you turned back to him. “You’ll catch a cold, you idiot.”

“I’ve had worse,” he replied.

“Like what?”

“Like when I had to work while having a fever.”

You gasped and your frown deepened. “That’s so mean, who made you do that? I must have a talk with them.”

“I don’t think you must. Not when the person is none other than your own cousin.”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were always aware that Hyunjae wasn’t always a bodyguard. But to learn how he was treated previously…

You huffed and shook your head. “Cousin or not, that won’t change anything. If he treated you unfairly, then he deserves to be ridiculed.”

Hyunjae looked at you yet again, in surprise, his eyes slightly widened. So there’s finally more emotion in his face. “There’s no need, Your Highness. You do know that you’re supposed to hate me, right?”

You swallowed thickly. It hit you then. The two of you… hadn’t insulted each other in a while. It was weird but not something you were against.

“I don’t…” You sighed. “You’ve helped me a lot recently, so I— I don’t know. I want to repay you.”

“Okay,” he whispered. You looked up, trying not to pay attention to how attractive your bodyguard looked when soaked with rain. He was a lot more muscular than you thought, considering his shirt was see-through. “But this is my job, Your Highness. There’s nothing to repay.”

You grumbled. “I get to decide that.”

And to your pleasant surprise, he laughed. It was a nice sound and an even nicer change of pace with his usual stoic personality.

“But thank you.” He smiled softly. “I appreciate it, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. You looked down to examine your picked flowers. But then you slapped your hand over your face.

“Ah, my basket. I forgot it.”

“Would you like me to get it for you?”

You glanced out the window. The rain was still pouring. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“I wasn’t. You spent a lot of time picking those flowers. I can get them for you.”

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away. You never thought he would go to such lengths for… you. Then again, it was his job. But it felt different either way. It felt like your heart was racing.

“Shut up,” you muttered. “Go dry yourself off instead.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” He tilted his head with a teasing smile.

And for some reason, that smile and that soft gaze left you breathless.

—

After Hyunjae was all dry—now only wearing just a dress shirt and tie this time (much to your quiet enjoyment)—he followed you to your last stop of the day. The library. It was large and filled with rows upon rows of books that almost everyone couldn’t understand. You weren’t any different. You simply enjoyed the peace and quiet of the atmosphere, where you could crochet to your heart’s content.

You sat on a chair and tried to focus, but your mind was distracted—distracted by your bodyguard who was standing by your side silently. When Haknyeon accompanied you, he would start conversations or try to read one of the books. To say this was uncomfortable was a huge understatement.

You set down the needles and patted the chair next to you.

“Do you want to sit down?” You looked up at him. He gazed at you before reluctantly sitting down, facing you slightly.

There definitely was progress in your relationship with him but it was still painfully awkward. Every time the two of you would make eye contact, it would quickly break. Fidgeting hands, darting eyes, shifting in your seat—it was just so graceless.

“I’m not that bad,” you whispered, facing him with a soft smile. “You can talk to me.”

Hyunjae leaned back in his chair, stretching slightly. “I guess you’re not. But hm, I’m not too sure.”

“Hey.” You glared. This time though, your glare was playful and you even struggled to hold back a smile. “Say anything. Start a conversation. I promise I won’t bite.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “I never thought you would bite. You practically trip over air every time I look at you.”

You stuttered and your cheeks quickly started to feel warm as you quickly stared down at your lap. “I– I don’t mean to…” When you looked back up, you saw Hyunjae staring at you with sparkles of amusement in his eyes. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed with clearly no trace of an apology. “Fine, I’ll talk.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his thighs as he gestured to your crocheted piece of work. Which hopefully, he could tell it was a scarf. “Who’s this for?”

You stared at him, slightly confused. But then you realized, oh, he had witnessed you cooking and picking flowers for others. He must have assumed you were making this for someone as well. You shyly shook your head, gripping your work in progress tightly.

“Oh,” you laughed nervously, tearing your gaze away with embarrassment. “It’s just for me actually. This is my favorite hobby.” Your voice gradually became quieter and quieter. The only person who was well aware of your love of crocheting was Haknyeon. So to share it with Hyunjae is…

He hummed quietly and you could tell he was interested, rather than judging. He didn’t say anything after, instead choosing to watch you crochet. Usually, you were great at crocheting. Amazing actually! But something about his silent gaze on your hands left them shaking causing you to make a lot more mistakes than usual.

After your nth mistake, you sighed and placed the unfinished scarf in your lap with a frustrated groan. You needed to do something–anything–to steer his eyes away from your hands. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was… nerve-wracking. For some odd reason, you felt your heart beat faster than usual.

Abruptly, you turned to him. “Do you want to learn?”

He froze as he eyed your intricate work. Then he shook his head softly. “This isn’t my type of thing.”

“Then what do you like? Or are you just a boring guy?”

He rolled his eyes. “I like to workout.”

You scoffed. “That’s such a you thing to enjoy.” Except, you didn’t make that statement just because you knew he was a bodyguard and had to be strong enough anyway. Really, you said it because you could not, for your life, get the image of him, rain-soaked with a tight shirt that clung to his body out of your mind.

He was quiet for a moment before he tilted his chin downwards, looking you straight in the eyes. You gulped nervously. Why was he staring at you so intently? When you looked closely, you could see a small teasing smile appear on his lips.

“Then how else do I catch you when you fall?” He paused and his voice lowered. “Your Highness.”

Now, it felt like your heart was in your throat. You cleared it desperately as you quickly turned away, hoping you were fast enough to hide your reddening cheeks.

–

“Can’t I do something?” You complained. You twirled around and wandered through the various set-up tables. There were staff members everywhere, intricately putting up centerpieces and making sure that every tablecloth had not a single wrinkle, every plate was without a singular smudge and every flower was placed perfectly.

The head organizer, who was busy checking things off her important-looking clipboard, glanced at you before shaking her head in disapproval.

“No, you can’t.”

“Why?” You gave your best pleading look but she wasn’t even looking at you.

“This is our job, Your Highness. We don’t want to bother you.”

“But–” She was already long gone, chasing down a guy who accidentally put a napkin backward.

Biting your lip, you glanced around and your eyes quickly landed on Hyunjae who was nearby, helping move things around for the upcoming ball. It was drawing near and you still weren’t completely sure about walking in with Hyunjae on your arm.

You hurried over to him and he was quick to notice you approaching.

“Can I help? Please?”

He looked you over. You were dressed in your more expensive attire which would make it harder for you to move around and help. But you still wanted to try anyway. He sighed and shook his head, much to your demise.

“No, Your Highness. I can’t afford you getting hurt.” You pursed your lips. But, before you could come up with some sort of snarky response, he suddenly leaned in. “Besides, I don’t think you’re strong enough,” he whispered before pulling away with a mischievous smile.

You shut your eyes and leaned your head back, annoyed. “I definitely am.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked past you to pull out one of the nearby chairs. “Then sit here for a moment. We’ll find something to do after I’m done.”

You nodded and sat down. You tried to look around but quickly found that your head began to hurt the more you tried to comprehend the chaos that was called setting up for a ball. And so, you decided to turn your focus back to the only person you could mostly comprehend.

Hyunjae was busy lifting heavy boxes. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair was slightly messy. But despite his disheveled look, he certainly was a very attractive man, you came to realize. Your eyes widened, as you looked him over. You studied his prince-like features and his broad build. You hadn’t even noticed that your whole face began to feel warm.

You coughed awkwardly and quickly turned your gaze away. You focused instead on the utensils on the table nearby. What were you thinking? Staring at Hyunjae like that?

Adjusting the fork countless times quickly became boring. You bit your lip and winced.

It wouldn’t hurt to take one last glance, right?

Slowly, very slowly, you turned your head, only to find that Hyunjae was nowhere to be seen.

But then you heard a shift next to you and you startled, turning and looking down. And of course, there he was, kneeling before you. He was out of breath but god, he looked so handsome. His eyes were gentle and his lips lifted slightly as he looked up to you.

“Enjoying the view, Your Highness?”

Your lungs seized and you felt yourself go dizzy. As if you were stung by his words, you abruptly stood up and quickly turned away. You were sure you weren’t being that obvious...

You heard him laugh fondly from behind as he stepped in front of you. No matter how many times you tried to avoid his eyes, he would bend down and force you to look anyway.

“You weren’t supposed to notice,” you muttered quietly.

“I guess.” He nodded. “But I like your eyes on me.”

If you weren’t at your breaking point then, you were now. You cringed with an incoherent sound and tried to walk away but you felt a gentle hand take yours. You whipped around, only to meet his expectant look.

“You said you wanted to find something to do, right?”

You sighed and reluctantly let him lead you through the ballroom. Hyunjae easily found a table that still needed to be set up while you… you were more focused on that whole situation from before. Every time you thought about it, you had to look away with reddening cheeks.

You glanced over to the empty spot in the middle of the ballroom which was designated for dancing. “Do you know what kind of dance there will be?”

Hyunjae looked at you as if you were joking. “The slow dance, is it not?”

“Still, that’s disappointing. I want something more fun.”

“Funny that you think there’s anything remotely fun at these types of royal events.” He abruptly paused and looked at you regretfully. He was staring at you like a deer in headlights over the fact that he just said that to you, a royal member. “Uh, I didn’t mean—“

You burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I get what you mean.” You grinned mischievously. “We should leave early if that’s what you would like. I know a spot.” You led him out of the ballroom and began to walk through the halls.

“That’s up to you.” He looked at you in amusement, easily catching up with your fast strides. “Not me.”

You pretended to think like you didn’t already have your decision in mind. “Then… I say we escape as soon as we can.” You gave him a playful wink.

To your surprise, Hyunjae smiled. It was a wide one this time, unlike the subtle or teasing ones from before. You tilted your head, slightly endeared. “Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? You should do it more.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

You grimaced. “This is weird.”

“What’s weird?”

“You being so… obedient,” you whined. “I was just getting used to your insults.”

He huffed, slightly flustered. “I… I guess it’s because I’ve been wrong about you, that’s all.”

You widened your eyes and looked at him. “Really? How so?”

His gaze lowered. He looked almost embarrassed. “It was nothing too serious. I just… had past experiences when I wasn’t a bodyguard yet. I assumed you would be the same.”

Your wide eyes immediately softened. You already knew who he was talking about and you never once agreed with them.

Your voice was quiet. “Is that why you hated me all this time?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “And I sincerely apologize.”

You gave him a soft smile and lightly bumped into his shoulder, making him look up from the floor. He still wore an ashamed face but you could see that his stern eyes had melted. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“What do you mean?” You snorted. “I argued with you too. I should have tried to understand you first.”

He leaned closer to you as the exit came into view. “And I should have told you earlier. We weren’t the most mature, huh?”

You laughed loudly and you didn’t know what came over you but you suddenly grabbed onto his arm as you two walked through the door and out to the private garden. This one was different than the one you were in previously. It was closed off by glass walls, rather than out in the open. But most of all, it was romantic and even more beautiful with dim lighting and colorful flowers lining a trail.

Holding onto his firm arm, you felt a sudden sense of peace. You felt like you were truly safe and protected.

Who knew that the man that you would refuse to look at would become your bodyguard who made you smile more times than you expected?

He stared quietly at your arms that were looped around his and he cleared his throat nervously. You could see that he had even straightened up and became more alert.

You smirked at him teasingly. “Why, do you feel more important now?”

He rolled his eyes fondly but shook his head. “It’s not me. It’s you. I feel like you’re the most important person at the moment.”

You choked on air and promptly turned to face forward, afraid that Hyunjae would notice your embarrassment. The two of you silently walked through the garden, admiring the various flowers.

“And just so you’re aware,” you started. “I hope that you feel comfortable with me. I promise that I won’t treat you like how they did. I hope you can trust me…” Your voice trailed off once you noticed Hyunjae staring down at you with a stupidly handsome smile. You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing.” Despite his response, he wouldn’t stop looking at you. Something about how he always stared at you and never failed to look away made you feel your own pulse in your ears.

The two of you arrived at the center of the garden. Yet again, it was beautiful. But what you found most beautiful was the light feeling in your chest as you leaned against Hyunjae.

“Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” His gaze was warm even in the cooler atmosphere.

You eyed the empty space around you. There was no one else around. Just you and him, standing in the center of a garden that sparkled with dew. “Do you know how to dance?”

He gave you a skeptical look. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re my escort to the ball, of course!” You giggled. “You have to slow dance with me at some point.”

There was a slight blush that appeared on his cheeks. “That never… crossed my mind,” he said.

You gave him a teasing look. “So you don’t know?” When he didn’t give you a response, you couldn’t help but laugh, hopelessly endeared. He was always the tough one, but it seemed that when it came to the small romantic things, he was clueless. The more you noticed just how flustered he had become, the harder you laughed. You doubled over before almost falling straight into his chest.

Two hands grasped your waist, holding you steady. You were still laughing but it had quieted down. Hyunjae couldn’t even look you in the eye yet he continued to hold you from falling.

“Don’t be so… clumsy, Your Highness,” he muttered, tripping over his words slightly at how close you were to him. “Not knowing how to dance shouldn’t be so funny to you,” he later grumbled quietly to himself.

You smiled and straightened up. You moved one of your hands to his shoulder as the other held onto one of his, pulling it away from your waist. “I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s cute.”

Hyunjae blinked before clearing his throat and turning away. But then, without a warning, you began to lead him through the basic slow dance. He slowly looked back at you in surprise.

“We can simply sway side to side,” you explained gently. Then, you eyed where his hand was still holding onto his waist. “And don’t let go.”

Hyunjae was silent before he adjusted his hand to yours, intertwining your fingers. Then, he whispered quietly, “I was never planning to.”

You laughed bashfully. There was no music–just the shuffle of your clothes and the distant ruffle of nearby flowers and bushes. But you could hear it in your ears, feel it in your fingertips, see it through your eyes, the fondness and admiration that you both began to share.

Hyunjae was still a bit awkward with dancing. Sometimes, he would stumble or tighten his hold on your waist. Every so often, he would whisper a small apology.

You hummed fondly and shifted just a bit closer. He inhaled quietly and stared down at you with fluttering eyes. But despite his distractions, he slowly became more and more confident in slow dancing with you, even pulling you closer so that you could rest your cheek on his chest.

Except there was something else you could hear. The loud beating of his heart. It was fast and it was almost pounding. You smiled softly.

“You’re quite handsome when you’re like this, Hyunjae.” You pulled away to look up at him. He bit back a smile and shook his head.

“And if I may tell the truth…” His voice lowered as if he truly only wanted you to hear what he was about to say. “You look truly stunning right now, Your Highness.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. He smiled smugly. And then, like a perfect harmony, the two of you started laughing at the same time. The sparkles in his eyes and his bright smile perfectly mirrored. And you were sure that the pounding of his heart did as well.

Suddenly though, you were interrupted by your own yawn. His gaze looked you over in slight concern. “Would you like to stop now?” He looked up and out to the evening sky, littered with faint stars.

“Mhm,” you sighed, glancing down. “These shoes are not comfortable for dancing. They hurt.” Slowly, as if you didn’t want to let go–you truly didn’t–you stepped away from him. Your waist still felt warm with his touch and your hand tingly from his palm.

Then, he leaned down to look you in the eye. “Would you like me to carry you?”

Almost instantly, your mind flashed to an image in your mind. You quickly shook it away with a growing blush on your cheeks.

“No! I’m fine,” you blurted out, making your way back to the door. You could already feel his teasing smile and so, despite your uncomfortable shoes, you began to run down the hallway. But yet again, he was your bodyguard. He would always be following you.

“The offer’s still on the table,” he called out.

“No!”

–

You shifted nervously as you stood in front of your bedroom door. You played nervously with your hair as you glanced down at your formal wear. You never expected to be so anxious for a ball until you were dressed up in something so sparkly and stunning that you began to doubt if you even worth wearing such a thing.

With a shaky sigh, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Hyunjae would be standing outside and you didn’t know what to think. All that really was on your mind were the possibilities. Would he smile at the sight of you? Would he look you over? Would he… say something?

But when you opened to the door, you faced an empty hallway. It was bustling downstairs with everyone preparing the food and drinks to be served. But upstairs, it was quiet. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and stepped out. You glanced on either side, only for Hyunjae to be nowhere in sight.

But then, there was one other room that had its light on. The library. You slowly approached it and opened the door. There Hyunjae was–or specifically his back as he seemed to be working on something. As soon as he heard your footsteps, he hurriedly put it away and stood up quickly.

“There are you are,” you breathed in relief. “I was looking for you.” Your gaze travelled across his whole body. He looked handsome in his suit and ever so charming with his hair done up precisely–except for that one piece that stuck out, giving him a more youthful and playful look. You felt like you could just swoon at the moment.

You hadn’t even noticed his absolutely smitten look as his eyes wandered over you as well.

“Well don’t you look beautiful,” he muttered quietly, staring at you with a soft gaze.

Immediately, you were sputtering out sounds that didn’t form a single word. You tried to bring your hands up to cover your face but he took them and set them down gently. You frowned at his knowing smile.

“Why? Are you shy?”

You scoffed, trying to play it cool. It obviously wasn’t working considering how he chuckled quietly. “I miss when you hated me.”

He leaned in, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “I don’t. Because then, I’d miss seeing your smile.”

“Sh-shut up, you stupid flirt,” you whined, pulling away and making a beeline to the door.

As the two of you walked toward the ballroom, you turned to ask Hyunjae something, only to find that he was deep in thought about something. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pulled into a small frown.

“Is there something bothering you?”

He startled slightly and glanced at you before immediately denying, “Nothing to concern you, Your Highness.”

“Please tell me.” You smiled. “I might be able to help.”

He eyed you skeptically before letting out a defeated sigh. “It’s foolish. I think I have a crush on someone. And… I don’t know what to do about it.”

You nodded. “So it’s that type of situation… then why don’t you confess?” When he stared at you like you were crazy, you laughed, completely unfazed. “Just get it out there.”

“Easier said than done.” And you didn’t know why but the way he looked at you as he said those words was so… different. His gaze was full of longing, you realized. But why at you? “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Hmm…” You bit your lip as you pondered. “Then until you’re ready to tell them, continue to take care and protect them in the meantime.”

He gave you a soft smile and you gasped quietly when you felt your hand being placed on his arm. He held you close to his side as you two faced the entrance to the ball. You could already hear the bustle of guests and the clink of wine glasses inside. Hyunjae turned to look at you with a reassuring smile. You would think that you didn’t need it considering you were so used to these events. But really, it was your hand on his arm that made you feel nervous.

“Ready?” He interrupted your thoughts.

The hushed whispers and interested murmurs were deafening to your ears as the doors opened. You blinked profusely as the lights came shining upon the two of you. Once your eyes adjusted, your heart raced at the faces of awe at the sight of you and Hyunjae, walking into the ballroom with your hand on his arm.

“Is that a prince?” You could hear one mutter in admiration.

“They look like the perfect couple…”

You grinned and looked up to Hyunjae. He gave you a slightly forced smile. You could tell he was nervous yet he still remained protective over you, holding you close to his side.

The two of you wandered out of the spotlight and began to join the other guests. You tried your hardest to ignore the looks of others. They were always gossiping and always had something to say. Instead, you chose to focus on Hyunjae.

Hyunjae.

You could sigh dreamily like one of those characters in the romance books you used to read. How could a bodyguard be so… prince-like?

“Your Highness?”

You shook your head out of your trance. “Hyunjae?”

“How are you doing on this beautiful night?” He smiled, bowing down politely. You burst out laughing. The two of you had been together for the past twenty minutes yet now, he decided to act like this. He tilted his head teasingly. “I saw you were a bit distracted.”

“Hm?” You grinned knowingly. “Distracted? By what?”

“Me,” he whispered into your ear.

“Really?” You stepped closer, reaching your hands to fix his collar. It was perfectly ironed already but you relished in the way his ears tinted red when your fingertips grazed his neck. Then you looked up and straight into his eyes. You could hear his breath hitch. “Is it that obvious?” You whispered, with a teasing smile.

You didn’t care if there were hundreds of guests surrounding you, possibly staring at the two of you flirting. All that you could see was Hyunjae and only him.

“It is,” he muttered, quickly regaining his composure. “But I’m no better. You distract me all the same.”

His hands were gentle as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. His eyes wandered over your features and then down to your whole body. He didn’t say anything but through his soft gaze, you could read what his mind was thinking like a book.

Pretty.

Then he stepped away. For a moment you felt disappointed until you saw him holding a hand out for you to take.

“May I have this dance?” He bowed slightly, looking up at you with expectant eyes. It didn’t help that the one hair strand still adorably stuck out like a puppy’s hair would.

“Of course,” you giggled, taking his hand. He smiled fondly as he led you to the dance area. Seamlessly, the two of you blended in with the other couples, slow dancing with lovesick smiles.

Hyunjae held you tenderly by the waist and his hand fit with yours perfectly. Just a look at his handsome face was enough to leave you breathless. He seemed like he was incredibly skilled in holding eye contact with his soft gaze that never left yours. You on the other hand… were not faring very well.

You bit your lip, struggling to look him in the eye. Why was he making you so nervous? Why did his hand on your waist make you feel jittery? And why…

“Look at me,” he whispered, grabbing your attention.

You snapped your head up. “It’s hard to.”

He chuckled. “Isn’t slow dancing about trusting your partner? Do you not trust me?”

“I do.”

“Then look at me,” he repeated with a teasing voice. “I like when you do.”

