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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year

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Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family.

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy.

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things.

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?”

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice.

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner.

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar.

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ.

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots?

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you.

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you.

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why.

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor.

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony.

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception.

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too.

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated.

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you.

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed.

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered.

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff.

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot.

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question.

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people.

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy.

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress.

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced.

God, he wants to kiss you.

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention.

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you.

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look.

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them.

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride.

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom.

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne.

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.”

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights.

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back.

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you.

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room.

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling.

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again.

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him.

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers.

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile.

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him.

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine.

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between.

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him.

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust.

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high.

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better.

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense.

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.”

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute.

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room.

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket.

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom.

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom.

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming.

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake.

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely.

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words.

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you.

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute.

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint.

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

Thank you for reading! x

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x you #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x y/n #jake x lil bradshaw #my writing

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mayfieldss · 4 months

Text

Point blank - Thomas Shelby

Summary: When you are held at gunpoint by one of Tommy's many enemies, he must come to terms with his feelings.

Warnings: being held at gunpoint (obvi), blood, violence, language, suggestive content. Not spell checked at all so beware.

The cool metal against the side of your skull wasn't exactly the feeling you had hoped for as the night dragged on. You'd thought about many things, and many people that could bring you pleasure and fun, and you'd thought of a warm bed you would love to curl up in when it got too late to stay awake. But this, the gun pressed firmly to your head, had not been one of the sensations you'd hoped for.

"Call him outside," the man holding the gun shouted to a maid who had stumbled upon the scene. She'd clearly stepped out of the Shelby estate in the hopes of a smoke break, as had you, but was met with a more than shocking ordeal. Tommy's side piece, as many had called you, held at gunpoint by an angry stranger.

She ran ahead inside, and you knew Tommy would be out in a matter of minutes. This was a regular sunday for him. For you, though, it was not something you wanted to occur at all, let alone more than once.

"Mathison," Tommy calls, accent thick as a small fog accompanies his words. The night is cold, and everyone that dares speak becomes a dragon. "I doubt this is nessacary." His hands are raised in a disarming gesture, but you know Tommy well enough. In his eyes, there's concern, worry, and that does not at all ease your nerves.

"You said you'd pay me, give me the money for my family, Tommy, you promised." The man that stands behind you grips tighter to your body, your back flush to his chest as the barrel of the gun digs into your skin.

"You'll get your money in good time, I'm an honest man, Mathison, now let the lady go free." He spares a glance to you, and you can tell he wished he hadn't as soon as it happens. His eyes darken as though he won't be able to scrub the memory free of his mind. Not that you matter that much to be remembered. Not to someone like Tommy. You were just a woman he met in dark corners, after all.

"I want the money now!" The mans shout beside your ear makes you flinch, and the gun shakes in his hands. "It's been weeks, and I want what I was promised!" The man is not at all stable, and with his finger so close to the trigger, you aren't confident in your survival rate.

"Tommy, give him the money. Please." You shouldn't speak. It could earn you a number of consequences, but the fear is stronger than rational thought.

Perhaps the same goes for Tommy because you swear you see him think it over. He flexs his hand at his side, trying to stretch out the tension writhing within him. He is a man of business, not of love, and time and time again that four letter word has ruined him. But seeing you, under threat of harm, stirs a particular amount of concern.

"I don't take kindly to threats against my family. And it looks as though you may be threatening me? Am I correct?"

The man behind you doesn't say anything. His hand still shakes and his grip on you is painful, but he knows that to say yes is to mean consequence, and to say no, would be to lie to Thomas Shelby, which won't end well either.

"Right. Well, I'm having a fucking party inside, one that I would be hosting if I wasn't needed to deal to this. I think the best course of action is for you to put the gun down and leave the premises. You will get your money tomorrow, Mr Mathison." His words sound so final. You can almost believe the man that has a hold of you will listen. Perhaps he is listening because slowly, the gun isn't as close to you anymore.

The gunshot is loud, deafening, and your ears ring with the sound of it. You would have thought that was because you were bleeding out, were it not for the loud scream that fell from your lips at the same time as the sound. If you had, in fact, been shot point blank in the head, you would not have time to scream.

The man that once had a hold of you tumbles backward, and you, in shock, fall to your knees in relief, as well as an attempt to lower the chances of being hit by another stray bullet.

Your first mistake was to look back, eyes locking on the blood pooling around the now fallen mans head. You could have been in the same position just moments before.

"Look at me." Tommy's hands come to grasp the sides of your face, not giving you a choice in the matter. He's on his knees in front of you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "Are you alright?"

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut despite his order, and begin to cry. It's embarrassing to do so, but there's is no way you couldn't bring yourself to. Tommy pulls you into his chest, and despite how mad at him you are, you let him.

His heart races as the sound of the gunshot echoes in his own mind, and the feeling of your heavy breaths taken between sobs while devastating, is the most reassuring action in the moment. You're breathing, which means he's kept you safe for now.

Later that night, you are sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, still reeling from the nights events. He'd left you in order to send the party guests away and had only just returned.

"I lied before." You mumble as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm not alright."

Looking at him fills you with the deepest anger, how he can stand there, and undo his tie with hands that don't so much as quiver.

"You are a dangerous man, Thomas. I could have died tonight, all because I was foolish enough to get in your bed."

Tommy nods, and you hate the minimal response. "I wasn't going to let him shoot you."

"He could've shot me whether you let him or not!" Your voice is raising even as you don't want it to. He's too calm in the face of this, and that says all it needs to. "We're done, Tommy."

You stand to leave, ignoring the way your muscles feel, still tense even after the ordeal is over. The door is one step away by the time Tommy decides to speak again, but you're already in the hall before he can make a point.

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." He's followed you out, looking more disheveled now with his tie long gone and shirt half unbuttoned.

"Am I safe with you, Tommy? Because it doesn't feel like it." You're unable to face him, eyes locked on the staircase you so desperately want to run down.

"I can't promise peace if that's what you're askin', but I won't let anyone hurt you. Not as long as I'm alive." His hand on your shoulder is what makes you turn, and you stare him down with what courage you have left.

"Do you love me, Thomas Shelby? Because if you don't, I can't understand why I'd be worth the trouble." It's more of a dare than a question because you're sure he'll say no. And once he says it, you'll have more than enough reason to leave him and never return.

Tommy exhales harshly, and you can smell the cigarettes on his breath, mixed with whiskey from the party. It's not a unique scent among men you've met, but somehow, on Tommy, it's more of an indulgence.

"I thought you knew that already." He mutters, lips closer to yours than they were before. "But I'm sure I can clarify a few things." His hands fall to your waist, a daring gesture but one that isn't uncommon for the both of you before his lips are on yours. Your anger is forced out of you in the form of a kiss, one that is messy and desperate in a way you've only known with Tommy. His breath mixes with yours as do other elements of him, until finally you push him away.

"I'm not forcing you to say it, Thomas. But for fucks sake tell me straight. Do you or do you not love me?"

Tommy grunts in frustration, running a hand over his face. He's an honest man in his own opinion, and he wants to be honest with you, but in doing so he has to do the same for himself. That's harder than most things Tommy does for a living.

"Love is more dangerous than I am, sweetheart. And believe me, my love isn't something you want."

"Yes or no, Tommy." You've pushed back every tear within you and stand like a soldier before him, ready to march away. He clears his throat, loud in the silent hallway.

"Yes. Yes, I fucking love you. now can we please go back to bed?"

You don't answer, but simply wander past him to his room. It's dimly lit, and the sheets look more than inviting after the day you've had. You turn back to him once inside, catching his eyes on your figure.

"I love you too, Tommy."

Slowly, a smile creeps onto his lips, and his eyes cloud over with a look you know too well. "Let's go to bed."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:

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captainamericasmotercycle · 2 years

Text

married?

pairing: jake seresin x wife!reader

summary: after jake is called back to top gun for a mission, him and the dagger squad go out to the hard deck one night where javy gets absolutely hammered and lets it slip that jake has a wife. (request by @bookaholics-stuff )

warnings: talks of alcohol and being/getting drunk

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i feel like this was super rushed and might rewrite it but i hope you guys like it!!

Javy “Coyote” Machado is Jake’s best friend and someone that you have grown to know and love over the time of knowing both him and Jake. You met them both in a Navy bar years ago in Texas while out with your sister and friends.

You met them when your group left you for a couple of guys on the dance floor and you walked up to the bar, ordering straight whiskey. After hearing your order, Jake knew he was going to marry you one day and that is exactly what he did.

After much reassurance and a confidence boost from Javy, Jake was finally able to approach you and start a conversation. He introduced you to Javy and the three of you hit it off well, you had talked so long that you completely lost track of time and ended up losing your party. They offered you a ride home and after you ruled them out as serial killers, you let them take you home. You left Jake with your number and quick goodbye.

You were a doctor for the military, you would move from base to base to assist with incidents and accidents. And you just so happened to be moved to the same base where Jake and Javy were currently working. You became closer and closer with Jake and just after a couple months, the two of you started dating.

Through a year of dating, neither of you had been moved or deployed, until about the year and a half milestone of your relationship. Jake was moving bases in a couple months and you were supposed to stay. When the news broke, you were both devastated, and Jake thought of only one solution to keep you together.

A week after his transfer announcement he took you out to a scenic place and proposed to you. A little over two months later, you two were getting married. It was a small gathering on the Seresin Estate, consisting of both of your families and a couple of friends.

Javy was Jake’s Best Man and part of your wedding party, your sister was your Maid of Honor; though the wedding was small, the two of them put in so much of their time and effort to make it the best wedding you could have ever imagined. It was like a dream.

Now that you were married, you got to move simultaneously with Jake whenever he would be transferred to a different base. His most recent transfer was being called back to Top Gun Academy, so you packed up your little lives and headed out to Fightertown, USA.

You found a cute place that was a good distance from the academy, but was still on the beach. Quickly purchasing the house, the day you moved in was so exciting. A new start, freshly married, buying your first house together, and being able to work close to one another.

Jake was sent on this mission he was called back for, but then was requested to stay for a longer amount of time, possibly a long-term situation. You also learned that Javy was called back as well for the mission and that the two of them created many close bonds while training for and on the mission.

Tonight they were going out to a well-known bar, The Hard Deck.

“Baby, you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

“Jake, its a team thing, I don't want to intrude,”

“You could never,” you smile at him from the couch. Man, you are so in love with him.

“It’s alright, babe, maybe next time,”

“Whatever you say,” he grabbed his coat and made a hat tipping motion at you even though he wasn’t wearing one.

“Don't drink too much! I don’t want to have to carry your drunk ass into bed!” You yelled as he walked out the front door, receiving a thumbs up as a response.

Jake walked into the Hard Deck to see everyone already into a couple of drinks. “There he is!!” Javy slurred, Jake smiled. “Was the missus holding you up?”

Jake froze, the rest of the team doesn’t know that he’s married and hadn’t found the right time to introduce you to them yet. I guess tonight wouldn't have been the best night for you to come with him to the bar.

Jake smiled sheepishly, “No, I just wanted to eat first.” The others didn’t seem to register the information that Javy had just spilled, which Jake was grateful for. It’s not like he was trying to hide you, he just thought that explaining his marriage to a bunch of drunk people probably wouldn’t go too well.

As the night went on, the rest of the Dagger Squad drank more and more, but Jake limited himself, he knew you would not want to drive all the way down there at 11 at night to pick him up because he drank too much.

“Man, Jake, you’re not drinking as much as you usually do,” Bradley slurred.

“Right,” Javy agreed, “I remember when he drank so much at his weddin’ that he almost fell over.” After he let that slip from his mouth, he slapped his hand over it.

The team turned and all looked at him, “You’re married?”

“What?”

“Jake is married??”

The small chatter surrounded the table, until Jake finally spoke up, “Yes, I am married,” he rolled his eyes at the shocked faces of the aviators.

“I want to meet her!” Phoenix slurred, a chorus of ‘me too’s’ began throughout the table.

He rolled his eyes again, “I’ll bring her tomorrow, is that cool?”

“Yeah!”

Jake looked down at his wristwatch, “Speaking of the missus, I’ve got to get home. Promised her I’d take the dog out before we went to bed,”

“Aw, look at Jake being all domestic and house-wifey,”

Jake turned back to the table one more time, “Phoenix, I will personally shoot your plane down the next time it's in the air.” The group burst into laughter and Jake left with an eye roll and without another word.

When he left the other aviators turned to each other to make bets on what they thought you were like, though they couldn’t get anymore out of Javy. They all bet on you being just a female version of Jake, which seemed scary, but if that's what it was, then there was nothing they could do to change that.

“Bitchy and cocky?”

“Oh for sure,”

The night rolled around and the two of you were riding in Jake’s truck to the bar. The anticipation from the group only grew as time went on.

Finally you walked into the bar, holding on tightly to Jake’s hand. Javy was the first to notice

you, “There they are.” The team turned and looked in your direction, you looked so sweet? Maybe they were looking in the wrong place, but you were with Jake. There’s no way.

You walked over to the table and sat in an end chair, only Jake beside you, “This is my wife,” he introduced you to the group and you gave them a smile and a shy wave. Phoenix and Bob looked back and forth between you and Jake a couple of times before settling their eyes on you. Phoenix was the first to speak, “Blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

You giggled softly and blinked twice, Phoenix stood up and walked over to you, she grabbed your hand, you stood up next to her, “Sorry, Lieutenant, but she’s going to have to come with me for an official investigation,” she spoke to Jake.

She led you over to the bar where you sat and met Penny. Phoenix ordered you both drinks and sighed, “Man, I hope you come around more often, I’m getting tired of all the testosterone.”

Letting out a sharp laugh, you turned back to Jake and the rest of the team who were pretending not to be looking at you, Penny and Phoenix. “I plan on it, you all seem like a fun bunch, I would love to spend more time with everyone,”

Penny spoke up, “I’m glad, now I’ll finally have someone to call the next time Jake gets absolutely hammered,” she winked at you. Jake watched from afar, how you interacted with the other two women, he wondered why he didn’t introduce you to them sooner.

As the night came to an end, you had become acquainted with everyone from the Dagger Squad and had even exchanged phone numbers with Penny and Phoenix. When everyone was finally worn out, you grabbed Jake’s hand and walked out with everyone to the parking lot. After saying your last goodbye, you got into the car and laid your head back.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,”

“Is that right?” You turned to look at him and smiled.

“Yes, I actually did,” as he started down the road that led back home, you spoke again, “So, when’s the next outing?”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #hangman top gun #hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #first meetings #javy machado #natasha trace #penny top gun #payback #fanboy #dagger squad #top gun 2

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Note

For the requests: Hangman's girlfriend (also a pilot) overworking herself and passing out and he just takes care of her? There's not enough soft hangman out there

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

When you come to, you're laying on something hard. A groan falls from your chapped lips as you throw your arm over your face to shield yourself from any onlookers.

Before you even open your eyes, just between that strange blackness and the blinding sun seeping in from the windows, you remember what happened. You achingly, embarrassingly remember what happened.

You fainted. You fucking fainted like one of those ditzy girls in the movies from the 40s. You, a Lieutenant Commander and Top Gun graduate and permanent member of the Dagger Squad, fainted in front of everyone.

It's enough to make your cheeks red.

You've been a bit overworked as of late.

You're the maid of honor at your best friend's wedding and it is rapidly approaching, practically licking at your heels at this point. You're also teaching a new course at the academy that has proven to be rigorous--especially when you're in a room with 20 beta versions of Jake Seresin, who you already get enough of between base and your shared home. Additionally, Jake has been talking about the two of you moving out of your house and into something with more space. You know that he isn't just talking about space for your stuff, either. And although the prospect of sharing a life with Jake is downright butterfly-inducing, you've just got a lot on your plate.

You're spread thin. Entirely too, too thin.

You'd simply been strolling along the tarmac after a successful training simulation, listening to Bob talk about the most recent Ted Chiang book he'd just finished. You were hungry, having not had lunch yet, and you were probably a touch dehydrated, too. You'd accidentally left your water bottle at home that day and didn't care to buy any plastic bottles from the vending machine. And you hadn't slept very well on account of planning a road trip to Las Vegas for the bachelorette party after the bride had a change of heart. You'd also just pulled a solid 8-G's in your craft. No big deal, you could handle it all. You always did--Hell, it was your duty to handle it all.

Until you couldn't. It wasn't even a slow decent into it--one minute you were listening to Bob's sweet voice underneath the San Diego sun and now you're blinking up at the ceiling in the infirmary.

"Fuck me," you grumble, shaking your head.

"Not in front of Nurse Bledso, angel," you boyfriend murmurs. You know without even glancing in his direction that he's grinning at Nurse Bledso. "How you feelin'?"

You realize, suddenly, that your head isn't lying on a pillow. It's lying on his lap--that hardness beneath your head is the powerful muscle of his thigh.

You're still getting your bearings as you blink at the tiles on the ceiling and the crisp white walls and the bright lights. You feel moderately okay besides the headache pounding behind your eyes and a tender spot across the knuckles on your left hand.

But then you see Jake. He's looking down at you already, calloused fingers carefully raking through your hair. His face is very soft, eyes swimming with concern and brows knit just slightly.

"Like I fainted," you mumble, frowning.

He looks up at Nurse Bledso, who's watching the two of you from her desk, shaking her head softly.

"She's still got her wits about her, nurse," Jake says, mockingly wiping sweat from his brow. "Thank God!"

You just shake your head softly, biting your lip when he smiles down at you again.

"Did everyone see it?" You ask.

Embarrassment is what you feel most predominantly. Sure, there are still knots in your shoulders and there's still a stone sinking in your belly and you have a sheen of cold sweat over your pasty skin, but what's really bothering you is the thought of collapsing on the tarmac in front of all your fellow Navy-members.

"No," Jake says quickly, seriously. He understand you--he knows you better than anyone in the world, probably--and knows that he shouldn't chide you about this. "Promise, angel."

You sigh in relief, swallowing hard.

"Feel like my head should hurt more than it does," you say, reaching up to check for tender spots. There are none--at least not on your scalp or face. You'd assumed you were going to wake up with stitches in your face or on a little patched of shaved hair on your head. "Did it bounce off the tarmac?"

Jake's cheeks grow a bit pink as he shakes his head, continuing his soothing motion of combing your hair. He must've taken it out of your bun for you and worked all the gel out of it knowing that a tight hairdo would do very little to help your headache.

"I caught you," he says, shrugging gently.

He's a little bit embarrassed about it. It surprises you, because if your boyfriend has been anything in the years you've been together, he's been cocksure and corny. Always very sure of himself and in control, Jake loved to be chivalrous and do things like pull your chair our or open your car door--and he did it all with a mega-watt grin. But right here in the infirmary, holding your heavy head on his lap, combing your hair carefully--he feels that it's a vulnerable thing to admit to you.

Jake had been watching you from the moment your jet landed. He was always watching you--it was just something that happened naturally. He'd always listen to the comms when you were in the air, he wandered out to the tarmac when he know you'd be landing soon, and he was always angling his face towards the sky when you were soaring inside it. It wasn't an accident that he was servicing his plane as you were due to head back on base.

He knew something was wrong as you walked past him without even glancing in his direction. It was like you had tunnel vision (which you legitimately did). He wasn't a fan of the paleness of your face in comparison to the flush in your cheeks or the little stumble in your step. Already he was walking towards you, meaning to innocently ask you if you were doing okay, when you dropped like a goddamn sack of potatoes.

He didn't even realize what he was doing, his body just responding all on its own, until his knees were scraping against the concrete and he was cradling your limp form in his arms. Bob turned around just in time to see it, gaping at you and Jake.

"Jesus, Jake! Is she okay?" Bob asked worriedly, dropping his helmet on the tarmac.

Jake looked down at your parted lips and slacked brows, assessing you for any external damage. He was worried he had been just a fraction too late--that maybe your head had scraped the concrete or your face had collided too hard against his elbow. But you looked fine--well as fine as you could when you were unconscious.

He carried you to the infirmary, both his knees throbbing. He knew as soon as he felt a sticky warmth on his calves that his knees were scraped through his flightsuit. But it didn't matter to him--not when you were so entirely limp in his arms. He hated to see you so helpless.

"You caught me?" You ask quietly, knitting your brows.

He playfully pinches your nose, still being very gentle with you as he mockingly rolls his eyes.

"Is that so hard to believe, angel?"

You're at a loss for words. An overwhelming feeling is washing over you, one that is choking you up and inducing tears on your waterline and making a puddle of something sticky-sweet settle in your belly.

"No," you whisper, voice cracking. "That's not hard to believe."

If you two were alone, Jake would have no issue leaning down to kiss you. Hell, he wouldn't even mind kissing you in front of Nurse Bledso. But he knows that you care about professionalism--being a woman in the Navy, you worked hard to get the respect you should've just been given--so he refrains. But he knows--and let's face it, you know just as well--that you're in for a proper spoiling tonight. Sure, Jake would chastise you for your late lunch and for not simply sharing his water bottle, but more than anything--he was just going to thoroughly take good care of you tonight. Maybe he'd even make you take the day off tomorrow. He was heavily considering taking over your duties as maid of honor temporarily just to take the pressure off your shoulders--well, that and he knew he'd look good in that olive green dress.

"How's the knee, Lieutenant?" Nurse Bledso suddenly pipes up, glasses perched low on her nose.

Jake cringes, nose wrinkling. Thanks for that, Nurse.

You try to sit up slightly, furrowing your brows as Jake sheepishly sighs and presses you until you're lying back again.

"They're fine," he tells Nurse Bledso before looking back down at you with his eyes wide and calm. "They're fine, angel."

But it hurts you to think about Jake getting hurt. And God, you're laying on his legs right now--you're worried you're going to wound him so you start to sit up again before he carefully puts his palm in the middle of your chest and guides you back against his lap.

"But Jake," you try, but he shakes his head softly.

"M'right as rain, angel. Worried about that hand of yours, though."

As if on cue, the knuckles of your left hand are suddenly throbbing. You hesitantly bring your hand to your vision, expecting some sort of nasty gash, but it is bandaged in a pristine white wrap.

Jake carefully takes your wounded hand in his, inspecting it as if he's the one who bandaged it.

"Sorry I didn't get there in time," he mutters to you, looking down at you again.

He's truly sorrowful--your poor, sweet hand got injured. If he had just leapt forward a moment earlier then he could've collected all your limbs and saved you from any hurt at all. It makes his throat ache when he thinks about the scars that will mark your knuckles now.

But you are swooning on his lap.

"Baby, if you hadn't been there, my brain would've been mush," you reason, wrapping your fingers around his.

He sighs. He supposes you're right. Things could've gone a lot worse if he hadn't been there precisely when he had been. He loves Bob and he knows Bob loves you, but Bob was none-the-wiser as he moseyed on beside you. When it came to your safety, there was only one person in the world he trusted and it was himself.

"Don't have much faith in old Baby On Board, do you, angel?"

That has you grinning, laughter tumbling out of your dry mouth despite the throbbing in your temples.

Oh--Jake didn't know his shoulders were practically up by his ears until they relax at the sound of your laugh. You're okay. You're really okay. He knew you weren't seriously injured or sick--logically, he knew that. But carrying your limp form across base and having to let the nurse take over had proven to be more difficult than he cared to admit. He loved you more than anyone--anything, really--in the universe. The thought of something as simple as dehydration and stress hurting you the point of serious harm was making his head hurt.

"You sure your knees are okay, baby?" You ask this softly, concern written all over your features as your laughter dies off and your smile fades. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

He shakes his head at once, his heart sitting in his throat. Here you are in the infirmary and you're asking how he is. It's laughable, really--but it's so you. And he loves you so much.

"Gonna take a lot more to take me down than some silly old scabs, angel," he sighs, carefully kissing each of your wounded knuckles over the thin cotton wrap. "Hell, I'd break both my knees to catch you."

You want to roll your eyes--but you can't. You know he's telling the truth. He'd do anything in the world to hold you safely in his arms.

He's surprised when you lean up to kiss him. It isn't a steamy kiss, isn't one that would lead to anything more. It's a chaste and sweet thing, your hand resting on his cheek, your lips dry. But it makes him giddy anyway.

"Gonna make me start calling you a hero now?" You tease, affectionately swiping your thumb across his cheek.

He grins, chuckling.

"Now? You weren't calling me one before?"

There's that laugh of yours again--it's enough to make Jake release a breath that's been sitting in the middle of his chest since the two of you came into the infirmary.

"Someone's gotta deflate that ego," you tease, resting your cheek against his thigh.

He's still combing his fingers through your hair. And as he's gazing down at you, all the upset of the day fades. You're okay. You're here in his lap, teasing him, kissing him. He caught you. He caught you.

here is my tag list!!

𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬! 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐛!

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

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darkbluekies · 1 year

Text

Family life with the yandere OC's

A/N: a few of you have asked about having kids with the yanderes or already having kids when meeting them etc, so I figured I'll give my view on how they'd handle a family with you :)

Warnings: drugging, neglect, isolation, guns, threatening of beating up fifth graders,

Silas:

Things will change once you have kids. Oh, they’ll really change. For the better? Of course not. He’ll grow even more protective and possessive over you and your children. I can see him with three daughters of different ages. He’ll move from his two story house to a bigger one out in the countryside so you and your child can grow up far away from the city’s polluting atmosphere. He wants to be able to ‘taint’ his children himself, no one else. After all … if your kids start to talk about your home life at school … maybe someone will try to take them and you away from him.

As a father, Silas will be the ultimate deal. He'll be loving, playful and protective. He will give your daughters whatever they desire. All he wants is to see them happy. They will go to school under fake names to make sure that none of his enemies can find them. You better get ready for hell if someone (even from school) dares to hurt your daughters because Silas will do everything in his power to get rid of the ones that have the nerve.

"Daddy's home! Hi, my beautiful girls, i've missed you so, so much! Have you been good girls while daddy's been gone? Wonderful. Where's Y/N? Upstairs? Thank you. I have to go hug them too."

Dr Kry:

Once you find out that you'll have twin girls, Dr Kry is quick to turn off the poisoned air purifier. He can't risk that anything happens to you or your kids. He'll move you from the hospital to his house in the woods. He wants his kids to grow up near nature, to care about the earth and its inhabitants. It's a perfect place too, there's no one around.

As a father, Dr Kry is strict and a bit harsh. He wants both his daughters to succeed and not be compared to one another. He will read for the family in front of your fireplace in the evenings and teach your kids things about the world. As much as he'd like to homeschool your twins, he can't do everything at the same time. He'll let them go to a private school that shares his beliefs and tutor them a bit on the side. He will support your kids in any way they need to affirm that they'll succeed in life.

He won't keep them sick, like he does with you … unless they figure out what he's done to you. He's done his best to indoctrinate your twins, but if his smart genes have passed on to them … then he'll have no other choice.

"Sweetpea, don't look at me like that. I have to do that! They know about what happened at the hospital. They know everything. They're smarter than I thought. Of course I love them! That's why I'm doing this! They're safe this way. If I can't create a world for them, then they'll have to stay home. They have each other, Y/N, they're okay. I will do anything to protect my family."

King Edmund:

He’ll be joyful. Maybe not too much about having a kid … but because that part is over now. He won’t have to worry about not getting an heir. The castle will get more guards now that there’s a baby coming. Every corner will be baby proofed and every staircase will be watched. Every window will be locked and every door blocked off. You’ll have maids surrounding you everytime Edmund’s not close. He won’t risk a. single. damn. thing.

As a father, Edmund’s absent and strict. He expects his son to be a worthy heir and continue his legacy. If he doesn't, he'll be more than disappointed. He'll watch you play with him from afar with a smile on his face. Deep inside he really loves the child, but there's so much more on his shoulders than just raising a kid. He has to teach him so, so much. He can't be a failure.

He'll teach his son to protect you when he's gone. And your son will do everything to impress his father. If you thought that Edmund was suffocating, you haven't seen his offspring.

"Why that look, my dear? Our son wasn't letting you leave the room? He threatened a guard? Oh my … sounds like it's my kid afterall. I'm proud of him. Now I know you'll be in good hands when I'm gone."

Jerry:

To be honest, Jerry doesn't want kids, but if she had one, it'd be a daughter. She knows she'll mess them up, she won't be a good mother. She's terrified of giving birth and hates toddlers. It'd be better if you already had a daughter / sister before Jerry laid her eyes on you. Wherever the child comes from, Jerry will take care of it her way. She'll teach her to protect herself and to fight. You'll notice that Jerry will be softer with her and do whatever the little girl wants. Bake a cake? Go shopping? Beat up some fifth graders? Jerry will bring her baseball bat.

Jerry will be more of a big sister / aunt, then a mother. She will move with you and the little girl to a new house to give all of you some more space. She will have her men watching the house at all times. You want to leave her, knowing that she's not good for the little girl, but the little girl seems so happy. She really thinks that Jerry is cool. Jerry will never let the two of you leave, she's never been this happy.

"Hi, baby boy/girl, how's it going? You're mad because you can't leave the house? Well, duh, it's for your safety. By the way, I brought our little girl to the shooting range. She needs to learn how to use a gun. What? No, I'm not making her into a mini-me! I'm creating a strong woman, like me. There's a difference. Now come over here with your cute, little body."

Hedwig:

Hedwig will live a traditional rich home life. Two kids, a boy and a girl, nannies, maids, chefs, everything. The four of you will have moved to another house that her family owns. The kids will go to expensive private schools and get taught by the best of the best. Hedwig will spoil them, just like she was. You'll not get to have a job and will stay home with Hedwig. She wants you to 'go full on out on your hobbies'. The only time you're allowed outside is when Hedwig’s with you. Never alone, especially never alone with the kids. You could run away with them.

As a mother, Hedwig will be present and understanding. She will stay home for the most time and will always be available. She has assistants for a reason. She'll listen to all of your kids' problems and stand up for them, even if they're at fault. Her kids can't do anything wrong. If they act spoiled and ungrateful, however … she will cut off all allowance until they understand how lucky they are. You'll do a lot of trips and go on a lot of vacations. Your kids will have a lot of freedom, but you will be wrapped around Hedwig’s expensive finger.