You had to resist the urge to shut your eyes in embarrassment. You swallowed nervously. When you said you trusted him, you meant it. You allowed him to lead you throughout the ballroom—allowed him to guide you through the several people you could’ve bumped into. But instead, he kept you safe. He protected you.

“Your Highness.”

“Hm?”

He gave you a slightly embarrassed look as he glanced around. You couldn’t help but think it was cute how fast his flirty demeanor could fall. “If I may be honest, I do feel a bit out of place here.”

Your heart sank. It was understandable how he was still hesitant, especially with what he had confided in you recently. “Then please, focus on me just like you want me on you.”

His hand tightened on yours. “I already am.” He gave you an earnest smile. You smiled back.

The two of you were lost in each other’s eyes, naturally moving to the calming yet romantic music that surrounded you. Your heart beat faster than the pace of the violin but you didn’t care, knowing that Hyunjae wasn’t any different. You knew because of when you laid your head on his chest that time in the garden.

But, like a record scratch, you heard your name from behind you, spoken by a snarky voice.

“What’s their name, Y/n?” A man spoke to another. You could tell by his tone that he would have nothing good to say. “They aren’t even all that special. And they were the only reason why I came to this ball.”

Hyunjae’s face hardened as he glanced behind you, already pinpointing the two men talking about you. You stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Have you seen the way they act?” The other griped. “So… improper and nothing like a royalty.”

You gulped and looked to Hyunjae. His jaw was clenched and his hand on your waist had tightened. Though, it was never enough to hurt.

Suddenly, the music was too loud. Your feet hurt and the chatter of others was painfully blaring. But most of all, it was the two men’s voices that scratched your eardrums the most. You two were still dancing but it had slowed down.

“I’d still take them out on a date,” The other laughed mockingly. “But only to inherit their fortune.” And god, how their cackles stung your very soul.

You gasped and furrowed your eyebrows. Hyunjae kept you from ever facing them, always switching the direction so your back was turned. But he was mad, you could tell–furious to be exact. Then, he looked down at you and his gaze softened at your hurt expression.

And like something snapped in him, he let go of your waist and pulled you around so that you were right behind him. “Stay here with me,” he whispered. He shielded you protectively as he walked over to the two men, standing near the drink bar, swirling their glasses obnoxiously with their even more irritating smiles.

“Hyunjae–”

“We can hear your loud voices from here,” Hyunjae spoke condescendingly. “I hope that you’re aware of that.” The two men jumped and stared at him. You couldn’t help but marvel over how Hyunjae so easily towered over them. One of them was already cowering, backing away while the other huffed stubbornly.

“And who might you be?” The man gave him a twisted smile.

You peeked out from Hyunjae’s side and answered for him, “My bodyguard.”

And that seemed to be what did it for the man. His eyes widened and his voice stuttered. “Y-your Highness! What a pleasant surprise!” He laughed nervously, glancing around with fear.

Hyunjae tilted his head and he stepped forward, further towering over him. His broad shoulders loomed like a shadow that was awfully intimidating yet… attra–

“Say anything about them again and I will personally do anything to ruin your life,” he muttered with a low voice. Your heart skipped a beat as you tightened your hand on his.

“What can you do?” The man lifted his head high which frankly, didn’t do much. You could tell by how his hands shook that he was terrified. “I’m a prince. And you’re just a lowly bodyguard.”

You winced and tried to pull Hyunjae away. You didn’t want him to get hurt again, not after you promised him that he would be treated right. But instead, Hyunjae stayed where he was as his jaw clenched.

“A bodyguard whose job is to protect them. Something that you clearly cannot do,” Hyunjae replied, looking over the prince with an unimpressed look. “So, I don’t see the problem here.” That was when he turned around and led you away. Or, at least tried to, until the man called out again with a loud voice.

“You’re protecting someone who barely acts like a proper royal member,” he growled. “Y/n doesn’t deserve–”

You felt your hand being let go, causing you to gasp and whip around. Soon enough, you were met with the sight of Hyunjae, his hands grasped around his collar, so tight that his knuckles were white. The man now was clearly full of fear, his eyes pleading as he tried to scramble away. But Hyunjae didn’t let go, instead tightening his hold with a threatening look. It was subtle–his eyes darkened and jaw tight.

Everyone was looking now, murmurs and shocked gasps filling the room. You stumbled forward but were stopped by one of the staff members holding you back to keep you safe. You watched as other guards came rushing forward to break everything up. The prince’s collar was crumpled and he could barely speak out of sheer terror. Hyunjae on the other hand, was standing there with clenched fists. Then, immediately he looked to you to make sure you were okay.

You quickly escaped the staff member’s hold and approached him. Gently, you took his wrist because you could tell he still wanted to punch the prince square in the face. Then you pulled him close so that you could whisper into his ear.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“But–”

You smiled, slightly amused. “It’s okay.”

He froze and his tense muscles softened as soon as his eyes took in your smile. He quietly nodded.

“Come on,” you laughed fondly, pulling him along and out of the ballroom. The two of you ran down the same path to the garden with your hand wrapped around his wrist the whole time.

You led him to sit on a 1bench, a beautiful spot surrounded by gorgeous flowers lit by the nearby lamps. The night sky was scattered with twinkling stars and it was a calming quiet. Immediately, you took his hand and opened it.

“Look,” you whispered with a worried expression. You frowned, taking in the gash on the palm of his hand where the sharp button of the prince’s outfit had cut him. “You got hurt. You shouldn’t have done that for me.”

You reached under the bench and pulled out a first-aid kit, typically for the gardeners who got cut from rose thorns and such. You quickly cleaned the wound and began to wrap the cut with a rolled bandage.

All the while, Hyunjae was staring at you with a straight mouth but with a soft, loving gaze. Then, he huffed and gave you an adorably angry frown as he rolled his eyes. You could tell he was still being protective.

“I couldn’t ignore it. He hurt you.”

You laughed warmly, as you secured the bandage around his hand, patting it lightly. You looked up, only to inhale sharply at the way he was staring at you so intently–so… passionately.

“I’ve…” You gulped, trying to find your voice again. “I’ve heard far worse. But thank you, Hyunjae.”

He smiled. If he was handsome in the ballroom, he was even more handsome now. The dim light perfectly emphasized his features and his hair no longer was in that perfect updo. It was messy yet it fit him perfectly.

“But seriously!” You whined, slightly startling him. “Why did you protect me like that?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s my job. I’m a bodyguard.”

“Hm,” you thought for a moment, looking up to the stars that so beautifully mirrored the sparkles in Hyunjae’s eyes that only seemed to appear when he was looking at you. “I thought that meant physically. Not standing up for me. You know I can handle myself right?”

Hyunjae looked down at his lap.

“Just… let me take care and protect you.”

You stared at him blankly. Your lack of response caused him to look up at you nervously and regretfully as if he was scared you would realize something. And then it hit you. What you said earlier…

“Then until you’re ready to tell them, continue to take care and protect them in the meantime.”

You straightened and you could feel your heart seize. “The person you were talking about. It’s me, right?”

He choked. “I–”

Immediately, you were giving him a teasing look as you scooted over to lean into his side. “There’s no use in hiding it now,” you sang.

He stared at you with adorably wide eyes before he let out a defeated sigh. “Fine, yes. I may have a crush on you.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth exaggeratedly as if you hadn’t already figured it out before. “For how long?” You cut yourself off with a gasp. “Don’t tell me… you were mean to me to actually hide your feelings?”

“No, no, I did actually hate you.”

“Oh.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he blushed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

You giggled. Oh, how you loved teasing him. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“But I saw how kind you were and… I realized you were different.” He gave you a fond look. “And Your Highness, you are so beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever gotten to know.”

Your cheeks were warm, even under the cool night air. You leaned into his side, staring up at him with a stupidly giddy smile.

“And my dear Hyunjae,” you spoke, your voice teasing yet sincere either way. “You have won over my heart.”

“Really?” You could see that he was truly relieved, even past his smug smile.

“Mhm,” You hummed. “Really.” And then you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He stared at you with wide eyes before practically melting and smiling like he had truly fallen for you. And it seemed, based on what he said, he did.

Then, he straightened and reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.” He pulled out a crocheted flower. It was a rose. A few of the stitches were messed up but it was beautiful anyway.

Your eyebrows raised. “For me? You… made this?”

He cleared his throat, trying to look nonchalant and tough. “I tried.”

Instantly, you were smiling so wide your face hurt. You twirled the rose around, admiring the effort he made. “This is so cute!” Your eyes softened. “Thank you.”

He stared at you, still slightly dazed by your kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome.”

You paused and then gave him a sly look–one that sent him looking away nervously. “You know I could just kiss you right now.”

He watched quietly as you set the rose gently down on the bench and turned to him. You noticed how his eyes struggled to stay on the upper side of your face. Rather, they kept wandering down to your lips.

“On the cheek?” His voice was so quiet that you had to lean in close to hear him which in turn, made him blush furiously.

You shook your head, peering up at him with doe-like eyes that made him swallow thickly. “No. On the lips.”

He inhaled sharply and tried to act normal but he was nothing like it. Rather, it seemed like he was losing it, his eyes darting across your features with a look of want and infatuation. “I… I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Really?” You grinned.

He nodded and as if he couldn’t get any more endearing, he shut his eyes and leaned forward. His lips slightly pouted as he waited expectantly for you to press yours on his. But instead, you giggled, your breath fanning over his lips, causing him to blink.

He immediately was filled with embarrassment as he cleared his throat, almost choked, and tried to hide his face somehow.

“Why didn’t you…”

“Because first, you have to do something for me.” You scrunched your nose, poking his cheek.

It seemed that he had momentarily forgotten that he was a bodyguard who served under you. He immediately straightened and gave you a stern look that seemed to be on the verge of melting if you ever so smiled. “What is it, Your Highness?”

You suppressed a laugh. Then, you placed a finger under his chin, lifting it up.

“You need to call me by my real name first. Not Your Highness. My name.”

“That’s a bit unprofessional,” he replied hesitantly.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that what we have is at all professional?”

He chuckled and quickly, the tables turned as he set your hand down and instead wrapped a hand around your waist. He pulled you close, earning him a surprised gasp.

“Truly professional, Y/n,” he whispered, glancing down to where you were almost sitting in his lap.

You were so focused on his gentle hold on you that you almost missed the name that had left his lips. You brightened and stared up at him with wide eyes. “Hyunjae,” you breathed. “Say it again.”

“Y/n.” He leaned closer, cupping a hand around the side of your face.

“Again,” you whispered, your heart pounding.

“Y/n.”

You were silent and he stared at you as if waiting for a cue. And finally, you whispered once again, his name.

“Hyunjae.”

And just like that, you felt two hands cup your face this time and a pair of lips being pressed to yours. The sheer passion he put into that first kiss sent you reeling and your balance completely off if it wasn’t for the hand around your back that steadied you. His other hand wrapped around your legs, pulling them over his lap so that he could hold and kiss you like it was his sole duty.

You didn’t know what to do with your hands for a while until you ultimately wrapped them around his neck and tangled them into his hair. You could feel him breathily laugh against your lips and if you peeked an eye open, you would see him smiling dearly.

So he wasn’t just a good bodyguard but a good–no–great kisser too?

And to make you even more flustered, he pressed another kiss to your forehead before he pulled away.

Dumbly, all you could say was another weak, “Hyunjae.”

“Y/n?” He offered you a knowing smile as he noticed the way your breath hitched at your name being spoken from his lips. You could tell he was proud of his effect on you.

“Hyunjae, I hate you.” You feebly tried to slap him but he caught your hand with ease, instead intertwining your fingers with his.

“I hate you too, gorgeous.” Then, he led you up to stand with him. Yet another thing you hated: how he made your legs horribly weak. Your ears tuned into the music that leaked from the ballroom and it seemed that Hyunjae could hear it too. Then, he began to slow dance with you, much to your surprise. “I believe our little dance was interrupted before.”

“Yeah, because you did something stupid.”

He tried to protest but when you gave him a warning look, he sighed and nodded. “Fine, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

You humphed. “That’s what I thought.” Before you could add anything else, he quickly leaned in to press another kiss on your lips.

“For safe measure.”

“Safe measure for what?”

“To make sure that I was right that you taste sweet.”

You groaned and hid your face in his chest. But of course, he played along and pulled you into a tight hug.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

You snorted, pulling away to look up at him. “Hey, you already know my schedule. And you’re following me around anyway.”

“Exactly.” He gave you a soft smile. “So let’s go on a proper date.”

Your eyes sparkled before you closed them and leaned your cheek back on his chest. His heart thumped in rhythm with yours. It thumped in perfect harmony with the rustle of the nearby flowers. It thumped with something akin to warmth.

#hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #requests 💞#fics 💞

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fineprintedsunsets · 8 months

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JAWBREAKER

This Is For Haunted Hoedown Day 1 | My Haunted Hoedown Master-List

Synopsis: Bucky's been hired to watch you as a favor to his best friend; your father. But when a game of spin the bottle has Bucky choking on his words, he just can't help himself anymore.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (both are consenting adults). dbf!bucky x f reader. mentions of violence against others (nothing undeserved) jealous bucky. unprotected sex. (wrap it before you tap it.) dirty talk. possessive bucky. p in v sex. is a hired bodyguard a stalker? maybe? idk. lots of praise + pet names.

taboo au + "this is fucked up" "you like it"

How Bucky ended up at a Halloween party for drunk teenagers was a mystery. A ghost-themed one at that. Kids who he wasn't even sure should be drinking clutched red solo cups filled with various alcohol, laughing obnoxiously and passing hushed whispers.

He rolled his eyes.

Teenagers.

He was sent here by your father, and although he loved the man (practically his best friend) this was the one event he regretted agreeing to accompany you to. You were 19, and why you wanted to go to a ghost-themed party with sixteen and seventeen-year-olds was beyond him.

Nevertheless, he agreed to supervise you for your father's sake. The second he steps foot through the frilly-decorated entrance, he smells the overpowering scent of marijuana and Axe cologne.

Thank god he didn’t grow up in an era where boys would wear that shit and think they were the coolest fuckers around. His nose turns up, turning to its source. It was indeed three teenage boys with what must have been a gallon of gel in their hair and crooked smiles splayed on their features.

They accompany a girl at the table, he can't see her features due to the blocking backs of the boys, but he can see one of them lift their fingers to brush ever so slightly against her arm.

The girl moves away, and when she does, Bucky's eyes catch on her.

It’s you, his best friend's daughter. He tries hard not to let his eyes linger on you, knowing he has only one job here tonight, and it’s to keep you out of harm's way. There was only one problem with that. Your father kept most of his work life hidden away from his wife and since he worked with a lot of cruel people, he decided not to involve you either.

Which means you had never met his best friend. You didn’t even know he had one. Bucky was sent here to watch you from afar, your dad didn’t want you to know he sent someone to supervise you every single time you went out.

You pass the boy a look, awkwardly shaking your head. You attempt to laugh it off and walk away, but the boy grabs your wrist. Bucky bristles where he stands against a wall, having just entered.

He can’t approach you, he couldn’t risk you finding out who he was. But oh how he wanted to break all twenty-eight of Jelly Hair’s pitiful knuckles.

“Let go, Jake.” You growl out, but Jelly Hair won’t let up, wrapping his digits around your tiny wrist and forcing you to sit back down. It angers him, how the other boys he’s sitting with laugh at his antics.

A loud crunching sound echoes from someone over at your table and Bucky leans away from the wall, getting ready to intercept, thinking he may have hit you. He should be ashamed of the anger that blossoms through his chest.

Jake’s fingers slip from your wrist as the other boys jump up. Jelly Hair turns toward the door where Bucky is standing, allowing him to spectate the blood now running from his nose.

He can’t help the smile that graces his features.

You hit him.

“My girl” Bucky finds himself whispering. He tucks his hand in his pockets, moving away from the entrance and more profound into whoever's house this is. White lights flash from the rooms as music blares from speakers in the living room.

Everyone is dressed like a ghost, some people; like you are wearing a t-shirt that displays a cute drawing of a supernatural creature. Others wear sheets with glasses placed overtop of them, or uneven eye-holes cut out of the white fabric.

Bucky grabs a solo cup and fills it up with Cola, the only non-alcoholic drink on the ping-pong table. His metal fingers grip the cup and bring it to his lips, only to spit it back into the cup.

“What the fuck.” He mutters, scrunching his face in distaste. He does a double take on the bottle, bringing the contents up to his nose, Rum.

It’s fucking Rum Coke.

He takes the cup anyway, having no intention to sip from it anymore. He blends in this way, holding a solo cup just like the other hundred people here. His blue eyes search for you in the crowd, spotting you right away, your body settled on the lap of a man, early 20’s he’d say.

A feeling he’s all too familiar with when it comes to you surges through his veins, seeing the white skirt you're wearing hike up, allowing him and everyone else to see his hand knead at your ass.

Bucky’s jaw clenches as he watches you lean into the man, your lips wrapping around his, your eyes closing. Bucky has no idea who he is, but whoever he is, his dick is growing hard under you, having very clear intentions of what he’s about to do. And Bucky will be damned if he allows you to get fucked by this piece of shit.

Not that it should matter to him. You should have a man that would treat you right, protect you, pleasure you. Not this dick-wad who wants a quick fuck. Your father wanted him to keep you out of trouble, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

At least, it’s what he tells himself.

Bucky watches for a few more seconds as you rub yourself over his cock, painfully humping it. He knows you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it, it’s evident on your face. The dick-wad beneath you is, and that’s what makes Bucky’s fingers ball into tight fists, making him grind his teeth down again, on the verge of breaking his goddamn jaw.

That’s what you were.

A fucking jawbreaker, surely you were smarter than this. You had to have known you were worth so much more. You had to know dick-wad couldn’t make up for a quarter of that amount.

“Spin the bottles starting downstairs!” A girl announces from the banister. She’s drunk, very drunk, Bucky notices. She also must be the owner of the way her fingers wrap around the railing.

He could just tell.

Bucky feels the relief flood his chest when you turn away from the man, clearly seeing a good excuse for escape. He growls but lets you go as he soon follows suit. Bucky has no interest in watching you play spin the bottle, but of course, he has not all a choice.

He couldn’t decide whether it was his job, (why he was here in the first place, he’s had to repeat that to himself a few times throughout the night.) Or because he didn’t want to watch a bunch of horny teenagers shove their fucking tongues down your throat, heat bloomed in his chest, mixing with anger.

Either way, he would have to break more than fourteen knuckles tonight.

✪

Bucky’s already taken his place on the wall, going unnoticed as the kids gather around in a circle, sitting with their legs crossed, fixated on the bottle that is situated in the middle.

You sit on the right side, next to some other girls he recognizes.

Women.

You were 19 years old for god sake.

The woman from earlier, the owner of the house, Bucky had now learned the name of, Jess plops next to the man from earlier, her eyes analyzing all the players. Other people stand, just here to spectate the game, giving Bucky plenty of cover.

“We need one more player!” Her voice slurs, looking up from her sitting position, searching for the correct person to fill the gap right across from you. Your eyes search around with Jess’s until both pairs land on him.

No.

Absolutely fucking not.

“What’s your name?”

Bucky grinds his teeth together again, he’ll be very surprised if he has teeth after tonight.

“James.” He grits out, trying his very best to seem like he doesn't want to be here. Which isn’t very hard.

He doesn't.

“You look a bit old to be here, James.” Jess' eyes roam the others, looking for the attention she so desperately wants. The others let out faux chuckles. Bucky can still feel your eyes burning through his, even though over fifty pairs are now aimed at him, you stick out.

You always have.

“Who invited their dad, guys?” Jess pokes again, her ghastly features twisting in a terrible laugh. Other people laugh now, but Bucky doesn’t mind. You don’t laugh, your features scrunch at Jess’s words. The man didn’t look old at all, older than a teenager sure, he was quite handsome.

“Come on, James. Join us!” You call, and the man's eyes immediately meet yours. You can’t help yourself, you gasp at the intensity of them, the beautiful blue irises that stare back at you.

Bucky still didn’t move from the wall, it was very evident he had no choice in this matter. “A little party never killed anybody, James.” Jess’s cat-like mouth squeaks.

“Bucky-” He corrects, heaving a sigh. “Just Bucky.” Bucky walks over to the circle, watching the gathering crowd part. Allowing him to sit like the rest of them, occupying the spot across from you.

“Let’s get started, Anon, Why don’t you spin first?”

Anon, a very stereotypical frat boy reaches for the bottle, his companions cheering behind him. The glass spins as everyone's eyes follow it, even Bucky’s.

The end lands on Jess, which is ironic. Bucky is checking off his mental checklist, he’s no matchmaker but..

Obnoxious Voices. Check. Annoying Presence. Check. Feline Like Faces. Check. Rich Pieces Of Shit. Check.

Those two were made for each other.

The two kiss awkwardly, the whole crowd kicking and screaming taunts, acting like children who just touched a deceased insect. Bucky settles into the hard-concrete floor, getting ready for a very excruciating game.

✪

It’s about an hour before you finally get the bottle in your hands. Everyone waits on bated breath as you capture your bottom lip between your teeth. You grab the bottle and spin, watching the glass glide across the concrete floor.

It clicks and clanks before it stops, and the endpoints to the stranger.

The older man that’s been stuck to the wall the whole party. You’ve never seen him before but were quite intrigued when you caught him looking at you during the game, pretending as if he wasn't.