"Ah, they got in trouble in school again. I have to go get them. Some kid accused our son of throwing a ball in their face. I don't think our little boy could ever do that. No, sweetheart, please stay at home. I will take care of this. You shouldn't lift a finger. I love you, stay here. When i come home we can watch a movie, okay? Perfect!"

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere ocs #female yandere #yandere doctor #yandere king #yandere au #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #yandere parents #yandere scenarios #the younger generation

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shadowlali · 2 months

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gold chains in the dark

COD AU - Alejandro Vargas x burglar!fem!reader

[18+] wc: ~2.6k summary: Your heist is interrupted by a Vaquero. masterlist

warnings: NSFW, not canon, some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, violence/murder, reader getting aroused while stealing, reader and Alejandro know each other, thigh humping, fingering, somewhat public sex, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: *Takes place during the 11th mission titled “El Sin Nombre” in COD MW II, where Alejandro is wearing a mask and poses as one of El Sin Nombre’s men throughout the mission. He enters Diego Salgado’s mansion, who is one of Valeria’s lugartenientes [lieutenants]. According to the COD fandom wiki page, there is a safe you can open while in Diego’s home.

For @glitterypirateduck writing challenge “Amor a Alejandro!” I used prompt 29. You should be more careful. Inspired by @ghostofthemost141 who gave me the idea to write a fic about Alejandro in a mask. Title is inspired by the song "Chulo pt.2" and also @warningofeve who a while back said this song is perfect for Alejandro🤍

“Invitation?”

You pretend to look through your small clutch, knowing you have nothing in there except lipgloss and gum. “It looks like I don’t have it,” you whine, lifting your voice an octave, “oh no! I’ve spent all this time getting ready and I forgot the invitation.”

You do a small twirl in front of the security guard, watching as his eyes move appreciatively down your body.

“Well,” he says, getting closer to place a hand on your waist, “maybe there’s something I could do–”

He doesn’t notice the small knife in your palm, doesn’t register the moment it slashes through the air and pierces his neck. He gurgles, reaching for the gun strapped to his chest, but by then it's too late. Life slowly drains from his eyes as you wipe your knife clean on his clothes and drag his body to hide right by the bushes. You scan the area, making sure the coast is clear before opening the gate and slipping inside.

Another security guard waits by the door, but motions you in after he pats you down for any hidden weapons. The knife, now inside your purse, hides behind a secret pouch. A waiter by the door hands you a simple black masquerade mask that matches the ones worn by other women at the party. The men, including the security guards, wear full balaclavas.

You walk around, noticing how nervous the men seem. Their hands twitch at their sides, reaching for a weapon that isn’t there. And it’s obvious why they’re nervous. Las Almas is currently at war, and El Sin Nombre wants to know who they’re fighting against. But, you’re not here for that.

One of El Sin Nombre’s lugartenientes has a fascination with expensive jewels. The moment you found out the meeting would be held at his mansion, you created a plan to come in and take them. You were able to find the architect who built this house and were able to steal the plans from his office.

After tailing one of his maids and making small talk with her at a grocery store, you innocently asked if she had any tips on how to clean jewelry. She was so nice, giving you tips on how she cleans her boss’ prized possessions. She talked and talked, even telling you where he stores them.

The ones he wears everyday are kept in his dresser while the ones he treasures the most are kept in a safe. The moment she gave you that information, she immediately regretted it, looking sheepish and walking away, realizing she had given unnecessary information to a stranger. There’s a few obvious places you need to check, like the bedroom and office, to see where his safe is.

You grab a flute of champagne and walk around the lower floor, taking in the guests and discreetly checking for ways to get to the top floors. Most of the stairs are blocked off by security guards. Even the outside courtyard is being monitored. You continue to walk around the courtyard and quickly down the rest of the champagne once you notice an opportunity.

By a miracle, two guards seem to be preoccupied with a guest. They begin pushing him around as he demands to speak to El Sin Nombre and you take the opportunity to slip past them and through the courtyard doors. It leads to a smaller courtyard, complete with a fountain and small garden. There’s a balcony that overlooks, and right underneath is a cement block that you use to hoist yourself up and inside.

You manage to enter through the open balcony doors into what looks like an upstairs bar. It’s dark, only the light from the hallway providing some illumination for the room. You slide against the walls and listen for any footsteps. The click of your heels are softened by the carpet of the room, but the rest of the house has tile.

A guard walks through the hallway, shining a flashlight into the open rooms. You press yourself to the wall, feeling your heart race. The thrill of the heists always exhilarates you. Heat shoots directly to your core as you quietly make your way through the second floor. Especially now, with how anxious everyone is and how much security they have, you welcome the challenge.

Diego can be seen through the window of a small room, praying at an ofrenda. A guard stands by the doors until the two of them leave to the elevator. Once the woosh of the elevator resonates through the quiet hallway, you make your way into the room.

How cliche, you think, moving a medium-sized picture frame to reveal the safe hidden behind it. You work quickly, turning the knob around and around, until at last, you hear a soft click. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, gold chains–millions of dollars worth of jewels all in this little safe.

The smile on your face is wide as you quickly take out a folded-up, velvet pouch from your clutch to stuff as much as you can inside. If you exit the same way you came in, you should be able to escape before anyone catches you. With the jewelry secured, you exit the room and start walking back to the bar.

Your panties are wet and the tips of your breasts are hard as they rub against your dress. With how perfect this score is going, you’ll be able to keep some of the pieces and sell the others, making a small fortune for yourself. Thank God I remembered to charge my toy–

Just as you turn the corner into the bar, a hand shoots out and wraps around your mouth, silencing you. It happens way too fast that you’re not able to strike or even reach for the knife in your purse.

“Shhh, relájate.” [relax]

You know that voice, crave that voice. Of course Alejandro is here, you think. He slides his hand away from your mouth and pushes you until your back is pressed to the wall. His face is covered in a balaclava, but you immediately recognize his signature cologne. A jolt of excitement goes up your spine as he removes the mask from your face.

“Are you here to stop me?” you ask Alejandro, placing a hand on his chest.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop stealing, nena?”

You roll your eyes playfully, tugging on his tie. “Why would I listen to you? And why are you dressed like that?”

Alejandro looks down at his suit, which is the same as the security guards. “I’m supposed to be undercover. But imagine my surprise when I see you, slipping past the guards and climbing up a balcony. Tell me,” he says, grabbing the velvet bag from your hands, “is this necessary?”

“A girl’s gotta eat.”

He tsks, bringing his body closer to yours and pressing his erection against your lower belly. “How can I work, how can I stay focused when you’re running around in this little dress?”

You whimper, feeling his thigh push between your legs and press right on your dripping pussy. “You like my dress?”

The bags drop to the floor with a soft thud as Alejandro grips your waist, rocking you into his thigh. You bring your hands up and pull the mask just above the tip of his nose so you can mold your mouth to his. You moan into the kiss, tasting whiskey on his tongue.

His hand drags your dress up and over your hips, exposing the scrap of lace panties. You tug on his tie until it loosens and unbutton the first few buttons on his dress shirt. Even in the almost darkness, you can see the glitter of a familiar gold chain around his neck.

You touch it with light fingertips and rock faster on the hard muscle of his thigh. “You still wear the chain I gave you, Alejandro?”

He ignores your question and presses open mouthed kisses to your neck. “You should be more careful. I was able to catch you quickly.”

“Yeah, but–oh, oh–” you stammer, feeling Alejandro’s fingers slip through your panties, “you always catch me. Don’t you, baby?”

I always catch you, Alejandro murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again. He curves two thick fingers inside of you, gently thrusting them, opening you up. You stifle a moan and bring a hand up to cover your mouth. The last thing you want is for your fun to get rudely interrupted by one of El Sin Nombre’s men.

You bounce on his fingers as he slides deeper with the help of your dripping arousal. That’s it, mami, he whispers, plunging them faster, my pretty little thief. Maybe it’s because you’ve been slick with excitement since the moment you got here, or maybe it’s because Alejandro is so good with his fingers, that you cum right into the palm of his large hand. The orgasm hits you with such intensity that you shake in his hold, a few whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Shh, hermosa,” he coos, “you don’t want them to find us right?”

You let out another whimper and clench around his fingers in the last moments of your orgasm. You’re not quite sure what drew you to this life. The money? The jewels? Every single aspect of it excites you, especially the danger that comes with this line of work. Alejandro removes his fingers slowly and with a snap, he rips off your panties.

“Hey–”

“You can afford to buy new ones,” he interrupts. He takes a step back to wipe his fingers on your now ripped panties then stuffs them in his pocket. “I’m going to help you escape but you need to promise me–”

“Wait, wait,” you whisper, reaching for him, “what about you? Come on, Alejandro. Live a little.”

He lets you bring him in closer, shaking his head but not stopping you from undoing his belt buckle. You grab his cock and give it a few pumps, swiping your thumb over the precum that drips from his tip. Alejandro wraps your leg around his waist and moves your hand to position himself at your slick entrance.

“Quédate callada,” he orders. [Keep quiet]

You nod quickly, wanting him inside of you. Just as he thrusts in, you hear the ding of the elevator. Someone is on the second floor. You deflate, knowing that Alejandro will stop and lead you out through the balcony doors, since now the two of you are about to be interrupted. He’s not the type to take these kinds of risks–but, he surprises you. Alejandro keeps going, rocking a little faster into you.

Voices approach slowly from the hallway. You pray they don’t enter the bar, not when Alejandro keeps bumping into that perfect spongy spot inside of you. His fingers make delicious indents on your thigh from how hard he grabs you. You don’t trust yourself to not make noise so you press your mouth to his, allowing him to swallow your moans.

“Looks like the door to the ofrenda is open,” one of the guards says, “let's check it out.”

“Naughty girl,” Alejandro whispers, “did you not clean up your mess?”

You want to answer, want to tell Alejandro that of course you didn’t leave any prints behind and of course you put everything back where it was found. You just forgot to close the door in your excitement. But you don’t say anything, more focused on how deep Alejandro gets with each stroke.

“Everything looks good, let's keep going,” the other guard says.

Alejandro fucks you a little harder into the wall, moving a hand to swipe at your clit. You hear the footsteps approaching and wonder, even in your aroused hazed, what changed in Alejandro. In the few times he’s caught you, he’ll bring you to his Jeep or back to his home if you let him. But never has he been so animalistic in his need to fuck you in one of the places you’re stealing from.

“You like this–don’t you?” Alejandro whispers, “You like h–how crazy I get for you?”

Your nails dig into his large biceps for support and you squeeze your pussy tighter around him. He snakes his hand under your knee, pushing up to spread you further. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the flashlights approaching.

You feel the familiar licks of heat at the base of your spine. You’re so, so, so close to cumming again. Each slide of his thick cock stretches you to your limit, causing your pussy to flutter and gush around him. You press your nose to his neck and inhale. He smells yummy like Baccarat Rouge 540 and salty sweat. The guards pause at the entryway of the bar, shining their flashlights.

“Did you hear that?” one of them asks.

Alejandro slows his thrusts, gathering more of your slick on his thumb to rub over your swollen bud. He can’t be fucking serious, you think to yourself, sinking your teeth hard in his bottom lip.

“The balcony is open, must be noise from outside.”

You rock back and forth on his cock, uncaring that the guard takes a step inside. His eyes pass over the room, barely missing the two of you.

“Sí, tienes razón. Let’s go to the third floor.” [you’re right]

The moment Alejandro hears them ascend the stairs, he slides out and plunges back in. He sets a jackhammer pace, reminding you to keep quiet, nena, even though it feels like he’s splitting you in two. One more swipe of his thumb and you’re twitching in his arms, falling into the abyss as an orgasm washes over you.

It’s warm and mind-numbing, thrilling, and so incredibly risky. Alejandro is barely able to stifle his groan as his thrusts become clumsy and he spills inside of you. You constrict and squeeze tightly around his length, milking every last drop from his cock.

He’s so strong, holding the both of you up while you catch your breath. Alejandro slowly pulls out, whimpering slightly from the sensitivity. He has you stay pressed on the wall while he grabs napkins to clean you up. Once he makes sure you’re okay, he fixes his clothes and grabs your purse and the velvet bag from the floor.

“¿Estás bien?” he asks, wiping the sweat away from your collarbones. “Think you can jump down from the balcony? Or do you want to try the elevator?” [Are you okay?]

“N–no, I can do it.”

You stumble slightly but right yourself, gripping your possessions tightly. You climb down from the balcony on unsteady feet, feeling the breeze on your now exposed bottom. The small courtyard is still empty, luckily, and you see a side door that leads to the exit from the house.

Alejandro drops down beside you, looking normal and as if he didn’t just rearrange your insides not even five minutes ago. “Be careful, okay? Text me when you get home. No puedo irme–” [I can’t leave–]

You reach up a hand to caress his covered face. “I know, you have work to do. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

After one more kiss on his cheek, you turn and jog towards the side door and open it. You take a look around and find no one at the front of the house. You look back, lifting your hand to wave at Alejandro, and leave. It takes a little longer to find your car, as your thighs feel sore and the bag you’re carrying is heavy.

You knew your score would go well, you just didn’t think it would go this well. You keep your promise to Alejandro. The moment you get safely home you strip out of your dress and put on one of the ruby necklaces. You snap a photo of yourself, the necklace and your peaked nipples perfectly in frame. It only takes thirty seconds for Alejandro to respond.

You: [Image sent]

home :)

11:56 P.M.

Alejandro: Hermosa. My pretty little thief. Stay out of trouble, okay?

11:56 P.M.

Absolutely no promises.

Title inspired by the song "Chulo pt.2" by Bad Gyal, Tokischa, and Young Miko.

#Amor a Alejandro #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

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uglypastels · 9 months

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Not Wholly Evil |X| pirate!Eddie au

a/n here it is. the final chapter. I am so excited to share it with you all, just as much as it pains me that it actually is coming to an end. I've worked on this story for almost a year, and it had been a risk I had no idea how it would play out, but seeing how much everyone has enjoyed this story and supported me in my little experiment really made all the days I say in front of my computer screaming worth it <3 thank you all so so much for trusting the process

Series Masterlist

word count: 14.3k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences. hanging. men are pigs: implied mentions of past abusive experiences [of background characters]. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. prison. capital punishment.

there will be several mentions of other ST characters in this chapter, and some instances might not be the most favourable of portrayals, but this is not to indicate my opinion on them. I am simply intertwining universes. there is also a name spelled differently than in the shows and that's just for the sake of the setting.

Chapter 10: Lock and Key

“Some pirates achieved immortality by great deeds of cruelty or derring-do. Some achieved immortality by amassing great wealth. But the captain had long ago decided that he would, on the whole, prefer to achieve immortality by not dying.” ― Terry Pratchett, The Color of Magic

Everything went into chaos, happening so quickly that you genuinely got the sensation of being frozen in time and space, just letting everything around you go by, unable to intervene. Your mind could not work at that speed to understand everything that was happening, too far down into a shock to catch up. But when you finally did, you screamed.

‘No, father, no.’ You tried to push yourself away from him, but his grip was too firm. Even if you had, the chances of getting past the barricade of armed bodies to Eddie was impossible. ‘You can’t do that!’ you trashed around in his arms like a wild fish out of water.

All your father did was pull you closer, further away from Eddie, who you could just make out from between the uniforms and bayonets. The glimpses you got of his face showed a stoic expression. He wasn’t even trying to fight it. The last thing you saw before you were turned around and practically handed over to someone was the chains on his wrists.

‘Take her away from here,’ your father told his closest guard, ‘she’s hysteric.’ And perhaps you were, as you kept screaming at them to let go of you. The pleas quieted down the further from the harbour you got, changing into silent sobs by the time you reached the gardens of your home.

‘It’s alright, miss,’ the guard tried to calm you as best as possible. ‘You’re safe now.’

The pearly white building towered over you as you entered its shadows, and as soon as you did, you saw almost the entirety of the house staff standing in the main hall, awaiting you. Their faces blurred with their welcoming greetings and sweet words of comfort. A woman took you from the guard, immediately guiding you up the stairs, mumbling something to him and shouting about to the rest of the people around. You could not place any name to her face, and having always been quite good with remembering people, you could only assume she had been a new addition to the staff since you had last been home. Looking over everyone around you, most of them must have been.

That’s right. Your father had always been keen on replacing the staff but usually had been around to witness it, take in the new batch from the beginning, and, most importantly, say goodbye to the old ones.

You wanted to protest at every corner you turned up to your room, but the group of maids that had accumulated around you was like a forcefield, unbreakable. One of them opened the large double doors that led to your room. There was barely any time for you to sink in the feeling of being back in it after so many weeks as you were pushed through another pair of doors. There, a bath had already been prepared, the water steaming hot. You let yourself be dragged to the centre of the room and mechanically put your arms up for the ladies to take your dress off. Had they always been this rough?

They mumbled about the state of your dress to one another as if you weren’t even there, and in their defence, you weren’t. Your mind was miles away, barely aware of what was going on. The only thing that pulled you back into the room was the gasp of the women as your dress fell to the floor. You looked down at where all their eyes had locked in on.

‘Did they do this to you, miss?’ One of them asked, pointing in fear at the scar on your ribs. It had gotten much smaller over the weeks, but compared to the rest of you, you could imagine how grotesque it might look to people like them.

‘Uhm, no,’ you mumbled, ‘I tripped. On our ship.’ You barely recognised your voice as you spoke, too tired to put any emotion into them. The women looked at each other hesitantly before continuing on with their tasks.

You just about felt the hot water burn as they got you into the bath or poured it over your head to wash your hair. The scrub of the cloths over your limbs did practically nothing. All you could do was stare out ahead of you at the hawk engraved into the wood panelling on the wall across from you and how you had always seen it as a sign of comfort but now noticed how angry its eye looked. Staring directly at you at all times. You lulled your head slowly, trying to get it to look away, but it just followed you around until someone grabbed you by the side to stop you from twisting.

‘Sorry, miss. Just trying to get out this knot.’ One of them said as she combed out your hair, tugging your entire head back against the edge of the bath.

You had not even realised how much grime came with being on a boat full of pirates for weeks. Even though you had tried to wash yourself regularly, there was never enough fresh water. By the time the ladies were done, the water had gone cold, and your whole body was red and sore from the scrubbing. You could barely feel your fingertips, but your nails were perfect again.

Trembling, you got out of the bath and quickly were wrapped up in linen to soak up the water. Like any other day, they began to put your undergarments on, preparing you for a dress that you could not even think about the weight of, but no matter how many layers they put on you, you were still shivering.

Someone, you had no idea who, pulled a blanket over your shoulders and put a large cup of lemon tea into your hands. It used to be your favourite, but the sips tasted bitter no matter how much sugar you poured. You stood in the middle of the room, holding the cup and felt all their eyes on you, drinking your tea with a shaky hand. No matter how you held it or steadied your arms, the porcelain clinked together louder and louder until it smashed onto the ground, the hot liquid pooling around you. Before you could apologise, someone was on their knees cleaning it up.

‘I am so sorry,’ you cried out, tears already threatening to return despite it being only a few minutes since they had dried up. With water pouring over your face and hair in the bath, the tears would have been washed away, but now there was nowhere to hide them.

‘No worries, miss,’ one of the maids said. She looked you up and down, a corset in her hands, clearly seeing a mess of a woman in front of her. ‘We should get you ready; there is a meal waiting downstairs and I am sure you’re famished.’

‘I am alright, I just want to—’ you wanted to disappear. Get out of everyone’s sight. You wanted to lock yourself in your room or run away, just be anywhere but here, surrounded by these strangers. You wanted Eddie. Where was he now? He must have been dragged into the dungeons.

You pushed back the next load of tears that were breaking through.

‘Miss, we must insist.’ The maid said, somewhat concerned, and hesitated. ‘The food will do you good.’ And yet, the idea of eating now made you feel quite ill to the stomach.

‘I would really just like to be alone now.’ If you had more energy, your statement might have come out more pointed, giving you more edge over the staff. You would have fought them until you’d slam the door behind the last one, but instead, you let yourself be trapped into a dress—a beautiful green garment that the women were not shy to praise as they put it on you—and sent you off to the dining room.

Once, you would have walked these halls alone, with your head held high and letting the steps of your heels announce your presence in any room, but now the clicking against the marble floors made you wince and the presence of the maids and guards following you certainly did not help to put your mind at rest.

The dining table was set, filled from one end to the other with dishes, but you could barely stomach a spoonful. The same happened at dinner. You could not think of eating these extensive meals knowing that Eddie was kept locked up somewhere, most likely not given anything to eat since he had been arrested. Your mind was whirring with ideas, but each and everyone was immediately halted when you saw that there was nowhere in the house you could go without onlookers. The chances of you being allowed into the dungeons and speaking to him were close to zero.

Having eaten exactly two bites from your plate, you excused yourself back to your room, where people were ready to get you out of your dress and into your nightgown. Once done, one of the maids was prepared to blow all the candles out, but you quickly stopped her.

‘Wait,’ you called, ‘could you leave one on, please.’

The woman nodded and left one of the candles in the holder burning before leaving the room. You sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to catch your breath, but the room felt so stuffy—a ridiculous thought considering the room was bigger than Eddie’s quarters, possibly the double of it. The candle only gave light to its nearest surroundings, letting the rest of the space, and you with it, be eaten up by the night. It was overwhelming, together with the hot air swallowing you whole. As your chest tightened, you ran to the window, pushing it open. You greeted the cool night air with a sigh.

Nights at home were never quiet, but unlike in Saint Claire, it was not drunken brawls that kept the shores alive but the rustle of waves and the chirping cicadas. The streets buzzed with the sounds of nature, illuminated in silver by the moon, now an almost complete sphere.

You had always loved the view of your room, but now it felt more like a cruel joke as you could look out at the harbour and the gates of Star Port. It was like a million pinpricks stabbing into you. The Hellfire was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t expect anything less. With Eddie arrested, it would have been mad of the crew to stay behind, risking their own capture.

Still, the feeling you got at the sight of the empty harbour sank deep into your stomach, not helping with how you had felt before opening the blinds, and when you closed them again, the room seemed to have grown in size. Large, cold, empty, with you standing in the middle staring at your bed. Sitting on it, let alone sleeping, was impossible. The second you touched the mattress, you were scared you’d sink straight through the cotton, and the sheer size of it…

You lay there for hours, deciding whether to curl up and make yourself as small as possible or to spread your arms out in a poor attempt at taking up some of the space meant only for you. Every time you moved, your hand would grab for the sheets, hoping that one of those times, you would feel more than air. If you opened your eyes, you would see him sleeping peacefully by your side.

Most of your pillows had met the ground as you threw them in frustration. You had spent years in this bed, perfectly fine, and only several days with Eddie. So, why were you feeling this profound loss over his absence besides you? It wasn’t fair.

Eventually, you managed to fall to sleep, quite literally, as pure exhaustion tipped you over and made your head finally hit down. There were no dreams, nightmares or memories to haunt you, as you were awoken before any of them could take shape. Firm knocks on the door announced your maids, and they filled the room in their designated corners.

‘Good morning, miss.’ They said chirpily as they got you dressed and ready for another day. All you replied with throughout the entire process was a mumbled ‘’morning,’ which you hoped could be blamed for having only been awake for a few minutes.

‘Breakfast will be served soon,’ you heard. The mention of food again twisted at your guts, but an idea began to bloom in your mind.

‘Will my father be there?’ He seldom dined with you, leaving you to eat your meals in the company of the staff, but you assumed he would want to see you after all these weeks.

‘I assume so,’ the woman brushing your hair said. You nodded curtly, as much as possible, when someone held on to your head. The prospect of speaking to your father face to face brought a new energy into your step.

You walked out of that room determined and with your head held high, only to be disturbed by footsteps parallel to yours. Two pairs. At first, you thought it was a coincidence, and they just happened to be walking there, too, but they followed you down the hallway, around all the corners. By the time you reached the dining room doors, you had grown tired of it.

‘I am quite capable of walking on my own, thank you,’ you said, coming to an abrupt stop, making the two men behind you ‘have done it all my life, in fact.’

‘Yes, of course, miss,’ said one of the guards who you bumped into at your sudden halt. ‘It is just—’

‘Just what?’ You crossed your arms.

‘Well, your father—’ he stopped speaking at the sight of your unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the confrontation. ‘We are here to protect you.’

‘From what exactly?’ This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

‘From any danger, miss.’

‘I was not aware this house was so full of threats.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘I appreciate the efforts, gentlemen, but I doubt you will be needed.’

‘But your father, miss.’ The other man tried to argue, but you were not having any of it.

‘I will not be patrolled in my own home!’ You shouted, pushing the doors to the dining room open. Your father sat at the opposite end of the large table, fork mid-air to his mouth. ‘Father, this is absurd.’

‘I think it is perfectly reasonable to want to protect my daughter. What is absurd,’ much to your annoyance, he spoke in his usual collected and cool-toned manner. He waited to continue speaking until you sat at the table. ‘Is you being held hostage for weeks at the hands of some barbarians.’

‘They are not barbarians, Father,’ you ignored the hands that spooned food onto your plate. ‘They took rather good care of me, actually.’ You bit your cheek, trying not to think of the days you spent in a cage. But even considering that, you were aware of your fortune with the circumstances you had been put under. Many more people had encountered enemies at sea, and few had been able to return home and live to tell the tale… or the preferred version of events, at least.

‘Is that why you look so sick and frail?’ he spoke bluntly, taking you back. ‘Because of how well they treated you?’

‘They did their best with what they had,’ you believed. It was your choice to starve yourself for the first days on board, refusing to eat anything they gave you. And you could hardly expect a feast such as you held in front of you now, every day in the middle of the deep waters. Even on board the Red Tail, the meals had been somewhat shoddy. ‘I just do not think that…’ you stopped yourself from using his name. ‘That man deserves to be in prison.’

‘Of course not.’ Your father took a bite. ‘He will be hanged for his crimes.’

‘W-what?’ Your fork clattered onto the ground. ‘Father, you cannot— I know he had tried to take money from you but—’ Murder and high treason. That is what he was arrested for. Had your father somehow found out about the Red Tail? But how could he… there were no survivors.

No survivors. He killed them all. He had—

‘Do you know who that man is?’ Something in your father’s voice sounded sharper, more pointed.

‘I thought so,’ you hesitated. Yes, you had spent your days and most tender moments with him, but what did you know about Eddie Munson?

‘Then you should understand the severity of this situation.’ Only if you were to believe hearsay and talk of the people on the streets that shaped this image of a blood-thirsty monster that roamed the seven seas, killing everything in his path. It is what you believed him to be yourself until not very long ago until practically every fibre in your body had been proven wrong.

Or at least, God, you hoped you had been wrong.

Your father sighed, ‘I know it is difficult, after all you must have spent a lot of time with them on that ship, and I do not know what lies they had fed you, but these are serious matters that begun long before any of this and need to finally be taken care of.’

‘Well, explain it to me because I would like to know what is happening.’

At this, he scoffed. ‘All you need to know is that man is a dangerous criminal and should be treated as such.’ But then, what about everything Eddie had told you? What about all the pieces you had managed to gather of the crumbs he and everyone else left you? There was more to it all, and maybe you did not understand yet, but you would.

‘When?’ you plucked at your food on the plate, defeated, ‘when is the hanging?’

‘In four days.’ If you had been well enough to eat, you would have choked. You had barely come to terms with returning home, if at all, and now this. Prisoners were usually held for weeks before a date was set for an execution. They were clearly adamant about taking care of him quickly.

For the sake of everyone else, you ate a bit of your breakfast, each bite sticking uncomfortably heavy in your throat. After that, you got up without saying another word. The two guards who had walked in with you were on high alert again, ready to follow you, but stopped to look nervously at the governor when you glared at them.

‘Let her go,’ he waved them off, ‘but keep an eye on her.’

You huffed out a breath and walked away.

The rest of the day you spent walking around the town, mainly the alley of the market that led to one of the entrances to the dungeons. You had no idea why you were there, considering there was nothing you could do. Besides the fact you could clearly see the new set of guards appointed to follow you around the streets, they seemed utterly futile, considering all eyes in the street were on you. Every person there was highly aware of your presence.

You used to walk around the market nearly daily, making polite chats with the salesmen as you bought fresh fruit to later eat at the shore or in the garden. Most people knew that you had decided to join the Red Tail on their voyage primarily because of your enthusiasm to finally leave the island and go on an adventure.

It must have taken quite some time, they would say in some form or another, to convince your father.

I can be quite persuasive when I have to be; you remember how proud you had felt. After months of begging everyone around you to let you go, promising them that you would be safe and careful and not get in the way of anyone, finally, they let you go. Under Admiral Carver’s watch, you spent weeks enjoying the breeze and the waves, awaiting what the rest of the world would bring.

The ship sailed for four weeks to another naval post. You did not know their exact business, nor did you care, as you now had a whole new land to explore. The city was larger and nothing like home. The people looked different and spoke an entirely different language, but you still managed to get around and on the market behind your house. It had been excellent and eye-opening, only making you more eager to see what else to discover. But unfortunately, there was only so little time, and before you knew it, you had to return home. You remember the last day. It had been raining, but it did not stop anyone from loading the new supplies. Somehow it seemed like much more needed to be brought on board for this half of the journey than the first.

What’s in those barrels, you asked, but no one ever replied. They barely ever did. It wasn’t your place to ask questions in these matters. You were simply a passenger on the ship, verging on stowaway, spending your days in the quiet of your own room for the most part until…

It was the middle of the day, and the sun burned above you brightly, yet you shivered. You had always known to trust your father’s judgement and his decisions, but there was no possible way in which this was right. That this was how it would end.

The alleyway practically screamed at you for you to go and run in and get him out of there, but with so many people watching, it would be hopeless. The guards would get you before you had even reached the stairs. You would have to wait.

‘It’s good to see you again, miss.’ A voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It took you a few slow blinks to realise who it was.