The stranger's eyes flick open, looking at the end pointed towards him and then where you sit across from him. You smile to yourself as Bucky stays in his position.

The chanting starts when Jess’s voice echoes through the room, “You have to kiss the old man!” She’s 20, but acts like a five-year-old.

“Kiss!”

People around you repeat, and so you do the only logical thing to do. You place your hands in front of you and crawl to Bucky, knowing full well your skirt is riding up as you do so.

You can see his jaw clenching. You arrive in front of him, propping yourself up on your knees, Bucky's eyes look up at where you slightly tower over him.

You reach your fingers to graze his jaw, and when your fingers meet his subtle, the fifty pairs of eyes disappear. Right now, it’s just you and him. “Come here.” You mutter, bringing his face to yours.

Bucky hesitates, but lets it happen anyway. He’s captivated by you, you can tell. He wants to pull away but can’t.

Time seems to slow as your eyes close and your noses touch, stopping before letting your lips meet each other. Heat builds in your stomach, anticipation and want bubbling deep inside your core.

“This is fucked up.” He whispers, his breath grazing your wet lips.

“You like it.” You answer, before pulling his face to yours, your lips colliding in perfect harmony. Heat fills your stomach, settling itself between your thighs. Bucky’s hand comes up to cup your scalp, molding his palm to your head, crushing his lips against yours.

Your tongue slides into his mouth, entangling with his own. Your breath heaves as your stomach urges for more, your thighs pressing together in your kneeling position. You pull away before you can go any farther, breath heaving, a string of saliva still connecting your puffy lips.

The words that exit his mouth are barely audible, but you catch them. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“Get a room, lovebirds,” Jess calls, laughing with the others. But you ignore them, your eyes are still pulled into that trance, still feeling Bucky’s lips on yours.

The next thing you know, Bucky is getting up, his hand reaching for your own. You gulp at his gaze now, seeing the intensity switch to something different.

Something primal.

✪ Somehow you ended up in a closet, with Bucky’s breath fanning over your neck, his cock painfully straining against his jeans. It took all but four seconds for your clothes to be off, Bucky’s joined yours short after, pooling on the floor of the large closet.

“Sweetheart-” Bucky sounds breathless as he reaches out, his metal hand (which you okay with, apparently) running down the curve of your breast, dipping in your bra to twirl a cool digit around your semi-hard peak. (Especially when they made you feel like that.)

“How old are you?” You press, moaning as Bucky’s other hand cups your waist, making sparks fly up and down your skin. This closet, which is bigger than the master bedroom, has suddenly gotten small.

Bucky fights the urge to smack your ass in response, you didn’t care about age when you were grinding on that man’s cock.

“106.” He answers thoughtfully, but you only laugh, catching he wasn’t going to tell you his age. Bucky’s face scrunches in wonder, but it quickly fades when you press your body into his own, running your smooth fingers over his muscled abdomen.

“You sure you want to do this, baby?”

“Positive.”

Bucky brings your lips to his, all while taking hold of your hips, backing you into one of the closet's white walls. You engrossed in his touch, the feel of his fingers on your bare stomach, pushing you against the wall.

“I’d make you hump my cock, ‘show you what real pleasure is. But there’s no couch in here, sweet girl.” You feel your pussy clench at his words, you hadn’t known he was watching you then.

“Just gonna have to take me bare,” Bucky mutters, his hands grabbing your back, flipping you around so your palms are planted above you, your ass jutting out. His fingers knead at the meat of your ass, making sure to erase any hand-prints dick-wad may have left. You moan, bucking into his touch, wanting more.

“Greedy girl, you think you deserve my cock? Bare, too? You think you can handle that type of pleasure?” His fingers ghost over your panties, barely hitting your clit.

“Bucky! Please.”

Bucky smiles, knowing what he’s doing to you. If he wasn’t about to fuck you in a closet at a party he would tease you a lot more, and make you pay for letting that man touch you. You both knew you couldn’t wait that long, and neither could he.

Bucky pulls down your panties, noticing how your slick coats the fabric. “These are drenched, all for me, hmm?” He was so hesitant at first, to kiss and touch you, but now he didn’t give a shit.

You were his now.

Your panties soon joined the rest of your clothes. Bucky’s breath caught when he looked down at you, making your thighs clench together. He runs a metal finger through your folds, collecting your slick.

You cry out from the spark of pleasure, attempting to keep yourself up against the wall.

“You're so wet for me, sweet girl.” You feel lightheaded as Bucky releases himself from his boxers, you can’t see anything, only the white paint of the wall.

You can feel his tip nudge at your entrance, as he leans down, placing soft kisses along your back. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Okay? You want to be filled with my cock?”

“Yes!” You buck your hips, your eyes tightly closed as you feel his cock slide itself to the hilt, using your gathered arousal to aid in his thrust. You cry out, the stretch is both painful and pleasurable. Bucky groans, feeling the way you clench around his cock, feeling the tightness of your cunt.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Taking me so well.” For a few moments, you just stand there, Bucky letting you adjust to his cock, to the feeling of being filled up completely. You had sex before, plenty of it, but you never took a guy bare.

But Bucky, the way his cock sat inside of you, not even moving and it still shooting sparks into your stomach, was something you’d never thought you’d experience.

“Can I move, baby? You alright?” You nod your head while Bucky places another kiss on your back, pulling his cock out to the tip, and pushing back in.

“Ahh-”

“Feel good, sweetgirl?” Words simply do not exist anymore, Bucky whispers against you with each thrust of his cock, his movements slow at first, allowing you to take the most pleasure out of it, trying so hard not to cause you any pain.

The wet noises of your body's meeting over and over again fill the air, and somehow it drowns out the music of the party. Bucky’s groans and your moans tangle together as you buck your hips to meet his thrust, accommodating his cock.

“So good, baby.” You clench at his words, milking his cock. Bucky smiles, looking down at you.

Bucky’s metal arm comes around your bare stomach, making your thighs fall open wider, “Like when I praise you? Your pretty little pussy loves when I tell her she’s doing a good job, baby.”

A single digit finds your clit, Bucky rubs at it, slow tantalizing circles as you buck into him.

“I want you to come on my cock, I need to see this pussy clench around me harder.” Your body involuntarily does as he asks, your cunt clenching down on his cock as his thrusts speed their tempo and his finger matches the torture at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cry out, feeling your orgasm stirring deep in your belly, the heat from the room going straight to your head, encasing you in its bubble.

“That’s it.” Bucky praises, dragging out both words, “Good girl, come for me.”

You do, moaning loudly as your orgasm rushes through your veins, as Bucky chases his release, making sure you get over the edge first. His breaths come out in pants as his cock pushes into your cunt at a punishing speed. “I wonder how your daddy would feel if he knew you just came on his best friend's cock.”

“What?”

#marvel #masterlist #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #smut #buckbarnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader #buckybarnessmut #hauntedhoedownmasterlist #haunted hoedown #inklore #dbf!bucky #older man younger woman #consent

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sheeple · 5 months

Text

More CoD thoughts!! This time medieval!au with concubine!König Warning(s): fem!reader (idk if that is a warning but good to know) / I canon (this) König as blond FIGHT ME pls don't / a mention of brushing hair (do I have to mention is? idk)

So imagine you are an empress

And König is this colonel who has fallen from grace. He lost a battle or something which resulted in many men dead

And now he's on his knees in front of you, face downcast and awaiting your judgement

You're sitting up on your throne and watching the man, thinking deeply about what to do with him

Yes, he made a mistake and your people expect him to be punished for it. But you can't deny that he has been a great strategist

"Leave us", you order

Once everybody has left the throne room, you stand up and saunter down the stairs, dragging your skirts behind you

Circling the crouching man, you trace his shoulders

"Remove your helmet, colonel."

His hands falter for a moment before he reaches up and reveals his scared face

Light blue eyes look up at you as blond hair falls into them

Finding him way too handsome to kill, you give him a proposition

Be your war advisor disguised as a concubine

Because he needs to be 'punished' in the eyes of your subjects, but also all your war and army advisors haven't been on a battlefield for decades and are idiots

Your advisor of royal customs has also been pestering you about finding a husband or starting a harem (as you dismissed your father's concubines the moment you took over the throne)

Two birds with one stone

König hates the idea at first, but he knows it's better than being executed

But he realises once he is led to his chambers that maybe this isn't soooo bad

It's the first time in years that he sleeps on a decent bed and has quality food in his belly so he's not complaining

The first time König joins you in your strategy meetings, he scares the crap out of your advisors

I mean... the man is two metres tall, bulky and has scars all over his body

It also doesn't help that he is shirtless, so his battle scars are on full display

Every time one of your advisors says something stupid or something he doesn't agree with, König grunts/scoffs

It makes you turn your head towards him and he bows down to whisper in your ear what he has to say

10/10 times he's right

And your advisors quickly realise that the man knows what he's talking about, that he's not just a concubine that you keep bringing with you

They hate him

One thing that König has been dreading is being called to your chambers. He knows it is the job of a concubine to please his empress, but he was forced into this position

So, when he is called to your chambers one evening, he mentally prepares for the worst

Except, it's not like that

When he's let into your room by the royal guards, he finds you seated at a table set for two people with a beaming smile

You raise to your feet as König bows deeply

"Come, join me for supper."

He's sceptical at first, expecting a catch

But you reassure him with a laugh that you won't force him to do anything he's opposed and that it's just a dinner

You ask questions about his life in the army and where he grew up, about how his youth was

It becomes a daily ritual for the both of you

In the beginning, you have to invite him. But after a while, he makes his way to your chambers on his own. It evolves to you finding him already lounging around when you come back from your duties of the day

One day, he helps you undo your miraculously crafted hairdo and since then it has become something that he just does as you wait for the servants to set the table and bring the food out

You close your eyes content as König rakes a comb through your hair, working out the knots

Eventually, you and König feel the need to spend more time together

It goes from you reading in your private gardens and him swinging a sword around

To him joining you for your day whenever he can and acting like an unofficial bodyguard

He scares off any and everyone who he deems too close to his empress

I personally would be spooked if this two-metre-tall, scantly clad man loomed over the shoulder of the person I try to talk to

It's not long before König starts to develop feelings for you

He knows that it's wrong

But it's the way you're looking at him, treating him like an equal and laughing at his stupid jokes that make his heart flutter every time you do so

He snaps one day when you and him are in your gardens

You have your head resting on his thigh as you read out loud your book, your body fully relaxed in the warmth of the sun and the shade of the trees

König watches how the sun makes your eyes look magical

It makes the butterflies in his belly go on a rampage

Deciding he can't handle you being so close to him anymore, he excuses himself and flees to the safety of his room

It confuses you

But it breaks your heart when he doesn't join you for dinner anymore

You go over your interactions with him in your head, in search of anything that warrants this behaviour

The only time that you see him is when there is a war council, but he keeps quiet and doesn't interject any of your advisors and generals

Your mood sours the longer it goes on, genuinely scaring your servants and the lords

Their usually happy and chatty empress has transformed into a shell and slowly dulls in colour

You don't notice it until your lady-in-waiting suggests you take a break to your summer home for a couple of weeks

So, arrangements are made and your more breathable clothes are packed into trunks and placed on the carriages

You hesitate in front of König's door, not sure if you should ask him if he wants to come with

He has been ignoring you for a while now

So, decide against it and just leave

You sunbath and swim in the ocean all wearing thin, white summer dresses that turn see-through when wet

Your lady-in-waiting sits on the side, her feet in the water as she watches you

"Empress, may I speak freely?"

And after you nod her question makes you choke

"Does the imperial concubine not please you anymore?"

Meanwhile, back at the castle...

König is driving himself mad

He has to be close to you, even if it means to be an actual concubine

So imagine his surprise when he can't find you anywhere and a servant tells him you're at your summer palace

He immediately goes to grab a horse and hurries towards you

You're quite shocked to see a panicked könig arrive and stumble over his feet to get to you

He drops to his knees as you sit in the dining room, his head hanging in shame and chest rising rapidly

"Please...", he begs, "my foolish heart has been stolen by you and I can't live like this anymore. Please, my empress, I would do anything for just a smidge of affection from you. Just say it and it's yours. I'll steal the moon and stars for you. I'll... I'll be naked and ready for you every night to do with me as you please. Be an obedient concubine. Just please..."

You lay a hand on his cheek and the man whimpers as he looks up at you with tears in his eyes

"You foolish man."

You kiss him with all your might, stealing his breath away

"You were always more than just my concubine."

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

trouble

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: it's been almost two weeks since you've seen frank, and in his absence, you've been left in the questionably capable hands of billy russo.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death

word count: 6k

a/n: this is part 3 of this series! i'm so so so happy that you guys are enjoying bodyguard frankie. I still don't have a clear idea of how many parts this will be, but as long as you keep wanting it, i'll keep writing it. as a reminder, this is going to be a slow burn. ;) & as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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It had been two weeks since you had seen Frank. You had found out from one of the other bodyguards that he was on a special assignment, and was due back in another week or so. It was hard not to let your mind wander about where he was, what he was doing, who he was with…if he didn’t like being away from you as much as you despised being away from him.

He probably hasn’t thought about you once.

You shoved that thought as far back into your mind as you could, focusing back on the blank document that was currently mocking you from your computer screen. A knock sounded on your door, and as you looked up, you saw a face that you’d been seeing more and more of lately in Frank’s absence.

Billy Russo.

“Mr. Russo.”

“C’mon Y/N/N, how many times I gotta tell you to call me Billy. Mr. Russo’s so…formal.”

“Says the man always in a three piece suit.”

“I got appearances to keep up.”

Billy flashed you a charming grin as he smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket, undoing the middle button as he closed the door behind him and took a seat in the chair directly in front of your desk.

“Are you always this hands on with all of your clients? I’ve seen you more this past week than I’ve seen my own boss.”

“Nah, you’re a special situation that requires special attention.”

“Why’s that?”

Billy leaned back in the chair as he looked at you, that cheshire grin splitting further across his lips as he let his eyes wander shamelessly over your figure. Billy Russo was one of those guys that knew he was attractive, which only made him less attractive to you. He always looked too perfect. Always dressed in the most expensive suits, not a single hair ever out of place, beard always trimmed and neat, constantly being driven around in numerous luxury cars. While he wasn’t overly cocky, there was a smugness about him that made you want to roll your eyes every time he was around. Billy owned the company that Frank and the others worked for, but you hadn’t been able to figure out why he had been coming to visit you at least once a day for the past week.

“Told Frankie I’d look after you personally.”

Frankie.

You sat up a little straighter at the mention of Frank’s name, staring curiously at Billy as your face morphed into an expression of interest.

“Why?”

“Because he asked me to. Apparently, you like to cause trouble.”

Billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he adjusted the Rolex watch on his wrist, never once breaking eye contact with you. Whatever hope that had been ignited by the first half of his words was immediately snuffed out by the second half.

Frank wasn’t concerned about you. He had warned Billy about you.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned back into your chair and stared blankly at your computer.

“I’m not causing any trouble any time soon. Trust me.”

“Regrettin’ your decision that caused all this?”

Billy gestured between himself and the other bodyguards outside your office, the grin on his lips faltering as he stared at you with genuine novelty. Narrowing your eyes slightly as you stared back at him, you pursed your lips and shook your head defiantly.

“I didn’t cause anything.”

Tapping his index finger against the wood of the arm chair, Billy cocked his head to the side as he surveyed you silently for a moment.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“I feel like even if I say no you’re going to anyway.”

The playful smirk returned to Billy’s mouth as he held his hands up in surrender for a moment before letting them drop back onto his lap.

“You can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

Letting out a dry laugh, you rolled your eyes as you glanced around your office before focusing back on him, giving a gentle nod of your head.

“Go ahead.”

“Why did you do it?”

The faint smile on your lips disappeared at his question. You lightly dug your nails into your palms, a slight sense of enragement filling your veins as you stared blankly at the notes in front of you. People had been asking you that ever since the article came out, and you were sick of justifying yourself.

“Because I didn’t want those assholes to think I agreed with anything they stood for.”

“You did write an article praisin’ the Punisher. He took justice into his own hands. That’s what those guys think they’re doing-”

“I didn’t praise him. I wrote an article about the complexities of vigilantes and the weaknesses in the justice system. What the Punisher did wasn’t right, but he never hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. These…these cowards, they’re homegrown terrorists. They go after anyone that doesn’t agree with them-”

“And you thought it was smart to antagonize them?”

Billy leaned forward with his forearms on his thighs, staring directly into your eyes with a look of severity you hadn’t seen in him before. Shaking your head slowly, you let out a deep exhale of frustration before meeting his gaze again.

“They took my words and twisted them to fit and justify their own fucked up narrative. I didn’t want them or anyone else thinking for a second that I agreed with, or believed in their bullshit ‘cause’. They’ve hurt and killed innocent people. I wanted them to know exactly what I thought of them. And I’d do it all fucking over again, exactly the same. I don’t regret anything.”

Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to offend a group that had been terrorizing New York with various bomb threats and attacks, but you couldn’t sit idly by while they used your Punisher article to justify themselves. Maybe you shouldn’t have verbally eviscerated the leader that had called into your radio interview, or write that scathing follow up piece that further dismantled his ego. It certainly would have kept him from threatening you and everyone that worked at your paper, forcing Homeland Security to get involved, and causing you to walk around with an assigned shadow the past few months.

But what was your other option? Stay quiet and let them think you were on their side just because they were dangerous? Live in fear of pissing off some weak man with a fragile ego?

Fuck that.

Billy’s lips once again split into a wolfish grin, and his eyes almost seemed to be glowing with something that resembled pride. He nodded his head in a sign of respect, settling back into the chair as his eyes once again roamed over you.

“I see why he likes you.”

Blinking a few times, you stared in dumbfoundment as Billy’s words settled in your ears. A dark chuckle left his lips as he stood, buttoning his jacket up while he made his way over to your door. Pausing in the entryway, he lightly gripped onto the handle and looked at you over his shoulder with a smirk.

“See you Saturday night, doll.”

“W-what?”

“The gala. You’re goin’ still, right?”

“Uh…yeah. Why?”

“Who do you think is takin’ you in Castle’s absence?”

Stunning you silent for the second time in less than two minutes, Billy’s lips spread into a smirk as he dropped his left eye into a wink, closing your door shut behind him to leave you alone with a flurry of thoughts swirling around in your head like a snowglobe that had been violently shaken.

The gala.

Fuck.

Frank was supposed to be your escort. He was the primary one in charge of your detail at all times. Billy had assured your boss and Homeland that Frank was the best of the best, and the only time he swapped out with someone else was when they changed shifts during week nights. Or when he was pulled to do something that was more important than protect you from a terrorist group, apparently. A part of you wondered if he really was pulled, or if he had requested a break from you after the shit you had pulled.

There was no denying the disappointment you felt at the thought of not getting to see Frank all dressed up for a black tie event. It made sense Billy would be the one to take his place. He would blend in a lot easier than Frank, but he wasn’t who you wanted to spend the evening with. Dragging your palms down your face, you let out a deep exhale as you picked up your notes for the article you were supposed to be working on, the words blurring together in a jumbled mess as you read over them for the millionth time. You’d had an extremely hard time focusing lately with Frank being gone, trying your hardest not to think about the look on his face when he had left, the wedding ring around his neck, or anything about him. But now with Billy’s confession echoing in your ears, it was even harder.

I see why he likes you.

»»———　　———««

Billy was having the absolute time of his fucking life, and that annoyed you to your wits end. There wasn’t a single person in attendance at the gala he didn’t know, or didn’t seem to want to kiss his ass, and since you had promised not to cause any trouble, you weren’t to leave his side at all. Which meant you had to wait for him to finally shut the fuck up whenever you were ready for another trip to the open bar.

A tiny piece of you hated to admit that having Billy as your escort wasn’t all bad. He’d picked you up in a Rolls Royce and practically undressed you with his eyes, keeping his compliments professional but not bothering to hide the hunger in his voice. While it stroked your ego the way he kept eyeing you in your dress, you quickly remembered that Billy Russo hit on anything with tits and a heartbeat. It did make you breathe a little easier that he was such an important person though, hoping that meant no one would try anything with you while you were in his company, and that the night wouldn’t end in fireworks.

Sipping at your third glass of red wine, you watched as socialites and powerful political figures alike mingled in their fanciest outfits. An hour into the event you’d convinced Billy to let you sit at a table in his direct line of sight, growing bored of following him around like a shadow as he networked. Lightly trailing your index finger up and down the stem of your wine glass, your mind once again drifted to Frank. He wouldn’t have let you sit at a table all alone. He’d be the one following you around.

You wondered if he’d like your dress. It was a simple emerald green satin gown with a low cut back and a deep v line that stopped at your sternum. You’d originally picked it out with him in mind, wondering if the way it hugged your body and showed off your figure would finally get your resigned bodyguard’s attention. A dry laugh left your lips at the thought of him, knowing he realistically would’ve just grunted in response when you asked if he liked it, looking anywhere but at you as he scanned the room like a guard dog.

You missed Frank. You wondered if you would’ve gotten him to joke with you again if he had come tonight. You thought about picking out pretentious victims from the crowd with him, making up stories about who they were, misreading their lips on purpose knowing what they were actually talking about was far more ridiculous than anything the two of you could come up with. You wondered if he would’ve danced with you if you asked. You wondered if he would’ve asked.

You wondered where he was.

You wondered if he was with his wife.