‘Oh, you too, Mr Bowman.’ you smiled towards the merchant as he smiled at you through his bushy beard. He was sitting next to his table of… you were not sure what to call them. The man was quite the eccentric, and you had barely ever seen him actually make a sale on any of his products, but you doubted he was there for business anyway. ‘Have I missed much in the past months?’ You could always count on him for good stories about the townsfolk. The man had all his senses on sharp, constantly vigilant of everything around him.

‘I think your return is the biggest news we’ve had in a while.’ He scratched his beard, ‘That, and well, the upcoming execution, of course.’

‘People already know?’ You blinked, not having expected that to be public knowledge yet. Then again, it is an event like no other. Preparations have to be made.

‘Edward the Banished gets arrested, and you expect people not to know?’ He laughed almost mockingly as he usually did, but you looked at him blankly.

‘The Banished?’ you had heard much about Eddie, but this name was new to your ears.

‘Yes, ridiculous name, if you ask me,’ he waved it off, ‘Pure sensationalism as it rolls smoother on the tongue than deserter or runagate, quisling, traitor—’

‘I understand,’ you stopped him nervously. ‘But how did he get this name? What did he do?’

‘HA!’ he startled you with volume. ‘What didn’t he do, you should ask.’ This caused many of the other merchants around you to weigh in on the subject.

‘I heard he abducted the governor’s daughter.’

‘That’s her. She’s right here.’

‘Oh. Well, he had attempted to assassinate the king of England!’

‘The Prince, you blockhead. And he did kill him!’

‘He has burned entire islands down. All over a game of cards.’

‘Stole an entire fleet and handed it over to the Spanish, just like that.’

‘He drinks the blood of his enemies!’

‘Sold his soul to the devil!’

Everyone looked at the old man that shouted this out. You were afraid to ask more questions, so let the others do this for you. ‘What do you mean, he sold his soul?’

‘He did! Did all those things to offer himself to Satan and do his dirty deeds here on earth. He is cursed to sail the seas in his wicked ship with the unrighteous crew for all eternity.’

‘Well, that eternity won’t last much longer.’ Someone commented, resulting in a chuckle around the street. Most of the people laughed, but you stayed quiet, your mind going back to Eddie, his body covered in unexplainable scars. The wind suddenly grew stronger.

‘I’m telling you,’ the man continued, ‘we won’t get rid of him yet! Not until Hell freezes over!’

‘Someone give the man a hat; he’s had too much sun,’ Mr Bowman called, rich coming from him, whose balding head was burning bright red. He then turned to you, shrugging as the rest had clearly proven his point. ‘And that is why I do not mess around with pirates, deary, no matter how charming they may seem.’

‘Excuse me?’ were the first words coming out of your mouth in the last few minutes, and you quickly regretted having them form into another question.

‘I saw you two yesterday at the arrest.’ Of course, he had. Nothing around here ever escaped this man. He looked proud of himself for having witnessed the events. ‘It was quite dramatic, seeing lovers have to be broken apart like that.’

‘I think you might have had too much sun today,’ you tried to sound casual as you laughed it off.

‘I am not here to judge,’ he said, putting his hands up in surrender, ‘simply to advise.’

‘Thank you, Mr Bowman.’ You smiled politely, ready to escape the conversation. You had been used to him often throwing around false and farfetched accusations, and even listening to this conversation, you knew it was nothing if not complete nonsense, just gossip gone too far along the years. So now that he had actually been correct, it stunned you, even maybe scared you. What would the people around you think if they knew what happened between you and Eddie? How would they react if they knew how you felt about his death sentence? You would be deemed mad.

Of course, the not-so-inconspicuous guards followed you back to your room, where you stayed for the rest of the day until it was time for dinner. Your father did not join you this time. As hunger finally struck you, fighting nausea caused by the stress of the last few days, you ate everything served to you.

On the ship, you had thought that once you came back, you wouldn't be able to stop eating all the things you had been missing for months, but nothing tasted as good as you remembered. In fact, nothing was as good as you remembered. The food was bland, the flowers not as vibrant, and the people not as joyous. Once, you had heard laughter and chatter, but it seemed like the streets grew cold and silent, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

After your meal, you walked out of the room but turned left instead of taking the right towards your room. People immediately caught on.

‘Miss? Where are you going?’ A guard called out.

‘Oh,’ you attempted to sound like you had not expected this exact conversation when you moved, ‘just thought of going on a stroll. The night air does me rather well.’ You grinned in a way you hoped would come off naive.

‘I do not think that’s a good idea.’ The guard said. ‘I would suggest that you return to your room,’ he spoke in a tone telling you that it was not a suggestion at all. Not in the slightest.

‘Am I on house arrest?’

‘See it more as a curfew.’

You scoffed at the idea, or more that you had very little choice but to obey. There was a moment in which you stared up at the guard, switching between expressions to get him to crack and let you go, but to your disappointment, he cocked his head toward your room.

How were you ever supposed to get to Eddie if they constantly watched you? The question kept you up another whole night and the next day. Just for the sake of it, since they so desperately needed to be with you at all times, you decided to sit in the library for about four hours with no book in sight, just staring out the window, letting them stare at you. At a certain point, you had caught one man actually yawning.

‘I am absolutely certain that there are at least fifty things that would be more productive for you to do then this,’ you broke the deafening, maddening silence, still looking out the window. You had counted all the leaves on the tree branch that kept hitting the pane in the breeze and had recollected every corridor and door in the house. In the reflection of the glass, you could see the guards glance nervously at each other, and with a smile, you turned to face them. ‘You can just go. I won’t tell anyone.’ But they stood their ground. With a groan, you sank back down into the chair.

It would take much longer for them to break, so much more time that you—that Eddie—did not possess. Three days left before the execution. Three days left for you to take the chance and do something. Save him. There were a million ideas, one worse after the other, with so many risks and problems that it could eventually end in your own hanging.

You shut your door at the end of the day, and it must have sounded through the entire house. Another day gone, and you had gotten nowhere. You could see the shadows of their feet come through the gap underneath your door, and they would be there the next morning when you awoke. Sleep deprived from tossing and turning as long as the sun was down. The bed still felt too big for comfort. At one point, they had run into the room at the sound of muffled screams, just for you to pull your head out of your pillow to yell at them to get out.

You walked towards the dining room for breakfast, this time wearing a rose gold dress, surprised not to be followed by a parade of footsteps but halted at the sound of voices coming from inside the hall.

‘I think it is safe to say that she does not require any supervision, sir.’ one of the guards said. You never bothered to learn their names, too frustrated to care, but you learned to recognise their voices from the amount of squabbling you had done.

‘Is that so?’ your father munched away.

‘She does nothing but mope around all day, quite harmless, I’d say… uhh, sir.’ The other added.

Mope? You did not mope, if only because they sucked your life out with their constant “supervision”. As much as you wanted to burst into the room, you composed yourself and listened on.

‘Does she seem well, in the head, I mean?’ Your father asked, but they did not reply. Not verbally, at least; you could imagine them looking at each other in the way they did, and just the idea made you clench your fists until they turned pale.

‘She’s stubborn, a bit immature, a bit aggressive.’ One of them chose his words carefully and slowly.

‘So that’s a no, I take it,’ your father concluded. You took this as your opportunity to announce yourself with a few loud steps, moving back a few paces to repeat them with exaggeration.

‘Good evening, father,’ you said as you took your seat, not giving him or the other man any more of your attention. The guards glanced at you nervously before leaving the room.

‘Terrorised the guards, I see?’ he asked.

‘No more than they did me,’ you replied in the same emotionless tone as you ate.

‘I just wanted what’s best for you. It had been a tumultuous time, and you had gone through quite– ’

‘Is that a reason to… to lock me up and have me followed around like some kind of—’ You were at a loss for words, so instead, opted for a frustrated groan and stuffing your face with a forkful of lamb.

‘Well, you’ve proved me wrong. Clearly, you can still care for yourself.’ he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. ‘I’ll make them let you be from now on,’ and with that, he walked away. You couldn’t suppress the smile that rose to your lips once the doors closed behind him, immediately knowing the first place you were heading to with your newfound “freedom”.

The kitchen.

Well, that is not exactly the first thing. You had to wait for all the dishes to be cleared from the dining room, so you wandered around the corridors and then headed down the stairs as quietly as possible to not raise any attention to yourself.

As suspected, the kitchen was empty. Most of the food on the plates still untouched. Quietly, you grabbed a basket and began picking things out here and there, those that would go unnoticed by anyone walking in to grab a midnight snack. The only thing that might have caught someone’s attention by going missing was one of the larger bottles of rum stacked on a shelf.

You placed a napkin over the basket's content and grabbed one of the staff member’s hoods to cover yourself up with before heading outside. It would help against the cold night air and hopefully make you a bit less noticeable, as the grey hood did not stand out as much as your extravagant dress. As you took the first steps out into the garden, the idea came to you that maybe that was another idea of them trying to keep you inside these walls. After all, while you had always had nice clothing, it did not compare to the dresses you’ve worn since your return. It could be seen as a welcome home gift, but it was undeniable that the dress you wore now could be spotted from miles away.

You pulled the cloak tighter over yourself.

Besides a few men who were too drunk to notice or care who you were, the streets were also empty. The men standing at the prison doors were half asleep, and either way, you were not too anxious about them as they were usually more preoccupied with keeping people in than out. You slipped through the shadows into the alley and only dared to breathe once inside. The steps leading further into the building were uneven, especially in the dark. The only light was half-burned-up torches lining the path. A crinkly small corridor that eventually led to a crooked staircase. You could barely keep yourself up straight, almost tripping over your feet. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, where the dungeon's entrance stood, took almost longer than the walk to the building across town as you held onto the cold wall, doing your best not to fall.

Now, you could only pray that the final door was not locked. The handle wiggled and creaked open.

You hesitated. What would await you inside? This whole trek had been based on your intuition that he would be put in one of the isolated cells, away from the petty criminals. But what if they kept him somewhere else? What if they had done something to him and… well, there was only one way to find out.

As you stepped into the caved-out room and almost instantaneously, never before had you felt such a cold fall over you. Maybe it was due to the thick walls absorbing all sound or how the slit-like windows below the ceiling only let through the tiniest slivers of moonlight, obstructing any of the day’s heat from entering the room. Or maybe it was the sight of him in the pale torchlight that chilled you to the bone.

He was seated on the ground, framed by a cell jagged from rock and steel bars. The moonlight managed to just about frame his face, exhausted and fragile. His eyes were closed in pretend sleep. You could tell that much as his brows furrowed at the sound of your footsteps. You tried to call out to him, but your throat was stuck. But you didn’t need to say anything. He called your name in a weak voice, in a hesitant manner, as if he was making sure that what he saw was real. If you were really there.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked in disbelief.

What were you doing here? You had been asking yourself this the entire walk up to the cells, trying to find a reason why it meant so much to you to see him again, to help him, and yet you still could not come up with anything. There was no response besides holding up the basket with a weak smile and saying, ‘I thought you would like some dinner.’

Eddie sat straight, pulling himself up by one of the cell bars. As you walked up to his cell and sat down on the ground beside him, you could feel his eyes on you. Pure disbelief at your presence, the food. You held the meat out to him, but he did not move.

‘It is not poisoned,’ you smiled sheepishly, ‘if that is what you’re wondering.’ Even when you handed him the food to eat. He did so slowly, apprehensively at first, still unable to look away from you. Perfectly understandable. You had barely gotten used to this. How the beading and frame of the dress poked at you from every angle. Your feet hurt, and your hair had been pulled into an intricate hairstyle, causing you to walk around with a headache for hours. Not that it was anything to compare to Eddie’s circumstances. He sat in his cell, too small to stretch his body out in, with no bed, just the cold hard ground. They had removed his jacket and belt, leaving him to sit out the cold of the night in just his shirt. You also noticed a new bruise forming on his jaw, which certainly had not been there when you last saw him. All this to break him down, yet the way he looked at you—you could have sworn you were still lying together in his bed, far away from all this.

He glanced down at your dress, how it pooled around you, almost leaking through the cell barriers up to him in all its opulence. ‘How the tables have turners, haven’t they, princess,’ he chuckled, and you had never thought to be so happy from hearing such a simple sound. The nickname felt deliberately chosen at this time, too. You pulled at the edges of your dress, collecting it closer to you.

‘I know, I look ridiculous.’

‘I think the word you’re looking for is beautiful,’ he said between bites, but you ignored the compliment, knowing that if you let it get to you, it would come together with a shower of tears. As he kept on eating his food, you sighed, letting your side hit the wall as you leaned up to him. You handed him more of the food that you had brought him and the rum, then let him finish in silence. His mere presence beside you already was more than enough. The sound of his deep calm breaths was enough to put you to rest, and it pleased you that the sea had not left him just yet. He still smelled of it. That fresh sea salt air was simply stuck in his hair. You refrained from combing your fingers through it.

This was already so far from what you had expected things to go like. You had thought that once you came home, even with his request for a hefty payment, he would still be welcomed as a hero. That you could make things work and somehow, maybe, naively, be together. Even now, you thought that if he saw you here, you would have some kind of moment of clarity where everything became crystal clear and easy to understand. That you would know exactly what to do, and it would be glorious. You thought he would be happy to see you. Never had you imagined him asking you again, ‘What are you doing here? Really.’

‘I wanted to see you,’ you said, but he could read past all your layers. ‘And… over the past few days, I have heard things. About you. Things that I can hardly believe to be true and yet are seen as such by the majority of people, so I hoped you could clear some things up for me.’

‘You don’t believe your own people but would believe me?’ He took a swig of the rum, already handing it back to you, but you declined, giving it back.

‘I have given you my trust more times than I should have, and so far, it has not led me down any dark paths, but I can only hope that you will not break that bond now.’ After all that you had been through? Was he in any position to do so? ‘So I hope you will tell me what really happened. I—I remember you, years ago, meeting with my father and Carver. You were in the military, right?’

Eddie let his head roll back, hitting the wall behind him with a shallow thud. ‘You remember me?’

‘It came to me during the storm. A memory of you walking with them in the garden. For the longest time, I could not make sense if it had been real or if my mind playing tricks on me, but I realised now what it was. You looked different, but it was you, wasn’t it? You were like them?’

‘Turns out, maybe I still am, and more than you’d think,’ he sighed, ‘or less, depending on how you look at it.’ He took another sip of the drink.

‘Will you tell me, please?’ You pleaded, eagerly awaiting the answers to what you had been trying to figure out long before you had returned home. Eddie looked apprehensive.

‘What good will it do?’ He turned his head in your direction, still leaning against the wall. You moved over to be closer to him, your legs almost touching.

‘Perhaps nothing, but—’ you sighed, ‘All my life, I’ve been protected. I’ve had everything handed to me without any trouble. I had spend most of my years never further away than these shores and always under someone’s watch. I had never had the space to make risks or mistakes. There was no such thing as danger. Even now, I had been under constant watch. No one will answer my questions or even listen to me because they want to protect me. Because they think I’m fragile and cannot handle it.’

At this, Eddie scoffed. ‘If anything, they cannot handle you, darling.’

‘Meanwhile, you,’ you smiled, ignoring the heat burning over your cheeks, ‘Well, perhaps not all your methods were ideal, but you never treated me like I was made of glass. You pushed me, and it actually, for once, made me feel alive and like I am worth being in the room with.’

Eddie reached for your hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than that,’ he mumbled against your knuckled as he kissed them. He held on to you as he began talking slowly, choosing his words wisely. ‘I had joined the navy younger than anyone should have—my parents couldn’t afford me, so I had to make myself useful quickly, and that felt at least somewhat commendable, no matter how it would end.

‘Started right at the bottom, but I wanted to prove myself. I followed orders, did everything what was asked of me, and more, and I moved through the ranks. As I gained more of a position, I got more of an insight into the men I was working for and with.’

As he spoke, you watched his eyes pale, haze over with memories. The dam he had built around them had broken up, flooding out, and he could not stop it anymore. He wanted to continue, but he hesitated, glancing your way, but you encouraged him to go on with a nod of the head. Even then, he scratched at his face nervously and took a deep breath.

‘We would find ourselves everywhere around the world, and a certain power comes with wearing a uniform. It is universal, one that everyone understands and is willing to abuse. It was easy to see yourself as better than the poor locals, to excuse yourself from the import taxes and all the bureaucracy around the travel. I had done it myself, flashing a grin with the mindset of superiority.’ He hid his face in his hands, groaning. You reached out for his arm.

‘Hey, it’s okay,’ you hushed, but was it really?

‘When you get that taste of power when it hits right, it is hard to let go. It had never sat well with me; every time I got away from a port without paying for my ship, I stayed up entire nights as the guilt ate away from me, but it had been what everyone else was doing, and you don’t want to fall behind. It had become a pressure to boast your power over those who did not have any.

‘And this power…. it turned darker as simple actions of business turned to abuse. Swindling merchants of their products, conning drunks with games, and stealing their money. Taking advantage of… everyone. It had become a sport to them.

‘I was aware of it, but it had somehow never seemed that serious—it happened so gradually—until one day I saw one of the commanders with this girl…’ his breath hitched. You squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there, that you were listening. ‘She was just a child, and when I saw what he—I lost control of myself, lashed out at him. It had been stupid trying to argue with someone that outranked me. There was no one I could tell that would do anything about it, not when they were all just as bad.

‘Then Carver came up to me one day. Said that together we could make a change.’ Eddie’s jaw clenched. ‘I should have known better. He had always been too close with the rest of them, but we planned on making a change.

‘But on the day we were about to tell your father about everything that happened on our voyages—the day we saw each other in the garden, in fact,’ he squeezed your hand back. ‘We never got the chance because I was sent away.’ Something in you caught your breath, making him smile lightly.

‘There had been talk of a war, and so I was sent out with a fleet to take charge. Carver had promised me he would take care of everything in my absence, but—’

‘He didn’t,’ you finished the sentence for him.

‘In a way, he did. Of course, it was all a hoax. He had needed an excuse to get rid of me. It took me three months to get back, having found no signs of possible ambushes, and when I did, I returned to the news that Hargrove, the commander I had attacked, had been found dead that same evening I left. And there was the missing gold and the rumours of a coup, among other things. Somehow, he had convinced everyone I had gone above and beyond in betraying our country, but the murder charges hit the heaviest. They thought I had killed one of our own.

‘The only people on my side had been those on the ship with me, and they had given up all they had by giving me their trust. They were marked as traitors just for standing up against the accusations. I already had lost everything I had to lose and could not stand by it, so I left. I took my ship and my crew, and we sailed off.

Bowman’s words rang through your mind as Eddie said this. Deserter. Runagate. Quisling. Traitor. You still wanted to ask him so much, but you let him speak before interrupting.

‘The sea was a liberation. We were free to do whatever we wanted, so we did, but I always felt like I was tied back to this place. Like…’ he laughed, ‘like a rope was hanging around my neck, dragging me back here. At first, I thought it was guilt, so I did my best to reprimand everything they had done. I wanted to do something for all those men and women we had hurt, give them some form of protection against those uniforms.

‘But no matter what I did, who I helped, that feeling did not stop. In a way, it grew worse. I got angry and felt like the only thing that would help me was revenge; I stayed up most nights thinking of unimaginable things. I got lost in the darkness of it. If it wasn’t for Harrington, I don’t know what would have become of me.’

‘Harrington?’ You could see how that would happen, but the mention of him somehow startled you. It's another piece of the story that made it feel so real.

‘He had been in a similar position as me. His commanding officer had been asking him to do all these dirty jobs until he had had enough. It had only been a couple of days since he had given up his post when we met one night at a tavern. He wouldn't have joined us if it had not been for a game of cards. Neither would have Robin.’

You had no idea how long you had sat there, just enough for your body to grow cold and stiff on the ground, but you could not care less about any of that, too focused on his story. As he mentioned Steve and Robin, his smile reached his eyes for the first time since you had arrived, revitalising you, knowing that there was still something in his life that left fond memories behind. You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand as you listened on.

‘Either way, I had fallen into a deep, dark pit, and Steve pulled me out. He showed me what I was doing did no good for anyone but them. It was eating me alive, killing me from the inside.’

‘But you still killed them all.’ The words left your mouth sooner than you could think them through. Knowing his reason behind it all made you understand, but it did not lessen the impact of the deed.

Hearing you say that, Eddie quickly turned his entire body to you, pulling himself as close to you as possible, almost pushing himself through the bars. His eyes were full of an intensity that burned through your soul.

‘I am not trying to make excuses. I did what I did—I led my crew towards the Red Tail and let them sink that ship, but not for myself. That is what Harrington made me realise. I did not need to see them die, but they needed to pay for everything they had done. For ruining all those people’s lives. You must understand that?’

He didn’t need to see them die. Moments flashed before you of your very first seconds on the Hellfire. Of Eddie walking up to you, the words he spoke in front of you.

– Carver? Where is that pesky little bilge rat?

– Bled out on the ship.

– Shame. Would have like to have seen that. ‘You weren’t even there.’ you whispered.

‘It wasn’t about me.’ He shook his head. ‘Besides, if I had been the one to kill them, it would have only satisfied them. To see me become what they had told the world I already was. All I wanted was for them to be gone. Just gone.

‘None of this,’ his eyes darted over your face. ‘Was meant to happen to you. My men were simply looking for the things in the office that had already been stolen. But then they saw you under that table, they couldn’t leave you. You were innocent.’ His hand reached out to brush over your cheek. Only at his touch did you realise that you had started to cry as he wiped down your tears. ‘And to you, I am truly sorry for everything I put you through.’

You had nothing to reply with but a kiss, pulling him close to you. The steel bars of the cell caused an awkward distance between you, yet you never felt closer. It was as if now, you finally, truly, knew who it was you were touching. The kiss had been brief, but the silence that followed stretched on. The two of you sat there, sinking away from reality, but the questions you still had kept you grounded. Just as Eddie had said, a noose dragging you back.

‘Eddie,’ you called him carefully. ‘What about the letter?’

‘What letter, princess.’ His hand kept rubbing over your tear-stained cheek.

‘You know which one I mean,’ you pulled back slightly to be able to look properly at him. ‘Who was it for?’

He laughed, the saddest laugh you had ever heard come from him, and it pained you from within. ‘What does all this matter? I will be dead soon. The less there is left of me here, the better.’

You watched him pull himself up again to sit, tap his knuckles on his knee. His answer had angered you. ‘Because…’ you took a deep breath, taking the leap you had been too afraid to take. ‘it just gives me that much less time to know the man I have fallen in love with.’ You wanted to keep as much of him as possible. That is what you could do by listening. To give him that voice in his own story.

Eddie fell silent. His mouth opened to speak, but no voice came out for several tries. He searched for the right words until he finally blinked slowly and looked up at the ceiling. His jaw clenched once again, in the way that he sucked in a deep breath. As he released it, he said: ‘Her name was Christina.’

‘Your wife?’ Again, you thought of what he had told you earlier. I already had lost everything I had to lose. He must have had people who cared for him before all this had happened.

‘Fiancée,’ he corrected, not that it mattered to either of you. ‘We had known each other our whole lives, having grown up on the same streets. We kept each other strong with this promise that one-day things would get better. That we would escape from all the burdens and create our own paradise. She was the reason I—’ he couldn’t speak of it out loud, and you didn’t need him to. You didn’t tell him to continue the story when he eventually did.

‘Foolishly, I had not told her anything of what went on. I told her things would finally be good for us when I returned. We would leave and never turn back. I thought I was protecting her by keeping it all from her, but it was the final nail in my coffin.

‘She had been the first person I saw after my return, and I could sense that something was wrong. Then the guards knocked on the door, and she opened it like she had been expecting them.

‘I could only assume it was Carver. That he told her what he told everyone else. She wouldn’t look at me, touch me, speak to me. No matter how hard I tried to prove myself, he had poisoned her with his words. In the end, she only saw me as a monster.’

The last word stung you in your chest, knowing how often you had used that exact word to describe him yourself. How often have you called him a monster or even worse? But his openness triggered more memories to come up. Your conversations with the crew of the Red Tail. Their stories and lives.

‘Christina…’ you mumbled the name with familiarity. ‘That was… that was the name of the admiral’s wife.’

‘It does not come to me as a surprise,’ he chuckled that sad laugh again. He had clearly expected to hear those words eventually. You looked at him, feeling the sting in the corners of your eyes. The tears were coming right back, but he quickly wiped those too. ‘Please, don’t. I do not need your pity. I have told you everything there is to know about me, and that is all I could or ever will ask of you again.’

‘I don’t—’ you wanted to speak, but he quickly went on. As he held your face in his hands, his thumb brushed over your lips,

‘And I will cherish these moments, every second I spent with you, until my last breath. I will think of you as the sun sets, I promise you.’

‘What—what are you talking about?’ your voice choked between sobs.

‘I never expected you to come here,’ he kissed you, passing all the feelings he had voiced earlier over to you with the touch of his lips, ‘but don’t come here again.’

‘What? No!’ You pushed yourself away. This wasn’t the plan. You were going to help him. You were going to get him out of here. As you got up to your feet, so did he, reaching for your hand again.

‘Listen to me.’ he gritted his teeth in desperation. ‘There is no way out of here, and it will only get worse for me.’ As he said so, your eyes flashed back to the bruise on his pale skin. ‘I do not want you to see me like that. Let this be where we say our goodbyes.’ He held your hand, finger over your knuckles, soothingly. You hated that he was comforting you at this moment.

‘No,’ you whimpered, head shaking. You turned your hand around in his to grab onto his fingers. One of his skull rings slowly began to slide off, and so you stopped before it dropped.

‘Please,’ he squeezed your hand.

‘No!’ you shouted, not caring if the guards outside could hear you. They might storm inside any second now and drag you out, they could try, but you wouldn’t let them. ‘I won’t let you die.’

‘It’s okay.’ He said. With every sentence he spoke, a new piece of the puzzle had been allotted to its place, but the final picture still blurred before your mind. It only seemed like even more gaps needed to be filled in, but it was slowly coming together, and when it did… You wanted to cry out.

Eddie held you as best as he could through his restraints, the faintest smile painted over his lips.

‘You knew, didn’t you?’ you stood there, defeated. ‘That if you would come back here with me, that this would happen. You knew you would be arrested and hanged.’

‘At least now I truly deserve it.’ All the crimes he committed at sea trying to help others, what he had let happen to the Red Tail. ‘So, please, just go. I promise, it will be alright.’

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him, punch him, and much more for all of this. You wanted him to hurt as much as you did as he told you to leave, but in reality, you doubted anything you could do to him would match even half of the pain you felt as you stood there. You wanted him to hurt, but all you could do was take one last step forward and pull him in to kiss you.

When you left, you could still feel him on your lips. That feeling let you move step by step out onto the street. Everything else felt not quite right, not quite real. You walked mindlessly across the empty market, barely aware of your surroundings, until you suddenly stood in front of your room door. You dropped the empty basket at your side and practically floated onto the bed.

It was late; you had no idea what time exactly, but too late for anyone to help you get out of that corset. You lay on the bed, now unable to get up, unwilling to move even if you could, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you never stopped staring or fell into a slumber, but the next morning you still lay on your back, barely changing position over the early morning hours.

You sat in your room, looking at the tide coming and going, pushing the sand and the rocks through the hours. The hours blurred; days became night, and the moon turned into the sun. The following two days passed, and you spend them in silent disbelief and confusion, just fighting to not return to the prison cell.

There must be something you could do. People you could convince or pay or bribe in any other way to not let the execution take place. Help him escape.

This could not be the end.

But Eddie had made his final wish clear. You were not to see him again, and what could you do when no one would listen to you? When everyone on the island had his mind set on what Eddie was? You were paralysed with helplessness, and no matter what you tried to do or what to think about, it just would not go away. It grew inside you, impossible to ever leave you again, and you were slowly making peace with that. Your own price to pay for not being able to do anything for him when he truly needed it.

Even when you arrived at the square, which was filling up with an audience hours before the event, were you trying to look for escape routes, but the more people arrived, the more challenging a wall they created to penetrate. You would never be able to run through it, but you thought of it. Holding his hand, never looking back.

The sun that afternoon was flaming hot, burning through all the layers of your dress that pinned into your ribs as you sat down. The governing families got the best seats on the raised platform in the house, with plush chairs to wait on while everything was prepared. There was only the cool breeze of your fan to cool you down, but it did nothing on your nerves. They burned within just as much as the sun's rays.

You had not been sure if coming was a good choice or if you were prepared to witness Eddie’s death, but your absence would surely be questioned and… and you could not pass on the ever last possibility of seeing him. The dubiety ran through you with a threat of tears.

But more and more people came around to see, and you traced each face to find someone who could help you. Someone on your side. A familiar ally, but no luck. They were all prepared to see a man die tonight. The mumbling amongst them turned into chatter, and the conversations of local gossip turned to absolute mudslinging.

‘I heard he has killed over a thousand men with his bare hands.’

‘Well, I heard he had planned on taking over the army in order to become the next king!’

‘And I heard—’

‘I heard—’

I heard… One thing after the other, each one worse than the last. Could they not see this? All of it nothing but hearsay. They were putting a man on death row for things overheard at the market. Of course, no one would listen if you were to say this.

The sky slowly turned a warm orange, glowing on the buildings like a soft fire. The bell in the church tower struck seven times, half through instinct and half through custom, people’s heads turned in one direction. All but yours because as they all looked at the procession—the court man carrying a large scroll of parchment, followed by the executioner, who pulled the chains that were locked around Eddie’s wrists and the two guardsmen behind him, weapons at the ready—you stared ahead at the gallows. The rope hanging on it looked short and could only mean one thing.

A slow and painful death.

The clanking of the shackles echoed through the entire square with each step Eddie took. He was barely visible through the crowd, but the length of the executioner in front of him ensured everyone could follow the death march.

Eddie looked ill—pale and fragile. His steps were shaking, not improved at all by the heavy chains that pulled him forward. He stumbled around up the stairs to the gallow. You could see his eyes look up in fearful amazement at the construction of the gibbet. His Adam’s apple choked up and down, and then his eyes caught sight of you.

Everything began to move at a slowed-down pace.