Swallowing the rest of the bitter burgundy contents in your glass, you glanced up when Billy’s tall figure suddenly appeared in front of you. He eyed your empty glass, flickering his eyes to yours with a playful arch of one of his dark brows.

“You gonna pace yourself?”

“I’ll be fine. You’re lucky I’m not drinking tequila.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back into your chair and smoothed your dress out, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. Billy unbuttoned his suit jacket as he sat down beside you, turning his body towards you slightly.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone look so unhappy at a party.”

“I’m not unhappy.”

“You’re not havin’ a good time. What, I’m not good enough company for you?”

“How would I know? You’ve spent the whole night being the life of the party instead of my security escort.”

Billy stiffened slightly beside you, causing you to let out a deep exhale as you turned your head to look at him with an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. You weren’t even supposed to be babysitting me tonight. You should be having a good time for having to put up with my shit.”

Billy placed his hand on your wrist, causing you to face him again as he looked at you completely void of his usual playful charm.

“Hey, I’m not babysittin’ you. I’m here to look after you. I know Frank can be a bit too hands on, so I was givin’ you your space. Didn’t want you to feel suffocated, that’s all. But if I’m bein’ too hands off, I can change that. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

The sincerity in Billy’s voice caught you off guard, and it made you feel guilty. He didn’t hardly know you, and he certainly didn’t owe you anything. He was doing all of this because it was his job, and as a favor to Frank. Glancing around at all the people in attendance, you nibbled slightly at the inside of your cheek before looking back at Billy.

“Did…did he tell you about that night in the bar?”

Billy sat up a little straighter as his lips pressed into a set line, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.

“He did.”

“That was my fault. I fucked up. And all I’ve been able to think about since…is how any one of those guys could’ve been one of them, and that would’ve been it. I haven’t felt comfortable in a crowd since. Shit…I haven’t felt comfortable since I got that first death threat. But I wasn’t really…scared until that night. I don’t know what would’ve happened if-”

Letting out a shaky breath, you averted your gaze down to your lap, brushing your hair away from your face as you held onto the back of your own neck in an attempt to self soothe. You weren’t sure why you were telling Billy all of this. You weren’t sure why you were feeling so vulnerable and emotional. But you were suddenly feeling grateful for his presence as he took your hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Hey, nothin’ is gonna happen to you tonight. I promise. If you want me to stay with you, I will. I’ll go where you go. You want me to fuck off, I will. You just let me know what you need. You wanna leave?”

“No…no I didn’t…nearly have a breakdown in my bathroom because my hair wouldn’t cooperate just to leave so soon.”

The edge of Billy’s mouth curved upwards into a smirk, nodding slowly as he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his own hair to push it back into place.

“I know the feelin’.”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a soft laugh as you stared at him incredulously.

“Oh please. Like Billy Russo ever has a bad hair day.”

“Hey, you see the finished product, not the bloodbath it took to get there.”

Billy abruptly craned his neck to look past you, furrowing his dark brows as he nodded sharply at someone before glancing down at you with a softer expression.

“You excuse me for a sec? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go find the bathroom anyway.”

Billy paused in the middle of standing up, glancing between you and the hallway that led to where the bathrooms were, lifting his brows up slightly as he looked at you again.

“I can wait for you if-”

“No, it’s alright. Besides, I know you got eyes all over this place.”

Looking up at him with a soft smile on your lips, you watched as Billy’s lips pulled into a wide grin before he winked.

“Goddamn right I do.”

Never in a million years did you think you would be baring your soul to Billy Russo, or that confessing your fears to him would make you feel lighter, but surprisingly it did. Perhaps you had been just as wrong about him as you had been about Frank.

For the first time all evening, you felt like you could actually breathe. Billy’s words had a calming effect on you, and you didn’t feel anxious anymore as you walked alone towards the bathrooms. The long hallway was surprisingly empty and seemed to go on forever. You paused as you noticed a set of french doors at the end of the hall that were slightly opened, revealing a balcony of some kind. You walked right past the bathrooms as your inquisitiveness got the better of you.

“Where you think you’re goin’?”

Instantly freezing in place, a surprised gasp flew past your lips when a familiar deep gruff voice cut through the sound of your heels clacking along the empty tiled hallway.

You knew that voice.

Frank.

Quickly spinning around, your eyes widened considerably as you took in the sight in front of you; Frank Castle in a sleek all black suit.

He was the most cleaned up you had ever seen him. Frank had been growing his hair out lately, enough for you to notice it had a bit of a curly texture to it, but it looked like he had gotten it trimmed recently, and it was pushed back into a neat style. There weren’t any bruises or cuts littering his face, and it looked like he had just shaved since his usual five o’clock shadow was gone. The suit somehow made him look even bigger. His shoulders looked immensely broader in the jacket, and the dark material clung to his bulging arms and thick thighs as if it had been tailored to fit him perfectly.

The thought briefly crossed your mind that it probably had been if it had been provided by Billy for the event.

Thank you Billy Russo.

You were all of a sudden painfully aware that Frank had been staring at you silently, essentially watching you ogle at him as he waited for your answer. His features were set in an indifferent expression that had a hint of irritation lingering beneath, one you had gotten all too familiar with, and it caused a flush of scarlet to coat your cheeks as you parted your lips to speak and tried to remember how.

“I…just…was curious. About what’s out there. I saw the door was open…and…what-what are you doing here?”

“Russo’s fuckin’ job apparently.”

Blinking a few times, you were stunned silent by the anger that bit through Frank’s words, noticing the ember of vexation that burned in his deep espresso eyes. Your brain was still trying to process the sight of him in a suit, and you struggled to figure out what he seemed to be pissed off about until Billy’s name clicked it all into place.

“Don’t be mad at him. I told him I was just going to the bathroom and coming right back. That’s…my fault. I got sidetracked.”

“Didn’t realize you two were so close.”

A muscle feathered in Frank’s jaw as his coarse voice spit those words into your ear, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall and lightly shrugged your shoulders, averting your gaze to the fancy tiled floor.

“I wouldn’t say that. I think tonight is the most I’ve ever talked to him.”

“Seemed pretty close when you were holdin’ his hand.”

Flickering your eyes up to meet Frank’s, your lips parted in shock.

How long had he been here?

You furrowed your brows slightly as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. A look of realization spread over your face when it dawned on you that Billy had held your hand at the table earlier when you had opened up about the night at the bar with Frank and your current apprehensions about crowds.

Why did he sound so pissed off about that?

Shaking your head slowly, you tucked some of your hair behind your ear as you stared down at the floor once again, unable to meet his fiery disappointed gaze.

“That wasn’t…he was just being nice. I was giving him shit about spending more time flaunting himself than looking after me. It’s…been a long week and I wasn’t…I was feeling uneasy about being here tonight.”

In a flash Frank was in front of you, his large hand lightly gripping onto your chin to force you to look up at him as his eyes frantically searched over your form.

“Why? Somethin’ happen?”

The way Frank could switch from a broody, intimidating man that could snap someone in half with his bare hands to a gentler version of himself that spoke to you and touched you as if you were made of glass in less than a millisecond nearly gave you whiplash and always left you in a daze. You stared up into his concerned eyes almost in a trance, lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist as you let out a breath.

“No. Nothing happened, it's just…since the bar…I’ve just…been kinda freaked out. I’ve never really liked crowds, but now they make me even more nervous. It’s…it’s my fault. I did all this to myself.”

“Don’t say that. You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.”

“I put myself in danger. When I wrote those articles…when I said what I did to him…that night at the bar…I just…have a really awful habit of putting myself in bad situations, apparently.”

Frank’s lips parted slightly, as if he was going to say something, but you were caught on the way his features had softened substantially as he stared down at you. There was an emotion lingering in his eyes that looked like pity, or maybe remorse, but you couldn’t make it out. It was always so hard to read him.

“Oh, shit.”

Frank instantly turned his head in the direction of Billy’s voice, dropping his hand from your face and standing up a little straighter as his expression of annoyance from earlier returned full force.

“You wanna tell me why she’s alone?”

“She was just goin’ to the bathroom, Frankie. Relax. I got four guys watchin’ cameras, and twelve posted around the whole place.”

“I asked you for one thing, Bill. One goddamn thing.”

“Frank-”

“I asked you to watch her, personally. That means watch her. Not parade yourself around like fuckin’ royalty while she sits by herself at a fuckin’ table and wanders around the goddamn place alone.”

Billy instantly pressed his lips into a hard line, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at Frank’s irritable form. Frank looked absolutely pissed off as he glared back at Billy, and for whatever reason, you felt the need to come to Billy’s defense. Moving to position yourself between the two men, you placed your hand on Frank’s chest to get his attention.

“I asked him to do that, Frank. I didn’t feel like mingling with anyone. We thought it was a smart idea if Billy looked like a regular attendee instead of a bodyguard in case anyone tried anything, and I really didn’t want the extra attention. He made sure I was where he could see me at all times. Frank, he’s been coming by my office everyday to check on me while you were gone. Please don’t be upset, it was my idea. I just didn’t want the headache.”

Frank clenched his jaw as he stared down at you, his dark eyes occasionally flickering over your head to meet Billy’s. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, he nodded his head towards the other direction of the hallway.

“If you’re done fuckin’ around out here, get back inside.”

Frank’s voice was so rough as it came out, it felt as if he’d physically slapped you across the face. You did your best not to let your emotions get the best of you, quickly dropping your hand from Frank’s chest as if it had burned you. Giving a light submissive nod, you swiftly turned on your heel to walk back towards the party. Billy eyed you with pity as you walked past him, and you promptly dropped your gaze, not wanting him to see the hurt that threatened to slip past your waterline.

Bypassing the table that you had been sitting at, you made a beeline for the open bar, tucking yourself away at the furthest corner as you ordered your fourth glass of red wine of the night. The bitter taste on your tongue was nothing compared to the bitter resentment you felt towards Frank right now. He had been so hot and cold with you lately, it was driving you mad. You could never tell where you stood with him. You had never wanted so badly to look into another person’s mind to figure out what they were thinking or feeling. Frank was a brick wall when he wanted to be, and you weren’t sure if you had the patience or the strength to try to break through.

Ten minutes later, you felt Frank’s presence beside you before you saw him out of the corner of your eye. The scent of his cologne was more intoxicating than anything they were serving tonight, and you resisted every urge to move closer to the source.

“Might wanna consider slowin’ down. That’s your fourth one.”

So he had been here all night.

You weren’t in the mood to argue with him, so you simply slid the glass over on the bar towards him and turned around to walk back to the table. Frank caught your wrist to halt your movements, and you looked up at him with furrowed brows. His lips were downturned into a frown that tugged at your heartstrings, and the lighting above the bar cast a spotlight on the guilt pooling in his eyes.

“I didn’t say stop, just…be careful. You have a hard time findin’ your limit.”

“I know where it is, Frank. I just ignore it.”

Frank’s face twisted up with an emotion you couldn’t decipher, and as you went to tug your wrist free from his grasp, his fingers tightened to hold you firmly in place.

“Hey…look, I’m uh…I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Bein’ a dick, back there. I didn’t mean to. I…just…I asked Bill for a favor-”

“Because I’m a handful.”

Frank’s dark brows knit together in the center of his forehead as he stared down at you, features drawn in confusion.

“What? No. Cause I trust him. I know what he’s capable of, and I know he’s the only other person that could protect you as good as me.”

A fresh spell of heat pooled in your lower belly at Frank’s words, and a rosy tint rose to the surface of your cheeks.

Frank hadn’t warned Billy about you. Frank only trusted Billy with you.

“Oh…I thought…maybe you…had told him I was trouble.”

Frank cocked his head to the side while he looked at you, and suddenly a faint smirk curled at the edge of his mouth as he chuckled lowly.

“Well, that you are, sweetheart. But it wasn’t that. Matter of fact, I’m kinda disappointed you didn’t give Russo a run for his money. You only like fuckin’ with me?”

Sweetheart. There it was again.

You immediately blushed realizing Frank had been onto you, trying your best to hide your grin as you feigned an expression of mock offense.

“Frank Castle, when have I ever fucked with you?”

Frank narrowed his eyes slightly in a playful glare, arching one of his dark brows in challenge as his lips spread into a devilish grin.

“You want a list?”

Granting him a roll of your eyes, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you giggled, lifting your hands up in surrender as you shrugged your shoulders.

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do. Will not confirm or deny. But, I can tell you that Billy isn’t nearly as fun to be around, and I was worried that he would have an aneurysm if I derailed even a second of his perfect life.”

“Probably, but woulda been damn funny to watch.”

These were the moments it was the hardest to be around Frank. When he did let the broody facade drop. When he smiled at you, joked with you, and acted like he genuinely cared about you and that you weren’t just some assignment. Because it made it all that much harder when he inevitably switched back into your ruminative bodyguard.

“You look really good in a suit.”

As soon as the words flew past your lips, your heart started to beat faster. Those four glasses of wine were finally catching up to you and slowly dismantling the filter between your mouth and your brain. Frank’s grin faltered, and he looked completely taken aback by your comment. He quickly cleared his throat, lightly tugging at the tie around his neck as he timidly met your eyes.

“Uh, thanks. Gotta be honest, it’s real fuckin’ uncomfortable. Don’t know how the hell Bill wears these things all the goddamn time.”

“He can’t pull off jeans and a regular shirt like you can.”

Jesus Christ please shut the fuck up.

As the heat of embarrassment flamed in your cheeks, you swiftly turned your head to look anywhere but at Frank, trying your hardest to find a new subject of conversation.

“So-”

“You wanna dance?”

Frank looked just as surprised by his own question as you did, lifting his hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck before gesturing around to the party.

“Since we’re s’posed to be blendin’ in and all that. You don’t gotta, just thought-”

“I do.”

A timid smile spread over your lips as you looked up at Frank, swallowing thickly as you held out your hand for him to take. Glancing between your eyes and your hand, Frank gave a slight nod and grunted quietly in response before taking your hand to lead you to the dance floor. Your hand trembled when you raised it to place on Frank’s shoulder, a quiet gasp leaving your parted lips as his large hand settled on your waist. He clasped your small hand in his large one, his deep brown eyes glancing around at everyone over your head.

“Um…can you dance?”

Frank looked almost offended by your question as he looked down at you, cocking his head to the side.

“You didn’t think to ask me that before followin’ me over here?”

“Just curious.”

“What? Don’t I look like I can dance?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I mean you’re so…graceful.”

“Smartass.”

A fit of giggles slipped past your lips as you momentarily leaned your forehead against Frank’s chest, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling back to peer up at him with a grin.

“Just don’t step on my toes, please. I really like these shoes. And I’m pretty sure you would break them considering you’re twice my size.”

“Just for that I’m gonna do it on purpose. See how much trouble you can cause with two broken feet.”

Your mouth immediately fell open as you stared up at Frank with wide eyes.

“Frank!”

His eyes crinkled at the sides as he bellowed with laughter, shaking his head slowly as he lightly squeezed your waist.

“Aw c’mon, you know I’m kiddin’.”

“Actually, I don’t. I think you would. And just for that, I’m requesting a new bodyguard.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I said so.”

You glared up at Frank with a smug grin spreading across your lips, jutting your chin out defiantly as you shrugged.

“Not your call.”

“Actually it is. See, the guys report to me, and Bill ain’t gonna challenge me. So, as I said before, no.”

Frank tilted his head to the side as he stared down at you with the ghost of a smirk covering his lips. The look in his eyes caused a fire to erupt in your lower belly, and you rolled your eyes so that you could look away. Frank was surprisingly a great dancer, making it feel as if the two of you were floating around the dance floor together effortlessly.

“You uh…you look nice.”

Whipping your head up in Frank’s direction, you stared blankly up at him as his words translated in your ears.

“What?”

“Your dress and all. Meant to tell you earlier. You uh, look…beautiful.”

The sincerity in Frank’s voice and his gaze made your heart swell, feeling as if it had completely swollen inside your ribcage. Taking in a sharp breath, you lightly squeezed onto his shoulder to steady yourself as your voice came out quiet.

“Thank you.”

Frank grunted quietly in response with a nod of his head, averting his gaze to survey the room like it was second nature. You couldn’t stop staring at him as his words swirled around inside your head.

“You’re really good at this, you know.”

A timid smile appeared on Frank’s lips as he chuckled lowly, glancing briefly down at you.

“Was worried I’d be rusty. I ain’t danced like this in quite awhile.”

“When was the last time?”

The smile on Frank’s face was instantly torn away like a vengeful tide erasing a sandcastle. You stilled as you watched his dark eyes immediately harden, the outline of his strong jawline becoming sharper as it set roughly. The shift in the mood felt as if someone had tossed a bucket of ice cold water over you, and you fumbled to backtrack.

“Sorry, I didn’t-”

“My wedding.”

Frank didn’t meet your eyes as he spoke. The playful tone of his voice from earlier was long gone, leaving nothing but the rough gravel behind.

“I…I’m sorry. I…it must be difficult for you. I’ve never been divorced-”

“Didn’t get divorced. She died.”

Frank’s confession knocked all the wind right out of your lungs. He said it so…casually, but with so much pain and anger layered beneath the syllables. The only reason his eyes met yours again was because he noticed you had stopped dancing. Frank’s eyes had become wild, completely blown open like a wound with shades of rage and grief. It caused a shiver to caress your spine.

“Frank-”

“Don’t.”

There was a hard edge to his voice, a warning mixed with a plea as he stared down at you. Giving a slight nod of your head, you snapped your mouth shut, unable to tear your gaze away from him. Frank stared you down silently for a moment before relinquishing his grip on your waist and dropping his hand from yours to take a step backwards.

“Bill will take you home.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Got somethin’ to finish up.”

“Right now?”

Frank’s impenetrable glare stunned you once again into submission, and you found yourself nodding again since you didn’t trust your voice. Giving you one last final look over, Frank forced his way through the crowd towards the exit, leaving you completely stunned and all alone in the middle of the dance floor.

tags: @jwjeepers @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @neverlandcity @charmedkim @stilldreaming666 @dark-academia-slut

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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rubywonu · 7 months

Text

𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲

“in your heart, i will light a flame.”

summary: in which you fell in love with the most infuriatingly handsome person you knew, joshua hong.

pairing: joshua hong x fem!reader

genre: he falls first and harder, royal!au, childhood enemies to lovers.

warnings: mentions of big crowds, alcohol, kinda rushed at the ending.

w/c: 1.7k

nia’s notes: this is for the caratsland event on seventeen songs, im so excited to be apart of this. (@fairyhaos this one is for you)

the esmerald gala. the biggest ball in history. it was held by the royal family of esmerald, which you happened to be a part of. you were the heir to the throne and this year's gala was a set up for you to find your husband.

every man above the age of 23 and below the age of 40 was a candidate for you, apart from one man. joshua hong, the prince of catheral, your parent's best friend's son.

you glanced around from the top of the staircase making sure that no one could see you. the ballroom was filled with important people and their partners.

you were startled a bit when your bodyguard crept up behind you. "it is time, your highness."

you stepped back and went to your position, trying to calm your nerves. taking deep breaths was all you did until you heard the guard announcing your entrance. "princess yn esmerald, heir to the throne."

a magnificent orchestra played in the background as you gracefully walked down the stairs. your eyes darted around the room, trying to find a familiar face to talk to and then you caught the eye of the person you were planning to avoid the whole day.

the whiskey-coloured eyes that displayed authority devoured you. a small smirk made it on his face and he raised his champagne glass, the annoyingly hot smile still plastered to his face.

you broke off the eye contact and tried to refrain the act of rolling your eyes as you reached the base of the stairs. people already rushed up to talk to you or to sneak a glimpse of the heir to the throne.

almost immediately you were thrown into conversations with political authorities or kings and queens of other kingdoms. it would be like this until your parents' entrance would be announced, which you assumed would be quite a while.

you shook hands and people brought you hugs. just as you were about to start another conversation with a very boring minister, the familiar orchestra played after the guard announced your parents' arrival.

the duo walked down the stairs, waving their hands and smiling at everyone. no wonder your parents were the most loved rulers of the country. hand in hand, your parents were thrown into more conversations and hugs than you were brought into.

and you were finally left alone. quickly you gathered your ball gown and you made it outside to your favourite place in the whole palace. your balcony. it offered a scenic view of the capital city of your country and you often found comfort in it.

"yn esmerald. fancy seeing you here." the agitating voice cursed your silence and you closed your eyes in irritation. you turned around, not even bothered to smile.

"joshua hong. pleasure is all yours." joshua dipped his head down to try to hide his growing smile.

joshua wore a perfectly fitting white silk shirt and a black fur coat. his hair slicked back and a few strands falling out. if he wasn't as frustrating to be with, you were sure you would have asked him out.

once again, the two of you held eye contact. and it felt like it was only the two of you in the whole world. the sound drained out and the surroundings faded away. the mischievous glint in joshua's eyes trapped you and you found yourself wanting to explore it. something you should not feel started to flow throughout your body. intrigue.

you snapped out of the inviting gaze when a waiter offered the both of you another glass of champagne, which you took with no hesitation. you realized you would need some alcohol in your body if you were dealing with joshua.

"so, what are you doing here?" you raised an eyebrow at his question. "i mean, what are doing out here instead of your party?"

you scoffed. "it's hardly a party." you looked back at the view. "needed some air, and this seemed like the best place to do that. i can sense you came out here to do the same."

instead of answering, joshua nodded while mimicking your position near the railing of the balcony. the silence once again enveloped the atmosphere and for a second you found yourself wanting to break it.

joshua was entranced by your behavior. ever since the first ball he had attended, you were the diamond in his eyes. the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled or your heavy esmerald accent left joshua wanting to experience them first hand. he wanted to be the reason you smile and the reason you speak with a unique tone.

your banter started with a small competitive behavior initiated by you. and joshua being the lovesick puppy he is, continued the banter to make you satisfied.

he would love to see the deep red flush that would spread across your neck and face when he would subtly flirt with you. he'd love to make a reaction come out of you. especially when he would ask you for your hand in marriage. ever since he was 10, joshua asked you out every ball and you declined each year. but this was the year you would shock him.

the both of you were disturbed by the loud sound of the bell back in the hall.

"the dance is about to start, let's go." by the time joshua registered what you said, you were already way ahead of him and he rushed to your side, the familiar scent of honey and vanilla inviting him.

the both of you made it into the hall at the correct time and the kind and queen of esmerald were dancing to kick off the event. soon later the monarchs of all the kingdoms present there were at the centre. and then it was time for the others to dance.

you and joshua walked on the opposite side of the hall, meeting worthy candidates for the first dance. the first dance was very important to the ceremony, especially since now you were supposed to find a man to marry. the tradition was the person who you danced with first was the person you chose to marry. you had to accept the dance proposal first and that didn’t prove to be an easy task.

throughout the search, you and joshua sneaked glances at each other. it felt like you were little children sneaking glances at their crushes. you liked joshua and joshua liked you. the whole world knew that only the both of you didn't realize it.

once again, you looked up to sneak a look at joshua only to find him out of your sight. you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked around the area to search for him. completely disregarding the balding man in front of you who had tried to ask you to dance.

just as you were about to walk away, you felt a hand come in contact with your wrist. you were spun around, your ball gown fluffing around you. your other hand was placed on the person's chest as support.

you looked up and the blush took over your face. seeing that joshua smirked, internally partying because he made that reaction. your eyes were wide with shock and your heartbeat was so fast that you were sure everyone at the whole ball could hear it. "what do you think you're doing?"

"taking you to go dance." joshua's response was simple. his deep voice sent shivers down your back and he leaned forward to your ear. "do you have any objections?"

you were rendered speechless. your mouth went dry and anything you wanted to say left your mouth. "shouldn't you ask me first?" you were finally able to get something out of your mouth but it was still weak and quiet.

"well, then." joshua pulled away from your body and you immediately missed the warmth. joshua grabbed your hand and bent down a little. "princess yn, will you take the honors and dance with me."

you tried to hide your smile on your face but failed miserably. "if this your idea of a marriage proposal, hong, i will leave you.” you were going to marry joshua hong. the both of you knew that.

you and joshua walked towards the center of the ballroom and your partnership invited whispers and gasps from the crowd. from the corner of your eyes, you saw your parents and they nodded with small smiles on their faces, clearly happy with your choice.

the sensual trumpet in the background was the only sound that you heard, neither of you heard the hushed whispers between the guests and you didn't see the envious glances that were shared and they didn't matter.

all the uncertain feelings were understandable now. you didn't like him, oh no, you loved joshua hong.

joshua's heart fluttered when your cold eyes melted to a gaze filled what adoration and curiosity. he waited for this moment for a long long time and it felt more perfect than he ever dreamed of.

his heart was burning with the passionate flame that was you. joshua looked at you like you were the person who had created the universe.

once again, joshua moved closer to your ear. "in your heart, i'll light a flame." he made eye contact. "just like you did in mine."

"there's no need." you grabbed the nape of his neck gently. "you've already blazed upon my heart." you smiled at joshua who was speechless.

"i thought you hated me," joshua asked you. he knew the answer but he loved to tease you.

"hate is such a strong word. isn't it?" your response was expected by joshua, the bright red colouring and the shivering.

neither of you realized how passionate your love would be. and all it took was to light a flame.

tagging: @kflixnet . @caratsland . @pixieskie . @xomingyu . @bangchansbae .

#nia's writing!#caratsland #kflixnet #joshua smut #seventeen smut #joshua fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #joshua hong

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 1 year

Text

As Long As You’re Mine - Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: Inspired by As Long As You’re Mine from Wicked

Summary: Mob life can be full of outdated traditions so you try to cling on your freedoms for as long as possible

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Mob Elements! Forced Arranged Marriage! Language! Mention of guns! Mention of Drugs! Language! Brief SMUT 18+ ONLY! Minors DNI!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Sitting in the large sunroom you let out a long sigh staring out at the large garden sprawling out in front of you. This was the first time you felt peace in weeks. Ever since the sudden passing of your father, life had been turned upside down, your brother stepping into a role he’d not been expecting to take for decades.

“Your brother wants to talk to you” Romero stated behind you.

“Where?” You ask not looking away from the fountain outside.

“His office” Romero answers.

“You mean my father’s office” you mutter barely glancing over your shoulder.

“Yes miss,” Romero says.

“Fine” you sigh pushing yourself up from your chair.

Walking out of the sunroom you held your head up as you passed the various guards that now stood around the house. With your family and its business in a weakened state following the death of your father, the extra guards were needed, not only for protection but as a demonstration of strength.

“You requested my presence?” You state walking into the office not even bothering to knock.

Your brother looks up with an irritated look on his face. A man you didn’t recognise stood to the side, his brow arched as he studied you. Normally you completely ignored strangers, especially ones clearly involved in the family business. But this man had a gravitational pull that had you glancing over at him.

The first thing you noticed was his piercing blue eyes that despite the cool colour, hid some warmth. He had long rugged blonde hair and a beard to match, which did nothing to hide his pink plump lips.

“Sit down” your brother directed, pulling your attention away from the stranger, gesturing to the chair opposite the desk.

“What do you want Bryce, you know I don’t enjoy being in here” you state as you sit down, leaning back in your chair, one leg crossed over the other.

“This is Steve,” Bryce says waving over to the stranger “he’s your personal bodyguard, you’re not to leave his sight”

“What?” You snap sitting up “you can’t be serious I don’t need a babysitter”

“Are the guards outside not a reminder of our precarious situation right now?” Bryce bites back “since I have no wife, and no desire for one either, you are who all our enemies are going to go after”

You scoff shaking your head “oh this is ridiculous!”

“It’s only temporary, I’m sure you’re new husband will have his own bodyguards to look after you” Bryce sighs waving his hand as he leaned back in his chair.

“What?” You choked out, you had no new husband, you had no one.

“It was father’s dying wish to have you married off well, merge our family with another strengthening us” Bryce explains.

“So I get no say in the matter?” You state in disbelief.

“Don’t worry I’ll pick someone mutually beneficial” Bryce mutter noncommittally.

You scoff “this is bullshit! I thought you’d be different to father” you spit at your brother.

As you stormed out of the office you heard heavy footsteps following after you. Whipping around you come face to face with Steve.

“Fuck off” you growl pointing up at him in warning.

A warning that fell on deaf ears as you heard Steve following behind you the entire way to your bedroom. As you stormed inside you went to slam the door in his face but he easily caught it with his large hand.

“Do I not get the privacy of my own room” you question your voice sharp.

“Yes, but I need to conduct a sweep, see what I’m working with entrance and exit wise” Steve reasons, his voice level, face expressionless “You’re most likely to be killed or taken in the safety of your room, that chance will be lowered if I know what I’m dealing with, I’ll be quick” he adds when you don’t budge.

You let out an annoyed huff but step aside letting him into your room. You stood to the side, arms crossed as you watched him walk around your bedroom. He poked his head into your closet and bathroom, looked behind your curtains and tapped against your windows.

“They’re bulletproof” you state “are you done now? I want to relax”

“Yes, but we should limit the amount of time you’re alone to the night” Steve states still looking around your room.

“Well I want a shower and I doubt my brother will take you loitering around very well” you warn, narrowing your eyes at him condescendingly.

“Fine but as soon as you’re decent we should go back downstairs” Steve states looking back over at you.

“Whatever just fuck off already” you scoff waving him off as your turned and walked into your bathroom.

You waited until you heard your bedroom door close before reaching in and turning on your shower. But you didn’t get in, instead, you left it running as you slipped back into your bedroom. You grabbed a book from your bookcase and settled down on your bed to relax for the next few hours until you wanted to leave.

“I want to go outside” you huff in frustration glaring up at Steve.

“And I told you there was a perimeter breach last night, you’re to stay inside until everything is secure” Steve states his distractingly large arms crossed over his chest.

“This is ridiculous! I can’t see my friends! I can’t have a minute of peace! I can’t even go into my own goddamn garden to enjoy the nice weather!” You exclaim gesturing wildly.

Steve lets out a long sigh “how about a compromise”

That caught your attention, your brow arching questionably “what kind of compromise”

“Give me half an hour to ensure the surrounding area is secure and you can relax in the sunroom, enjoy the sunshine in there” Steve offers, his tone much more gentle than before.

You mimic his stance, studying him for a moment “fine” you agree.

“Okay, wait here with Romero I’ll get you once it’s secured,” Steve says nodding over to Romero before turning and walking away.

You let out a long sigh as you sat down, setting the satchel you were carrying down. You rested your chin in your palm as you waited for Steve to return, staring up at the large portrait of your father above the mantlepiece.

“Prick” you muttered under your breath, glaring up at his portrait.

It was his wish that landed you in this situation. Growing up Bryce had been different, when your father died you hoped that you’d be free from an arranged marriage. Yet even in death, his stupid ideals were haunting you.

You hadn’t realised how long you’d be stewing until Steve walked back in “the sunroom is secure” he states gesturing towards the door.

You nodded in acknowledgement, grabbing your satchel and walking out towards the sunroom without a word. You settled down in the large wicker chair in the corner, leaning back and basking in the sunlight, your eyes closing.

The sound of shuffling behind you had you peeking your eye open, glancing over your shoulder to see Steve standing in the far corner. He was always standing, you weren’t sure if he’d ever sat down in your presence. He didn’t seem bothered by it but his feet must be sore.

“You can sit down you know?” You tell him closing your eyes again.

“I’m fine,” Steve says but you heard him shuffling again.

“I can hear you shifting your weight, I’m your boss and I'm telling you to sit down” you state shifting so you were more comfortable.

You heard a tiny huff of a laugh “your brother is my boss” he points out.

“Exactly you’re employed by my family and I’m telling you to sit,” you tell him.

For a minute you didn’t hear anything, but then you heard footsteps, the sound of a chair moving and a quiet sigh as Steve sat down.

You peeked open an eye, smirking to yourself when you saw his unguarded relaxed face “better?” You ask.

Steve just lets out a noncommittal him.

“So where are you from Steve?” You ask opening your eyes as you look over at him.

Steve arches a brow, a surprised look on his face “you’ve changed your tune”

You just shrug your shoulders “I can’t seem to get rid of you so may as well get to know you”

The corner of Steve’s mouth twitches upwards “Brooklyn” he says answering your previous question.

“Oh,” you hum in surprise “What’s the mob scene like there? Just as backwards and twisted as the Boston scene?”

Steve sighs leaning back in his seat “it’s different, the NYPD cracked down on mobs pretty hard so they have evolved” he says.

You tilt your head in confusion “evolved?” You question.

“They’re not families anymore, it's one big syndicate, all run by one guy but nobody knows who they are” Steve explains.

“So you never worked for him? Met him?” You ask, Steve just shook his head in answer.

“I’d love to live in New York” you sigh looking out of the window.

“Really?” Steve asked surprised “you don’t get views like this in New York,” he says nodding to the garden.

“No” you admit “but it's full of life, and bright colours, I visited a few years ago and I felt at home”

“It is a pretty amazing place” Steve hums.

“Do you miss it?” You ask looking over at him.

“Yeah” he nods with a small smile.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to leave the door’s over there,” you say pointing to the door behind you.

Steve lets out a warm laugh, one that made your heart skip a beat “you can’t get rid of me that easily” he smirks.

You let out a long and loud disappointed sigh that makes Steve chuckle gently. As silence falls in the room once more you sit forward, opening up your satchel to grab your sketch pad and pencil.

“You draw?” You heard Steve ask.

You hum nodding your head “it's one of the few skills my father made me learn that I actually enjoy” you explain as you sharpen your pencil.

“You don’t speak highly of him” Steve points out.

You let out a snort of laughter, as you begin to sketch “there isn’t much to speak of, at least not positive”

“What do you mean?” Steve asks.

You let out a long sigh “he was traditional in every sense of the word, but not in a good way” you explain keeping your eyes on the sketch of a flower you were drawing “my and my brother were to be seen and not heard, he paid us no attention at least not until Bryce was old enough to be groomed as a mob leader”

“What about your mother?” Steve asks brows furrowed slightly.

“He didn’t love her, it was an arranged married so he just saw her as someone to give him an heir” you sigh before shrugging your shoulders “she died when I was 12, she’d always try to give me the life she never got, give me some freedom but it was impossible, I knew I’d end up exactly like her, nothing more than a prized piece of meat for breeding,” you say spitting out the last part in disgust.

Steve remains silent to the point that you glance over at him, seeing a hint of concern and sympathy in his eyes.

“When my father died I thought I was free, Bryce always tried to fight for me growing up so I thought I’d be able to go live my life, find and choose who I wanted to spend my life with myself, but I guess I didn’t realise how much my father had poisoned Bryce” you continue shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said quietly.

You let out a small huff “it’s alright, not like you can do anything about it”

Steve hums, neither of you saying anything for a moment “who’s your favourite artist?” Steve asks nodding to your sketch.

A smile tugs at your lips at the change of topic “I don’t know, Van Gogh maybe or Frida Kahlo?” You say shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ve always found Picasso interesting, even though his style is very different to mine” Steve admits.

“You paint?” You ask surprised.

Steve smiles gently nodding his head “I prefer sketching but yes”

Without a second thought you reach into your satchel and pull out another sketch pad and pencil “Sketch with me” you say holding out the supplies.

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise for a second before a smile tugs at his lips, reaching out to take the sketchbook from you. You smile back at him, pretending to return your attention back to your own sketch but you instead were watching how Steve reclined back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other to rest his sketchbook against his knee. The look of relaxed concentration on his face as he put the first couple of strokes against the paper.

For hours you and Steve sat in silence sketching, the only noise being the sound being pencils against the paper. You didn’t even stop for food, instead having dinner brought to you in the sunroom.

“What would you do? If you could do what you want? Would you leave mob life” Steve asks after hours of silence.

“No, I’d be wrong to say it doesn’t have its perks, and only people in this life would understand, I just would want more choice and freedom, find someone where I’m an equal not just a bride” you explain with a gentle smile.

There was a beat of silence before Steve closed his sketchbook, standing up from his chair “it's getting late, you should get some sleep” he says holding out the sketchbook for you to take back.

“Keep it,” you say standing up, and packing away your own sketchbook and pencils.

“I’ll bring my own next time,” Steve says reaching out to slide the sketchbook into your bag.

You bit back a smile as you nodded, turning to walk out towards your room. Steve followed a couple of paces behind as always.

“Goodnight Steve” you smile turning back to face him once you reached your room.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he says warmly, his head dipping slightly.

You give him one last smile before slipping inside your room. Walking over to your bed you put down your satchel and began to unpack it, putting your supplies away. When you pulled out the sketchbook you have given Steve, curiosity won out as you opened it up to see what he’d drawn. Your breath caught when you saw it was a portrait of you.

A couple of weeks later you were woken in the middle of the night by shouting and loud cracking noises. Sitting up you realised the sound was coming from outside. You had only just reached the window, poking your head through the curtains when your door swung open.

“Get away from the window!” Steve shouted, his chest heaving.

Your head snapped in his direction “what?” You ask in confusion.

Steve didn’t say anything he just ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you, one large hand placed securely on the back of your head. He then twists into a crouch, covering you with his body as you hard a loud crack against your window. You let out a screech at the sound, finally realising the cracking noises outside were gunfire.

“You okay?” Steve asks pulling back enough for his eyes to scan over your body.

You quickly nod, your eyes wide as you stared up at him in shock “wha-what’s happening?”

“The house is under attack, looks like Hansen, we need to get you out of here,” Steve says repositioning you so you were still covered but on your feet.

You just nod allowing him to guide you out of the room. He kept you both in a crouched position, his arm around you, hand on the back of your head. He leads you out of your room, down the corridor and into a safe room.

To anyone else, it just looked like a closet, but you knew of the reinforced locks. Bulletproof walls and door.

Steve led you over to a plush chair in the corner, carefully setting you down before returning his attention back to the locked door. His hand on his gun ready to fire at a moment's notice.

You curled up in the chair, your knees brought up to your chest. You were shivering, not only from the cold since you only wore silk shorts and a vest, but also as the adrenaline left your body.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at you when he heard you move, his brows furrowing for a second before he shrugged off his jacket.

“Here,” he says offering you his jacket.

When you don’t move he steps closer, carefully wrapping it around your shoulders. He then crouched down in front of you, gently tugging the jacket around you.

“You’re safe, it’s gonna be okay” he reassured you gently, his large hand brushing over your head soothingly.

“Thank you” you whispered.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, it’s okay,” Steve says softly, his hand slipping into yours, the reassuring squeeze he gave providing more warmth than his jacket.

You could only manage a small nod of your head, Steve gave you another smile as he stands back up. Putting himself back on guard duty.

What felt like hours passed until you heard a knocking on the door. Both you and Steve went on guard, Steve pulling out his gun as he stood with his back to the wall. He gestures for you to hide behind your chair with his free g huff hand, waiting until you were crouched behind your chair before unlocking the door. He opens it a crack, only enough to see out.

“Clear?” He asks.

“Clear” you hear Bryce confirm “is she safe?”

Steve puts his gun away as he opens the door enough for Bryce to step in “shaken but fine”

You stand up from your hiding space, your breath catching when you saw Bryce’s busted lip and black eye “Bryce” you gasped.

“It’s nothing you should see the other guy” Bryce waves off with a small smirk, crossing the room and sitting down with a heavy sigh.

“Did Hansen show?” Steve asks hands on his hips.

“No, just his goons but we’ve taken one for interrogation, find out exactly what his motives were” Bryce sighs cracking his knuckles.

“It was probably a test run to see how weak you are, so when they hit again they know where to strike” Steve answers

“Shit” Bryce mutters “I need to secure a deal soon,” he says glancing over at you.

“What if that’s what this is all about?” You argue, Steve glancing over at you with a brow arched “Hansen’s a hitman by trade, what if he’s been hired to spook you into closing a deal sooner, one that doesn’t actually benefit you”

Bryce scoffs and shakes his head at the idea but Steve speaks up “it's a possibility, one I wouldn’t rule out even if it is a slim chance”

“Whatever” Bryce mutters pushing himself up from his chair “Your room is compromised so until it's secure again you’ll be sleeping in mother’s old room”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You hadn’t stepped foot in your mother’s room since the week of her death. The last time you’d completely broken down.

“Bryce no…” you start, your voice wobbling but he was already out the door.

You look over at Steve to see him already looking back at you with a concerned look in his eyes “I’ll make sure you’re room is secure as soon as possible”

You swallow the lump of emotion, wrapping your arms around yourself. You gave him a quick nod before quietly walking out the door towards your mother’s room.

Steve walked a few paces behind you as always but when you froze in front of the door, he stopped much closer than he’s ever done before.

“I’ll need to conduct a sweep,” Steve says quietly.

You nod but don’t move. Steve instead placed a hand on the small of your back, reaching around you to open the door. A blast of cold air hit you, but you weren’t sure if you just imagined it. Steve gently guided you inside, closing the door behind you.

As he stepped away to start his sweep a chill entered your body. You hugged yourself tighter as you began to shiver, stepping back until your back hit the wall behind you.

“All clear, get some rest it's been a long night,” Steve says turning back to you.

As he began walking towards the door it felt like you couldn’t breathe “wait” you managed to gasp.

Steve haltered looking over at you in concern “what’s wrong? He asks taking a step towards you.

“I-I can’t stay here I just can’t” you whisper tears spilling from your eyes.

Steve’s face falls as he walks over to you, putting his hands on your shoulders “I understand but it’s not safe anywhere else” he says gently.

“Please” you beg.

You see the conflicted look on his face “sweetheart” he whispered “it’s not safe, I have to keep you safe”

“I can’t Steve” you cry shaking your head “I can’t sleep in the same bed she died in”

Steve lets out a long sigh “okay how about a compromise?” He offers “stay here, but we’ll sleep on the floor”

“We?” You mutter in confusion.

“I can’t leave you like this,” Steve said gently, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears “unless you want to be alone?”

“No, no,” you say quickly “Please don’t leave me”

“I won’t, now why don’t you go freshen up while I get everything sorted” Steve promised.

You nod sniffing back your tears, shooting Steve a grateful look as you step away towards the bathroom.

By the time you re-emerged, Steve had created a bed for you on the floor. Made up of pillows blankets and your duvet from your room.

“I sent Romero to get them, thought it would make you more comfortable,” Steve says answering your silent question.

“Thank you Steve, it means a lot” you smile gracefully.

You walk over and settle down in your makeshift bed. Of course, it wasn’t as comfortable as your actual bed, but it was familiar and if you closed your eyes you could pretend you were back in your room. As you lay down Steve walked away to go sit in a nearby chair.

“Aren’t you sleeping?” You ask him.

“No, just in case Hansen decides to strike twice in one night,” Steve says turning around to face you.