He must not have expected you to come or hoped you wouldn’t because the brave and confident facade cracked for the tiniest moment. The sadness dominated his features for a glimpse of time, but it was all you could see. Too occupied by his view, he had missed his call to step up. The hangman shouted something from underneath his black hood, kicking Eddie forward. You flinched as Eddie kept his balance not to fall to the floor. You couldn’t do this. You could not watch this go down, but you did not want to leave him behind. Not ever. This could not be the end.

The court man stepped forward, unscrolling his parchment as he cleared his throat. It was enough for the people below, standing on the pavement, in the shadows of the buildings, on the balconies, to quiet down and listen as he read:

‘On this day,’ his voice carried through the entire square, ‘we bear witness to the punishment of Edward Munson, pirate, for his admitted crimes of theft, perjury, extortion, abduction, desertion, high treason and murder, sentencing him to death as decided by the governing council.

‘He shall hang here for God to give his final judgement and remain a reminder for any wrong-doers and sinners to come!’

You glanced at your father, who sat by untouched. Was Eddie’s body here to stay forever? You could not imagine having to walk around this town every day just to see his body be taken by the elements.

The sun was nearly at the horizon, shining bright at all of you, its heat still heating your skin.

The people cheered as the rope was put around Eddie’s neck, who waved to them as if they were not cheering on his demise. One hand pulling the other up, making the chain between them clink. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and it astonished you to see that he managed to stay his entertaining self even now. Always playing a role for the other man. Here to entertain. To provoke. To distract.

But the smile faded, body stiffened as the noose was pulled taut.

‘That’s a bit tight,’ Eddie commented, and in response to that, the hooded man pulled it even tighter. It dug into his skin. He looked down at where the floor would soon disappear from underneath him, then up at the sky and with a slight choke, he spoke out his final words, embellished by the last spark of his life:

‘To reign is worth ambition though in hell: Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven.’

People gasped, mumbling amongst each other once more until hushed to silence by the hangman walking up to the lever that would set everything into motion. As Eddie took his final breath, everyone held theirs in anticipation. Your hands were shaking; every breath you took felt like a betrayal to him and like a stab in your lungs. Your fan moved faster, the small gushes of wind barely doing anything to cool down your face. This could not be the end. Not this. Not now. It couldn’t be—

The arm was pulled, and it was as if it had removed the ground from underneath your feet; that’s how deep the drop in your stomach was as you saw Eddie fall. It was as much as you could bear seeing before you turned around, hiding your face in your hands, hiding your tears from everyone else.

When hanging a person, two types of noose could be used. With the longer drop, the fall's impact would cause the neck to break and bring instant death. The shorter rope prolongs the act of dying as the rope digs into their throat, cutting off their air. During this, the square is filled with the sound of choked gasps, encouraged by the hundreds of onlookers.

If you had been one of them, down there on the ground, with easy access to the podium, you would have stormed it. Cut the rope loose. But you sat on the balcony, surrounded by your father and the other gentlemen and guards, unable to move anywhere. So you could only hope that there would be someone to do what you wanted to do. That someone would show up and save him like you wish you could. But when no one came, and his strangled groans became more sporadic, you had had enough. You couldn’t do this. You could not sit by and watch or even listen to what was happening before you.

Your father’s call of your name was muffled by the public, and your own internal screams as you ran out. Arms reached for you, but you pushed past them all. As soon as you were out of everyone’s sight, the tears started to flow, and they would not stop no matter how far you ran. And you wanted to run as far away as possible, as far away as your legs could take you. Off this island, away from these people. Yet, you eventually carried yourself back to the square. Each step made you dizzy through the corridors and down the stairs, but you could not stand still.

You had thought you were faster, but as soon as you pushed the heavy doors open and saw the stream of people walking away, the truth sank into your bones. You pushed your way past the crowd back to the open marketplace. As soon as it was done, people lost interest and continued with their evenings as if nothing had happened, ready for whatever next was to come eventually. By the time you reached the foot of the gallow, there was practically no one else around you.

The sun was saying its goodbyes, and his body was a dark shadow across the obscuring sky, hanging limp, still swinging from side to side but with every second coming closer to its final halt. Something about the movements looked so serene that you could not come to terms with that this was really it. Just like that… he was gone, but it happened so quickly, so easily. Too quickly.

You stood in front of him as the last people left, and the sun disappeared at the end of the world until the real darkness fell upon you, and your tears finally dried out until your throat screamed for water and air, and you could barely stand up straight.

This could not be the end.

And you were one of the first people to hear of it.

First, there was the prickling of the fire in the reading room, the flipping of the pages as you stared ahead at the words of the book, making yourself seem present in the room as your father sat by. Then there were the rushed footsteps in the hallway. The hushed whispers of hesitance behind the closed door as the men contemplated what to do. A creak of the door as they walked inside towards your father and leaned in to whisper so you would not hear what they had to say.

But the room was so quiet, you heard it quite clearly.

‘Sir, there is an…a problem.’

‘What is the matter?’ Your father, as always, did not find much need to express himself largely, but at the guard's response, his eyes grew wide, and for a moment, the glow of the fire seemed that much cooler.

‘The body…. It’s gone, sir.’

‘What do you mean,’ he composed himself quickly, ‘he is gone? How can that be?’

The guards never looked so small. ‘We do not know sir, but he is. It is like he has disappeared into thin air.’

‘Absurd,’ your father got up, and so did you. Before you got to say a word or take a step forward, he quickly stopped you. ‘You stay here.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Was all you replied as you rushed out of the room ahead of anyone else.

You had already made your peace with never stepping a foot inside the town square ever again, not if you would have to be reminded of that afternoon, of everything that happened in the last months, but as you walked back up to it, you could not have been happier that you had returned.

Only the rope left was where his body had hung and where it had meant to hang for days to come. Its perfectly knotted noose swayed like he had the last time you saw him.

Everyone else was right behind you, but just before they reached the platform with you, you noticed something in the corner of your eye. A shine against the moonlight on the wooden beams. You could just barely reach it, but with a stretch of the arm, your fingertips just about managed to get a grip on it. Before you could look at it, you heard your father shout orders at the guards, making them search everywhere in the nearby surroundings. Maybe whoever had taken the body was still somewhere nearby.

Whoever took it… was that what happened? Before you could look around for more signs that could clarify the situation, you were called to return back home. It would do little good to argue now, so you followed the guard tasked with escorting you to your room. Only when he closed your door and you sat down at your drawing desk that you opened your fist to reveal what it was you had found beneath the rope.

The pair of hollowed-out eyes of the skull ring stared back at you. There was no possible way for you to know what this meant if it even meant something, but you couldn’t help but smile. The ring was loose on your finger, but you kept it on.

This could not be the end of Captain Eddie Munson.

It wasn’t.

For most people, he lived on as a ghost story, and as you had learned from a very young age, dead men tell no tales. The living pass their stories around, mouth to mouth, page to page. Blurring the truth with their urgency for clarity, they try to make sense of things they cannot understand. Secrets become myths and legends that barely resemble the truth.

In most cases, it takes years, decades, if not centuries, but here, on this small island, the conversations on the street already trickled with gossip and rumours the following morning.

I did not want to believe it, but it must be true, what they say. He did sell his soul to the devil! And it came to retrieve his body.

I told you! It is useless to try and kill the unkillable! No, did you not hear what he had said? “Better to reign in hell!” But he is the devil incarnate!

Well, I’m surprised they caught him in the first place! Why he must be a ghost. The lot of them on that wicked ship. All cursed, and now he will return to haunt us for the rest of our lives!

Who was to say out of all of them what happened on that square once darkness fell? No one was there to see it or tell the truth, as all who could had long left the island.

They left at night, days after everything went down after the search for Eddie’s missing body had been called off, “officially” said to have been stolen but never confirmed. Those who knew what happened to it stayed in hiding until it was safe to come out until all suspicions were blurred with the gossip and basically forgotten. Quietly, they ran to the harbour, unseen by anyone, swift as the wind.

Unnoticed by anyone…but you.

Like most of the nights, unable to fall asleep, you had been looking out your window out at the harbour and the sea. The ships that calmly stood anchored there and the waves that pushed against them. Slowly, they put you to sleep, and so at first, you thought it was just a blur of your tired gaze, the dark spot in the far distance. It wasn’t a ship. And there, on the shore, there were no people preparing a boat. Not this late…

You rubbed your eyes, trying to better understand what they were doing. Packing in a hurry, throwing things into the bottom of the rowboat. As you watched, you told yourself that it was just the exhaustion speaking, that you were fooling yourself with this hope, but you could not let the chance pass you by.

You left your room without bothering to put anything on over your nightgown. Quietly to not gain any attention, but still as quickly as you could manage. Who knew how much time you had left before they would leave? Then once out of the house, you ran as fast as you could. The past few days, it felt like it had been all you had been doing, running to and from things, running after something without even knowing what you were looking for, but now you knew. You ran until your lungs began to burn from the warm and dry air. Until your feet were ready to give in and until you reached the sandy beach.

As much as you wanted to scream and shout, you kept quiet. You walked carefully up to the two figures at the shore until they noticed you next to them. It happened when you were only a few feet away; they heard the scuffle of your feet or your shaky breath and pulled their guns out. They were ready to shoot, but the second they needed to notice you in the dark saved your life. That is when you locked eyes with the man in front of you.

‘Eddie?’ you cried. Before he could say anything, you took the final few steps and closed the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. Just to know it was real. Just to make sure you had not gone completely mad. You pressed yourself against every inch of him that you could.

With the need for air, you pulled back, and instinctually, your palm met the side of his face. ‘How? I saw you—’ You both breathed heavily, chests raising drastically as he turned back to face you with a smile and press his lips against yours again. Like the last pieces of the puzzle, his hands fit on your body perfectly.

Then he pulled you apart, with his hands on your face, wiping away the tears that had formed along the way. ‘I know,’ he whispered, but the words were so close you could feel them. You could feel him. Just the feeling of his fingertips on your cheeks assured you that this was real and that it was really him. ‘And I’m so sorry.’

‘But why?’ You were trembling in his arms.

‘I had realised very early on that the only way to truly escape this place was to die,’ he smiled the smile you thought you would never see again, ‘but, well, I was not ready for that just yet.’

‘But I saw you— I watched it all happen there—how did you—’ his being broke you. You could not stop staring at the man in front of you. At all the little knicks and cracks in his skin. The fading bruises, the scars, and the long red gash along his neck that proved everything that much more.

‘I told you everything would be alright, didn’t I?’ And he never broke his promise. But still, as the truth settled in around you, it opened up a space for a new kind of hurt.

‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why let me believe that you were gone?’

‘It was the one thing that actually killed me, believe me,’ he pushed the loose hair out of your face, ‘but I needed you to believe it like anyone else. If you believed it—it would make everything so much easier.’

You wanted to ask him what on earth that was supposed to mean, but that is when you remembered the boat at his side. And when you noticed Steve waiting impatiently behind him, the oar already in his hand.

‘You’re leaving.’ It wasn’t a question. Of course, he was. He couldn’t hide here forever. Out there, in the waters, he would be genuinely free.

‘It’s all for the best, and with me gone for good, you could live on; move on,’ he said somberly.��

‘Do you think I could forget about you that easily?’ Your fist had clamped onto the material of his shirt. ‘Do you really think I think so little of you? That I had not spend every minute of the past days mourning you? Missing you?’ and now you had him… just to lose him again.

‘But it would all pass. You can find someone else, someone better, and be happy.’ He looked down at your hand to see the ring you had kept on your finger for the past few days. He kissed his ring and then looked back up at you. ‘Let me go, darling.’

‘No,’ you shook your head, much like you had in the dungeon, but this time, you were more adamant this time than ever. ‘I won’t let you. Not this time.’

He mumbled your name, trying to argue, but you were ready with a rebuttal before he even said anything.

‘I do not want to spend another day without you. Not if I know you are somewhere out there—’ you had been looking at the ring too, but then looked at him again as an idea formed in your brain. ‘Take me with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ his smile was airy and light but filled with regret. ‘You belong here.’

‘No, I don’t. Remember what I told you when I came to see you?’ You pleaded with him. ‘Do you remember?’ You pushed the words out when he didn’t say anything.

‘Yes.’

‘So, please, don’t leave me. Not again.’ At this point, you punched every word into his chest weakly as you began to cry again, and he let you. Then, when you were finally done, he held you, telling Steve off when he tried to put this to an end, even though he was right. There wasn’t much time left. The sun would come up soon again, and people would awake and see you, and it would all have been for nothing.

‘I wish I could give you the world, darling,’ he said, ‘I call you a princess, but we both know you should be treated as a queen and get anything you ask for, but I can’t do that for you. I am not the man you should be with.’ He kissed the top of your head. ‘Please, forgive me.’ And with that, he let you go.

You had let him do many things in the past, but not this time.

‘Well, I don’t forgive you.’ He had already turned around to get to the boat, but you just stepped past him, stunning him and poor Steve, as you got in. ‘If you wanted the easy way out, Munson, you should have thought twice about who to kidnap.’

The two men looked bewildered momentarily, too stunned to respond, but Steve was the first to respond. ‘She’s right,’ and he followed you in. The boat rocked from side to side. You sighed as you looked at Eddie as he stood in the sand.

‘I’m not scared, Eddie.’ you reached out your hand to him. ‘I want this.’ You wanted him. You wanted this life with him. You wanted to travel the world and have a life of adventures. You wanted to be free.

Eddie looked at you, still in apparent shock at your sudden assertion. You might have thought you had changed so much, but he still saw the same stubborn woman as that cursed day when you were hauled aboard his ship. On the contrary, he had been the one that changed, and he realised that as he cursed himself there on that beach. He knew he might come to regret this, but he thought he had regretted most of his choices, most of what he had done in the past months, and yet, he could not have been happier with where his life had led him, as it all led him to you. So, he took your hand and pulled himself into the boat.

You dropped the weights that had kept you anchored and made your way out into the sea where the Hellfire lay by patiently, waiting for her Captain and his Princess—despite what their titles actually may be—to return home.

The End.

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underoospeterparker · 1 month

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🪸 CORALS - send me a character + an au (rockstar!sirius, bodyguard!james, etc) and i'll write a blurb!

now i would love to see your take on bodyguard!tasm peter 🤭

i got ur back!! (in this fic, their relationship isn't really specified but you can assume that they're dating but no one knows hehehe)

bodyguard!peter parker x fem!reader - mcu!peter / tasm!peter, unspecified

At a ball, everyone dressed up. No matter whether they were counts or dukes, princes or heirs, they were either in dresses or suits, and there was absolutely no exception.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hair down with a hand as you realised just how different you were from two months ago, and you weren't just talking about your appearance.

Your entire life had been flipped over the moment your landline had rang in your service apartment at three in the morning. You'd reluctantly crawled out of bed, an annoyed frown on your face. It disappeared immediately when you received the news that your father, who you'd never met, had been assassinated, and that you needed to return back to his kingdom, which you'd never even known existed, to become a princess.

Now, everything was surreal. Completely unreal. The crown may have looked glamorous from the outside, but it sure wasn't the same on the inside. Apart from a few exceptions, of course. Peter, for one, Beatrice, your father's old maid, and Queen Cordelia, your grandmother.

When you stared at yourself a second too long, Peter spoke up. "Are you okay?" His voice was soft, gentle, as it had always been when he spoke to you. He knew exactly what you'd been through, and you him, even though he wasn't supposed to have told you anything about his own life. You'd promised him you'd keep his story a secret: not that he had ever doubted you, anyway.

You nodded, giving him a bright smile as you turned around. He offered you his arm, which you gladly took, learning into him. "I'm okay," you whispered, more of a reassurance to yourself than to him.

When Peter was sure no one was looking, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "You're okay," he repeated.

As soon as you entered the ballroom, you were subject to bright lights, tall glasses of champagne, and maddening people you were forced to talk to and form relationships with under the instruction of your grandmother. You made your rounds cautiously, a welcoming smile on your face. It was completely false, though, which Peter knew, because he knew your expressions far too well. He knew you far too well.

You curiously watched as a man in all black and a hood covering his head entered the room. He was dressed unlike anyone else there; informal, casual. Peter mirrored your expression. The man eyed the room until he saw you, and he paused, frowning. He moved to pull something out of his pocket, and you stilled when you realised it was a gun that he was holding.

The guards surrounded him, holding him down, but he was quick to fight, and he pointed the weapon straight at you.

Two shots fired. That was all it looked for Peter to throw himself over you, shielding your body with his own. You clamped your hands over your ears, heart thumping, whole body shaking under his.

"I need backup immediately," he murmured into his hand, eyes scanning the crowd for the perpetrator. "Phoenix is under attack. The threat needs to be neutralised. I repeat, the threat needs to be neutralised." Upon a word of agreement from whoever was on the other side of the line, Peter's attention turned swiftly to you. He surveyed your surroundings carefully, and when he believed it was safe, he held out a hand to pull you up away from the crowd, all shaking in their crouched positions.

Peter held out a hand for you to hold as he pulled you up and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hurrying you away from the eyes of the crowd and into a small closet.

Peter sat you down on the floor, then turned to lock the door. He returned to you, his lips turning downward when he noticed your teary eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his expression soft.

When you let out a half-suppressed sob, he cooed at you gently, as if you were a wounded animal. "Oh, honey," he murmured, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay now, you're safe," Peter whispered, his large, warm hand cradling your head. You trembled under him, tears spilling from your eyes. "You know I've always got you, okay? No matter what."

"'t was so loud," you cried, the explanation lost in your throat, "and I was so scared." He frowned at you sympathetically, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. You paused, knowing he'd interpreted what you said wrong. "Not for me, though," you added.

He sighed, a pleasant sound that warmed your scratchy throat. "The Queen has her own men," he reassured you, "and Beatrice isn't even in the Palace today, sweetheart. They're okay."

"I wasn't only scared for them, Pete," you whispered, turning your attention towards him. "I was scared for you."

Your bodyguard looked completely shocked. You giggled wetly at his expression, then rushed to justify yourself. "Peter, you put yourself on the front line every single day," you whispered, your smile vanishing, "and I can't help but wonder if one day, you're not gonna come back to me."

Peter face fell. He tugged you closer to him, wanting to bury himself in your scent. "I'll always come back to you," he murmured. "No matter what."

You gave him a soft smile, curling yourself into his hold. Slowly, your eyes drifted shut, clearly exhausted. Peter allowed himself a moment to just stare at you, mesmerised. When your breathing evened out, he whispered, "How did I ever deserve a girl like you?"

100 notes · View notes

the-authoress-writes · 6 months

Text

If You Please

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Lawyer!reader

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: It’s not everyday that one’s best friend gets married, it’s not everyday that one is asked to be said friend’s Maid of Honor, and it’s certainly not everyday one meets a gorgeous, blond naval aviator.

Much less that one gets to dance the night away with the aforementioned naval aviator.

Warnings: Nothing, really, just a prerequisite creepy cousin, and a little teensy bit of cursing, but other than that, I don’t think there’s anything else.

Author’s Note: This is my first fic written for a fic challenge, and I am so grateful to @roosterforme for organizing this, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s songs—Alannah Myles’ “Black Velvet”, as well as to @bradshawsbaby, who made the absolutely gorgeous moodboard for this fic.

You are both incredible, lovely people, and amazing writers!!

Everyone should go check out their stories—go, seriously.

I’ve made liberal use of lines from the song in this fic, but it’s just so absurdly appropriate for Jake that I didn’t even really feel that bad.

It’s also my first time writing Jake, so I’m not exactly sure I did him justice, but I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone thinks!

One down, one to go!!

And so, here we go!!!

She looked at her best friend dancing with her new husband, a smile on her lips.

She couldn’t be happier for her best friend, Cristina Nievara, formerly Cristina Machado.

The wedding was perfect, and went off without a hitch, and now, as the Maid of Honor, she could now relax—the hard part was over.

She sighed, sipping from her glass of rosé, rolling her neck from side to side.

At that moment, as if the very air shifted around her, or some preternatural sense alerted her, she became aware of a masculine presence behind her.

“Everyone’s dancing.”

At the smooth Texan drawl, a smile involuntarily split her lips. “That they are.”

“Everyone but you, Counselor.”

She angled her head to look into the emerald eyes of Jake Seresin. “Neither are you.”

“Hmm—little old me, well, I’m just waiting for the right partner.”

Her mouth ran a little dry, and she sipped from her glass again, trying to keep her composure. “And who would the right partner be?”

He hummed lightly, “I have an idea; she’d be kind, gentle—sweet, even—but opinionated when she needs to be, absurdly competent, insanely beautiful, and incredibly sexy.”

She hissed a breath between her teeth. “That’s quite the criteria.

Not sure you’ll be able to find a girl like that.”

“Well, I’m thinking I’m looking right at her.”

She couldn’t help it, her head whipped around to face him, so fast she worried she got whiplash, for her to find that his gaze was fixed intently and intensely on her.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she swallowed reflexively. “You sure you’re looking right?”

Jake made a show of looking at her up and down, his gaze somehow respectful despite the intensity she could see in his eyes. “I know I’m looking right.

Would you like to dance, Counselor?

Only if you please, though.”

She huffed a chuckle, shaking her head. “Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”

And she set her glass down, before placing her hand into his outstretched one.

As Jake led her to the dancefloor, she mentally looked back—a month ago, never in a million years did she imagine that she’d be dancing with this man.

One month earlier…

She had no idea how Cris had managed to rope her into this.

But that wasn’t completely the truth; actually, she did.

Her best friend, Cristina Machado, was getting married to her fiancé, Gabriel Nievara, in her and Gabriel’s hometown of New Orleans.

And of course, Cris had to have her best friend as her Maid of Honor.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Cris, on the contrary, she’d do anything for that woman, they were each others’ ride-or-die since college, but it was moments like this, where she was currently being hit on by Cris’ creepy cousin, Marco, that almost made her reconsider.

And this was only a family and friends get-together at the large Machado family home a month before the wedding.

Marco was going on and on about how much money he made as a real estate agent, and she had been trying to get out of this conversation repeatedly, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

If she had more energy, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him off, but she had just come from a too-long deposition (literally throwing her dress on after), and her attitude was habitually completely different from the shark she had to be as a lawyer and in courtrooms, like a coat she put on, as a way of keeping her work separate from her personal life.

At this point, she was debating on dissociating from exhaustion, or looking for a way out, any way out—she was even debating the merits of just running away, and locking herself in the bathroom, which was looking more and more appealing by the second—when a drawling voice proclaimed, “There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

She turned and saw a vaguely familiar dark blond-haired man striding towards her, looking rather like something out of a grocery store romance novel, with his movie star-blinding smile, in a pair of dark jeans, and a thin jacket over a henley, Wayfarers tucked into the collar.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I—I just got caught up with Marco,” she beamed, relief coursing through her.

“Well, uh, Cris wants to talk to you, asked me to come get you,” he nodded.

She latched onto that like a drowning woman. “Oh, I better go then, Maid of Honor stuff, you know—it was a pleasure talking with you, Marco, hopefully I’ll see you around,” she said, all in one breath, as she backed away, before immediately turning to follow her savior.

She blew out a breath, running a hand through her hair. “So, Cris wanted to talk to me, right?”

He clicked his tongue, glancing back to Marco, now on the prowl for his next hapless victim, “Not really, I just saw you looking like you would rather the Good Lord struck you dead then and there rather than continue talking with Marco.

But then again, most people tend to look like that when they talk with him.

So I decided to rescue you.”

She blinked. “Oh—well—thank you so much for the assist.

That was pretty good back there.”

“Not a problem, I’m used to coming in clutch.

And I am very good,” he winked, which made her huff a laugh as she fought the urge to tug the collar of her dress—how did it seem to get two or three degrees warmer just then?

He continued, sticking out his hand, “I’m Jake, Jake Seresin.”

She reciprocated the gesture, telling him her name, to which Jake replied, “Mmm, pretty name for a pretty girl.”

She rolled her eyes, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Can’t help it if it’s true,” he smirked.

God, why was it so hot?

Even for New Orleans, November had absolutely no right being this hot.

“So, uh, how do you know Cris?” she blurted, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Through Javy,” Jake replied, referring to Cris’ older brother, “we—we’re both in the navy, but I’ve known the Machados for almost fifteen years,” he finished, almost bashfully.

At that moment, it clicked for her who Jake was; she’d seen him in the Machado Christmas photo for several years. “I know Javy’s a pilot, so, are you—”

“We prefer the term naval aviator—but yes, we both fly F-18s,” he finished, a somewhat smug and proud look on his face.

“Fighter jets, huh?

You any good?”

At this, he looked indignant. “‘Any good’?

I graduated number one in my TOPGUN class, you are looking at one of the best fighter pilots in this country.”

“Okay,” she nodded, a chuckle escaping her as she ducked her head, “my sincerest apologies.”

When she looked back up, she saw him turn to face the deck, rubbing the back of his neck, the stone on the ring on his right middle finger catching the light.

“Uh, apology accepted,” he murmured. “And er, Cris is up there on the deck if you wanted to talk to her anyway,” he gestured, turning to face her again.

Well, her romance novel moment was nice while it lasted.

“Ah, I know when I’m not wanted,” she nodded.

“No,” Jake literally yelped, garnering several glances, which made him rub the back of his neck again, “I mean, no, it’s, it’s not like that, I just thought that you might want to be around friends, not a random stranger.”

“Well, I’d hardly call you a random stranger—you did save me from Marco, so I’d say that at least puts you firmly in acquaintance territory,” she deadpanned.

An honest to God guffaw escaped him, and she couldn’t help but note the way it made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

When he got control of himself again, he breathed, “In that case, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Same here.”

Silence soon fell over them, but strangely, she didn’t feel it was in any way awkward—it felt almost easy, despite the inexplicable rising tension which she could feel beginning to draw tightly.

“Jerk!!!”

She whipped her head in the direction the call had come from, grinning when she saw the jumping figure of Cris, on the deck, as Jake said, who was waving her hand, beckoning her over.

“Bitch!!!” she eagerly called back, replying with the matching nickname she had for Cris, which the latter always joked Supernatural stole from them.

“Huh… so it is true, girls call each other that,” she heard, and she turned to see Jake watching her with a grin on his face.

“It’s a thing we have,” she brushed off, knowing that others might find that strange.

“Hey, no judgment here—I call my wingman Chicken or Big Dick.”

That actually made her splutter. “I’m going to need an explanation for those nicknames next time.”

He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite pin down. “‘Next time’, huh?

You uh, looking forward to a next time?”

“Yeah, if only to get an answer for why those nicknames for your wingman,” she breathed. “You’re going to be around—for the wedding, right?”

She tried not to sound too hopeful.

“I’m thinking I will be, and I think for the in between,” he stated, seriously.

“Okay, so I guess I’ll see you around, then.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” and he warmly nodded in a way that made her oddly think that if he were wearing a Stetson, he’d be tipping it to her, before going off towards the grill which was currently being manned by Mr. Machado.

She exhaled sharply, then began to ascend the stairs to the top of the deck, where she was immediately intercepted by Cris.

“I see you met Jake,” Cris grinned.

“Yeah, I did, it’s nice to finally meet the odd man out on your guys’ Christmas card,” she breathed, trying to keep her tone light.

“Mm-hmm,” Cris replied, an odd glint in her eyes. “You two looked… cozy.”

“I—he saved me from Marco, and I was making conversation, you know, but he was nice; a little cocky, but nice,” she replied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uh-huh.”

That glint was unfortunately still present in Cris’ eyes, and she lightly shoved the other woman in the shoulder. “It’s not like that, you—you are just… projecting because you’re so stupid happy with Gabriel.

We literally had one conversation, for God’s sake.”

Her best friend poked her in the arm, “‘One conversation’ was how it started for me and Gabe.

And I’m not projecting, you and Jake looked very comfortable together.

And for another thing, you cannot tell me you did not notice how hot he is.”

“Cris!” she hissed, glancing around to see if Gabriel was around. “You are engaged!”

“I am an engaged woman, but I can admit when a man is hot as hell.

And Jake Seresin is hot as hell,” Cris stated, raising her eyebrows, looking expectantly at her.

At first, she just stared, not sure what Cris wanted from her, but when it clicked, she sighed, “Seriously?”

“Admit it.”

“I—” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “I—w—oh, fine.

Jake is hot.

Happy?”

“Very.”

And with a smile, Cris practically bounced over to the other side of the deck.

“Cris! Cris!” She hurried after her best friend, knowing the other woman was undoubtedly planning something. “What are you planning?” she called, soon catching up.

“Planning what?”

“My bestie here finally met Jake, Jav,” Cris beamed, turning to face her older brother.

“Ah, that’s good,” Javy nodded, before also catching the glint in his sister’s eyes. “Okay, glint, you have a glint, what happened?”

“I had one conversation with your friend, Javy, and Cris is blowing it all out of proportion,” she interrupted.

Unfortunately for her, Javy’s eyes lit up in what was practically a carbon copy of Cris’ expression. “Oh. Cozy?” he asked, addressing Cris.

“Very,” her best friend nodded.

“Huh.”

In what was an unnerving display of sibling synchronicity, they both looked at her with identical glints.

“No.

Absolutely not.

Whatever you two are planning, no.”

“What makes you think we’re planning anything?” Javy protested.

She offered them a raised eyebrow.

Javy sighed, “Cris wants you happy, I want my boy happy—you could be happy together!”

“No, I am not going to be matchmade at a wedding!

It’s a walking cliche!” she protested.

Cris and Javy looked at each other, some sort of understanding passing between them.

“Okay, fine, we won’t try to set you up with Jake,” Cris sighed.

“Thank you!”

That was a month ago, and well, if they weren’t going behind her back, and orchestrating things like puppetmasters, which was highly unlikely, she could only chalk the amount of times she’d been thrown together with Jake to fate.

She had been seated with him at every lunch and dinner they were both invited to, paired with him at every wedding-related event and activity, every friends and family outing.

And somehow, there was always one person extra in the outing, and somehow, Jake was always the one to drive her, and only her, in his rental.

If she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t going to complain, especially not when it led to easy conversations allowing her to see below the cockiness, to see and know Jake, and she definitely wasn’t going to complain when it came to the… very hands-on crash courses she received from him when it came to mini-golf and bowling.

She was only human, after all.

And now, after numerous dinners, wedding related events and activities, after getting to know and see him, she could honestly say that she was more than halfway in love with Jake Seresin.

But she was uncertain of where things stood with him.

Yes, he hadn’t looked once at the bridemaids and various women who’d been throwing themselves at him, but that wasn’t a guarantee of anything.

However, that didn’t stop her from taking pride in the somewhat dumbstruck, glazed way he looked at her as she stood there on the altar, his eyes only for her, even as Cris was walking in her very elegant and beautiful dress down the aisle of the church.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at her like that.

The next time their gazes met, Cris and Gabriel had just been pronounced husband and wife, Gabriel dramatically taking Cris in his arms and dipping her before kissing her, to whoops and cheers.

She couldn’t help the way her eyes drifted to Jake, only to find that he was already looking at her, and she swore that that was longing she could see in his piercing gaze, but she couldn’t completely determine the expression before she had to follow Cris and Gabriel out of the church, and from there, they hadn’t seen each other.

Until he asked her to dance.

Now, as they moved on the dancefloor, all she was aware of was him, the feeling of his arms around her, his eyes gazing into her very soul, making heat like fire dance along her spine—but it wasn’t like a wildfire, relentless and uncontrollable.

Rather, it was like a cozy fire on a cold day, one you wanted to just lie down in front of—getting closer and closer until the fire seeped into your veins, into the very marrow of your bones, into your very soul.

And wasn’t that more dangerous?

The filament of her mind that was still cognizant of things, dimly registered that Jake was leading her fluidly and elegantly across the floor.

“You’ve got moves, Seresin,” she said.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Enduring two years of cotillion and being pressganged into filling in for uneven numbers at Annapolis’ Ballroom Club will do that to a person.” He gracefully spun her before pulling her back into him. “You ain’t half-bad either, counselor,” he drawled in that slow, southern style.

“I too, bear the scars of cotillion,” she smiled.

That provoked a chuckle and a smile from Jake—and like it always did, that smile did its level best to bring her to her knees.

It wasn’t the obnoxious shark-like grin he had when he was being annoying on purpose, nor the cutting, sarcastic one he used when he was knocking someone down a peg or two.

No.

This one, which she’d only seen directed at her, was like his whole soul was smiling, and it had an innocence about it, despite the fact that at first glance, this man seemed made for nothing but sin.

“Well, in that case, you’ve got very graceful and elegant scars.

And I must admit, I’ve never had such a beautiful woman dancing in my arms before.”

She couldn’t help but scoff and laugh incredulously.

“What?” Jake inclined his head.

“I don’t know if you’re bullshitting me or being honest with me, because I somehow can’t believe that I’m the most beautiful woman you, of all people, have danced with.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “What exactly do you mean?”

“You—you want me to spell it out?”

He hummed, “Let’s just say this witness would like a little leading here, counselor.”

She laughed, before sighing, “You, Jake Seresin, are… well—more than a little bit attractive, and I cannot believe that there wasn’t more than one pretty southern belle in your arms.”

He smirked wickedly, “You sayin’ I’m hot?”

Flustered, she exclaimed, “O—objection—hostile witness!”

“Overruled, witness will answer,” he easily parried.

“Th—that’s not your line.”

He playfully sniffed, “I’m still thinking I’d like an answer, there.”

“You’re killing me here,” she breathed, wanting to duck her head and hide, but in Jake’s arms, there wasn’t exactly any place to escape.

Jake leaned closer, pressing her against him, clouding her senses even more, as he ducked his head to murmur into her ear, his breath warm against her neck, “But you like it.”

She looked up at him, blindly following his lead, placing her trust in him to not let her fall flat on her face, and whispered, “You’re trouble, Jake Seresin.” She shook her head, picked up the frayed threads of her wit and courage, and plowed on. “Yes, I think you are more beautiful than any man has a right to be.

And not just because of the way you look.”

Jake, who had been wearing a somewhat smug expression during her declaration, froze at her last sentence. “That’s new.”

“What?”

“Someone seeing more than a pretty face here,” he replied incredulously.

“I’d kind of have to be blind to not see it, but, I’ve seen what you’ve shown me—what you’ve let me see, and while I won’t presume to completely know you already, I… I like what I see; in every way.”

Some sort of emotion broke in his eyes, something the shadowed dancefloor didn’t really allow her to see clearly, but he murmured, “Dance with me?”

“We already are,” she smiled gently.

“I mean…” he strangely foundered, before continuing, “may I fill your dance card, counselor?”

Teenage her wouldn’t believe what was happening. “Won’t it be boring, dancing with me all night long?”

“Don’t care.

May I?

Only if you please.”

They danced through a more brightly lit area, and she saw the honesty in his piercing sea foam eyes.

In that moment, something told her that if she said no, she’d regret it for the rest of her life, leaving her longing for one more dance. “Well, looks like I’m yours for the night.”

Jake blinked, a rough chuckle escaping his mouth. “You are, huh?”

“Not—not like that—I—” she stammered.

He laughed this time, full and loud, “Relax, counselor, I don’t make it a habit of taking what I’m not given.

I was raised a good Christian boy, after all.”

“Didn’t even know the word good was in your vocabulary,” she breathlessly replied.

“Oh, don’t you remember, counselor,” he leaned in, voice dipping low, making everything fade into the background, “I am good—I’m very good.”

Her breath hitched, and he swept her across the floor, the two of them dancing the night away.

An hour and a half later, the night was wrapping up, and it was time to send the new Mr. and Mrs. Nievara to their honeymoon suite in the hotel upstairs.

She and Jake promptly got separated, eventually finding herself in the press of women lined up for the bouquet toss.

She personally disliked it because it baffled her how a literal bunch of flowers could turn a group of women into feral cats.

So, she was determined not to reach for it, no matter what.

Cris walked to the center of the dancefloor, and counted down. “Three, two, one!!”

In the space between one blink and the next, a massive bouquet of red roses was in her arms, and she couldn’t help but gawk.

Most of the women cheered as they dispersed—though some sent her dirty looks—while Cris approached her, beaming from ear to ear. “Thank you so much, Jerk, I don’t know how I would have been able to make it through without you.”

She clasped Cris’ arms, “It was my pleasure, Bitch.

Now you go get some rest with that husband of yours—” she paused, considering, before finishing with a wink, “or not.”

Cris just laughed, “You too—don’t think that I didn’t notice who you danced with—or rather, who you danced the night away with.”

She scoffed, but Cris whispered, “You do know the tradition behind the bouquet toss, right?”

“Cris—”

“I’m not saying you’re going to be walking down the aisle with him any time soon, but what I am saying, is let things play out, you never know.”

She stared at Cris’ earnest face for a beat, before slapping her lightly on the arm. “You’re so in love, it’s fried your brain.”

“I’m thinking yours is too.

Think about it.”

And with a final hug, all the guests cheered as Gabriel carried Cris out of the ballroom.

Soon after, she was hanging around Candice-Marie, the wedding planner, trying to help in any way she could, but the kindly older woman, with whom she’d been working closely leading up to the wedding, shooed her off, saying, “You go on now, you’ve done enough, sweetheart.

I can handle this.

You go enjoy the rest of your night with your handsome gentleman,” she winked.

She didn’t even have time to reply, or to be shocked, before she was swiftly left alone in the middle of the dancefloor.

She turned, blinking, seeing Jake slowly walking onto the dancefloor to stand before her. “So… looks like it’s just you and me, counselor.”

“Certainly looks that way, Lieutenant.”

He mock-winced. “What happened to ‘Jake’, I thought we were getting along so well.”

She couldn’t help her laugh. “I’m sorry—Jake.”

He fleetingly grinned, before turning serious. “So…”

“So… no plans for a… wild night with Javy?

Night’s still young… ish.”

“He can survive without me.

On the ground, at least,” he teased, inclining his head. “So it looks like my dance card’s empty.

I’m all yours.”

“Oh, are you?” she said, poorly concealing her laughter, at the way the tables had turned from earlier.

He looked at her, wondering what was funny, and she got to see his lightbulb moment. “I—I did not mean it that—I mean—unless—I—I mean—I’m—I’m just going to shut up, now,” he lamely finished.

“That was incredible and adorkable.”

“I’ve been called many things in my life, but never adorkable.”

“First time for everything, I guess.” The moment hung for a beat, before she continued, “Well, you’re in for a pretty boring night, then, because I am exhausted, and I am going to go up to my hotel room,” she sighed.

A frown creased his brow. “You live in New Orleans, and yet you rented a hotel room.”

“I am what, again?”

Jake clicked his tongue, an expression like he was berating himself on his face. “Exhausted.”

It was late, she’d had a couple of drinks (though that excuse was wearing a little thin, given that she’d drank them hours ago), so she allowed herself to be a little silly, and she whipped out double finger guns. “Star witness, here.

But… you can walk me to my room.”

His eyes lit up, and he extended his elbow in the old-fashioned way. “Lead the way, madam.”

They slowly walked out of the ballroom, moving towards the elevator bank.

It was a decent walk, and it was done in a comfortable silence, during which she narrowly kept herself from leaning her head against his arm.

When they arrived at the elevator bank, there was still a decent crowd of people from the wedding stood there, which made her groan. “This is going to take forever.”

“If you’re up for more of a walk, there’s another elevator bank up on the mezzanine,” Jake offered.

A despairing look up at him. “Stairs?”

“Stairs.

But you’ll be in your room sooner.”

She deliberated. “Fuck it—stairs.”

This time, she followed him up the grand oak staircase, wincing with each step—no matter how broken in a pair of heels were, at a certain point, they all became instruments of torture.

At the top of the stairs, she saw that there was blessedly, no one around, but the thought of walking one more step in her heels was a bridge too far, and she tugged Jake towards the mezzanine railing. “Wait, let me take these off.”

Keeping one hand on the wood rail, she eased the strap of her heel out of the buckle, when she overbalanced, and lurched forward.

Strong hands caught her to a firm chest, and she looked up into his verdant eyes, her whole being caught.

“God, but I really want to kiss you right now, counselor,” he rasped, his voice, pure tone draped in yearning.

“Technically, I don’t kiss on the first date,” she instinctively spoke, and she could see his gaze shutter as he began to loosen his grip slightly, when she drew him even closer, pulling him in by fisting her hand in the lapel of his black velvet suit jacket. “But… technically… we’ve already had so many first dates, haven’t we?”

It took him a moment, but she could literally see the shutters on his gaze being flung open, being replaced by a mischievous sparkle. “We have, haven’t we.”

“Hard to see a reason why you shouldn’t kiss me, in that case.”

He smiled, the innocence of his little boy’s smile contrasting with the smoldering desire in his viridian eyes.

The next thing she knew, Jake’s lips were on hers, and he was kissing her.

In a split second, the fire that had warmed her very soul, now rushed through her blood, consuming everything that wasn’t Jake Seresin, until the only coherent thought was of him.

If not for his arms around her, the deep, searching caress of his mouth on hers was enough to bring her to her knees then and there, his kiss a new religion.

The kiss lasted a moment, it lasted eternity, but she knew that from that point on, she’d never have enough—he’d always leave her longing for more.

The breath which so rudely surged into her lungs seemed like poor recompense for his kiss.

Jake looked about as wrecked as she felt, his lashes fluttering over half-lidded eyes, his forehead leant against hers. “An absolutely stunning, whip-smart woman who sees me and likes it, with a gorgeous smile and laugh—damn, I think I’ve found the reason my dance card’s going to be full for the foreseeable future,” he murmured.

A sound between a chuckle and a gasp of air slipped from her lips as a thrill raced through her.

“Only if you please though,” he added, a teasing note in his voice.

“I very much please,” she replied.

“Yeah?”

God, his smile—screw halfway in love—her heart was his through and through.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Now kiss me again.”

Jake chuckled, “Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”

He kissed her again, and in that kiss, forever laid at her feet, spread out before her.

What does it say about me that I know exactly what model Ray-Bans Glen used in TG:M?

😂

I did totally take the the “Jerk. Bitch.” interaction from Supernatural.

If you look at the nametags in TG86, below the names, you’ll see “TOPGUN 1”, so I’m going to assume there’s more than one TOPGUN class/session in a year, at least in the TG/TG:M universe.

There’s a headcanon going around that Jake and Javy were either tied, or one and two respectively, in their TOPGUN class, so I went with that.

(I headcanon that Bradley and Natasha were in the same TOPGUN class, and Natasha was number one, while Bradley was number two.)

I vacillate between Old Money!Jake and Working/Middle Class!Jake on a fairly regular basis, but for the purposes of this story, I went with Old Money!Jake.

Apparently, cotillion is still alive and well in Texas, so Jake having that experience is highly plausible.

USNA does have a Ballroom Club, although, like with most things in fanfiction, I might be taking liberties with the time of its establishment, because I don’t know when that got started.

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

#the defense department regrets to inform you your daughters are *ded* because of the navy(al aviators)#top gun rocktober #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #glen powell

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yoonsenji · 6 months

Text

Summary: Meeting your parents <3

˚₊‧꒰აTokyo Revengers.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Fluff/Crush/Warning.

character : Sanzu, Chifuyu, Izana, Mikey, Emma,

Sanzu (Bonten)⋆｡° ✮

Sanzu is the number 2 of Bonten he's super duper famous and number one warning for the people. Sanzu is a man who slept with any ladies he lay his eyes on, he was the boogie man. Every parents worst nightmare in short.

Sanzu knows how strict your parents are from the way you dress around them. He doesn't like that his princess was listening to someone who isn't him.

He used to sneak into your room from open window when you're out, just to surprise you and steal something important to you of course.

The first time your parents see you two together... It was chaos, Sanzu was trying to flirt with you his hand on your thigh caressing it which lift your skirt up a bit, you were sitting on a concrete wall Sanzu inbetween your leg with an eye full of lust for your love. That's when your parents met him.

Your father bravely walk towards Sanzu thinking he was harassing you and punch him. Of course Sanzu was pissed off and pull out a gun and point it at your father, you stand infront of the gun and that when he found out this guy was your father.

Your mother would pull you by the arm as she was trying to drag you away since she was scared for your life. But Sanzu would yank you back into his arms as he hold you tightly one arm still holding the gun, at this point there was no escape for you, your father nor your mother. You guys were surrounded.

You somehow saved your whole family by literally saying that you'll date him, man... Your father is so ready to punch the soul out of Sanzu but if he does that you and your mother might die.

Ever since you dated Sanzu your life was bad and good to. Coming to your house whenever he please, making out and sex without any shame on how loud he was. Your father and mother hate this man with their whole soul.

Your house was protected 24/7 by gang members, Sanzu only wants you and if your parents show any big sign of disagreeing. To the basement they go, he's keeping them captive inorder to keep you in check and so that you'll never think of any other man but him.

Your parents are disappointed in themselves, their baby have to sacrifice inorder to keep them safe. There is sometimes when the whole family + Sanzu get along... It was on Christmas because Sanzu is always too busy to celebrate it with you... The only time they forget to hate him was when he was gone.

Your younger sibling/s love's Sanzu as well, Sanzu isn't the best person to be in a relationship with but the privilege this mother fucker can give you is... God tier privilege. Bonten control the police since y'know, no one is messing with non of your family since if you wanna live a normal life don't fuck with the number 2 of the most dangerous gang family. Your younger sibling/s would toy around with your man without a problem, Sanzu doesn't actually care that your sibling/s is using him as a prop for their shitty magic show, used him to test the kid makeup, he's up for tea party since Senju used to force him to have one and asking him for anything no matter the price.

"Chiyo! Chiyo! Tea party with me now!" Your sibling/s begged him as they were totally ready to have a tantrums if the rosy pink hair man say no. "Anything for my princess/prince" the rosy pink hair make reply jokingly, "Let's go! Sis! You better marry Chiyo!" The younger kid would yell as Sanzu would have the most smug smile ever. Your father is just standing there trying to make a plan to get rid of Sanzu.

Sanzu tried to win over your mother first, buying your mother a bouquet of flowers for valentine's day. Killing the lady who gossip about your mother since you're in a relationship with Sanzu, listening to gossip and talking shit with your mother together, hiring a maid for your mother since Sanzu doesn't want his Mother to stress herself. Sanzu actually treat your mother like how he treat his mother, any harsh word or if she ever get physical and hit him he'll take it without a single problem.

Your father still hate him no matter what, but he's at more ease knowing his little girl is gonna be in the hand of someone who could take care of them. He's trying so hard to be positive about you but everytime he thinks about it, he realised that Sanzu body count is too high and he's low-key hoping you don't catch a disease from Sanzu.

"Princess, stay for a while..." The Rosy pink hair male said as he wrap his arm around you as you sigh, "Haru... My sibling/s need to be wake up since my parents are out" you told him as a light chuckled escape from his mouth, "I know you two are in love but atleast have some shame around me" the little voice said that is definitely your sibling/s, "what the hell are you doing here?" Your eyes wide open from shock, your little sister/brother was sleeping beside Sanzu, "Got a nightmare last night... I tried to wake you up but Chiyo told me not to" your sibling/s told you as you start to realise Sanzu isn't that bad.

Chufuyu⋆｡° ✮

He's standing infront of the door of your house trembling and about one minute away from an anxiety attack. A bouquet of flowers in his hand as his cheek were tinted red.

As soon as your mother open the door the poor boy confidence leave your body completely. Politely gives the bouquet to your mother and asked to come inside, he's even more nervous to meet your father, the cold glance coming from your father was totally crushing Chifuyu dream of marrying you.

Since you weren't home Chifuyu was having a hard time trying to start a conversation, your little sibling/s asking the most absurd questions known to men kind, it felt like even your sibling/s was trying to break you two up by asking the most complected or embarrassing question, Fuyu would answer the most of the question without sounding rude.

"Why do you like My sister?" The little kid ask as Fuyu feel like this question could ruin his entire dream of marrying you. "Well... She's the only girl that makes me want to live forever with her" Fuyu reply with a nervous smile "Could been better" your sibling/s reply with the most bored look on their face as Fuyu blood left his body.

Your mother likes Chifuyu since she have saw his Fuyu treated you, he was respectful, protective and cute... Making sure you were okay and checking up on you anytime he wish, she's trying her best to convince your father that Fuyu is a good guy.

Your father doesn't like Fuyu for some reason the biggest being Fuyu is a delinquent. "So you're a delinquent...?" Your father ask him as he glare at the nervous boy "Yes..." Fuyu reply the poor boy soul was trembling inside... "Darling, Chifuyu is a good kid, he treat our Y/n like a princess" your mother whisper into your father ears with a wide smile. Fuyu thought your mother was literally taking shit about him.

When you finally arrived home you were soo happy to see the blonde boy in your house. You properly introduce him to your parents, praise and complement about the boy only seem to come out your mouth which make the nervous boy blush.

Chifuyu is the type of guy who is only soft around you and even in your own house he doesn't want to kiss you. Not because he's ashamed of you, it's that your father piercing cold glare at him make it harder to even breath your way.

Izana⋆｡° ✮

It's either it went horrible or the opposite.

Under the table Izana hand remain squeezing your thigh as he talk to your parents with the sweetest smile. Izana was good at looking pure and innocent, when ever Izana look at you to see you blushing he'll just have this sweet smile knowing that you were nervous but his hand would try to calm you down.

Izana would told them about how his mother out him at a foster home since she couldn't take care of him. Just telling him the most sad story of his to gain sympathy, he would purposely call your mother 'mom' and Apologise just for your mother to tell him it's fine. Guilt tripping is his speciality.

"Well my mother put me at foster home since she couldn't take care of me and my sister..." Izana told them as your mother eyes were full of pity and actually feeling bad for him. "Oh dear... I'm so sorry for you" your mother say as she look like she's about to cry "It's ok mom-" "I didn't mean to call you that miss... Just that you treat me like your son" Izana told as your mother took a deep sigh "You can call me mom to, I would love that dear" your mother was already accepting Izana as his son.

After dinner Izana would sit on your bed as you were still nervous, his eyes was only on you with a smug smile, "Princess, why are you so nervous?" His voice was low and calm as you look at him "Just that... My father is hard to get along with" you told him, Izana lightly pat your bed telling you to sit next to him and you did. He would suddenly pin you to the bed as his leg was inbetween yours, "Eh?! Wh-what are you doing...?" You ask him blushing red "Y'know sex is used to release stress, plus it'll be our first time".

In the morning you'll wake up fresh and way more better than yesterday, Izana was not in bed as you take a shower and went downstairs. Izana was cooking food by himself and it seem like no one is awake yet, he'll give you a kiss on the lip and offer you the food he cook.

Izana is very careful around your parents as well, he doesn't want his gang life to destroy such privilege he get from your parents. Shooting anyone who he thinks will rat out on him, Izana isn't afraid to kill anyone who gets in the way of his plan, it's either kaku kill them or Izana handle it himself.

Izana is a very busy man but always have time for you, he would take your sibling/s with him to gang meeting he only take them to the one where nothing would happen. He's spoiling your sibling/s and teaching them some fighting skill, but mostly Kaku would take care of them since he's the most calm and have common sense.

You're literally known as 'Tenjiku princess' you have no idea but you're under protection 24/7.

Izana treat your father with respect even tho sometimes he get pissed off by him, on the other hand he loved your mother and even call her mom most the time. If one approves the other one doesn't matter that's how Izana think.

Mikey⋆｡° ✮

Your whole family gonna have a new favourite when he come over.

Your mother treated him like his favourite son while your father treated him like how you'll treat a dumb kid. Mikey wouldn't shut up and publicly told everything your parents ask without any hesitation, he was being honest to which make your mother like him even more than before.

Of course your sibling/s knows about the 'invisible mikey' but they had no idea you were his girlfriend. They totally freak out and stay inside their room thinking about the worst scenario while texting their friends about it.

Whenever your mother goes out she'll always bring home a dorayaki pack them in a cute box and told you to give it to your boyfriend. She really didn't even buy you one and told you not to eat it unless Mikey told you to.

Every family outing your parents would ask Mikey to come as well since he's apart of the family... They're really hoping you marry him, for Mikey your family was a second family of his where he can enjoy life with his parents. Since his father and mother are never in his life he sees your parents as a mother and father figure, he's always eager to be around your family.

The whole Sano family and yours celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving together. It was really fun as well, Emma and you talking while Mikey and your sibling/s were doing their things.

"Baby... Your mother doesn't allow me to eat too much can you pursue her to get rid of that rule, please?" Mikey would ask you with a puppy eyes as you look at him shock "Mikey... When did you start listening to someone about your eating habits... Especially about your dorayaki addiction?" You ask him as lazily roll around your soft bed and groan. Mikey won't even listen to you if it's about his dorayaki addiction and for him to listen to your mom was insane, they have known eachother for one month only mean while you've known him for years...

Whenever he eat, your mother would put a flag on his food so he would eat it and if she forgets your father would put his favourite football/soccer team flag instead. Your mother would buy little flag for each food cause it's aesthetic, for rice she'll put Japan flag, for desert he'll put a dorayaki flag which she specifically ordered for, etc.

Mikey actually is very good at controlling his impulse around you and your family.

The whole neighborhood never mess with your family again cause their son (daughter boyfriend) is Mikey. Every parents with children around the age of 10-18 knows how scary this kid is, Mikey was always the main topic of gossip no matter the subject. But, not even thief that steal from everyone just skip your house since that's Mikey territory.

Emma⋆｡° ✮

She would wear the most appropriate and cutest dress/outfit she could find or go shopping. She doesn't want your parents to view her as a whore and she just think first impression is important.

Your mother and father adore her as she was super nice and soft towards you, Emma would hold your hand the entire time not to tight or loose. It was as she was ready to hold you tightly if you ever fly upwards towards the heaven.

Your sibling/s being a bitch would hate Emma at first since a white haired man told him that she had almost fuck a guy. They felt as though that Emma was using you to lose her virginity as she wish, at first they would lock themselves in their room and think of a plan to broke you two and make you hate Emma.

Whenever Emma come over your sibling/s would lock themselves up in the room and listen to the conversation between you and Emma sometimes. Your mother thought it was weird but she pay no attention to such small details.

One time you find a condom in her bag by accident and your heart almost sink to the bottom of your heart. But, it was weird since you have gone through her bag before today and it wasn't that long since Emma ask for you to give her a lipstick. So, how did a condom magically spond out of nowhere, and you realise your sibling/s. It's good to say someone got beaten up by mom.

Emma would buy fruits and flowers for you and your mother would put those flowers in a jar full of water, set it up in her small garden of flowers and whenever you miss Emma you'll sit next to those flowers.

----------- >

A/n- Some part got deleted idk why but I'm annoyed af since this happens to my other post and got to delete it.

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gyupinkys · 11 months

Text

VENOM- PART 1

a/n- I decided to split this is two because it's very long. I hope you enjoy!!

s.coups x dino x mingyu x the8 x afab reader

WARNINGS- MURDER, BLOOD, GUNS, GORE, unprotected sex, choking, oral, fingering, spit play, degradation (slut, whore), mirror sex, and hao being a bit weird but trust me it's hot.

WORD COUNT: 6.8K

You should’ve listened to Yeji when she told you to wear a jacket. The crisp night air is eating away at your face as a strong breeze flows through the edge of the forest where you sit. Before you is arguably one of the biggest houses you’ve seen. What's with men and having awful design taste? Do they think having a big house makes up for what they lack in dick size?

“No way this loser uses every room in this house” you say to Yeji through your earpiece.

“Y/N focus on your task and stop judging his design taste”

“Fine” you say with an eye roll. As you examine the fortress in front of you, you become suspicious. Where is his security? There are usually guards on rotation guarding his house every night. You purse your lips in thought.

“Yeji, where are the guards?”

“They seem to be switching shifts. I say you use this as your chance to enter. Go through the second floor window, Lia said she left it cracked for you.”

You stay light on your feet as you pace to the backyard of the house. You realize the window is much higher than you anticipated. You whine to yourself, you just got a fresh set of nails and now you're risking one of them being ripped off while trying to scale this wall. You grip onto the ledge of the window in front of you and pull yourself up.

“God, I need to work out more” you say to yourself feeling the burn in your arms as you finally manage to throw yourself into the second floor window. You land with a thud on your side and take a second to catch your breath.

“Y/n get up, you need to get on the move”

You get up and look around the room. It looks like this is a bathroom. You open the door leading you into a giant bedroom. There’s nothing but a bed with no sheets in the center of the room. You open the door you assume will lead you to the hallway and look both ways before you emerge. You head to the left knowing that’s where your target’s room is. You’ve been paid 5 million dollars to assassinate “Kim LeeSeok”. Your employer didn’t give many details about him, only that he’s involved in shady business and a lot of people want him dead. You don’t ask questions but you always get the job done.

You enter the third door on the left which, according to lia, is his bedroom. Lia got a job as his maid last week in order to scope out his house for you. You quietly enter his room and see him fast asleep. Well this should be easy. You quickly walk to the side of his bed and make sure your silencer is on your gun.

“Yeji, turn the camera on”.

Your clients require a video as proof of a job well done. They would hate to spend so much money just for the hit to not go through. As you press the pistol to his head you hear his bedroom window open. You quickly look up to see a slim man with a head full of bright red hair pull himself through.

“Jeonghan I’m in,” he says in a quiet voice.

You look at him bewildered. What the fuck is happening? You point your gun at him as he looks at you. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Who are you?” this mystery man whisper shouts.

“Who am I? Who are you?”

You don’t know what to do but Mr. Kim is beginning to wake up, so you point your gun at him. As you're about to pull the trigger you are tackled to the ground. You look at him with an incredulous look.You quickly flip him over and wrap your hands around his neck.

“Get off of me” he growls.

“You literally attacked me first! why the fuck should I get off of you?”

“I need to kill him before he wakes up, so if you’d excuse me” he says as he throws you off of him and jumps to his feet.

He pulls out his own gun and pulls the trigger but you hit his arm so the bullet hits Mr. Kim's bedside lamp. This wakes him up and he shoots up into a sitting position. You both aim your guns at him and fire before he can say a word. Two bullet holes sit in the middle of his head as he falls flat onto his back.

“WHY WOULD YOU SHOOT HIM? HES MY HIT” the red hair man yells.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S YOURS? HE’S ACTUALLY MINE” you yell back.

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?”

“YOU STARTED IT”

Both of you turn to the door as you hear multiple footsteps coming towards the room you're in. You both run to the window, pushing each other to try to stop the other from escaping first.

You jump through the window at the same time, as Mr.Kim’s security burst through his door finding him lying in a pool of his own blood. You land in the tree outside his window and climb down. You run to the left and the red-haired man runs to the right. Both of you turn to get a good look at each other before disappearing into the forest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You open the door to your apartment to a confused Yeji and Lia.

“So… what the fuck happened?”

“I have no idea who that guy is but he said Kim was his hit? I thought only one person could be assigned a hit at once? Maybe there was a glitch in the system?”

“Maybe” says Lia, “But who's going to get paid? You both shot him at the same time?”

“Oh fuck”, you reply. You rewatch the video and see that your bullets hit at the exact same time.

“What now?” you ask.

“I have no idea,” says Yeji.

A similar conversation was taking place on the other side of the city.

“What do you mean she was just standing there? Did you not clear the room first” Seungcheol growls at Minghao.

“Dude, I was nervous! You try breaking into a house while dodging 12 armed guards.”

“Cheol I told you to send me instead I knew Hao would fuck up” Mingyu says from his spot across the table. Everyone turns to look at him with a disapproving look.

“Mingyu you can’t even walk outside without being struck by lightning and sucked into a black hole. With your luck you would be shot before you even step foot in the house.” Minghao says in a deadpan tone.

“That's not true,” Mingyu says with a pout.

“Anyways, do any of you recognize this chick?” jeonghan says while everyone looks at hao’s recording on the projector.

“No, but I’m sure we can find her,” Wonwoo says as he pulls out his laptop.

“Well if you find her let me know, that's all for tonight” Cheol says and the group disperses.