“Can you sit with me?” You ask looking up at him hopefully.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he walks back towards you. He sits down in beside you, back leaning against the wall.

“Get some rest” Steve orders gently.

You smile up at him, reaching out to take his hand “thank you Steve, for everything” you whisper before letting yourself fall asleep, still holding onto his hand.

When you woke the following morning you were somewhat surprised to find you’d moved in your sleep. You’d dropped Steve’s hand, but instead you now had your head in his lap. His hand was now also resting on your waist, thumb absentmindedly moving back and forth.

“Mornin’” Steve murmured, “sleep well?”

You shift so you could look up at him. As you did so you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw him giving you a warm and lazy smile. The memories of last night flashed through your mind, not of the sound of bullets and your brother’s beaten face, but of how Steve looked after you, called you sweetheart. In that moment you couldn’t deny the blossoming feelings you’d been denying the past couple of months.

You sit up, turning to face him. Your eyes roam his face for a moment, while his remains on yours. Your steady hand reached up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over his thick beard. Before you could convince yourself this was a bad idea, you leant in, your lips brushing against his.

“Sweetheart” Steve whispered his voice pained “last night was a lot, you can’t be thinking straight”

“I am, I promise” you mutter, forehead pressed against his “I’ve thought this since I met you” you admit.

Steve doesn’t say or do anything for a moment, long enough that you started to pull back. But then he gripped your lips pulling you to straddle his lap, his lips crashing against yours. You hum appreciatively against his lips, completely melting into his embrace.

“Bryce can’t know” you warn “it doesn’t matter you’re twice his size, he’ll kill you if he finds out”

“I can handle myself sweetheart” Steve promises, his fingers gently brushing some hair behind your ear.

“Steve,” you say pleadingly “I can talk him out of this marriage crap, find other ways to build alliances and then we can be free”

Steve nods cupping your cheek and bringing your lips back to his “I trust you doll” he murmured against your lips.

From that day onwards you and Steve were more inseparable than you were before. Every day he kept you company and kept you safe. Every night he loved you, held you close and made you feel safe in a completely different way.

Every day you also made time to talk to Bryce, trying to convince him that marriage was not the only way to build alliances. You suggested multiple different ways and it looked like he was beginning to cave and consider it.

That was until he called you into his office.

“I thought you’d want to hear this news alone,” Bryce said as you sat down putting you on guard immediately.

“What news?” You question.

“I’ve finally managed to secure you a match, you’ll be marrying Ransom Drysdale” Bryce states.

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaim.

“I’m perfectly serious, he’s the heir of the longest-standing mob families in Boston, you couldn’t find a better match,” Bryce says remaining completely calm.

“He’s an idiot! We could get a much better deal with Levinson or Barber without having to subject me to marriage!” You argue standing up from your chair.

“It was father’s wish” Bryce reminds you.

“To hell with him! He was a piece of shit and you know it” you shout pointing down at him.

“He gave us all of this!” Bryce finally snaps standing up and gesturing around.

“At what cost!” You screech in anger.

“This marriage is happening and you can’t change it! Backing out would only give Drysdale the ammunition to wipe us out! Do you want that? All of us dead because of your selfish actions” Bryce roared.

You flinched back, the memory of whenever your father yelled at you flashing in front of your eyes. You blink a couple of times as his words sink in. You had no choice, you had to go through with it. To protect everyone in this family, those who worked for you, for Steve.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Bryce breaths out a sigh of relief “good, I’m glad you’ve seen sense”

You just swallowed the lump in your throat nodding your head “I’m going to get an early night” you manage to croak out.

“Fine, I’ll see you later, I’m going out for the night,” Bryce says slipping on his jacket, opening one of the desk drawers and pulling out a small bag of white powder and slipping it into his pocket.

“Have a nice night, don’t do anything stupid” you tell him quietly.

“Now where’s the fun in that” Bryce smirks walking over to you “see you tomorrow” he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head before walking out of the office.

You breathe out a shaky breath, quickly wiping away a stray tear before walking out of the office. You head straight to your bedroom, walking as quickly as you could, feeling the wave of emotion threatening to crash down over you.

When you spot Steve standing outside your bedroom you broke down. A sob escaped your lips as your hand covered your mouth. Steve’s face fell as he rushed over, arm wrapped around your shoulders quickly guiding you into your room.

He gets you to sit on your bed, cupping your cheeks as he crouched down in front of you “sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“I tried, I really tried but you couldn’t stop it but I can’t” you sobbed shaking your head.

Steve sighed knowingly exactly what you meant “we can work something out sweetheart” Steve reassures you.

“No-no we can’t, because he chose Drysdale and nothing can stop him when he sets his mind to something, and if I run or back out he’ll kill everyone here, he’ll kill you” you explain shaking your head, Steve opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt “and don’t say you can handle yourself because you can’t not against him” you sigh.

Steve just sighed leaning forward to press his forehead against yours “I’m sorry” he whispered.

“I’m just so pissed, I thought I’d gotten Bryce to change his mind, but he still went ahead and picked Drysdale, the worst option possible” you state shaking your head “I don’t care if he’s the heir of the longest standing mob family in Boston, he’s reckless one step away from getting caught by the FBI, or he’ll blow every dollar they’ve earnt! Barber or Levinson would have been better options! And I wouldn’t have had to marry either of them” you say breaking down again.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry” Steve sighed cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead.

“I don’t want to lose you” you whimper shaking your head.

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either” Steve whispers pressing kisses to your forehead.

“I just don’t know what to do” you mutter your eyes meeting his.

“What can I do?” Steve asks quietly.

“Just hold me, kiss me, just make this moment where you’re mine last forever” you plead.

Steve looked at you sadly but nodded. He kissed away your tears, before kissing you deeply. His hand rested on your hip guiding you back onto the bed and laying you down gently.

Your back arched when his lips travelled across your jawline and down your neck. His hand gripped your hip tightly, normally he was always so gentle but tonight you welcomed his rougher side. Because it reminded you that he was actually here, it gave you something to hold onto.

You held onto him tightly with every thrust home he made. You clung to every bruising kiss he gave you. You wished that every mark he made lasted a lifetime so you could remember this moment forever.

Once you both found your highs Steve held onto tightly. He kissed away the tears you hadn’t realised you’d shed. He muttered sweet nothings into your ears, reassuring you everything would be okay.

He swore that you’d be okay. You wanted to believe him, but you couldn’t because you knew it wasn’t true. You were about to be trapped into a loveless marriage, forced to produce an heir. All while knowing the man you truly loved was out there, out of your reach. A love that burnt bright, but far too short.

“I love you Steve” you whispered looking up at him, tears in your eyes.

“I love you too” Steve muttered, cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply.

That night after you’d fallen asleep Steve slipped out of the bed. He silently crept towards the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light so he wouldn’t accidentally wake you.

Closing the door behind him, he walked to the far corner and pulled out his phone. Staring down at the screen he wondered whether he was brainless or wise for what he was considering.

Glancing back towards the door, where you lay only a few feet away, he knew what he had to do. He had to fix this problem and nothing was going to stop him.

He dialled the number he needed, the line connecting after only a couple of rings.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky questioned.

“There’s been a change of plans, forget the Langleys, we’re taking down Drysdale and the Thrombeys instead” Steve states keeping his voice low.

“What happened?” Bucky asks.

“I’ve just learnt that there’s bigger fish to fry, and maybe the Langleys would be a good ally” Steve shrugs.

Bucky chuckles down the line “you fell for the girl didn’t you?”

Steve lets out a long sigh, there was no lying to his childhood friend “yes, can I trust you to put the gears in motion? I’m gonna hang around a little longer before heading back to New York”

“Not a problem boss” Bucky confirms.

“Good, how’s the rest of the syndicate?” Steve questions.

“Blissfully unaware that the top boss isn’t even in the state” Bucky smirks.

“Just the way I like it, see you soon buck” Steve smiles.

“Later punk,” Bucky says before hanging up.

Walking back into the bedroom he paused by the bed, looking down and watching you sleep. He was going to set you free.

Steve had never met Drysdale, but the trust fund prick had just made a deadly enemy. Because nobody took what the leader of the New York syndicate wanted and lived to tell the tale.

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wildandsmile · 6 months

Text

Summary: When your brother leaves for America to tend to some pressing business, he found himself in need of a favor, which you were unaware of. Little did you realize that this favor came with an unexpected twist – a pink-haired man tasked with monitoring your every move.

Tw: Weird club group , Bad pick up lines, kidnapping, stalking, unknown backstabbing and guns

Wc: 4.6k

Kinks: Fingering, Degrading, Cream-pie, Praising, Sir Name, Squirting, Exhibition, Sub Reader, Dom Reo, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), humiliation, Choking, Rough Sex and Knife play.

An: Kinktober is still going to be finished but I will only do my days instead of all 31 by myself, hope y’all can understand also sorry if the story weird I just wanted to get something out.

Enjoy Kinktober day 12!

Your older brother, a legendary gang leader in the heart of Tokyo, certainly brought some complications into your life. No more regular school for you, as he worried about a target on your back, so homeschooling it was. But the real headache was that everyone knew your face and your connection to him. It felt like trouble followed you everywhere, with people trying to get to him through you. So, you can imagine his frustration when he had to jet off to America, leaving you here, all alone and unprotected.

He was in a real bind, torn between his trip to America and leaving you all alone. So, as he sat there in his chair, puffing on a cigarette, he suddenly remembered that Toman guy who'd mentioned an alliance. Your brother wasn't one to make alliances lightly, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He picked up the phone and dialed them, striking a deal: he'd form an alliance, but only if they watched over you while he was gone. They didn't hesitate to jump on the opportunity.

And that's how you ended up standing at your front door, wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and pink panties, as you sleepily rubbed your eyes. There, you were greeted by a tall, pink-haired boy with star-shaped scars on the corners of his mouth. At first, you thought he must have had the wrong house, looking like he came to pick someone up for prom or something. But then it clicked – your brother had mentioned a pink-haired guy named Sanzu coming over to keep an eye on you. You couldn't quite recall the details because you'd zoned out when your brother explained it, something about him watching over you.

You barely had time to process it before you were shoved aside. Turning around, you found the guy already making himself at home, feet on your table and arms spread out on the edge of your couch. It irritated you, but you set that aside and approached him. After closing the door, you stood in front of him, hands on your hips, and decided it was time to lay down some ground rules.

"If you're going to be my bodyguard or whatever, we need to set some ground rules," you asserted, tilting your chin upward, trying to exude authority. The pink-haired man raised an eyebrow, and you continued, "Rule one: No breaking or messing up my or my brother's stuff, and get your feet off the table. Rule two: Don't follow me everywhere I go; I'll text you if I need your help or something. Rule thre—"

Your words were abruptly cut off as you noticed the man aiming a gun directly at your heart.

"Now you listen, princess," he declared, his voice oozing authority, "I'm the one who sets the rules here. I decide when you can come and go, who you can have over, and whose say matters. Your life is in my hands, so you'd better not get on my bad side. Do you comprehend?"

The gun remained pointed at you as he spoke, but you couldn't help but roll your eyes. You started to walk away, but his gunshot into the floor stopped you in your tracks. "I said, do you understand me?" he growled, this time with a harsher and louder tone. You reluctantly turned back towards him and gave a quick nod, but in that instant, he fired at a vase right behind you.

"Use your words," he demanded, and you quickly forced out a hesitant, "Yes, sir."

With that, you made your way to your room and flopped onto your bed, pondering why your brother would choose a wild pink-haired lunatic, brandishing a gun at the slightest provocation, to protect his baby sister. You couldn't help but admit that the guy had some charm, but you quickly dismissed that notion from your mind, reminding yourself that you had school the next day.

Morning came, and your alarm blared, jolting you out of bed. You began your usual routine with some light stretches, a soothing hot bath, and a touch of makeup. However, when you emerged from your room into the dining hall, you were met with an unexpected sight. There were no servants awaiting your arrival, and there certainly wasn't any breakfast on the table. The only thing in sight was Sanzu, sprawled across the dining table like a model for a magazine cover, casually toying with your dartboard.

"What are you up to, and where are all the servants?" you inquired as you approached the man whose name you still hadn't obtained. He remained silent, seemingly oblivious to your presence, which was starting to irk you.

"I know you can hear me, Mister," you insisted, letting the last word linger as you searched for an unflattering nickname. Just as you were pondering, he finally spoke, "My name's Sanzu, and as for your servants, I sent them away. Can't be too trusting of anyone now that your brother's gone, not even me," he explained while lounging on the table.

You let out a sigh of frustration before heading to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. Fortunately, you weren't so much of a spoiled rich kid that you couldn't make your own food. After about an hour, you returned to find Sanzu seated at the table, knife and fork in hand, as if he'd been eagerly awaiting his meal.

You were on the verge of ignoring him, but as you settled into your seat, something zipped past your cheek. You turned to see a dart, and it was clear who was behind it – Sanzu, still facing the other way. You rolled your eyes and returned to the kitchen, offering a middle finger salute as you mumbled, "If you wanted some, you could have just asked, asshole."

With a plate of food for the irritating pink-haired man in hand, you placed it in front of him and returned to your own seat. You closed your eyes to say a quick prayer, which seemed to get on Sanzu's nerves. He looked at you and commented, "You know there's no one listening, right?"

You gazed at him, your eyebrow raised and a hint of annoyance in your expression. "And how would you know that?" you questioned.

His response was laced with a bitter laugh, "If there were a god, neither you, your brother, nor any other gang member would be in this mess. We'd be living peaceful, happy, and healthy lives, but here we are." With that, he got up and walked away.

You decided to brush off Sanzu's earlier comment and resumed your prayer before eagerly digging into your meal. Once you had finished, you retreated to your study to join your teacher for the day's online lesson. This had been your monotonous routine for nearly three weeks – no going outside, no friends over, just making breakfast for both you and Sanzu, then retreating to your study for the day's schooling.

Truth be told, you were growing tired of the routine and decided it was time for a little adventure, away from your exasperating bodyguard. After your lesson, you informed Sanzu that you were going to bed and that he didn't need to worry about dinner. He offered a quick nod and waved you off, engrossed in flipping through various TV channels.

Back in your room, you readied yourself for your secret plan. You gathered your phone, wallet, makeup, different shoes, and a change of clothes, determined to slip out unnoticed.

Once you had all your essentials in hand, you called your friends, making sure they were exactly where they told you to meet, ensuring the cameras wouldn't catch you or the getaway car. After receiving confirmation that all was clear, you quietly descended to your brother's study. For some peculiar reason, this was the only room in the house the cameras couldn't see.

You carefully slipped out of a nearby window, evading any prying eyes, and managed to reach your friend's car without being detected. The moment you hopped in, your friend sped away as quickly as possible. And that's how you ended up at this club, indulging in drinks and dancing your heart out. It had been a while since you'd had this much fun and freedom.

As always, there had to be someone ready to ruin the fun, and in this case, it was a group of someones - a mix of girls and boys who approached you and your friends, attempting to flirt with you while delivering some of the lamest jokes and cheesy pickup lines you'd ever heard. The once-joyful atmosphere was now tainted, and you were ready to take a seat.

However, just as you turned to walk away, one of the girls grasped your wrist, halting your exit, and tried to reassure you, saying, "Come on, doll face, don't be shy. We're just trying to have a little fun." You gazed at her with a twisted expression of disgust, quickly sizing her up from head to toe. In a harsh tone, you retorted, "Let me go." Despite your threatening words, she still didn't release you. Frustration mounting, you did what any reasonable person would do and delivered a punch right to her throat, causing her to stumble back in pain.

Your brother had imparted some skills to you, though nothing too extreme. Yet now, all that training paid off. With your friends in tow, you decided it was time to leave the group that had spoiled your night. Before you departed, your bestie turned back, playfully tazed the troublesome girl, and stuck her tongue out, saying, "Gotcha, bitch."

You all stopped at a nearby restaurant for a quick meal, even though it didn't take long since it was already dark. While eating, a nagging feeling persisted, as if someone was watching you, but as you scanned the surroundings, you couldn't spot anyone, so you brushed it off.

Eventually, you and the girls paid for your food and began walking back to the car. Yet that eerie sensation of being observed didn't dissipate. You whispered to the group, huddled close, expressing your concerns. They all agreed that something felt off. With a quick nod of agreement, you all broke into a sprint, heading for the safety of your car.

You arrived in no time, your heart racing as you piled into the car. Locking the doors for safety, your friend ignited the engine, and within moments, smoke began to fill the car. The acrid scent immediately tipped you off to the nature of the gas – a sleeping agent. You urgently instructed your friend to open the door, but no matter how hard you all tried, it wouldn't budge, and by then, it was too late.

As you regained consciousness, you found yourself face-to-face with a masked man. Despite your efforts, your limbs felt immobilized, and your struggles proved futile. The man stepped back and chuckled, remarking, "You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

He then turned to converse with another man in the room, their hushed words leaving you in the dark. Letting out a long sigh, you realized this wasn't your first kidnapping experience. But, for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear because your brother wasn't around to protect you.

As you and your friends piled into the car, you reached your destination in record time. Locking the car doors for safety, your friend revved the engine, and within moments, an unusual smoke began to fill the car. You recognized the distinctive smell – it was a sleeping gas. In a panic, you instructed your friend to open the door, but no matter how hard you all tried, it remained stubbornly shut, and by the time you realized the danger, it was too late.

When you regained consciousness, your eyes met those of a masked man. Your limbs felt strangely unresponsive, and your attempts to break free proved futile. The masked man stepped back, letting out a condescending chuckle, and noted, "You're quite the spirited one, aren't you?"

He then turned to confer with another man in the room, speaking in hushed tones that left you in the dark. Exhaling deeply, you realized this wasn't your first kidnapping, but it was the first time you felt a creeping sense of unease, as your protective brother was nowhere to be found.

"What kind of games?" you managed to ask as sweat trickled down your face. The masked man remained silent for a moment, only dragging the knife's tip along your bare thighs. When he reached the part of your skirt that covered the rest of your legs, he paused, gazing up at you with a wicked grin.

"Oh, the fun," he purred as he sliced through your skirt. You recoiled, and the other two assailants closed in. Fear began to well up inside you, and it was only when one of them placed a hand on your shoulder that you couldn't contain it any longer. You screamed, "Help! Somebody, help me, please!"

The masked man with the knife pressed the blade against your skin, whispering sinister words before he was abruptly interrupted. The door burst open, and all eyes turned to the entrance. There, like a knight in shining armor, stood Sanzu.

"Hey, princess, close your eyes for me, won't you?" Sanzu's voice broke through, and as he leaned against the door frame, you obeyed, shutting your eyes. Soon after, you heard a cacophony of noises and groans, and then the sensation of your hands being released and your body being lifted.

As you opened your eyes, you found Sanzu carrying you. Glancing back at the guys who had been your captors, they were sprawled out on the floor. When you turned your gaze back to Sanzu, he was looking down at you with a radiant smile, blood trickling from the sides of his head, and you could tell it wasn't his blood.

Finally, an exit came into view. Sanzu gently set you down and looked you directly in the eyes, saying, "Stay. I need to settle some business with those guys from earlier, okay?" You didn't say anything; you merely nodded in response. With that, he turned and walked back to where you had come from.

·٠•●🩷𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖟𝖚 𝕻𝕺𝖁 🩷●•٠·

He returned to the cold, dimly lit hallway and reentered the room, finding the men still unconscious. Taking his time, he carefully moved them all to the room's center and began tying them up. Nearby, a bucket of water caught his eye, and he grabbed it, emptying its contents over the group of men. Predictably, they awoke, wriggling and squirming, which only elicited a chuckle from Sanzu.

The men turned their gaze toward him, their voices filled with confusion. "What the hell are you doing, man? This wasn't part of the deal," one of them protested. Sanzu merely rolled his eyes and approached, pressing a gun to the man's forehead. "And I don't recall giving you permission to touch her either, so it seems we've both broken our deal in some way," he retorted, increasing the pressure on the gun.

The man from the other side attempted to speak but was abruptly silenced when the gun went off. His lifeless body fell limp, and a pool of blood began to form beneath him.

"I can't stand it when people ask me dumb questions," Sanzu declared, his gun aimed at the remaining man, and another gunshot rang out. He had systematically taken down all the men in the room except the one standing before him.

The man trembled, his heart racing, and Sanzu reveled in the fear that danced across the man's face. It was this thrill that had drawn him to the world of gangs in the first place. However, his excitement waned when the man began to shout at him, "You're a freakin' monster, nothing but a sick freak!"

In response, Sanzu let out a long, manic laugh and danced around like a madman. Once he regained his composure, he fixed his gaze on the man and explained, "Of course, I'm a monster. That's why I orchestrated all of this – to appear as a hero in her eyes, so she couldn't see the true man-eater that I am."

The man attempted to speak again but was silenced by a bullet through his head. With a sigh, Sanzu returned to the door, making a swift phone call, "Hey, Rindou, send the clean-up team to my location." He hung up and then made his way back to you.

·٠•●🩷𝕰𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝕻𝕺𝖁 + 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖕🩷●•٠·

You were back at the house, and in a hurry, you headed straight to your room, shutting the door behind you. Unbeknownst to you, Sanzu had followed you, and it wasn't until you closed the door to your room that you noticed his presence. You quickly opened the door and pulled him into your room, asking, "Do you mind staying with me, at least until I calm down?"