Cheol sits down and sighs. As much as he loves these guys they sure do fuck everything up. He’s worked so hard to build a name for SVT in the mafia world and the last thing he needs is some bitch fucking things up. SVT killing Kim LeeSeok would’ve secured their place in the hierarchy but now you ruined everything. He rewatches the video and notes that you seem familiar. He pulls up his files of people of interest and finds an image of a woman who looks similar to you leaving one of the clubs he owns. He sends Wonwoo what he found and heads to bed for the night.

The next morning Wonwoo tells the group that there's literally no trace of you.

“There’s no name, no pictures besides the blurry one Cheol has, and I've asked around, no one knows who she is.”

“Maybe she’s not real and hao made her up” Hoshi says in a serious voice.

“Soonyoung we literally have a video of her” Dino says with a frown on his face.

“Oh yeah” Hoshi says with a giggle.

“Anyways, Chan and Seungkwan, why don’t you two go to the club we saw her at tonight. I wanna know what she was doing at Kim’s house last night.”

“Why do I have to go with Chan? Why can’t Vernon and I go.”

“Because you will get nothing done.” Cheol says.

“CHAN AND I WILL GET NOTHING DONE IF WE ARGUE THE WHOLE TIME”

“I already made up my mind seungkwan, you two are going”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man under you grabs your hips too tightly and his hot breath stinks. You’re currently in the vip room of some club downtown.You were paid 500k to kill this loser, you normally don't take jobs for such little but you figured you might as well, nothing beats easy money.

The man’s hands slide up to your ass and you decide you’ve had enough of this. You get off of him and stand behind the chair he’s sitting in, he probably thinks he’s about to get some kind of strip tease but, oh, does he have another thing coming. You pull your blade out from your bra and slide it across the man's neck. Yes, it's a messy death but it’s not your job to clean up anyways. You drop the knife on the floor, it’ll be a nice gift for the police when they come.

You leave the room looking as flawless as you did when you entered. You leave the club through the back door without a trace.

“Yeji, I'm out, you can turn the security camera’s back on.”

As you begin walking down the alley you hear commotion behind you. You dart to hide behind the nearest dumpster, doing your best to ignore the foul smell.

“Seungkwan I promise, I saw her in the club I know she left through here.”

“Well where the fuck is she, chan?”

“MAYBE IF YOU MOVED FASTER WE WOULD'VE CAUGHT HER”

You smirk to yourself at their almost couple like arguing. You peek around the dumpster to get a peek at their faces. In the process a giant cockroach emerges from your left making you yelp. This captures the attention of the two men and you realize you’re fucked. They begin to walk towards you and you decide to make a run for it. You run and hear their footsteps behind you.

“I TOLD YOU I SAW HER DICKHEAD”

You look behind your shoulder and somehow collide into a wall. Since when was there a wall in front of you? You look up from the floor and are faced with undeniably the hottest man you’ve seen in your life. He’s basically a bean pole, he must be at least 6’2 with giant muscles and wavy dark brown hair. He flashes you a smile and you notice his vampire-like fangs. He easily picks you up and holds your hands behind your back. He pulls you to his chest and leans down to speak into your ear.

“Sorry about that doll, you should really watch where you’re going”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and kick your leg straight into his balls making him hunch over and fall to the ground. The two men in front of you are stunned and you take this as an opportunity to punch, who you now know as Dino, square in the jaw. He looks at you with wide eyes clutching his face. You look over to the blonde man, Seungkwan, who holds his hands up in defeat.

“I really can’t deal with a broken nose, you win this one”

You smile at him and turn around. The giant looks like a kicked puppy pouting at you. You step around him and begin walking away.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later boys. You might want to take care of the issue is vip room #4” you say as you sprint away.

Seungcheol says nothing as he looks at Mingyu, Dino, and Seungkwan sitting in front of him, all their heads hung in shame.

“Explain” he says to no one in particular. All three start talking at the same time, making him sigh.

“OK, Seungkwan what happened”

“I told chan I saw her, but he didn’t believe me-”

“YOU’RE JUST GONNA LIE TO HIS FACE? Hyung, you have to believe me. It's the opposite, he was too busy dancing to Girl’s Generation to follow after her. In the alley behind the club she ran into Mingyu, and completely bodied him, like I would honestly be shocked if his dick still works, and you should've seen him on the floor whining like a baby “omg my balls, why would you do that” it was hilarious-”

“Let’s not skip you crying after she punched you, hyung he was complaining the whole time “omg seungkwan is my nose crooked? I can’t pull any girls with a broken nose, talk about cock block” it was pathetic.”

Cheol was honestly amused, “Why did Seungkwan walk away scotch free?”

“She took one look at this adorable face and decided to leave me alone”

This made the other three roll their eyes and Chan suppressed a laugh. Cheol sighed and asked if they completed their one task. Mingyu smirked and pulled out his phone. The tracker he slipped in your back pocket was on and showed your exact location. Cheol grabs his phone and furrows his eyebrows

“It says she’s been in a Mcdonalds for the last 6 hours”

“Maybe she’s really hungry,” Chan says.

“She took the tracker off idiot” Mingyu says as he smacks the back of Dino’s head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mrs. Choi, I’m stuffed, I really can’t eat anymore.” you sigh as you sit back in your seat.

“Y/N , you really need to take care of yourself, stop with all this shady business” she says from her spot in the kitchen.

“I know, Mrs. Choi, I promise I’ll stop soon”

“You know if you're interested, my son is very single.”

At this you laugh. The last thing you need is a relationship, men only hold you back and ruin your life. Maybe that's the daddy issues speaking, but as for now you’ve completely crossed off men.

“I’ll keep that in mind Mrs.Choi” you say with a smile.

“Here, he just sent me some more pictures of him and his friends”, She sits down next to you and hands you her phone. You see the familiar face of Choi Seungcheol with a group of people. As you examine each person your smile drops. What the fuck is seungkwan, dino, and that big dude doing with Mrs. Choi’s son? You look at her bewildered, afraid to say anything and unsure of what she knows.

“Why are you giving me that face? Don’t tell me you think he’s ugly”

“Who is this big guy on the left?”

“Ohhh i see you have taste” she says with a smirk. “That’s Mingyu, a real gentle giant. The sweetest man you will ever meet. But I’m sure he can put it down in bed” she ends with a wink.

You gasp. “Mrs. Choi STOP”

“I’m just saying what you’re thinking”

“You know what Mrs. Choi, I think I’ve had a change of heart, set me up with Seungcheol.”

“Mom, I’m not going on a date with this girl I don’t care how pretty she is”

“Choi Seungcheol, Do you want to make your mother unhappy? I'm waiting for grandbabies and all you're doing is fooling around with those friends of yours. I showed her a picture of you and guess who she had her eye on? MINGYU! I know you don't want to lose her to Mingyu.”

Cheol squints his eyes at his mother in frustration. “Fine” he says with an eye roll. “What’s her name?”

“Y/N” she says with a smile.

A few days later Cheol walks into a fancy italian restaurant downtown, he requested a VIP room because he couldn’t be bothered to deal with cringe couples fucking eachother with their eyes two feet from him. He takes a seat and checks the time. He was already a fashionable 15 minutes late, yet you're not here. Ten minutes later and he thinks you're just not gonna show up. Joshua’s gonna give him so much shit. As he’s about to get up to leave you walk in with the tightest black dress he’s ever seen. The middle is a lacy corset exposing your torso and your tits look incredible. Cheol loves to deny he's an ass man but when you turn around to hang up your jacket he can’t help but stare. His awe of your outfit quickly dissipates as he registers your face. He immediately pulls out his gun pointing at you.

“Well this is no way to treat a lady”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m supposed to be on a date with a “nice young man with a promising future” as your mother so kindly put it but here you are pointing a gun at me.”

“How the fuck do you know my mom?”

“Mrs. Choi and I have been neighbors for the past four months. Maybe if you visited your mother more you would know”

He looks at you with contempt, but lowers his gun when he realizes you aren’t scared.

“Now, Cheolie, why were your little friends after me? Seungkwan, Dino, and Mingyu”

“How do you know their names?”

“They weren’t very quiet when yelling at each other and your mom told me all thirteen of your boys' names. The red hair one, I remember him; Minghao really suits him don’t you think? If all things go bad here, maybe you can give me his number. From the way we fought I can tell he has good stamina” you say with a wink.

Cheol furrows his eyebrows and you can feel how tense he is. “C'mon babe don’t be so mad” you say with a smile, placing your hand over his own. He retracts his hand and looks you dead in the eye.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know about you, but I came here for a date, and maybe a little something else after. You are a very attractive man”

This somehow makes him even more mad but the waiter comes over and interrupts.

“You guys are a beautiful couple,” he says with a smile. “What can I get you tonight?”

“I’ll take whatever your most expensive item is and a glass of red wine. My lovely boyfriend here is a big spender.” you say looking Cheol dead in the eye.

“I’ll take the same, and can you give us a second alone here? My girlfriend here needs to suck me off to repay me for this meal” Cheol says with the most charming smile as your mouth falls agape. He slides the waiter $500 for his silence and looks over to you.

“Babe, save that for later” Cheol says and you immediately close your mouth. The waiter looks extremely confused and quickly leaves saying he’ll bring your food in 20 minutes.

“You can bring it quicker if you want, Cheolie here doesn’t last longer than a minute” you say with a smile as the waiter closes the door.

“You’re a bitch”

“Oh degrade me some more daddy” you say as you pull out your phone and snap a picture of him. He watches you type away on your phone and you turn it towards him. Your messages are open to a contact titled “Mrs. Choi” and he sees you sent her the picture of him with a message under that reads:

“Hi Mrs. Choi, I just arrived and not only has Cheol called me a bitch but he tried to push me into oncoming traffic, hit me over the head with this wine bottle, but he also tried to shoot me. You never mentioned Cheol was psychotic”

“LITERALLY WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR ISSUE” Cheol whisper yells at you.

“There's not one lie in that text, I know you thought of doing all those things to me.”

“I thought of doing a whole lot of other things to you, but now none of that will happen because my mom is going to call me and lecture me-”

His phone begins ringing in his pocket and he looks like a child who was just scolded.

Before his mom could even say a word he started, “Mom, she's a liar. As soon as I walked into the restaurant she started telling people I have chlamydia and they should stay away from me. Then she started cutting her toenails at the table and making the waiter clean it up, i’m telling you this girl has no home training, and to top it off she smells like she hasn’t showered in two weeks”

You gasp. “Mrs. Choi , you know I would never”

“I know sweetie, I don’t know why Cheol would make up such horrid things about you” you hear her say through the phone.

“MOM YOU'RE BELIEVING HER OVER ME? SHE SAID I TRIED TO SHOOT HER I’VE NEVER SEEN A GUN IN REAL LIFE” he says. You both look down at the gun sitting on the table and then back at each other.

“It sounds like you two are enjoying eachothers company, I’ll leave you to it” she says and hangs up.

You two look at each other and the room is silent. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, but you can feel the tears in your eyes and your attempt to not laugh. He’s doing no better, his whole face is turning red. Luckily, the waiter returns and places the food on the table completely ignoring the gun. He immediately leaves without looking at either of you.

You both begin to eat in silence, glancing up to look at each other every few bites.

“So…” you say at the same time.

“The weathers nice,” he says.

“Cheol, do you want to-” your phone getting a text message interrupts you. As you unlock your phone you see it’s from an unknown number. That's weird, usually your clients go through Yeji and she relays the info to you. You open the message to see your full name, date of birth, one of your many addresses, and a picture of you and Cheol. You immediately turn around but obviously no one is here, so how did this person get this picture? Cheol looks concerned and then his face falls. You assume he received the same message.

“We gotta get out of here” he says.

You both get up and he throws a stack of money on the table.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked”

“Of course you did,” he sighs. “Get in the car”

He unlocks his black sports car, which you can’t tell if it's a lambo or a porsche you're not good with cars. He calls someone as he quickly pulls off.

“Jihoon, someone is following me, send the guards to throw off their trail”

“Got it” the man on the other line says and hangs up.

“You should wear your seatbelt Cheol” you say as you turn to look out the window. He gives you a disbelieving look. “We have bigger problems than my seatbelt” he says but he indeed does put his seatbelt on.

“Where are we going?” you ask him, still staring at the buildings flying past you. silence.

“OK” you sigh and slump in your seat.

“You're not afraid I’ll kill you?” he says as glances at you with a smirk.

“Your mom knows you're with me, she’ll never forgive you if i'm not returned home safe and sound.” You say with a smug face.

“Touchè"

His center console begins ringing and he presses a button to answer. The same man from last time speaks, “They said no one is following you, I checked the security cameras from the streets around you and I see nothing suspicious and no one is tracking you but us. Just turn your phone off before you get to the house; I’ll deal with it when you get here” He says and hangs up.

“He seems very monotone,” you say as you turn to look at him.

“He is”

Cheol is a very, very, handsome man. Despite him acting like a child his strong jawline and gummy smile make your panties wet while melting your heart. He is one dangerous man.

You guys pull up to a giant apartment building in the center of the city. He drives through a private garage and parks amongst many luxury cars.You get out the car and begin walking.

“Are these all yours?” you ask?

“Some, but the most are the other guys”

“Other guys? You mean those friends of yours”

“Yea”

This stops you in your tracks. “You mean to tell me you live with those losers?” you say trying to suppress a laugh.

He turns around, slightly offended. “They are not losers, those guys are basically my family”

You resume walking and catch up with him, “I’m sure none of y'all get pussy”

He looks at you smugly but says nothing. He presses the button for the elevator and you two go upstairs in silence. You enter a giant apartment, presumably the penthouse. There are giant windows and a staircase leading to a second story on your left. To your right there is a huge kitchen where Mingyu is cooking something and another tall man with glasses is following him around like a puppy. Chan and a man with black shoulder length hair enter from your right. You smile at Chan and he stops dead in his tracks. He looks at you and Cheol and goes back to you.

“I really can’t deal with another broken nose, the ladies don’t like it”

“Chan” The man next to him speaks, “You haven’t fucked a girl in ages, trust me when I say the nose isn't the issue.”

Chan’s face turns red and he glares at the man. “Jeonghan I fucking hate you”

“You’ll always be my baby chan” jeonghan says while pinching chan’s cheeks.

Chan pulls away from jeonghan. Yet another man emerges from the same direction, this man being a full blonde. He’s tall and toned and you set your eyes on him.

“And who are you?” you say to him with a mischievous smile.

He instantly blushes bright red. “I’m Jun” he says with a dashing smile and you feel yourself melt. Behind you Cheol has a pout plastered to his face. He pulls you behind him glaring at jun who raises his hands in defeat, “Dude, I have a girlfriend, I’m not interested”

“Damn it” you whisper to yourself.

“Jeonghan, call the guys down,” Cheol says and walks up the stairs.

You take off your shoes and walk towards the kitchen. “Hello, Mingyu. Sorry about your balls. I hope they're doing ok. Maybe I can kiss it better for you.” He looks at you with wide eyes but his face slowly morphs into a smirk. “I’ll take you up on that.” he says. You steal a spoon and eat a bite off his plate. You moan at the taste, “Jesus christ that's incredible.” you say. “Hot and talented, what else can you do?” This makes him smile. He loves when people compliment his skills and not just his looks.

“And who are you, glasses?”

“Wonwoo,” he says in a deep voice.

“Hi, Wonwoo. I’m Y/N” you say with a smile.

You hear commotion behind you and turn around seeing ten men facing you. You scan their faces and Jesus christ why are they all so hot? The shock is evident on your face and for once you're lost for words. Cheol comes down stairs in a tight black vest, gold chain and basketball shorts. You look at him and realize his ass is fatter than yours… Well that's not fair.

“Guys we have an issue” cheol begins. “While Y/N and I were out we both received messages from someone with our full names, date of births, addresses, and a picture of us together”

“Wait, why were you two together?” a man with short platinum blonde hair ask.

“Hoshi, focus on the point,” Cheol says.

“That's a good question tho” says a man with fluffy black hair.

“Vernon, please don’t make this worse. You know what? Ok fine, we were on a date” Cheol says and sighs.

The room erupts in noise and a tall guy who looks very similar to jeonghan emerges from the group. He grabs your hand and kisses it. “Well, Cheol is a very lucky man to land a date with someone as beautiful as you.” he says with a charming smile. Cheol growls, “Joshua, Fuck off with this gentleman shit”. You look back at Cheol and see him boring into Joshua’s head.

“Ok guys lets calm down” you say. They all stop and look at you. “Ok, I think I know everyone's names except you two” You point at a tall man with orange hair and a shorter man with dark long hair. “I’m Seokmin, but you can call me DK, and this is Jihoon”

“Oh, so you’re the brooding man on the phone” you say with a smile.

“I was not brooding” he says with a pout.

“Ok so let me go over your names. Cheol, Jeonghan, Joshua, Jun, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Jihoon, DK, Mingyu, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan”

“Guys isn't it weird we always stand in age order?” Hoshi asks.

“Oh wow, I’ve never noticed that, '' Jeonghan says.

“Anyways, Wonwoo, Did you find out anything about who sent the message?”

“I wasn’t able to track the I.P address, I'm assuming it was a burner phone. Y/N, can you give your phone to Gyu, maybe he can see if he can find anything.”

You hand him your phone from your purse and he slips it in his pocket. “Don’t go snooping around gyu gyu, I have some explicit content in there”

“Can’t make any promises” he says as he looks you up and down and licks his lips.

“Ok so are you guys mafia orrrr?”

“Calling us mafia is kind of cringe but I guess you could say that. We're just business men who happen to partake in shady business," Joshua says.

“No, we're definitely in the mafia, I don’t know why they're so embarrassed to say it” Hoshi exclaims.

“So what are you guys called?”

“Seventeen, or SVT”

“YOU GUYS ARE SEVENTEEN? If i'm being honest, i thought you guys were old ass men.”

“No, we're young, hot and ready to mingle” DK says. You look at him with a judgemental face.

“Ok i'll shut up” he says.

“Wait, why are you called seventeen if there's only thir-”

“DON'T FINISH YOUR SENTENCE!” they all shout at once.

“Damn, ok. I’ll just assume Seungkwan killed the other four.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know you seem lethal when you’re ready to be.” This makes him smile and wink at you.

“Ok, that's enough. Hao, can you lead Y/N to the guest room next to yours. I’ll get you something to wear” Cheol says.

“She can just borrow my clothes Cheol” Hao says.

“No she can borrow mine,” Mingyu says.

“How about “She” makes the decision herself” you deadpan.

“Chan? How about I just stay with you?”

“Chan of all people?” Seungkwan says.

Why are they so mean to chan? You know they're definitely joking but they gotta let the poor guy breathe. Maybe that's the downside of being the youngest.

“Yes, Chan. Cmon lets go sugar” you say and grab his arm. He smiles at you and starts leading you upstairs. He turns around and sticks his tongue out at the other guys.

Chan's room surprises you. The massive space is colored in gray and black and covered in posters. The entire wall to your right is covered in mirrors. He notices your confusion and explains he likes to dance, so he uses it as a dance studio.

“That’s really cool, maybe you can dance for me sometime”

“Sure” he says with a genuine smile.

“My closet is over there you can take whatever you want and there are towels in the bathroom if you want to shower.”

“Ok, thanks.”

“I’ll be here when your done, I’ll shower when you're done”

You head into his closet and take one of his black t-shirts that's long enough to be a dress. You're not wearing some random man’s underwear so you’ll just reuse your own. You head into the bathroom and place your clothes on the counter. You're shocked to see a ten step face care routine on his counter. As normal as this is, you must admit you are extremely attracted to this; you love a man who takes care of himself. You quickly shower and head back out into the bedroom to see Chan laying on his bed. He looks over at you wearing just his shirt and his heart stops. He’s always thought you were beautiful, even as you were punching him in the face.

“Are you done staring?”

“Five more minutes,” he says with a smile.

“Go shower you idiot” you say as you get into his bed.

Ten minutes later he comes out with just a towel low on his hips. There's water dripping off his toned torso and you really didn't expect him to be so built.

“I guess it's my turn to stare” you say.

He blushes and shakes his head, going into his closet and coming out with just basketball shorts. “Is it ok if I sleep with no shirt?” he asks.

“Yes, that's more than ok”

He slides next to you on his bed and you both look at each other.

“Why didn’t you take the guest room?”

“I don’t like to sleep alone” you say.

“Can I ask why?”

“I’d rather not explain”

“That's ok.”

“Chan, Why do the guys make fun of you so much?”

“That’s just how we’ve always been. It's like how you make fun of your younger sibling. I wouldn’t change a thing though, I love them and I know they love me”

“That's so sweet. I hope you guys remain friends forever”

“Me too,” he says with a smile.

Chan’s phone pings with a text. Its Seungkwan:

DO NOT ANSWER: I bet it's so awkward in there, we know you don't know how to talk to girls. Does she have you sleeping on the floor?”

Chan shows you his phone and you giggle. “Do you want to prove him wrong?” you ask.

“How” he asks.

You lick your lips and look him in the eye. “Kiss me chan”

His eyes widen but he doesn’t hesitate. The kiss is extremely messy from the start, tongues clashing and hands all over each other. You straddle him and he places his hands on your hips. He begins moving your hips to grind on him and you feel him beginning to get hard. You break the kiss and attack his neck, sucking and biting making him moan. The sweet spot is right under the left side of his jaw you note. He lays you on your back and hovers over you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks.

You raise your hands and he slides his shirt off of you. You’re wearing no bra and he groans. He gives your nipple kitten licks and takes one in his mouth making you moan loudly. He begins sucking one and rolling the other between his thumb and index finger.

After a few minutes he begins kissing down your body, all the way to your core. He places a kiss on your pussy over your panties looking up at you to ask for permission to take them off. You nod and he peels them off with his teeth. He groans at the sight of your wetness, staring in awe. “You are so beautiful” he says and dives in. He takes one long lick and groans loudly. He immediately sucks on your clit making your toes curl. He begins drawing figure 8s with his tongue making you buck your hips. He slides his hands around your legs and interlocks your fingers to keep you from moving. He rests your intertwined hands above his head and sticks his tongue in your core pushing it as far as it can go. He lifts his head spitting directly on your clit making you let out a pornoographic moan. He has you whining and bucking your hips like a slut.

“Baby, you're gonna wake up the whole house if you keep this up” he says as he unwinds your hands and slides two fingers in you, thrusting them in and out, hitting your G-spot every time. You feel tears brim your eyes and you moan.

“Chan please let me cum” you say a bit louder than necessary but not faking your pleasure one bit. This has got to be the best head you’ve had in your entire life. He picks up the pace of his fingers and slips his other hand up to your nipples, tugging and rolling them.

“Cum for me baby” he says in a whiny voice and you snap. Your orgasm hits you stronger than ever and you see white. You're moaning and shaking , begging him not to stop. He fingers you through your orgasm until the oversensitivity hits you. He slides his fingers out of you and shoves them in your mouth.You suck your cum off his fingers and pull him in for a sloppy kiss, pushing your cum into his mouth. You break the kiss to gasp for air.

“Please fuck me” you say while on the verge of tears. You didn’t realize how long it’s been since you got laid and Chan is doing everything you need. He goes to get a condom from his bedside and you help him slip it on.

“Get on all fours facing the mirrors and stay like that, I want you to watch me fuck you like a slut” he says.

You immediately obey and arch your back for him. Locking eyes in the mirror, chan slides into you inch by inch, watching you melt. You feel so good wrapped around him, and you take him so well. He gives an experimental thrust which hits your G-spot perfectly making you drop our position. He pulls you up by your hair so your chest to chest and begins thrusting. He wraps his arm around your neck to keep you upright.

“It feels so good you can’t even follow my simple instructions?” He says as he picks up his pace. Your head falls on his shoulder and he grabs your hair to make you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Tell me what you see,” he whispers in your ear.

“You fucking me” you say out of breath.

“You wanna know what I see? I see a cock hungry slut who wants nothing more than to come. You can’t even listen to simple instructions because you're too cock drunk. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I edged you? Didn't let you come while I cum over and over? Would you cry? Or would you Thank me for fucking a whore like you?”

You throw your head back and moan. Who would've thought sweet little chan has a mouth like this on him? He presses you harder to him and you feel all his muscles pressed up against you. He feels so big inside of you stretching you open on his cock.

“Oh my god, chan don’t stop” you moan and you let the tears run free.

“Oh don’t cry now baby this is what you wanted isn't it? Wanted to feel me split you in half?”

“Yes channn this is what I wanted. I wanted you to fuck me like a slut”

He feels himself getting closer and he knows he won’t last much longer. He rubs your clit viciously, the overstimulation making it hard for you to breathe. He wraps his free hand around your neck and that does it for you. You cum screaming his name which pushes him over the edge as well. He fucks you through both of your orgasms and you both collapse in eachothers arms.

In the room next door Minghao never felt so disgusted with himself. Instead of going over telling you two to be quiet he started palming himself through his pants. When he heard you call yourself a slut he couldn't help himself. He reached into his pants and started rubbing his head. He was so conflicted, he knew he was being a sick perv but you were just so sexy and he knew he could do better than chan. He tried to match his strokes to chan's thrust imagining how he would fuck you. Maybe you would let him use his toys and blindfold you. This thought makes him cum all over his sheets, staring at his hands and softening cock in shame. He sighs and gets up to go to his bathroom.

a/n: pt.2 is a little more plot heavy, but has cheol, hao, and mingyu's smut. I'm really excited for it :)

#seventeen smut #svt smut #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu smut #minghao smut #dino smut #lee chan smut #xu minghao #seventeen fanfic

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crazyunsexycool · 2 months

Text

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 7

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!reader

Word count: 6.3k

Warning: mention of blood/blood splatter, gun use, gunshot, knife use, non-con touching (not Steve), SA, attempted rape, bruises, beating, angst, protective Steve

A/N: I really liked writing this chapter. Here we have a situation in which reader knows that Steve is in the mob but has never been in direct contact with any type of violence or anything until she is… We also find out who the woman that broke Steve's heart is (Are we surprised who it is?) We'll find out why later on so here we go....

Series Masterlist

“One more piece of tape.” You said as you held your hand out.

“Here you go.”

You place the tape on the last corner and then smooth it out to make sure it stays in place.

“Mom are you done?” Eli pops his head into the room you’re in. “They’re downstairs.”

“Yes, come on.”

You and Eli were two balls of energy. Everything was in place and Regina was more than supportive in your excitement. For the last two days you had been working on getting a room ready for Peter. He was finally being released from the hospital and considering how things were going Steve thought it would be better if Peter stayed for a while.

There’s voices coming from the hallway so you and Eli stand together and wait for the door to open. Steve smiles as he opens the door and steps inside. Peter is right behind him.

“Welcome home.” You and Eli yell at the same time. Peter, still being medicated, is startled before he starts laughing.

“Thanks guys. Did you help decorate?” He asks Eli who walked up to Peter and hugged him gently.

“Yeah. Do you wanna watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a great idea bud.”

“Eli, let Peter get settled first. Why don’t you go help Dom make some snacks for the two of you?”

“Ok ma. I’ll be right back.” Eli says before he’s running out the door.

“It’s good to see you’re back.” You said as you gave Peter a hug of your own.

“Glad to be back too.”

You smile as you help him get comfortable in bed. Regina helps by getting his bags from Sam and sorting out the items.

“Who’s she?” Peter nods in her direction.

“This is Regina, the newest member of our staff.”

Peter gives her an awkward smile and his eyes dart to Steve. He thought he’d find the boss checking her out but his eyes were only on you. Peter knew from the first moment Steve liked you but he was stubborn. He wouldn’t let emotions cloud his judgment. Steve had warned him to keep a level head and to keep feelings out of the business. But seeing him now it would seem as if his boss was going against his own advice.

“Nice to meet you. Let me know if you need anything.” Regina offers. “I’m going to get back to work.”

“Thanks.” Steve says as he moves so that she can reach the door.

You stay for a few more minutes catching up with Peter before you excuse yourself too. Bucky and Sam walk out with you.

“We’ll let you get settled but we do have to talk about what happened at some point.” Steve says.

“Of course boss.” Peter nods. “I’m glad you brought them here. Y/N and Eli I mean. It was just the two of them and with Eli as sick as he is Y/N needs all the support she can get.”

“And she has it now. Why didn’t you tell me about her and her son?”

Peter looks down at his hands.

“You’re not in trouble.”

“She asked me not to. Simple as that. Eli is her priority and I respected that.”

“You’re loyal, I like that about you kid.” Steve says. “You’re not keeping any other secrets from me are you?”

“No sir. Eli is the only thing I’ve ever kept a secret.”

“Good. Now get some rest.”

Steve flexed his hand, assessing the damage on his knuckles from the interrogation he’d been a part of. He hissed when the cold alcohol swab touched the open skin on his other hand.

“Don’t be a baby.” You murmur as you throw away the used alcohol pad.

You turn away from Steve to grab some ointment and when you turn back he’s lighting a cigarette.

“Hey.” Steve protests when you snatch the unlit cigarette from his mouth. “What the hell, I need a smoke. I'm stressed.”

“No smoking in the house.”

“It’s my house.” Steve argues back.

“Elijah can’t inhale smoke so either quit or go outside to the other end of the yard where he doesn’t play.”

“So now I can’t do whatever I want in my own house?” Steve glares at you but you aren’t intimidated by it.

You roll your eyes before taking his hand again and finish cleaning it up before moving around to the next one.

“I didn’t ask you to move in. You brought me here and told me this place was safe for me and my kid. Now if you go and trigger an asthma attack it won't be good for him.”

Steve huffs but agrees. He sits silently for a moment as he watches you.

“You know maybe I should get you a sexy nurse uniform.”

“And who would I wear it for?”

“Your only patient.” Steve says, matter of fact. “Do you think I’d let anyone else see you dressed in something like that?”

“I don’t know, I thought it was my choice who I let see me with or without clothes on.” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips when Steve’s jaw clenched. “What? Does it bother you that I could go out there and find someone and let him take me home?”

Steve stands abruptly and spins you so that you’re chest to chest with him. His hands lay flat against the flat surface of the desk behind you, his eyes darkening at just the thought of someone else putting their hands on you. Your breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze.

“Do you really think I would let that happen? Let some asshole touch you.”