Rolling his eyes, he gave you a quick nod and headed over to your bed. He plopped down on it and patted the spot beside him, and you interpreted that as his invitation to join him. With that, you closed your door and made your way to his side.

The two of you watched TV for a while, enjoying each other's company. The atmosphere shifted when a steamy scene played out on the TV. You couldn't help but catch yourself glancing at Sanzu and then back at the screen. Yet, every time you looked at him, he appeared unfazed, his attention firmly fixed on the television.

The moment you glanced at him again and found him staring back, a shiver ran down your spine. It was only then that you finally spoke up. "You know, if you keep undressing me with your eyes, I might just freeze to death," he teased, sporting a cheesy grin that left you blushing.

"I wasn't undressing you with my eyes," you countered, trying to mask your embarrassment, "I was just looking at you to pick something out as a gift for saving me." You couldn't help but fib through your teeth, but Sanzu wasn't buying it.

He pinned you to the bed, now hovering over you, and declared, "Now, come on, princess, no need to lie." You attempted to protest, but he silenced you by pressing his lips against yours. The kiss didn't linger for long, but it left your mind feeling hazy, like pudding.

"How about you let me help you forget about what happened today? Consider it my reward and your stress reliever. What do you say?" Sanzu inquired, peering deeply into your eyes. In response, you gave a quick nod, prompting him to kiss your forehead and neck while uttering, "Just remember, you asked for this, princess."

·٠•●🩷𝕾𝖒𝖚𝖙 🩷●•٠·

You keep your eyes closed as you groan and wriggle under his touch, savoring the feeling of the knife and his cold, numb fingers. You groan amusingly as you snap and trap the hand of the man with the pinker hair between your thighs.

The man replies, "Mmm, seems like you're ready for some fun," as he runs the blade of the knife down your stomach and watches you shudder with excitement. With a low voice, he says, "But first, we need to get you out of these clothes."

With that, he begins to carefully start cutting your large shirt with his knife, showing your exposed skin inch by inch.

After removing your shirt, he will straddle you while drawing patterns on your chest with a knife. "You know how much I love to play with you, don't you?" He grins and leans in for a kiss, then bites your neck. Slowly, teasely, he moves his free hand down your body in the direction of your underwear. "Let's see how much you can take" He adds, before sliding a finger under the elastic of your underwear and letting it go with a snap is other hand now setting the knife black on the table.

You recoil in horror and hiss as the stinging sensation hits your skin.

As he watches you lean into her touch, he chuckles gently and watches you with hungry eyes. He grins down at you and slides a finger under your pant elastic, rubbing his fingers gently between your folds. "You're so eager," he says. "But patience is a virtue, and I want to savor every moment," he says as he leans down to bite your nipple and sucks it into his mouth, setting aside the knife.

He mutters gently, "Mmm, you feel so good," as she continues to glide his hands expertly through your slickness, and his breath is hot against your skin. "You're so moist and so silky...You feel incredible under my fingers, but I think it's time for you to show me how badly you want it," he adds, sitting up and moving away with a sly grin on his face. Let me hear you grovel for it. "Beg me to touch you again and again."

You look into his eyes with desperation as you whisper, and you groan as you realize you won't be able to feel his touch again. "P-Please don't stop, I need your touch…please touch me. I'm pleading with you.

He laughs at your pleading and kisses you passionately, his fingers returning to your swollen clit. As he pulls away from the kiss, saying, "That's a good little pet," he watches you pant and wriggle against his, his touch remaining steady despite your throbbing core. To which he replied, "But I want to hear you say it louder."

If you don't respond, he'll get more aggressive, dropping his fingers to circle your wet hole and gently teasing it as your face contorts with pleasure.

Beg for it, already. As he asks, "How badly do you want to come?" his hands move rapidly and tightly against you, sparking a fire deep within you.

"Fuckk…Please don't cancel my trip; I really need to be here. You start to scream, but it doesn't help; he pulls away his hand and stands by the side of the bed.

Sanzu's mouth curved into an alluring grin as his fingers traced the curves of your trembling stomach, inching tantalizingly closer to the flimsy cloth that barely covered your alluring curves. He eagerly drew it down, longing to feel his hand disappear behind the plush velvet. As his fingertips brushed over your tantalizingly bare thighs, they inched ever so little closer to your yearning core, and your breath caught in your throat.

What's the point, "Come on don’t tell me I turned you into a dumb slut already yet, princess?" He poked his finger inside your cunt, laughing at how tightly the walls gripped his finger.

Knowing that keeping your tongue quiet was going to be impossible, you said, "Fuck," but you didn't want the moment to end since you were so attracted to him. You needed him badly. With your eyes closed, you muttered, "Fuck, Sanzu," again.

You began making low whimpers and groans as he pushed it in and out of you, causing your breathing to become irregular. When Sanzu inserted his middle finger and ramped up her speed, you tossed your head back in an instant because you wanted to hear more of the amazing noises you created particularly for him. And he was completely content with everything. You started repeating her name under your breath when he got to the portion of the speech that always made you roll your eyes back in your head.

He said softly, "You're making such a pretty mess princess, look at you." It was the mix of his chilling voice and deft hands that gave you the old familiar feeling of dread.

I like how flexible you are in my hands. He gushed, "You take me so well," as he raised your skirt fabric once more to examine your cunt with his free hand. As they dripped from your thighs, he saw that your fluids were soaking through his hand and collecting at your feet. Unable to contain his hilarity, he let out a whistle at the location.

You lowered your sight to the place where he met your body and moaned in shock because you couldn't believe how soaked you were for him. If you thought Sanzu turned you on, seeing your body react to his touch was a whole other experience.

While his enormous, thick fingers stretched out your cunt in the alley, all you could hear were wet moans. The ease with which his fingers glided into your cunt was almost mortifying. You would feel guilty about it if you weren't getting fucked out by him, but you didn't care.

"I'm- I'm so close! Close your eyes and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you beg him not to stop.

Sanzu spoke softly in your ear, "Cum for me, princess," as you closed your eyes and agape your mouth in search of your high. You were on the edge of passing out from the exertion, yet he didn't stop his moves on your body until you practically begged him to.

After you've squirted all over his hands, he'll proudly observe your messy state as he pulls out each finger and brings it to his mouth to be sucked clean. Your eyes were glistening and your lips were bitten because you were too tired to talk. Your tits were almost visible now that your dress barely covered your upper torso.

You finally took a deep breath, but before you could adjust to his massive frame, he lined up his cock with your now too sensitive cunt and drove his throbbing cock within. You wept because carrying his presence within you was driving you crazy. After rubbing your clit in rough circles with his left palm, Sanzu made a series of low groans. And his right made its way to your thirst, landing softly on your throat and making you and Sanzu feel like you were about to cum.

You look great like a filthy little cum slut ready to get filled, but what you don't get to cum is what makes you look great. So feel free to cry on my cock while I decide if you can continue to breathe. You whimpered as your nails dug painfully into his wrist. Slowly, your disorientation returned. When I tell you to, princess, you'll cum on my cock. While his mouth was close to yours, he started talking. His voice cracked with effort, and you could hear him taking small breaths.

The messed up expression on your face as you moaned, "M'mm yes sir, promise not to cum until I'm told" only served to make Sanzu more aggressive.

After giving you a couple more sharp thrusts, Sanzu says, "Good girl," again. When he hits the sweet spot again and time again, a sound like a scream comes from deep within your chest. He let go of your neck a little while ago.

"Cum." Your eyes suddenly went white as the demand reached your ears. While you were having an orgasmic experience, you could feel his hips jitter against yours.

He gently backed away, admiring the sight of you straining to stand up with your legs spread wide and his sperm seeping out of you into the cold ground. After cleaning you up the two of you lay in bed looking at each other and you say “I never thought we would get to this point” with that Sanzu lets out a hard laugh before pulling you into a deep kiss and goes “Never did I”. And with in that moment the room to your door opens is you brother and without he say “What fuck is this”

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separatist-apologist · 2 months

Text

Traitors Never Win

Summary: When Feyre Archeron's father promises she'll marry notorious crime boss Rhysand Moreno, Feyre will do anything to get out of the arrangement…including framing him for murder.

Rhysand isn't about to let her go so easily.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

The agent cooked. Feyre had never been a cook which made living on her own hell even now. She preferred things that could be dumped into a pan and heated up, preferably in the microwave. That first morning, Feyre woke to Rhys cooking waffles. He looked casual enough in jeans and a well-fitted t-shirt and the scene was strangely domestic.

She didn’t want to think like that. Wasn’t it bad enough she was sleeping with Tamlin? What would the rest of the agents think of her if word spread she’d sleep with anyone who came knocking on her door? The problem was Rhys and his stupid, perfect face. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen in her entire life. It didn’t seem possible that someone could look the way he did.

Tall, with thick, dark hair that gleamed blue in the sunlight. Starry eyes that seemed violet, especially in the dark, his high cheekbones, his full lips, his perfect jaw…not to mention how broad and muscular he was, how large his hands, just…everything about him was appealing.

And he cooked, too.

It was his smile, though, that had Feyre really considering something purely physical. She and Tamlin had never made any exclusive promises to one another. For all she knew, he had someone in every city he visited. He was attractive enough for that sort of thing, certainly. He’d never told her not to see anyone else…though maybe he just assumed she wouldn’t try and sleep with one of his colleagues.

All she knew was that if this had been her original agent, she would have tried a lot harder to answer some of those questions.

Rhys set himself up in her spare bedroom which existed solely because agents occasionally stayed over before catching an early flight. Feyre fluttered around offering to help, but Rhys waved her off with that easy smile of his.

He was on his computer in the living room for most of the afternoon, brow furrowed as he typed away. Likely letting people know he’d made contact and she was safe and whatever else it was he did day to day. Feyre was endlessly fascinated by him and found herself strolling into the room and plunking herself down on the opposite end of the cream colored couch.

“So are you a bodyguard?” she asked him. He was bigger than Tamlin and had the look of someone unafraid to take a life.

Rhys glanced over, one brow arched. “Something like that.”

“So if…he…tries to—”

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt you. How about that?” Rhys offered, eyes returning to his computer. “You don’t need to worry about anything anymore.”

“All I do is worry,” she admitted with a heavy sigh. Of course, she couldn’t tell the agent that her worries had more to do with herself and her sisters than they did with Rhysand. If anyone ever learned the truth Feyre would go to jail for the rest of her life, and her sisters probably would, too. She needed things to conclude so she could put those anxieties to rest and finally get on with her life.

“What do you worry about?” Rhys asked absently, typing again.

“Everything,” she admitted as she drew her legs beneath her chin. “I didn’t think this would go on as long as it did.”

He nodded his head, eyes glassy for a moment. “I meant what I said. Nothing is going to happen to you. I’m here to protect you.”

Feyre sighed. “I believe that.”

And she did, if only because he got paid to keep her alive. Still, any incentive was better than none, and his presence was strangely welcome. Feyre talked to fill the silence and this time, Rhys responded to everything she said, no matter how inane. And better than that, he asked her questions. Once he finished with work, Rhys made his way into the kitchen where Feyre liked to paint. The dining room was part of the spacious, open room. Feyre would open the patio door when it was warm and paint whatever happened to catch her interest. Today she was painting more trees as she tried to get her texture and shading just right. Something about painting park eluded her until she was left with a muddy mess topped in green.

Rhys strolled in, peering at her work before looking up for comparison. “Mind if I watch?” he asked and she didn’t, really. People were often watching her work and if it inspired them to pick up a brush and try themselves, well that was even better.

“Only if you agree to paint, too,” she said before ripping off a sheet of paper from the pad she was using. Rhys watched for a moment, unaware she was overtaken by a memory of her offering Tamlin the same thing. Tamlin had refused, cheeks darkening as he mumbled he had talent for painting at all.

Rhys took the brush. “Don’t judge me,” he warned her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she promised. She thought of herself as a good teacher, so while Feyre worked on not making a muddy mess of her own painting, she watched Rhys too. It was always interesting to see what people chose to do first. How they anchored line and color to an otherwise blank world.

Rhys, like so many others, chose a pale blue for the sky while leaving a space for a bright, yellow sun. Juvenile but not awful, either. Feyre saved a lot of those details for later, though she had lightly marked out her background with some color, just to keep herself rooted in her artistic reality.

“I can feel your judgment,” he warned without ire. “You promised.”

“It’s not judgment. Just curiosity,” she replied. “You have some talent.”

“That’s a generous assessment of my abilities,” Rhys joked. “I don’t think it’s quite time to quit my day job, though.”

“The trick to art is practice, you know. Everyone thinks its something innate—”

“I think there is an innate quality to it, though,” Rhys interrupted, turning those bright eyes on her. “Not everyone sees light and shadow the way you do.”

“You could teach yourself,” she replied, strangely breathless.

“Sure. But that’s my point. You see it, and I don’t.”

Feyre didn’t know what to make of that. Ducking her head to hide the flush crawling up the back of her neck, Feyre returned to her painting and so did Rhysand. In the end, he put together something entirely workable—good, even, for someone who claimed to have no skill. And her tree trunks didn’t come out muddy, for once.

She supposed he was good luck. Ever since he’d shown up, things seemed to be going better. She had ninety days before Rhysand was set before a grand jury for indictment—when she’d finally tell the lie that started her down this road. He’d go to prison, his operation utterly dismantled, and Feyre would go home.

She’d be Feyre again. Not Sarah. She could do anything, including nothing at all if she wanted. The idea was immensely appealing. Feyre went to bed that night dreaming of the life waiting for her.

She woke to the sight of Rhys nearly naked in the hall. With nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, Rhys stood in the hall rifling through the closet for something while Feyre…just stared. His whole body was pure, broad, golden muscle. Ink crawled up his shoulders and biceps, ending just beneath his collarbone and elbow. She supposed he wanted to present himself as someone clean cut given he was a federal agent. Lucien and Tamlin didn’t have tattoos—maybe they weren’t allowed to be visible.

Or maybe he knew how good looking he was and didn’t want to outwardly spoil it.

Regardless, her eyes traveled over his toned stomach to the vee vanishing into the towel and oh. Oh no. She knew right then she wanted to crawl into his lap and run her nails down his chest and once again, guilt flared in her stomach. How well did he know Tamlin, she wondered? Tamlin had been her savior and she cared about him…though Feyre didn’t love him.

And she wasn’t his girlfriend, she reasoned.

Still, Feyre cleared her throat, unwilling to pretend she hadn’t seen him. Rhys glanced over, throwing her an easy smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a clean razor?”

“Shelf above if you don’t mind pink,” she replied.

“I don’t mind pink at all,” Rhys said with that easy grin. Adjusting his stance to spread his legs ever so slightly, she watched him reach that muscular arm upward and pull down the plastic container holding the razor. What, she wondered, was he shaving? His jaw was smooth, though she knew the shadow would return before dinner, just as it had before.

She liked the clean cut man, though there had been something about the rough stubble that had been distracting while they’d eaten the night before. Maybe it was just his mouth that was distracting.

She looked back up, horrified to find his gaze pinned firmly on her. And judging from the expression on his face, he knew what she’d been looking at. What she’d been thinking.

“How well do you know Tamlin?” Feyre blurted out, suddenly embarrassed.

All the ease evaporated from his posture. “Well enough,” he said, his tone suddenly frosty. “He won’t be returning.”

“What?” Feyre asked, following after Rhys into the bathroom. “How come?”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Rhys said, “I only know the rumors, of course.”

“About me?”

Oh God. Had their relationship gotten him fired? Was that why he hadn’t texted her? He was mad?

“Worse, I’m afraid. He was on the wrong side of your investigation,” Rhys said.

Feyre blinked, looking at the white subway tile on the wall. He was helping Rhysand? The whole time? She’d told Tamlin so much…Feyre brought her fingertips to her mouth. She should have known, she realized. Should have realized why he wanted to keep such close proximity, why he fought so hard to remain her main contact.

“He was going to take me back,” Feyre murmured.

“We might have lost you forever had that happened,” Rhys told her gravely. “But I’m here now.”

She nodded, turning back to look at him. He was so tall, so serious as he looked down at her, one hand braced on the edge of the counter. He had her half pinned between both himself and the sink and if she’d wanted, she could have surged upward and kissed him.

But Tamlin…oh. Feyre couldn’t bring herself to do it. “I’m sorry, I…give me a second.” Feyre closed the door behind her so he could shave himself in peace before making her way to her bedroom. She had a gun tucked away in the drawer of her side table and right then, she wanted to use it. Wanted to press it up against Tamlin’s chest and fire straight through him.

And then she wanted to hunt down the man who’d bought her and kill him, too. She felt helpless right then—caged. She couldn’t go anywhere, couldn’t do anything. If Rhysand wanted to hunt her down, well, here she was. There was nothing she could do but hope Tamlin hadn’t told Rhysand where she was.

Feyre sighed, slamming the drawer shut. If she pulled a gun on a federal agent, she was likely to be arrested. She needed air—to take a walk and try and calm herself down. There was no need to tell Rhys she was leaving—he was just monitoring, not guarding twenty four seven. And she didn’t want to see him or his stupid, beautiful face right then.

It was too distracting and Feyre needed to focus. In the early days of her new life, Feyre had spent nearly all her time trying to figure out ways to escape. What routes she’d take, what she’d have to bring with her, where she’d even go. She’d been so heavily monitored back then that she knew she couldn’t bring a phone with her—that could be tracked.

She’d have to buy a new one somewhere else.

What had stopped her back then was the fear she’d be running straight into the arms of Moreno. But maybe…maybe sitting complacent all these years had been the problem. If Tamlin was spying…why hadn’t Rhysand come looking for her?

It didn’t make sense—unless Rhysand had no interest in marrying her at all and was waiting for an opportune moment to kill her. Tamlin, who’d been supposed to bring her in, was likely waiting on those orders.

“Feyre!”

Feyre spun on the sidewalk, surprised to see Rhys jogging after her in a pair of black athletic shorts and a matching black t-shirt. She could see the outline of his gun in his waistband, proving once again what a fucking cop he was.

“I’m walking,” she said when he reached her, strangely petulant.

“You could have told me,” he retorted, running a hand over his jaw. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m going for a walk,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Alone.”

His eyes scanned the neighborhood, not finding anything objectionable among the rows of townhouses and sapling cherry blossoms.

“Twenty minutes before I come looking,” he warned.

“Fine,” she agreed, though it wasn’t fine at all. Feyre probably wouldn’t have spent more than five minutes had he not given her a time limit. It wasn’t Rhys’ fault she was upset, either, though she couldn’t stop herself from marching away from him anyway. He didn’t say a word about it and when she dared to look over her shoulder, he’d vanished.

Feyre returned exactly after twenty minutes. Rhys was in the living room, casual as ever as he typed away at his computer.

“I’m back,” she told him with only minimal bite.

He offered her a smile. “Feeling better?”

She shrugged and Rhys closed his laptop.

“Want me to kill him?” he offered with a joking smile.

“Kind of,” she admitted, though it felt awful to say. “Would you?”

“Consider it done, darling,” he replied with a wink. “Have you ever shot someone?”

Feyre shook her head no.

“We should rectify that,” Rhys said in that easy going way of his. She had asked Tamlin—numerous times, actually. And every time he’d told her no, citing agency policy that must have been bullshit. Rhysand likely didn’t want her knowing how to use a weapon and she’d been so stupid to believe anything he said. She had the training she’d gotten as a girl from her father, though who knew how good it was anymore.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Rhys agreed, turning back to his laptop screen. Whatever waited for him drew a deep frown and the frantic clacking of keys.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me tonight?” she asked impulsively. Raising his eyebrows, Rhys nodded.

“Yeah. After dinner. Pick something out. Whatever you like.”

And Feyre vowed to do just that.

RHYS:

Things were going too well. Better than he’d first imagined. Feyre returned to teaching the morning after they’d watched a movie together. And though she’d occupied one end of the sofa and he’d taken the other, she’d wanted to be around him. They’d passed two weeks like that, creating a little routine. He got up before her, used to being up at four or five in the morning to go over business before he went to the gym at six in the morning. He was still going to the gym while Feyre slept, but now his business centered around her. He, Azriel, and Cassian continued to talk like normal and texted in code. Azriel was having a hell of a time—he’d attempted to kidnap Elain and accidentally drove her straight into the arms of the federal agent watching her. Rhys found his antics rather amusing, truthfully. He expected the middle sister to be the easiest of the three to control and as it turned out, she was the most wily.

Cassian, on the other hand, had taken the same route Rhys had and merely executed the agent overseeing Nesta Archeron and, like Rhys had moved himself in. To hear Cassian tell it, the pair were growing sourdough starter and doing yoga with the sunrise every morning. Rhys imagined there was something else happening there—but didn’t dare comment on it.

But if Cassian could keep the eldest Archeron docile, Rhys would have leverage when it came to the middle one. He suspected the three of them were protecting each other, though he couldn’t prove that. It was just a hunch, and Rhys had long learned to trust his gut.

After the gym, Rhys came home and made Feyre breakfast before she went to work. He wanted to make her lunch, too—but didn’t dare play that card. Not yet. She was still stewing over Tamlin, prone to little sullen outbursts whenever she remembered his betrayal.Rhys could admit he’d been loose with the truth and eventually she was likely going to have a problem with the way he’d phrased things.

That was future Rhys’s problem. Current Rhys merely had to convince Feyre to act on the attraction she so obviously felt before he whisked her away to his cabin in the mountains and fully made her his wife. He’d never tricked a woman into falling in love with him, so the finer points were a little messy.