“It’s not up to you, Steve. I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want. Why do you care anyway? Are you still just trying to get me in your bed? Is this why you’ve been so helpful, you think that helping me with Eli will get me to sleep with you? I won’t risk it. My job is much more important than a one night stand with you. Besides I thought we were past this you sleeping with your maids thing.”

Steve groans in frustration, his head falling to your shoulder. You smile and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“No. I’m helping you with Eli because I genuinely care.” He pulls back to look at you, his gaze much softer now. “Maybe I wasn’t clear enough before but I will be now. I want you. Not just for one night.”

“Well two nights isn’t going to cut it either.”

“You’re being a brat, you know that? I'm going to win you over.”

You laugh and get closer to his face, his eyes immediately going to your lips.

“Well I’m not going to make it easy for you.” You murmur and kiss the tip of his nose just as the door opens.

Bucky walks in, his steps falter as he watches the two of you separate yourself from one another.

“Hey Buck, right on time I was just finishing up here.” You say as if he didn’t walk in on the two of you in a compromising position.

“Uh-ok cool.”

You pick up the first aid kit and place it back in its spot within Steve’s office. As you head for the door you stop and turn to look at both men.

“How much longer is that mess going to be downstairs?” You asked about the nameless idiot that shot Peter.

“It will be cleaned up soon.”

“Ok, just let me know if you need me to take Eli out for the day. I don’t want him to see any of that.”

“Of course.” Steve smiled and you walked out.

“What was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve waves his hand dismissively.

“Ok? Anyways, Beck still won’t talk. We’ve tried everything.”

Steve sighed as he ran a hand over his beard. “We’re going to have to call either Lloyd or Loki in. But we’ll move Beck first. I don’t want that done here.”

“I’ll figure out where to move him to.”

“Thanks, I’ll make the call.” Steve leans forward and grabs the phone while Bucky heads back out.

You heard Steve’s voice before you walked into Elijah’s room. Almost as soon as you had moved in, Eli requested that Steve read with him at night before bed. You told your son you weren’t sure that was possible but in the short time you’ve been there Steve hasn’t missed a night. Although reading didn’t take long, all of the medication Eli was on made him sleepy. It didn’t stop him from fighting it and trying to stay awake for just a few more minutes. You lean against the doorframe and watch Steve tuck Eli in and turn off the lamp next to his bed.

“Hey.” Steve says as he walks out of the bedroom.

“He didn’t put up much of a fight did he?”

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “I think all of the excitement of having Peter here wore him out.”

You smile while looking back into the darkened bedroom. “I’m not surprised. He loved when Pete would come over and play video games.”

Steve’s eyes were still on you when you looked back up at him. There was an intense feeling of need between the two of you as you stood in the quiet dimly lit hallway. One that pulled you closer to each other. He cleared his throat and you looked away.

“I have some business to attend to at one of my clubs. Will you be alright here alone?”

“Yeah. Peter is sleeping too and I think Dom had a poker game. I’m just gonna enjoy a nice bubble bath before bed.”

Steve groans and closes his eyes. You bite back a laugh.

“Do you need a hand with this bubble bath?”

You smile and shake your head before starting to walk backwards toward your own room. “I’m good, thanks. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Tease.” Steve mutters as he watches you walk into your room.

****

Steve shook hands with his newest associate, Erik Killmonger. They had worked together before but this was going to be on a more permanent and lucrative basis. The two men were in the vip section with a drink in hand celebrating their new business deal.

They looked down at the sea of people dancing and drinking as they talked about logistics and expectations.

“Good evening gentlemen.” A sickly sweet voice called out from behind them.

It was a voice Steve recognized and immediately tensed because of it. He turned slowly, anger already rising within him. A glare was sent in the direction of the uninvited guest but she was unphased.

“What are you doing here, Sharon?” Steve demanded to know.

“I just came by to say hello, see how my old friend was doing.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Not my club and not in New York.”

She rolled her eyes and sat at one of the plush couches, motioning for a waitress to get her a drink. “I heard you were doing business and I have a proposition for you.”

Erik looked between the two and excused himself after mentioning something about someone catching his eye. It left Steve alone with Sharon although Bucky quickly and quietly joined them.

“So what do you say, Rogers? Want to make a deal?” Sharon asked as she batted her lashes at Steve.

“No. You shouldn’t even be in New York but I’ll be a gentleman and give you twelve hours to leave.” Steve nods at Bucky who moves and grabs Sharon by the arm.

“You can’t be serious? Is this because of Peggy?”

Steve tensed at the mention of her name. It brought back bitter and hurtful memories. He kept his expression unreadable though and looked back at the blonde.

“I’m a man of my word. I said I’d never work with The Carter Family again and I intend to keep it. I also told you that you have twelve hours to leave.”

Sharon pulls her arm away from Bucky’s hold. “It’s a shame you’re letting your emotions get in the way of a very lucrative deal.”

“Sharon-” Steve raised his hand to stop her from talking when she opened her mouth.

“Steve.”

“What Buck?” He looked over a Bucky, annoyed that he was being interrupted.

“We have to go. Check your phone.”

Steve pulls out his phone to find a few missed calls and texts from your phone.

Y/N: Steve mom needs help.

Y/N: Come home now!

Y/N: Please!!

Y/N: Answer your phone.

Steve immediately called you back but you didn’t answer. The urgency came from the first message that was obviously from Eli. He wasn’t sure how he missed yours and Peter’s calls but he left Sharon forgotten in his VIP section and headed back home with Sam and Bucky.

Eli and Peter were sleeping. Dom had gone to a weekly poker game with his friends. The house was quiet and you have wanted to take advantage of the bathtub in your room for a while. So that’s what you did. You lit some candles and added epsom salts and oils into the water. It was perfect. With some music playing softly in the background the only thing missing was a glass of wine. You grabbed your robe and headed downstairs with the intention of pouring yourself some.

It was while passing Elijah’s room that something felt off. While you left the door ajar it was opened a little too wide. Then there was a smell of cigarette smoke that bothered you. Especially after asking Steve not to smoke around him. You knew that request bothered him but he wouldn’t go do anything to harm Eli either. So you crept up to the door and peered inside just to make sure Eli was still asleep. You could see him on the bed sleeping soundly but the cigarette smoke clung in the air heavily. Since the room was dark other than the sliver of light that illuminated the bed you struggled to make anything else out.

You hear it before you see it. The deep inhale in the corner of the room. Then the lit cigarette. The person smoking takes a step out of his hiding place and you can barely make out his short slicked back hair and large frame. Your breathing stops as you stare at this stranger in your son’s room.

“Well what do we have here?” It’s almost a whisper but it sends an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

“Get out of this room right now.”

The stranger walked closer to you. He was tall and obviously strong. You were sure he would overpower you but he was a threat to your son. You’d do anything to protect him. With every step he took you took one back in the hopes of leading him out into the hallway.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing? Rogers must be treating you well if you walk around like that.” He motioned toward your robe which had loosened and revealed your bra. He licked his lips as he eyed you. “The kid might be a bit of a mood killer though.”

You wrapped the robe around yourself tightly and headed towards the stairs. He stalked towards you with a predatory gaze in his eyes. Before you could get to the top of the stairs he grabs the back of your neck, pressing his body against your. One hand wraps around your throat and the other starts roaming your body.

“That’s no way to treat a guest, Honey.” He whispered in your ear before sniffing your hair.

“Let me go.”

“Show me a good time and maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll keep you.”

He started dragging back into the hallway and opened the first door he found.

“No. Please don’t.” You tried to push against him in hopes of avoiding being thrown into the bed. But he was taller and obviously stronger than you.

“You should cooperate sweetheart. Maybe I’ll go easy on ya.”

You're thrown onto the bed. The robe you were wearing is now open, exposing your bra and revealing the shorts you were wearing. You cry and beg as your attacker moves to crawl over you, his lips find their way to your neck as he holds your hands above your head with one hand. His grip is hard and painful. The other he uses to keep your face still as he kisses you. He pulls back and smirks down at you.

“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cry.” He laughs as he moves around in order to undress you. In a moment of desperation you kick your feet up and manage to kick him in his groin. “You fucking cunt.” In his moment of weakness you kick higher this time and your foot connects with his face. He grabs his nose and starts cursing at you but you’re moving away from him.

You ran faster this time in hopes of getting down the stairs. As long as he was away from Eli you didn’t care what happened to you.

“Dumb whore. I was going to be good to you but now you’re fucked. When I’m done with you, you’ll never see the kid again.” He yelled as he followed you down the stairs. “Stop running or I’ll go back up there and shoot the kid.”

Turning to look over your shoulder slowly you saw the gun aimed at you.

“I really only came here for one thing. You see your little fuck buddy, Rogers, he has an associate of mine.” He says while taking a few steps down towards you.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Elijah creep out of his room. He stood there unmoving as he watched a stranger pull a gun out on his mom. You prayed he would go hide again and were relieved when he moved away from the railing.

On the landing that led to the second floor you stood looking up at the intruder. He takes slow deliberate steps just to show you that he was in control. Your tear stained cheeks do nothing to deter his attack.

“If you tell me where he is,” he pulls his phone out and shows you a picture. “I won’t have the kid watch what I do to you. I won’t sell him off to the highest bidder either.”

A door opens up at the end of the hall. He stops on the last step so that he’s hidden from whoever is there.

“Y/N?” Peter’s sleepy voice breaks the tense silence. “Y/N, I need some help.”

The stranger takes a peek around the corner and sees Peter making his way down slowly. You take his distraction and charge at him full force hoping to at least knock him down and get the gun away from him. Barreling into him, shoulder first, he falls back. It wasn’t so much your strength but catching him off guard that helped you. He groaned as he grabbed his head, a small amount of blood started to trickle from the apparent gash at the back. While it looked like it hurt it didn’t completely knock your aggressor out.

“Peter, get back in your room. Call Steve or anyone tell them to get back now.” You yelled before running down the stairs with the gun in your hand.

Not even hitting his head against a few steps slows down your attacker. It forces you to head into the kitchen instead of outside. You turn on your heel and hold the gun up, pointing it at him.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot you.” You say.

“Really? I don’t think you’ve ever used a gun before.”

“First time for everything.” You reply. “On your knees.” The gun is still pointed at him but it shakes almost violently in your hands.

He smirks and takes another step closer. The gun goes off but it hits the floor. It makes your hands shake even more.

“Don’t. Move.” You say through gritted teeth.

There’s movement behind him and then Peter is telling you to move. The intruder turns around to face Peter knowing you won’t be able to shoot. He still gets shot once in the shoulder and in each kneecap forcing him to the ground. When you stand from behind the kitchen island you see Peter standing with a gun in his hand, suppressor attached.

“Are you ok?” He asks while keeping his gun aimed down at the intruder.

“I think so.” You say with a shaky voice while looking him over. “You’re bleeding.”

“I think I ripped my stitches.”

“I’ll get you cleaned up. Let me just-“ you look around unsure of what you can use to restrain him. “I’ll be right back.” You run down the steps to the basement on wobbly legs.

“We can use this.”

You say as you get to the top stair with some rope. Peter nods but grimaces at any slight movement.

“What do I do?” You look up at Peter.

“Y/N, Peter?”

“In the kitchen.” You yell out.

Coulson’s quick steps echo throughout the otherwise quiet home. He stares at the scene in front of him bewildered for just a moment.

“Give me the rope.” He says and moves into action.

You help Peter get to the couch. “I’m gonna get the first aid kit ok? I’ll be right back.”

“Hey,” he catches your hand. “Go check on Eli first, this can wait a few minutes.”

He saw the relief in your eyes and the way your tense shoulders slumped.

You run up the stairs and head directly to his room where you find the door locked.

“Elijah, baby it’s me.” You knock. “Baby please open the door. It’s ok.”

The door opens and Eli’s crying face comes into view.

“Mom.” He rushes to you, burying his face in your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It’s ok, it’s safe now. Are you ok?”

You feel him nodding against you. The only thing you can do is hug him back and assure him that he’s ok. After a few minutes you pull away, kneeling to get a better look at him and make sure there are no marks on him.

“Why was that man here? Why did he want to hurt you?”

“I don’t know, baby.” You brush away his tears. “Let’s go sit.”

Eli takes your hand and walks back into his room. You aren’t sure if it’s him shaking or you but it’s almost uncontrollable.

“I tried to call and text Steve but he didn’t answer.” He holds out your phone.

“You did a good job, come here.”

You take your phone and call Steve immediately but there’s no answer. Then you call Sam and Bucky and still nothing. You send them all a few texts and you start to worry that they have been hurt. Dom answers right away and he tells you that he’ll be back in a few minutes. After that you sit against the headboard and bring Elijah to sit on your lap and you hold him tight like when he was a baby. The only thing you could do now was wait.

Steve flew through traffic in order to make it back as fast as he could. His mind raced as he tried and failed to get an answer from you. He came up with the worst case scenarios of what could be happening. All Steve hoped was that you and Eli were ok no matter what the issue was. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to either of you.

Sam and Bucky weren’t far behind when Steve finally pulled into the driveway of his mansion. Immediately he knew something was way off. The normal guards that were posted around the perimeter were missing. He grabbed his gun as he stepped out of his car. When he looked backed, Sam and Bucky also had their guns out.

Steve rushed to the door, opening it without warning. His gun was up as he walked in with Sam and Bucky behind him. They walk into the living room only to find Peter sitting back on the couch, his hand putting pressure on the area where he had been stitched up previously. Dom was fussing over him trying to help stop the bleeding.

“Peter? What happened?” Steve asked, getting the attention of the semiconscious young man.

“There’s this guy. He broke in.”

“I have him down in the room.” Coulson stepped out of the kitchen. “I got an alert from the security alarm. I got here just as Peter shot him. It seems he had his eyes set on Y/N.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs.” Peter answers. “With Eli.”

Steve looks back and Bucky lifts his chin up towards the stairs.

“We’ll go see who this idiot is.”

“Get Peter medical help and find out what happened to the guards.”

“Clint and Nat are on their way.” Coulson says. “I’ll have them take Peter in.”

Steve nods and heads upstairs. He takes two at a time until he reaches the third floor. His heart is beating out of his chest as he walks up to Eli’s room, worried about the state he would find you in. He knocks but doesn’t get an answer so he opens the door and takes a peek inside. The cigarette smoke still lingers but he doesn’t find either you or Eli. Steve walks out and heads to your room, knocking a bit more harshly than he intended too.

“Y/N? Can you open up?” Steve calls out. After a minute the door opens and your tear stained face peeks out.

“Steve.” You whimper when you finally see him.

“C’mere, baby.” Steve pulls you into his chest. He feels your whole body trembling and his arms tighten around you. “Are you ok? Is Elijah?”

You nod against his chest and begin to sob now that Steve was there.

“It’s over. You’re safe.” Steve murmured.

He kept as calm as he could but he felt nothing but rage. Not only did someone think they could just walk into his home without any repercussions, they also terrorized you. There would be hell to pay once he was downstairs to get the necessary information.

“Do either of you need to see a doctor?”

“No. We’re ok, just shaken up a bit.” You reply as you finally look up at him again.

“Alright. What about you? Are you sure you’re not hurt? Did he do anything to you?”

You avert your eyes and Steve’s stomach drops.

“What did he do? Did he touch you?” Steve’s voice hardened. There was this underlying and unsettling sharpness to it.

You nodded. Steve took a deep breath while he slowly pulled away and turned his back towards you. He ran a hand over his beard as he thought about all the ways he was going to rip the asshole that dared touch you apart.

Steve turned back to look at you. “Did he force hi-“

“Tried to. I got away from him before he could.”

“Ok.” Steve takes a deep breath. “C’mon let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”

Once Steve realizes that you’re asleep he leaves the room quietly. He walks down to the first floor to find out what the hell is going on in his own home. There will be hell to pay for this, not just for the disrespect of breaking into his house but for what you went through.

“Update, now.” He demands.

“The idiot that broke in is none other than Jack Rollins. Apparently he was looking for Beck when he stumbled upon Eli’s room.” Bucky says. “He’s a sick twisted bastard from what Peter told me he heard.”

“Did he say anything else?”

Bucky shakes his head. Steve starts rolling up his sleeves. He heads for the basement door with Bucky on his heels.

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you think?” He growls but continues toward the basement door.

“Steve, think about this.” Bucky says. “We could get information out of him if we do this right.”

Steve stops and turns to look at Bucky and the rest of his team.

“He put his hands on Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about information.”

Bucky’s eyes harden at the new information.

“I’ll come with you.”

The two men walk down to the basement and into the soundproof room. Sam was standing over Rollins, who already had a few cuts and scrapes along with the gunshot wounds. Steve doesn’t waste any time at all as he connects his fist with Rollin’s jaw. The man, who had been tied to a chair, falls backwards.

“I’m guessing that pretty little thing you have upstairs told you about our time together.” Rollins chuckles. “She was real sweet.0

Steve lands a few more hits before he stretches his hand out behind him. Bucky already knows what Steve wants and hands him a knife. Steve inspects it carefully before looking down at the man below him.

“Oohh should I be-Aahh.” Rollins screams when Steve plunges the knife into the bullet wound on his shoulder. Blood splatters into Steve’s face but it doesn’t deter him.

****

When Steve finally stopped his assault he was covered in blood. Steve’s anger hadn’t subsided even as he walked back into the kitchen. The others were gathered around the island talking about what happened when he joined them.

“Has anyone checked in on Y/N?” He asked.

“Still sleeping boss.”

He nods and starts walking out. “I’ll be back in about 10 minutes. I want to know everything when I come back.”

Steve goes up to his room to shower and change quickly. Then he heads back down to the kitchen. Dom has a cup of coffee ready for him. The sun was just starting to light up the sky. Steve grabs his cup and takes a sip.

“What do we have?” He asks as he takes a seat at the kitchen table.

“Rollins killed some of the guards around the perimeter, enough to slip by undetected. He hacked the security system. He couldn’t completely deactivate it but he delayed the notification Coulson would get.” Clint said.

“He was looking for Beck. But he won’t say anything else.”

“What should we do now?” Bucky asks.

“First I want him out of the house. Get him some medical attention, I’m not done with him just yet.” Steve orders. “Let’s double up the guards. Let’s have Jensen double check the security system and upgrade whatever needs to be upgraded.”

“How is Peter doing?”

Steve and the rest of the group turn to see you standing at the entrance to the kitchen. Even though you slept most of the night you look exhausted. Eyes are red and slightly swollen as if you’d just been crying.

“Peter’s fine. He just ripped some stitches, he’s in his room sleeping.” Nat tells you.

You nod as Dom walks over to you.

“Want some coffee, Mia Cara?”

You shake your head. Dom opens his arms for you and you step into his embrace. The older man pats your back in a comforting manner.

“You’re safe now, Mia Cara. We won’t let anything like this happen again. You hear me?” He reassures you.

You just nod against his chest. Everyone silently shuffles out of the kitchen. Dom places a chaste kiss on your forehead and leaves, giving you and Steve some privacy.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks as he gets up and moves towards you.

You shrug. Other than being worried about Eli you were numb to the whole situation.

“Baby, look at me.” Steve says softly. He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls up so that you have to look at him.

You’re fighting back tears for what felt like the millionth time.

“Tell me what you need?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about some time away from here? We can get away for a weekend and take Eli somewhere fun. What do you say?” Steve offers.

It angered him all over again to see you like this. A shell of who you really are. Your arms wrapped around yourself. Steve didn’t like seeing you down like this although it was completely understandable.

You shrug again in response and he sighs.

“Why don’t you go rest for a little bit longer and I’ll have Dom make you something and bring it up.”

“I can’t.” You mumble as you look around the room.

“Why?”

“I have to work.”

“You’re joking right? You aren’t going to be working today. Regina will be in any minute now, she’ll do what she can. You worry about taking care of yourself and Eli.” Steve says as he leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room.

In the distance you hear the door that is normally used by the house staff to come in and out.

“See, that's probably Regina right now. I’ll talk to her.”

You gasp when Regina appears in the doorway. She’s sporting a black eye, busted lip, bruises around her throat and she’s holding her side as if it hurt. You rush over to her to make sure she’s ok.

“What happened?”

“The-these men they-they broke into my house early this morning.” She sobbed before hiding her face in your shoulder.

“Fuck. Bucky, Sam.” Steve yells for them. The two men rush out of the hallway that leads to Steve’s office.

“What happened?” Bucky asks once he sees Regina crying.

You tell them what she had just said since she couldn’t control her crying. Both men look back at Steve, the same anger in their eyes. Dom and Coulson soon join the others.

“Do you know who did this?” You ask her as you guide her to the couch.

“No. I’ve never seen them before. I was sleeping when they broke in.” Regina sniffles.

“Did they say what they wanted?”

Regina nods. “They told me that I had to get whatever information that I could on you and report back to them.”

“I have a few questions.”

“Ask away.”

“How did they know you work for me?” Steve asks and you look between him and Regina.

“I don’t know, maybe they had been following me?”

“Why tell me?”

Regina swallows thickly as tears well up in her eyes again. “Well everyone here has been so nice to me, and this is the first job I don’t have to get almost naked to get money for,” She sighs, wincing due to her injured ribs. “I didn’t want to ruin what I had here. But my grandma, she’s in a nursing home and they had pictures of her. They said that they’d hurt me and make her watch.”

“They said the same about me and Eli.”

“Wait what?” Regina looks at you confused.

“Someone broke in last night.”

“What is happening?” Regina asked. She was scared and so were you. The only difference was that you knew Steve would make things right.

“I don’t know but I’m going to find out. In the meantime you can’t go back to your place.” Steve tells her. “We’ll have someone pick up some clothes for you and have a doctor look you over. Do you think you could recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Maybe. Oh wait,” Regina grabs her phone. “Would a video help?”

“You have a video of them?”

She looks at Bucky and nods. “I installed a doorbell camera and a camera in the living room. Here, you can definitely see their faces.”

“You have a camera in your living room?” Sam asks suspiciously.

“I live alone and I’m single. There have been some break ins around the neighborhood. I was trying to protect myself.” She says as she hands the phone over to Bucky.

Sam and Steve huddle around Bucky to look at the video Regina had. They see her being dragged out of her room and beaten. Unfortunately they didn’t recognize the men in the video but they would find them nonetheless.

“Thank you for this. I don’t know who they are but we’re going to find them.” Steve tells her. “Y/N can I talk to you for a minute?”

You get up and follow Steve into his office where he closes the door behind you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Steve after watching him pace back and forth for a few minutes. “Is it about whoever broke into Regina’s place?”

Steve leans against his desk and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’ll most likely have to be out more. At least while I track these sons of bitches down.”

“Ok, and?”

“Will you be ok here? After last night… I’m doing everything to make sure this place is more secure.”

“Ok.”

“I’m also going to assign Nat to be with you whenever you go out. I know you’re independent but I need you to do as she says if something were to happen.”

“Do you think someone would try to hurt me again?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I mean look at what they did to Regina and she hasn’t even been here that long. I’m not going to risk you and Eli being in danger again.” Steve pushes himself off the desk and walks over to you. “It should’ve never happened in the first place. I’m going to handle this.”

“I’m more worried about Elijah than myself.”

“Of course you are because you’re a good mom.” Steve cups your face when he sees your eyes start getting glassy. “You just take care of him like you always do and I’ll keep you both safe.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

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lizzybeth1986 · 3 months

Text

Drake and Kiara: When You're Fucking Racist

Series - TRR's Alternative LIs - The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

Previous - Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims

A/N: Again, apologies for the length. There was a LOT to unpack in this one!! I'm really, really not going to be nice to Drake here. It was harrowing to go through a lot of these scenes again and I honestly don't have the patience or inclination to sugarcoat any of it.

CW: Mentions of gun violence and minimization of trauma. Mentions of racist fan vitriol towards a black character. Examination of the Jezebel stereotype.

Whenever I think about how unhinged the hatred towards Kiara (and especially towards Kiara's attraction to Drake) was, a specific edit comes to mind.

On the surface, it looks quite simple. Kiara in a white wedding dress, Drake right next to her in his blue formal suit. Both of them are smiling at the viewer. The background is a beautiful forest, and the entire picture is bathed in a lovely, muted sepia tone. A sweet, simple wedding scene.

The caption underneath this edit?

Classify under things no one asked for.

Kiara's dream come true!

The tags read "#i barf a little looking at this" and "#i must post to share the suffering". You find out in the comments that the OP created this edit inspired by one of the many fics where Kiara was Drake's stalker, and intended to make her creepy and deranged (but ultimately failed).

The comments are...tbh, things that this fandom has long since normalized and shrugged at when it comes to Drake stans. Multiple puke-face emojis. Multiple gifs signaling disgust. One stan even equates the ship name (Driara) to the word diarrhoea.

"She looks very stalkeresque and white "I drugged Drake so he's marrying me" wedding ready!"

"Well it's close to Halloween so we should expect scary shit"

"THAT is why I made that bitch my Maid of Honor...so she got the message LOUD AND CLEAR...it ain't NEVER gonna happen honey" (right below a barfing gif)

I wish I could say this example of Kiara hatred was the worst of the lot, or even the only one. It wasn't. I'm not sure even an entire essay would be adequate space to explore the sheer levels of vitriol, hatred and double standards dumped on this one character.

Until now, we've seen examples of alternative LIs that were treated with respect. With adulation. Often with kid gloves in case we hurt their poor lill fee-fees. Up until now, no matter what an alternative LI may have done, the LI matched with them wasn't allowed to treat them badly, nor was the MC able to get away with hurting them without punishment.

But in this series, Kiara was, is, and will always be an anomaly.

The Jezebel Stereotype

In most media, black women in particular tend to be subjected to a variety of stereotypes that often have serious, real-world implications. The Mammy, the Sapphire (that over time evolved to what we now know as the "Angry Black Woman" stereotype) and the Jezebel, being the most prominent ones among them. In this essay, I will be focusing specifically on the last.

An article in the Black Then website explains the definition and history of the trope this: "The portrayal of black women as lascivious by nature is an enduring stereotype. The descriptive words associated with this stereotype are singular in their focus: seductive, alluring, worldly, beguiling, tempting, and lewd. Historically, white women, as a category, were portrayed as models of self-respect, self-control, and modesty – even sexual purity, but black women were often portrayed as innately promiscuous, even predatory. This depiction of black women is signified by the name Jezebel."

So it isn't altogether uncommon to see stories where black women are juxtaposed against "pure", "innocent" white/white-passing women, and viewed as lesser. PB hasn't exactly escaped these stereotypes in their stories either - though there are a variety of characters and character types, we can't deny that there was a time when a black woman was made the antagonist, often in ways that were meant to measure her up to the MC/another white woman to her detriment.

(VoS screenshots from the HIMEME YouTube channel, ACOR screenshots from Vika Avey's YouTube channel)

Two very prominent examples of PB using this trope are Scarlett from VoS, and Xanthe from ACOR. There are other black women who serve as antagonists but in a more professional space, but these two particularly are measured on their attractiveness, sex appeal and "purity" in the narrative in comparison to either the MC, or someone close to them.

In VoS, Scarlett Emerson and Kate O'Malley are the sisters of the two male LIs (Grant and Flynn), but their treatment couldn't be any more different. Scarlett's role in the book is pretty short-lived. She's very prominent in the first half of the book as Kate's potential MOH who secretly hates her, before it's revealed in Ch 5 that Tanner was cheating on Kate with her (and that she'd loved him since she was a child). Notably, in that very scene, the MC places most of the blame on Scarlett (rather than on Tanner for choosing to betray his fiancée) by labelling the act as her seduction of him.

Thereafter she is either only mentioned, or has blink-and-you-miss-it appearances in one or two chapters. We see her in the "memory" portion of the bonus scene, but we are never shown what her future is like (even as minor characters like Miss Harleney get one!). Her bonus scene shows us how her bracelet ended up on Tanner's boat, and it is an uncomfortable scene to get through. Tanner berates Scarlett for having sex with him a week before his wedding, but it is she who points out that he asked her to come there! Yet the MC and others view her as the temptress who "seduced" Tanner, as if the man had no mind of his own.

The narrative often juxtaposes her with Kate, the pure, innocent, sweet fiancée (and she actually is! No pretence there) and the fandom lapped it up. There were many demands for Kate to be upgraded to LI status, which eventually resulted in PB allowing us to marry her if we chose. As I mentioned earlier, both Scarlett and Kate are sisters to two of our LIs - but one is made an LI, while no one bothers to even imagine what the other's future entails.

An even worse fate greets that of Xanthe, the sole female antagonist in ACOR. The slut-shaming and disgust over her overt sexuality is far more blatant here. And it is extremely ironic for Xanthe to be viewed in this way, because the MC herself is a courtesan and uses wiles to get men to do her bidding. While Xanthe herself is not perfect by any means - she is depicted as xenophobic and callous, going as far as to mock Syphax when he is sent away to a possible death as a gladiator - the MC's targeting of her goes beyond just her "righteous indignation" and develops into a form of hypocrisy. She has no qualms mocking Xanthe for her direct approach or her skimpy red dress (even though the MC herself wears a skimpy red dress and can seduce a man in a temple not too long after).

The end Xanthe meets is horrific in its implications - the black matron of her scholae (who began by promising the MC herself that "you need do nothing against your will") sends her away to sexual slavery in Sicily, while the black man who was one of the few bastions of morality in the book, escorts her, smiling, to the ship that will take her there. As far as the narrative is concerned, the end was well-deserved...even though PB has had no issues allowing white women to do far worse without any punishment.

We cannot view what ACOR did with Xanthe in isolation. They had built up to it early on - from the MC's reactions towards her, her patrons' dismissiveness of her, the MC's LIs' viewing her with derision and zero respect. The MC - despite her own unscrupulousness - is viewed as the "noble whore" to Xanthe, yet it is clear on even a surface read that there is not much difference between the two women.

The Jezebel stereotype, ultimately, is about dehumanizing the black woman it focuses on, so that her actions and choices are viewed as deviant from what is "normal" - feeding into either responses of disgust and derision, or a desire to objectify her. To some readers, it makes whatever awful or comparatively unfair end they meet, more palatable. Scarlett and Xanthe are not viewed as people by the narrative - especially not the way the MC of their books or even white female antagonists are. No one cares for their backstories, coos over their losses, wonders if they are okay. When they meet their inevitable end, the characters and so many in the fandom alike just shrug and move along.