But he figured if he could show her what their life would be like, she’d settle into it a little easier. He’d misunderstood her all these years, but Rhys understood her now. Feyre hated being told what to do. If he’d wanted her, he ought to have demanded her father keep the engagement a secret and courted her on his own.

Rhys couldn’t go back and undo the past, which left him in the present, sitting on the couch in a pair of loose sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. He had, perhaps manipulatively, gone without anything underneath the sweatpants and twice he’d caught her staring.

Come on, darling. Climb in my lap.

Rhys wanted to touch her so badly it was making him itch with need. Feyre maintained her position on the sofa even if her fingers twisted nervously in her lap and her eyes kept darting toward him.

Rhys kept himself focused, legs spread ever so slightly with invitation. And still, he found himself alone that night again, fisting his own cock and frustrated with his inability to make real progress with the woman he was trying to marry.

He was on borrowed time and he knew it. They wouldn’t make it ninety days like this. Eventually whoever was supposed to show up would, and the whole thing would be up. Rhys really didn’t want to add another murder to his growing list of crimes. Each new mess made it a little easier to catch him.

Rhys needed to do something. So the first morning Feyre was off, Rhys woke her up with coffee and eggs before announcing, “I’m taking you to the gun range today.” That was merely practical. One day she might need to know how to aim straight, to fire one shot rather than ten. He didn’t want to have to spend his time worrying that someone could get to his wife who would be unprotected when he wasn’t there. This was also a gesture of good will between them.

Can’t you see I’m better than he is? I’ll take care of you if you let me.

Feyre blinked up at him, her hair an appealing mass of loose curls. Rhys could imagine another scenario in which her hair was that tousled—he had to turn away from the sight of her before his sweatpants betrayed him.

“Why today?”

Time is against us and I need you to be ready for what’s coming. “I should have done it sooner.”

Sooner, like the minute he’d agreed to marry her but he couldn’t go back. He wished he would have introduced himself back then rather than skulking around like a petulant child, annoyed with his own choices.

Feyre dressed in a pair of leggings and a tight, athletic top that made it hard to drive. Hard to think, really. He was so used to seeing her in oversized shirts and dresses that hung shapelessly off her body. This was different—the fabric hugged every curve of her body in an obscene way and Rhys found himself walking slower so he could admire the view of her ass without her knowing.

“You just point and shoot, right?” Feyre asked once they were tucked away in their booth. Of course she wouldn’t let him take care of her, shaking him off when he tried to come around her. Rhys did it anyway, if only to breathe in the sweet scent of her hair.

“Something like that,” he said, covering her small, paint stained hands with his own. Did she notice the little scars that nicked his hands? Did she wonder how he’d gotten them? “No hesitation.”

Feyre fired a round, hitting the center target every time with supreme satisfaction. She turned, eyes bright and eyebrows raised.

“What were you saying?” she asked.

I love you.

“I thought you’d never been,” Rhys replied.

“My father was mafia, remember? We didn’t need gun ranges…he had us shooting tin cans outside when we were old enough to stand. Besides, I did archery in high school. I think I can hit a human body if I need to.”

“You said—”

“That I had never shot a man,” she replied, the clever little thing. “And I haven’t. Yet.”

He imagined that Feyre thought she’d be shooting him. What did she picture, he wondered? Some aging creep hoping for a child bride? Whatever it was, she wasn’t imagining him.

“You knew what I meant,” Rhys grumbled, trying and failing to be anything but amused with her. His clever woman. Rhys practically purred at the thought.

“Go on then,” Rhys said, nodding toward her bullet-riddled paper. “Do it again.”

And she did. It was, perhaps, some of the most fun Rhys had engaged in, maybe in years. They traded at some point, trying to outdo the other by mere millimeters. Rhys threw some of his shots simply to let her think she was catching up, only to utterly decimate her record moments later.

It felt like foreplay, if he was being honest. Feyre was competitive and clever and had a filthy mouth he was desperate to put to better use.

He brushed the back of her hand with his fingers when they were back outside, careful to catch her eye when she looked up at him with surprise. Yes, he wanted to say, I did that on purpose.

He swore he saw her blush.

Rhys took her home, disappointed when she vanished up the stairs before he’d managed to get his shoes off. He went to his computer to monitor his home and talk to Cassian and Azriel.

Cassian:

Compromised yesterday- shot in the leg. N headed up to you, Az. Might be with civilians- don’t kill them. Just contain them until I arrive. Eta 3:25

Azriel:

Already found them via shotgun to my face. I can’t clean up your mess- fed took E back into hiding.

Jesus fucking Christ. Rhys had days left, if that, before the feds were pounding on their door. He didn’t intend to go to jail because he got caught playing house with Feyre Archeron. They might have been fine had the middle Archeron not escaped with a federal agent. He’d check in, surely. Warn the rest of them as soon as he could?

Still, Rhys was occupied all through dinner and the movie Feyre picked. He didn’t notice she’d scooted closer, nor did he realize why she lingered in the hall until he turned off the light. All he could think about was his escape plan. He had a multitude of houses, not all of which were in his name. He could take her up to his cabin in the mountains, he reasoned. She’d be pissed, but they’d be safe. Rhys wasn’t under house arrest and could be anywhere he liked.

Except, he supposed, with Feyre.

Semantics.

He’d take her in the morning, then. Lie and say they’d been compromised, get her off the grid, and continue his courtship until she was in love with him. And then he’d tell her the truth—or, maybe he’d marry her and then tell her the truth of the matter. She’d need to know her last name, after all.

And then it would be too late. Rhys liked that plan enough to get into bed wearing nothing at all. That was how he preferred to sleep though for the last two weeks he’d kept clothes on just in case Feyre climbed into bed with him. It had become glaringly obvious she wasn’t—he was going to have to crawl into hers—and Rhys wanted a good night's sleep before he packed Feyre up into his car and took a trip up the mountains.

He fell asleep to rain and woke to someone standing on the edge of his bed. Thunder crashed overhead, a match for his racing heart. He didn’t think—merely reacted, grabbing the intruder by the shoulders and flipping them to the bed. Rhys had a gun against their temple, thighs pressed tight around their waist to keep them from escaping, before a bolt of lightning illuminated the room.

“Feyre,” Rhys breathed, taking his finger off the trigger. “I thought…fuck.”

“It’s fine,” she said, her eyes bright like moonlight in the dark. “Next time I’ll knock.”

Rhys took a breath, pressing one hand against his naked chest. Naked body—Rhys looked down and found his cock pressed against the thin material of her shirt. Feyre must have known it, too, given the way she was looking firmly at the ceiling.

“I ah…sorry,” he heard himself saying, sliding off her body with screaming reluctance.

“It’s okay,” she replied breathlessly.

Come on, sweetheart. Give me something I can work with.

Rhys didn’t know what to do and settled for sliding beneath the blanket rather than stand up and let her see the erection he was now sporting. “Did something happen?”

“I ah…it was just a nightmare. I thought…I can go–”

“No!” he exclaimed, his heart racing for an entirely different reason. “No. Stay.”

“Should I take my clothes off, too?” she tried to joke.

“Only if you feel compelled to,” he replied, the words smoother than they felt. Rhys was breathless, too, and half delirious when she slid herself beneath the same blankets he was under. She turned to face him, head propped up on her elbow.

“You keep saying things like that,” she reminded him, a question hiding somewhere in the statement.

“One day you’ll take me up on it,” Rhys replied, unable to stop himself from brushing a strand of thick hair from her face.

“I don’t think federal agents are supposed to sleep with the people they’re protecting,” Feyre reminded him. As if Rhys would have cared even if he’d been the honorable sort.

“Who said anything about sleep, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked her, holding her gaze as the storm raged around them. “I can think of a million things I’d like to do to you that have nothing to do with sleep.”

Her breath caught. “Like what?”

Rhys couldn’t help but run his finger over her exposed collarbone. Lightly, he traced it over the lacy fabric, making his way between the valley of her breasts to the waistband of her shorts. “I could show you, if you like?”

Say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes—

“Will you stop if I don’t like it?”

Rhys’s head emptied out, replaced with a violent buzzing. Vision tinged with blood, he whispered, “Has someone not?”

“No,” she replied, easing some of the white hot fury lashing through him. “I just wanted to know.”

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to,” Rhys vowed, wishing she understood the depth of his words.

Feyre looked up at him with those moonlit eyes. “Show me.”

Oh, thank God. Rhys repositioned himself beside her, reached for her face and then, when he could all but taste her breath, he whispered, “I want to kiss you.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond. Rhys needed an answer to the question he’d been asking himself for the last five years—was she worth all this? In his darkest, most frustrated moments, he’d managed to convince himself this was all a mistake. That he ought to let her go and forget the entire thing and instead spend his time getting out of the feds little trap.

But morning always came, reassuring him that this was right. Feyre was his match and Rhys wanted her. Wanted every piece of her.

He’d wait to fuck her, though his cock screamed in protest the moment the decision was made. Good things came to those who waited, and right now Rhys had the upper hand.

Fuck, but Feyre tasted better than he’d imagined. Her lips were soft, her mouth minty and she smelled like sugared fruit. He wanted to lick his way down her body until he found himself between her legs where he’d lick some more.

Rhys threaded his fingers into her hair, angling her head so he could kiss her deeper. His mind had run away with him, undressing her gently in some moments, viciously in others. He wanted to rip her out of her clothes or better still, cut them from her body while teasing her pretty, perfect skin with his blade.

A little pain, a little pleasure.

And as he kissed her, tongue sliding along her own, Rhys thought about putting her on his face and letting her suffocate him, taking her pleasure at his expense. He thought about her sinking to her knees, delicate fingers wrapped around the shaft of his cock as she pumped and licked and sucked while he held the wall to keep himself upright.

Feyre moaned, running her hands over his biceps and drawing him out of his fantasies. He had time—a lifetime worth of it—and she was here, willing and pliant in his hands. She was kissing him back, it was her teeth nipping his bottom lip and her fingertips sliding through his hair.

Her parted legs made in offering, her knee touching his thigh. Rhys couldn’t help himself as he slid one hand up her thigh. Higher and higher while Feyre’s kissing slowed, her focus narrowing on what he was doing.

Deciding to stay over her clothes for the moment, Rhys moved his fingers between her legs and rubbed a slow deliberate circle. Do you like that?

Feyre exhaled softly, hips arching ever so slightly. It was Rhys’s turn to moan. “You’re sweet,” he whispered, teeth grazing her jaw. He kept his fingers circling against her clit, using the fabric as light friction. He wanted her desperate enough to forget everything but what she wanted so he could see her undone. Rhys wanted to hear her scream his name, wanted her to know that she belonged to him.

For Rhys, it had been five years of nothing but his hand and fantasies and all he wanted was to bury himself inside her and fuck her just as long. He was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t realize where her hand was going as it moved down his chest to his stomach. For all he knew, he was hallucinating her touch at all.

Her fingers curling around the base of his cock were very, very real. If he’d been asleep, that jolt of pleasure would have woken him up. Rhys stuttered out a gasping breath, pulling away to look at her. Feyre’s wicked smile told him everything he needed to know mere moments before her grip tightened and she pumped him in her hand.

“Move the blanket,” she whispered. Rhys kicked them off violently so Feyre could look at him again. Her eyes moved down his body with appreciation, landing on the cock in her hand.

“Do you like what you see?” Rhys asked her, nose brushing hers.

“Yes,” she replied, arching into his hands when he brought them to her breasts. “I think I like everything about you.”

Rhys could have come right then and there.

“Fair is fair, Feyre,” he whispered, kissing a path down her throat. “Take this off and let me look at you.”

Rhys’s whole life narrowed to the moment Feyre leaned up and pulled her tank top over her head. Rhys groaned at the sight of her soft, lean body and the perky breasts heaving in the dark. He could have lost himself right there, fucking himself in the sheets, face buried between them. Rhys needed to focus.

“All of it.”

Feyre arched her hips, hair falling around her beautiful face. She was taunting him, running her finger up and down the waist band while he watched her like a starving animal. Feyre ceded inches at a time, revealing hips first, and then a peak of hair she’d neatly groomed. And then the shorts were on the floor beside her top and she was in his bed.

Naked.

Rhys forgot how to speak for a second, teasing one of her nipples while he stared and stared. Committing, he realized, this moment to memory. Just in case, he reasoned. Maybe they got separated or he had to leave her somewhere to keep her safe. He wanted to be able to come to this moment in his mind and recall it with perfect clarity.

“Spread your legs for me,” Rhys ordered. Feyre slid a lazy hand down her body, resting her fingers just above her pussy. He could see her from the corner of his eye and that taunting smile as she widened her legs with that same slowness she’d employed when undressing herself.

She was driving him insane.

“Show me how you like to be touched,” Rhys demanded roughly, taking his cock into his hand while he watched.

“How about, I’ll show you how I touched myself last night while thinking of you,” she replied in a sultry voice.

Rhys groaned again. “Yeah. Show me that.”

Her fingers brushed over her clit, filling Rhys with the weirdest jealousy. He wanted to be there, could feel the phantom heat even from the space he occupied beside her. That didn’t stop him from sucking in a breath when those same fingers slid into her body, dragging the slickness of her arousal back up to her clit. Feyre exhaled shakily, knees falling wide open so Rhys could watch unimpeded.

He sat up, still pumping his cock up and down. Feyre touching herself was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. Rhys forgot what he’d meant to do, lost in the movements until his own arousal began to rise in his throat, threatening to spill all over his hand. She was going to come, too, and Rhys found the idea of not being the one to bring her to completion intolerable. She didn’t need her hands anymore—he’d do it for her, every night if she wanted.

Or, he hoped anyway.

Releasing his own cock, Rhys grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head. “That’s enough,” he growled, crawling over her body.

“I thought there were other things you wanted to do,” Feyre taunted, arching her hips so her slick pussy slid over the sensitive skin of his cock. Rhys shuddered, nearly abandoning his plan entirely to fuck her.

“Careful,” he warned before sucking roughly at her neck. “Or I’ll fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” Feyre arched into him again. “You could try…but I don’t think you’d fit,” she said, hand sliding down his stomach.

Fuck he was in love with her.

“I’m sure you’d find a way to make it work,” was all Rhys could think to say. The thought of pulling her off the bed, head dangling, was tempting. He could pull her legs up to him and lick her while she fucking her throat raw. “You’re a clever woman, Feyre.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, tugging at the strands of his hair.

“Wouldn’t I?” he replied, licking down the column of her throat. “I think you’d like the things I’d dare to do.”

“I’m a lady—”

“You’re a nightmare,” Rhys disagreed, sucking one of her nipples between his lips. “My fucking nightmare.”

She chuckled, unaware of the truth. Right then, though, Feyre was everything. Angel, devil, nightmare, daydream. There was no going back now, no reversing what had begun. As Rhys continued his slow descent down her squirming body, he was resolved in his course of action. There was nothing that would keep him from her. No cell, no grave—nothing.

Feyre was already slick with arousal, her pussy swollen and pink even in the dark. Rhys spread her apart to look, meeting her gaze from his spot between her legs.

“What about you?” Feyre whispered, grabbing him by his hair and pulling rough. Rhys’s hips ground into the mattress involuntarily, responding to the force she’d used.

“What about me?” he replied. If he had to fuck his hand in the bathroom again, that seemed reasonable enough. His cock would be wet soon enough.

“I want to taste you,” she whispered and just like that, Rhys had her halfway off the bed just like he’d imagined. There were more elegant ways to do this—ways that prioritized her pleasure, that were likely more comfortable if nothing else.

But he wanted her like this. After five years of waiting, Rhys thought he deserved to have her however he liked so long as she didn’t object. “Open your mouth, darling,” he murmured, looking down at her head hanging off the edge of the bed. She was eye level with his cock—all she had to do was open and Rhys would be inside.

“Rhys—”

“Trust me,” he murmured, vowing he wouldn’t hurt her. Not unless she asked him to, anyway. While he waited, Rhys leaned over, adjusting his weight and spreading his legs ever so slightly, so he could lick a path down her navel. “I’ll take care of you.”

He meant it literally, but he understood how she might have thought he meant in the moment. Truthfully, Rhys was too distracted by the pussy in his face to bother clarifying it for her. He could smell her and needed to taste her. For one glorious moment, Rhys forgot everything else. Gripping her by her ass to half lift her in the air, Rhys licked the length of her while Feyre gasped, pushing up so she was closer to him. Rhys licked again, forgetting he’d intended to edge her for hours.

Ah, well.

There would be other nights, he supposed. It was strange to realize he could have all the things he wanted. Or, at least have all the things he wanted with her. That was enough to convince him to keep going until she made a mess of his face.

He’d forgotten his cock until he felt her swallow it. She managed a good third before she gagged slightly and her hand began trying to make up the difference.

“Good girl,” he gasped against her leg. “You can take me.”

He was in hell—her mouth was wet and warm, a tease of what would happen when he was buried inside her. Rhys pushed a little, testing how much she could take without work. He managed about half before she slapped his thigh, teeth lightly grazing his shaft in punishment. Fine, he thought. Anything was better than nothing, truthfully, and he was grateful she let him put his cock near her face at all.

Rhys returned to his licking, desperate to get her off before he lost control of himself. He was punishingly close already and desperate to mark her in some invisible way. Like an animal, he wanted the rest of the world to know she’d been claimed and to stay away from her, regardless if it was right or not.

It was tempting to pull himself off her and demand to know where she’d learned to suck cock like that. To force her to give him a list so he could track them all down one by one and punish them for touching his wife. Rhys might have, too, had he not been so desperate to get her off. Feyre squirmed, moaning around the cock she still had buried in her throat. It was too much—Rhys couldn’t think his way out of his impending orgasm. He should have masturbated before he went to bed just to take the edge off. She was going to think he was quick.

“Feyre,” he panted against her, legs shaking with effort. Rhys redoubled his efforts, kissing and sucking until Feyre’s determined rhythm stuttered. And though his cock screamed in protest, his balls so tight he thought he might explode, Rhys kept at her until Feyre came, still gagged by his cock. She managed one suck, panting and moaning around him and that was all it took.

Rhys came down her throat, forgetting he’d intended to come on her face.

This was better, he thought, face pressed to her thigh as he bit at her flesh. Neither of them moved, still riding out the wave of pleasure rocking through them. He wanted to know how she felt—did the world seem different to her, now? It felt different to Rhys.

Carefully, he knelt beside the bed where Feyre still hung, her hair a waterfall around her. “That was…” he murmured, sitting with his back against the frame so he could kiss her cheek, “incredible.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. “Really good.”

“Stay with me tonight,” he asked impulsively. He just wanted her near. Feyre nodded, leaning up as Rhys crawled back into the bed. He swore he meant to have her again, that he was only going to close his eyes for a moment.

Rhys passed out, and when he woke, the bed was empty again. For once, Feyre had beaten him awake. Rhys didn’t mind. He took his time, showering and dressing himself while replaying the night before. Somehow he doubted that Feyre had made breakfast, but maybe he’d get lucky and she’d offer herself up to him.

Rhys made his way down the stairs where Feyre waited in another oversized t-shirt and a pair of tight leggings. She’d braided her thick hair over her shoulder again… and she was staring at his computer with those moonlit eyes he loved so much.

“Good morning, Feyre darling,” Rhys said, assuming the game was up. He should have known better than to leave his computer up and accessed so easily…but what did he care, truly, if she looked? He’d show her everything if she asked.

Feyre stood as Rhys made his way to the kitchen, pouring coffee as the hammer clicked back on a gun.

“You,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Me,” he agreed, positive she wouldn’t shoot him. Why wait, he reasoned? She could have shot him in her sleep if she’d wanted, but she hadn’t. She’d waited for him to come downstairs and explain himself and that was progress.

“You lied to me.”

Had he? Rhys couldn’t recall a time he’d been overtly dishonest. “You drew your own conclusions,” Rhys reminded her, turning as he blew steam from his mug. “I never lied to you. I told you who I was the day we met.”

“You—you let me think…” she stood, still pointing her weapon at him. “Did you kill Tamlin?”

“You asked me to, remember?”

“Because you said…oh my god…you said…”

Rhys was grinning. “He was keeping you from me.”

“So you killed him for doing his job?” she demanded.

Rhys smiled. “Oh, darling, I killed him because he touched my wife—”

“I’m not your wife!” she declared. Rhys finished his sip, setting his mug to the counter. As he walked toward her, Feyre backed up until she was pressed against a wall. She held that gun, even when Rhys took her hands in his and pressed the barrel firm against his chest.

“You are,” he replied, holding her gaze. “And if you’d come to me for help, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“I didn’t want your help,” she whispered.

“No? Did you ever think that I could have paid someone to look at your story closer? To really examine that bat? I’ve kept you out of prison, Feyre.”

“You’re the reason he’s dead in the first place.”

Rhys had to resist rolling his eyes. “Shoot me then, Feyre. Pull the trigger and end this.”

They stared at each other for a beat—long enough for her to hesitate, and longer still for Rhys to yank it from her hands before hauling her over his shoulder.

“We can unpack your shitty childhood later,” Rhys informed her as she kicked at the air. “For now, it’s time to go.”

“Go where?”

Rhys sighed with delight, thinking of his cabin and the time alone they’d have together.

“Home.”

#feysand #feysand fanfic #feyre archeron #rhysand #feyre x rhysand #that man is unwell and im not sorry about it

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