How does a character like Kiara fit into this? Her smarts and linguistic talents are her most prominent traits, and while she does have feelings for Drake, she never really acts out-of-pocket towards him (more on this later). So at least from what we see in canon, there's very little about her that seems to apply to the Jezebel stereotype. Yet, the fandom is not only inclined, but eager, to view her as one. Kiara's feelings have been viewed in a far more predatory light, perhaps more often than any other female character in the series. Why is this so?

A response I have often seen - on reddit, on Kiara's wiki page, at times on Tumblr too - is how there is a "certain something" about Kiara that people "just don't like". Many players who prefer Penelope to her are often very aware of what she has done, but still insist they like her far more than they do Kiara. On a reddit thread about questioning the logic of having Kiara and Penelope as options for the MC's MOH in TRR3, certain players commented thus:

"I don't know why, I just dislike her a lot. Penelope is fine to me, but Kiara irritates me." (said commenter is an Aerin stan)

"I liked Penelope, I thought she was nice. But Kiara got on my nerves."

In her book, The Sisters Are Alright, Tamara Winfrey Harris makes an eye-opening (to me at least!) observation about how misogynoir works:

"Misogynoir, abetted by dehumanizing caricature, is like water. It fills its vessel, taking many forms, and then overflows, creeping unnoticed into the cracks of things, rotting the foundation. It spreads a belief in Black women’s inherent wrongness." (Italics mine).

Now of course, if I were to ask the current fandom, they would come up with a range of reasons. Some that emerged from fandom myths and became more popular than the truth in time, some from PB's excessive pandering to players that hated her. But the root of it all is in a certain "je ne sais quoi" that makes her automatically unappealing, resulting in those readers leaning towards misreading or misremembering her scenes, misrepresenting her motives, or watering down the impact of worse actions from whiter women. It results in a group of writers (who have thus far gone to the extent of retconning the worst of a white woman's actions just to make her look good) leaning into such readings, even when they're not true.

TRR1 Kiara: Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake?

"Kiara is fake", "Kiara is a snob", "Kiara is self-serving", "Kiara promised to be friends with us but dropped us like a hot potato the moment we became unpopular". These are some of the most enduring takes about Kiara in the past few years, and readers who say this usually bring up a vague recollection of TRR1 and 2 as proof. Mostly that "Kiara was our friend" in the first book, and left us hanging at the beginning of TRR2.

Is that reading based in fact, though? Let's take a look at TRR1!Kiara and find out.

We are introduced to Kiara (along with Penelope, and standing next to Hana) in TRR3 when we meet Liam's other suitors. Olivia introduces each woman differently, and the descriptor she uses for Kiara is that she is the "daughter of a diplomat and fluent in ten languages" (note: Kiara never boasts of her linguistic skill, Olivia does. Nor are there any scenes of her looking down on anyone who doesn't speak her mother tongue French, unless of course you accidentally ask her to sleep with you).

Both she and Penelope note immediately that the MC doesn't quite fit in - if the MC questions the women about being allies with Olivia, a woman who calls them "harpies", they view that as an overreaction. When the MC tells the ladies at the Derby about getting lost, Kiara finds her tardiness and inability to fit in, a sign that she cannot keep up with the competition. Until the chapters in Lythikos, Kiara's and Penelope's characterizations are almost interchangeable, personality-wise. It is likely the team envisioned them more as European nobility rather than specifically Cordonian (based on Olivia's introductions), and they are both depicted as poised, refined and aware of their place in court.

It's in Lythikos that Kiara, at least, begins to show a more distinct personality (for Penelope it's after the Regatta). Unlike the rest of the court, who watches Olivia's unwanted kiss on Liam with either mild shock or disinterest, Kiara is angered by what she sees as a very obvious power-play - which gives the MC the opening she needs to gain an alliance.

Now this "alliance" scene of Kiara's is interesting, for two reasons. One is that fandom often uses this scene to establish her "double standards" in TRR2, claiming that Kiara opted to be friends with the MC. Yet nowhere in the scene does the MC or Kiara ever suggest a friendship with each other - they both agree to an alliance. Furthermore, this is an arrangement that benefits the MC more - there isn't exactly anything she contributes (or is expected to contribute) to Kiara from her end. Kiara's promise is that she will put in a good word in the MC's favour, and she upholds that promise throughout the social season.

Another is that among the courtiers, Kiara herself is the first person to identify and respond to the MC's potential if she shows it at the Derby and the tea party (though Hana is also a courtier, I view her strictly as an LI in this context - since her support is by default and is founded on a more emotional basis). Not many nay notice this, but there is a distinction between how Kiara responds to an MC in a successful play vs a failplay...in a way that none of the other suitors do. Take note of the screenshots below:

The top two pictures in this collage are dialogues that feature by default. The bottom two, however, are dependent on branch-coding. They only appear IF the MC has managed to win the approval of the King, the Queen and the press. If you don't succeed in the same, she will not mention your performance in the social season at all, nor will she say anything about the value of your alliance.

That is a far bigger deal than most players of this series realize. It means that Kiara has been watching us closely, and has understood our potential over the course of just three court events. Only two other characters are shown tracking our progress this way: Bertrand (who is our sponsor, so he has to keep track) and Queen Regina (who can guess already her stepson's feelings for the MC, which automatically makes her a person of interest). For Kiara to understand the MC's capabilities, and to openly admit she has potential this early in the competition - it takes a high level of rationality, honesty and pragmatism to come to such a conclusion. Unlike Olivia (who lashes out in jealousy at the MC), Penelope (who has to be told why exactly it's good to have allies), and Madeleine (who dismisses us as competition until it's too late), Kiara actually views the MC with a discerning, impartial eye and an objective approach.

So on the surface, it appears as if Kiara is written by a team that likes her! You could almost be convinced that they thought she was cool but were forced to pander to "crazy Drake stans" in their writing later (which is an argument I have heard often). After all, she's established as beautiful, skilled, smart and observant. You wouldn't do that for a character you don't like, right?

But even as early as TRR1, a disdain for Kiara creeps in from the writing that you rarely see for any of the others.

This is especially apparent when you look at how Kiara's proficiency with language is spoken about. It is supposed to be her most visible skill - Olivia identifies her by it, we see her peppering her English sentences with French words (of course, many may argue that she doesn't exactly sound like an actual French person...but let's remember that her writers aren't exactly very used to the language themselves or interested in doing extra research for authenticity!). As we approach the end of the first book, there are at least two dialogue options that result in people doubting her abilities or mocking her for speaking only English and French most of the time.

In TRR1 Ch 16, Madeleine optionally speaks to the MC over phone (believing her to be a reporter taking her interview) about her thoughts on Kiara. Kiara's tendency to speak mostly in French and English is supposed to be a sign that she "exaggerates her accomplishments". Mind you, this is from the same woman who claims to be the best choice for Cordonia despite her poor strategies and her antagonizing potential allies during the engagement tour (TRR2); who complains if the MC doesn't compliment her for mediocre work as a press sec (TRR3). The MC can also choose to diss Kiara in a similar way, treating Kiara like she is a circus performer and her skills as if they are meant for the MC's entertainment. The only solace I could derive from this dumpster fire of a dialogue option, was that Kiara managed to shut the MC up with her multilingual response.

No other time are we allowed to call a courtier's abilities and skills into question. The MC accepts on faith that Olivia is a badass with great fighting skills. Same with Penelope's ability as a seamstress. The MC is never even allowed to have legitimate complaints about Madeleine's work as press sec, besides maybe that she could "be a little nicer". So the fact that the writers not only have other characters doubt Kiara's talent, but also allow people to mock her about it in all three books...is really something.

Another possible indicator of this disdain is the fact that Kiara is the only suitor who never gets a chance to actually interact with Liam on-screen. Even Penelope, a fellow minor character, can approach and talk to him twice...and her gift to him is shown in Ch 18 whereas Kiara's and Hana's aren't. Despite the fact that Kiara is a potential suitor, the story never allows her to interact with Liam. She doesn't exactly have any interactions with Drake in this book either, but honestly nor does any other couple have much time together besides Liam and Olivia.

Drake and Kiara hardly seemed to be a possibility back in TRR1. Drake himself didn't seem to associate with anyone besides the MC and the group in the first book (and even with the group his interactions were infrequent). Kiara herself doesn't have many scenes that aren't related to the court or to the competition, even once she is no longer participating. The closest she comes to any sort of association besides Penelope, is a friendship with Hana that begins sometime before the Fox Hunt. Drake and Kiara never actually have any scenes together, or interactions, or references. It is likely that the idea to pair them up was entirely a Book 2 thing.

On a fandom level, neither Kiara or Penelope garnered much attention or fan reactions. They weren't noticed much, nor did you see their scenes too often. Probably that is why it was so damn easy to remember Kiara's entire equation with the MC wrong. Why certain stans of the book were able to get away with misrepresenting the relationship between her and the MC in TRR1, to hate on her in TRR2. I will not deny, though, that certain dialogue choices from PB (like "I thought we were friends!" in the Fydelia scene) may have had a hand in those beliefs becoming the "truth".

TRR2 Kiara - Pragmatic Courtier or Backstabbing Snake (Part 2)

I plan to get into the way the Drake and Kiara angle is framed in canon, but before that it's important to tackle that one elephant in the room - Kiara telling the MC the alliance is over. Because very often, people used this scene (coupled with their misinterpretations of Book 1) as their "justification" to hate her. Often, people would choose the ruder options (such as the Christmas card dialogue) and assume that Kiara was rude by default, rather than as a consequence of the MC's behaviour towards her.

Kiara and Penelope are the first to express surprise at the MC's return (and their reactions are shown as representative of the rest of the court). Kiara in fact is shocked that the MC dared to return (which is kinda warranted! Several people in these early chapters view that as a risky move, a gamble that could backfire on her. That's why Bertrand gets her a press secretary). Their scene with the MC immediately follows the MC's conversation with Liam and Madeleine (and mind you, in the option where the MC can tell her she was set up, Madeleine herself voices disbelief of the same. Conveniently, this is never used as a reason to hate her). Both women let the MC know of their change in status, and therefore the change in their relationship with her.

What gets missed overall, is that Kiara is a lady-in-waiting (which is an actual role with specific duties) to Madeleine, which means her loyalty now has to lie with this woman whether she likes it or not. For her to even agree to approach the MC and explain the situation, is a risk. In at least two dialogue options in this scene, she tells the MC straight-up that they will be in trouble if they're even seen talking to her (this becomes a moot point by Ch4, mostly because Madeleine herself is shown talking to the MC and allowing her into conversations in public, once Hana arrives).

Penelope is often viewed in a better light in this scene because of her obvious friendliness and her sadness at no longer being the MC's friend, but once you have the reveal of her being a traitor, her behaviour in this scene seems wildly disingenuous, and I'm surprised more people didn't call her a fake when the reveal came out. She had to know the allegations against the MC were fake when she rushed to hug her, having been an integral part of that fabrication. It makes her lament when she's caught, in the failplay, ("I can't do anything right. You were never supposed to find out!") that much more chilling. She is eager to have the benefit of the MC's friendship and emotional support, without ever being honest about her role in smearing her reputation.

The other was that - no matter what you may choose to think of this scene - Kiara was placing herself at risk to let the MC know it was over. Approaching the MC was the right thing to do, but what is never spoken about is the fact that it was also a brave thing to do. Rather than ghost the pariah of the court and never give an explanation, she tells her honestly what the situation is, and strives to protect her impulsive friend (who could get both of them in trouble) at the same time.

When you view Kiara's actions from that lens - when you look at the facts - suddenly the claims that Kiara was "fake", "a flip-flopper", "a backstabber", "unscrupulous and self-serving", sound pretty hollow.

TRR2: The Drake x Kiara "Romance" Begins...and So Does the Vitriol

So...an interesting thing about the general reaction to Kiara in the early chapters of TRR2. I was new to the fandom when this book was released. There was an annoyance at Kiara when the first chapter came out, but to my surprise it didn't exactly become full-blown hatred until she started showing an interest in Drake in Ch 3.

This book is often used as a reference by Drake stans when they speak of Kiara as an obsessed, stalker-type, sex-hungry woman - often in contrast to their "pure", "innocent" MCs. Basically...the Jezebel. But the five scenes we see of this ship in the book itself tell a completely different story:

1. Drake Helps Kiara Lift A Heavy Beam (TRR2 Ch 3)

Chapter 3 is perhaps the first time we see an indication of Kiara's attraction to Drake on a physical level. The scene takes place at the barn raising, but only if we choose to stay with Drake over Hana for the barn raising activities. Kiara shows up in a rather pitiable state - her friend Penelope abandoned her for thirty whole minutes, leaving her to lift incredibly heavy beams alone. Drake helps Kiara and mildly chides her for not asking for his help, and Kiara stares at his bare chest, mesmerized.

She isn't exactly alone in this - the MC herself ogles at his bare chest at one point (if we go by the lines in the narrative that read "his muscles glisten in the sunlight" which is def from the MC's PoV). This scene was meant as fanservice for stans who wanted to drool over Drake's physique for a bit, and belatedly build up an alternative (at least for all three male LIs, they were trying to do this in TRR2).

The MC can either point out Kiara's obvious attraction towards Drake, or suspect her of being part of the plot. This will not be the last time the MC or the group will view her with suspicion, with little to no basis in fact. In the option that calls attention to Kiara's attraction to Drake, she is shown covertly sneaking a second look at him. Drake is shown with a visible discomfort at even the idea that Kiara could like him, one that only the MC notices considering she is working in proximity with him.

The reaction to this was instantaneous from several Drake x MC shippers. One or two glances at Drake's chest was enough for Drake stans to begin typing posts in capslock, screaming "BACK OFF KIARA HE'S MINE". The excuses given at the time were that the MC didn't get much opportunity to romance him (Drake was trying to refrain from kissing her in Ch 2 because he felt guilty), and largely-inaccurate judgements of Kiara's character. Jealousy of this kind is sometimes seen as the norm when you have a popular ship and a third angle is created, but this was about to take form in some...very disturbing ways in later chapters.

2. Kiara was Once Savannah's Friend/Kiara's long-standing crush on Drake (Ch 4)

A misconception I often see in the fandom (particularly in relation to how Kiara's feelings for Drake aren't given the same level of consideration that Olivia's for Liam is) is that Olivia's are "more genuine", and Kiara's are "mere lust" or "only physical" and this is probably why she's not given as much respect as Olivia was. Even though, tbh, Kiara was far, far more respectful of Drake and his personal space, than Olivia was of Liam in TRR1.

Leaving aside the obvious problems with that train of thought (viewing sexual feelings as "lesser" just because they're not rooted in some intense emotion), this is not even true, and the first part of the Driara garden party scene is proof enough. Kiara says, straight up, that Drake had been "such a good friend to [Liam]. It's part of why I always liked you." (Bold mine). If the MC voices doubts about this (likely incorporated for readers who would question it as a retcon...and it was a retcon since they didn't interact in TRR1), Kiara tells her that she doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, which actually matches her practical approach to most things. In fact just a few scenes earlier, when the MC questioned her about wanting a husband (when she'd mentioned earlier about wanting to join the ministry), Kiara informs her that it would never hurt to have both. So it makes sense for her character if she's someone who kept her feelings for Drake a secret, especially while in a competition for winning the Crown Prince's hand. But we cannot, in any honest capacity, claim that Kiara's feelings for Drake weren't deep enough, or lasting enough, or genuine enough. At least based on the evidence we have.

Another point this scene brings up is Kiara's friendship towards Savannah. Up until this point, the only people who did reference her were Olivia, Drake and Maxwell - and Olivia's mockery of especially seemed to imply that the ladies of the court weren't very nice to her. Kiara's account is very different from this, and actually quite affectionate ("she was one of us", "she was coming along so well in learning French"). It's not the closest friendship, but Kiara did care enough to tutor her in the language and clearly missed her. It is possible that this scene was positioned to both build up to the alternative romance and foreshadow Savannah's presence in Paris. There is a lot more that could have been done with this angle, but perhaps that is a discussion for another section.

3. Never-Have-I-Ever (Ch 9)

This is a small option in a drinking game - the MC can get to say "never have I ever had a crush on Kiara", and loses, because Drake says she isn't his type (ironically he claims he isn't her type in the next chapter). It's interesting that he does consider her as not as bad as some of the others in that group.

3. Flirting with Drake in Paris (Ch 10)

For five chapters, we don't see any more hints of this romance. We see Drake in plenty, and we see quite a bit of Kiara. But none of it shows them together.

Kiara's scene with Drake at the tea party, is in some ways a continuation of his diamond scene with Savannah. He knows now where his sister is and what her big secret was, but this scene is where he realises how little he actually knew about her, if even her "noblewoman friend" knew she had intentions to go to Paris and he, her brother, didn't. This scene also takes place at what I call a "rest period" in the story - the group has just come out of a high-intensity altercation with Bastien, and it is one chapter before the major reveal about Constantine. So the MC can relax a little, some of the loose ends of previous stories can be tied up, and we get a vibe check on at least two alternative ships.

Drake is rather civil to Kiara in this conversation, mostly because he's trying to get information about his sister out of her. There isn't much he contributes besides this - it doesn't seem to matter much to him that Kiara was a rare friend among the court to Savannah (tho TRR3 would later retcon this), and when she talks about herself he doesn't pay much attention. Kiara does make an attempt at a light flirtation which goes largely unnoticed.

The MC's response when she first sees them goes three ways - a neutral comment about the petit-fours, a "matchmake-y" comment that points to them that they "look cozy", and a "jealous" comment about interrupting them. The third one especially results in Drake inadvertently confirming he doesn't think of Kiara in a romantic light, and Kiara appearing disappointed. Remember, at this point she doesn't see much evidence that Drake and the MC romancing him are an item.

The follow-up conversation with Drake, too, follows along similar lines. The neutral comment just asks him about the information he gathered from Kiara, the "matchmake-y" one points out she has feelings for Drake and the "jealous" one is... something.

The third response is very obviously crafted for the more possessive Drake stans to get satisfaction from dissing Kiara, perhaps in a more aggressive way than the Maxwell stans could. While the Maxwell MC can pass an insult or two to discourage Penelope, the Drake MC will go as far as to tell him he belongs only to her, and can threaten to "push her into the petit-fours".

Ironically, this scene follows a scene with Olivia about her lingering feelings for Liam - and Olivia's grief, the MC's clear sympathy and Liam's concern for Olivia are all by default. There is a certain level of sensitivity the Liam MC is required to have for Olivia that is never once expected of the Drake MC, and that plays out in very dangerous ways in the next book.

This scene, again, brought forth rather violent reactions, and in fact the language of the MC's responses itself seemed to encourage that kind of response. A poster later compiled an entire set of these responses ranging from mocking, to "back off, Kiara!" to straight up demands for murder (I couldn't link to this post because the names of the people involved were included in it, but I do have quite a few of those screenshots for reference).

After this point, you don't see any more scenes where Kiara actively flirts. In fact for most of the second half you see her and Penelope very rarely. So it does feel really wild in retrospect that "obsessed Kiara" became such a popular interpretation, after one checking-out scene, one flirtation and one rather sweet and genuine compliment of him as a person.

4. Pranking Kiara (Ch 17)

A pattern you would have noticed by now is that there is a bit of a mean streak in Drake for Kiara that is either very dominant or latent, based on whether the MC tries to encourage him, or shows jealousy towards her.

And this isn't necessarily an indicator that he can never be interested in Kiara. A distrust for nobility is almost a norm for him at this point, and let's not forget that Drake's first few interactions with the MC too didn't exactly leave her with the best impression of him either. Kiara initially being on Madeleine's side at the beginning of the story could be a factor in some level of disdain too. Such complications could - in a good story - add layers to a potential romance in the future if that was the direction the writing was going for.

Around the MC who doesn't mind them as a pair, he shows a small sliver of an inclination towards Kiara herself. His response if the MC points out that Kiara was flirting with him (Ch 10) is that he doesn't believe he is Kiara's type, not the other way around. In this scene, a drunk Drake who is encouraged to write a "nice note" to her as a prank, can write "your hair is pretty and your French is totally not stupid". Both of these lines present a sign of a possibility that a romance could happen. His behaviour when an MC casually hints at this possibility, is of someone who may like this woman deep down, but show it in very strange ways (akin to the age-old metaphor of the "boy who pulls the pigtails of the girl he has a crush on"). They wouldn't have even needed to show his responses in this way if they weren't trying to hint at a possibility.

His response to a "jealous" MC is to delightedly bask in her possessiveness of him, and to go hand-in-glove with her as she insults or suggests violence on Kiara in any way. Now one could perhaps headcanon this as a behaviour that comes from being unused to female attention focused on him, coupled with his affection for the MC - but when you take into account his behaviour towards Kiara herself in TRR3 as well, there seems to be a blatant lack of consideration or compassion towards her as a human being. Compare this, again, to the way Liam's behaviour towards Olivia is written in canon, and interpreted by the fandom. Liam is expected to be kind to her, even if he's clueless about her feelings or if she is harming him (eg. Even when she kisses him, he cares enough to opt for a reaction that will not publicly humiliate Olivia).

Not so for Drake. He is very happy to follow in the MC's lead, even in hurting Kiara. And in this scene, he pretty much kickstarts it with the suggestion of a prank.

Drake knows where Kiara's room is (thanks to a nameplate on the door, and the familiarity of the hallway, which he likes for the view outside) and wants to prank her. The MC can either accept or refuse. If she accepts, there is one nice option, and two distinctly mean-spirited ones. The first proposes to mess up her book organizational system, and the narrative describes the attempt as "ruining any semblance of order to Kiara's bookshelves". These are materials she likely requires for her career as an aspiring diplomat, or even books she uses to update herself on the world. But to this MC and Drake, her work and interests are little more than a joke.

The second one is not only aggressively mean - it also is an attempt to ruin her personal space with her personal items. Going by the array of haircare the narrative mentions, maintaining her hair is very important to Kiara (I am not equipped enough to speak about black women and their relationship with their hair, but this option did make me very uncomfortable, because of the little I've seen on how essential regular haircare and good products can be for many black women). Not only does the MC suggest using all that product to render Kiara's bed practically unusable, she also insists Drake waste the full bottle of said product. Because, yknow. "It's a prank. Go big or go home". Drake has one moment where he tries to be less mean in this option (when he attempts to use less of her hairspray), but the moment the MC encourages him towards a crueller direction he does not hesitate. In fact, when the MC first suggests this option, he regards her with something approaching awe, and praises her as "an evil genius".

There's a mean streak in Drake here no matter which option you choose. If you do go for the nicer one, he complains at first that it's not exactly a prank and in fact does claim that they "could still put glitter in her cupboard" as an alternative prank. But the other two options encourage the player to give full vent to whatever underlying frustration/enmity/hatred one could possibly have against Kiara, goading a drunk Drake to be merciless towards the things in her room, in her absence.

Maybe, perhaps, one could just view this as a "fun vent" for the "possessive stans". It allowed the Drake MC and her LI the chance to gang up on her, mock her and cause her discomfort through things that were clearly important to her, treat her like the butt of their joke, and get away with it. When you encourage that kind of hatred with your writing, it can go into some very dark, disturbing places. And it did, especially in TRR3.

The overall response to this scene didn't show much, since it was just one small sequence in a larger scene - and most of the focus was on the heartfelt bonding between Drake and the MC when he takes her to his "special hideout" and his reveal about his motives behind calling the MC by her surname.

Many Drake stans, however, took note of this specific section, and took their interpretations in a completely different direction. Questions were asked about why Drake knew about Kiara's room - completely ignoring that he frequented the hallway regardless for its view and her nameplate is literally placed outside her door - and several fans suspected the two to be involved in an affair just on the basis of him knowing where her room was. These suspicions, again, would crop up from the fandom in a more dramatic way in TRR3.

5. Drinks at Homecoming Ball (Ch 19)

This scene takes place in the finale, just before Kiara and Penelope apologize jointly to the MC for their comments in the beer garden.

Drake is, quite predictably, at the bar in this scene. In some ways one could draw a parallel between this one and the "bar" scene between him and the MC in TRR1 - the only differences being that the two were alone in the first, and that he and the MC are free to romance each other now. However this time, the two ladies of the court could also communicate with him about drinks, and he could use his knowledge of alcohol to guess their preferences.

The scene with Kiara is, again, written to be both a possible sign of familiarity and a diss (mostly the second, I think). With Penelope he just vaguely mentions cocktails and focuses on the decoration for the drink - with Kiara he is able to name the specific wine even though in TRR3 he has no idea what tannins are. There are ways one could envision that as a sign that he notices more about Kiara than he lets on.

The diss, of course, comes with his claim that no matter how top-shelf the wine is, it will still always be "old grape juice" (which is a very strange thing to say because most alcohols are fermented from basic ingredients be it fruit or grains - where did he think his high-quality whiskey that he regularly carries around in his personal flask came from??).

Kiara's attempt to impress him is pretty obvious, but the diss isn't something that weighs too much on her mind. There are less indicators here of a dejection if he brushes her aside, unlike the scene in Ch 10 - she just looks a bit surprised he could guess the exact drink she wanted. Kiara in this scene is more likely to shift gears to something more important. In this case, that is apologizing to the MC for what she views as poor behaviour that sprung up under the influence of alcohol, and offering her an olive branch (the specific apology is for her asking the MC if she came to gloat, not for telling her the alliance was over at the beginning of the tour. In that scene specifically she feels she has nothing to apologise for, and I'm inclined to agree for the reasons I stated in that section).

The overall pattern for this ship seems to indicate that it's...kinda there in case the MC doesn't want to pick Drake, but I always feel like they focused a lot more on the jealousy options and didn't spend enough time to see what a possible relationship could look like. They do claim later that Kiara's affections were supposed to be one-sided, but the buildup at least seemed to indicate some small baseline of interest from Drake's end, even if shown in some rather bizarre ways. However, because there seems to be very little respect for this character already, having the MC threaten violence and having her and Drake overreact over what were essentially harmless interactions from Kiara's end really does indicate that the writers didn't mind taking potshots at her whenever they felt like it. Like I've said before, the trashfire that was Kiara's treatment in TRR3 didn't develop overnight.

Smart, Skilled...Disliked?: Kiara and the Writing Team in TRR3

On 25th Sept 2023, PB released a two-chapter series on Storyloom called "Choices Secrets", which involved at least three writers (Andrew, Kara and Chelsa) talking about ideas and plots and backstories that didn't make it to the released book. In one section, Kara Loo speaks specifically about the ending of TRR2:

According to this account, the original idea was to kill off Olivia and possibly use that as a segue into the Nevrakis plot of the book, since her aunt and Justin were the real villains at the end of the series. When they decided to keep her alive in the series, Kara mentions finding "more members of your group get injured, like Drake".

Interestingly, Kara referred to "members" in the plural, and Drake is the only person from the core group to get shot. So it's just as possible that the choice to have Bastien, Justin/Anton and Kiara sustain injuries, was made once they decided to do away with the storyline about Olivia's death.

Olivia got spared because her writers cared for her. Kiara was likely one of the people injured in her stead, and probably the only one out of them (except for the one who was the main villain) who wasn't getting a prominent scene that focused on her being a survivor of the attack until some readers protested (the entire intro of TRR3 was dedicated to Drake recieving tender care from the MC, Bastien gets showered with concern and care from Constantine, Liam and optionally the MC. The MC comes to the estate, makes a perfunctory mention of the injury once and proceeds to emotionally blackmail Kiara into joining the tour. Let's not even talk about Lythikos. That shit warranted its own essay). No matter how much you downplay the situation, the truth is that Kiara got grievously hurt in a terrorist attack and her writers didn't think it was important enough to address.

I often wondered in the beginning, why Kiara was chosen for this. A close friend at the time theorized that perhaps it was done to ensure Madeleine would become our press secretary, because there was no way the MC would be considering her for this position if someone less hostile (like Kiara) was around. Another wondered if we might get opportunities to address palace security through the experiences of the survivors. Being a Drake x Kiara supporter at least by the end of TRR2, I wondered whether it was a coincidence that they both were injured at the same ball, and the possibility of the two bonding over such a painful experience.

Well. Boy was I about to be disappointed.

Because why did Kiara have to be so badly injured, if it was going to amount to nothing? If they weren't even going to address it in her own home? If - after even players who didn't care much for her, noticed the silence around that attack - the best you could offer was a scene that followed the MC and her friends suspecting the victim of this attack??

Had I looked at Kiara's narrative treatment (from TRR1 onwards) closer back then, perhaps I wouldn't have expected so much. It would have occurred to me that maybe they hurt Kiara the most, because they cared for her the least. Kiara is viewed as smart, poised, talented. Madeleine even calls her "one of the more competant courtiers" at some point. But that doesn't always mean that the team that writes her deems her worthy of respect.

For one, the writers tend to lean more into fandom perceptions of her in this book, rather than looking at their own canon. Kiara being a snob is not canon - that is ridiculous considering that she was such good friends with Savannah, and her support of the MC when she fits in well. Kiara acting like her linguistic skill makes her better than anyone else isn't canon either - nor is she obliged to speak in all ten languages on a loop just for the MC's or Maxwell Beaumont's entertainment. Kiara being perpetually mean to her best friend is inaccurate at best - she is often frustrated by Penelope, sure, but she spends far time and energy helping her than anyone else in that court.

Yet the narrative gives both these statements as dialogue options for the MC, where she can bitch about Kiara...but somehow only ever allows the same MC to be nice and caring and loving to Penelope - never once reminding her of the hell she'd put the MC through in the past. And because the fandom expected the Kiara-Penelope friendship to focus only on Penelope, PB got away with having Kiara's "best friend" stay conveniently silent as the MC berated her in her own home. The narrative even threw Kiara under the bus in TRR3 Ch 16, in order to make Madeleine look better in Hana's memories of the TRR2 bachelorette, claiming falsely that Kiara shouted at Penelope so much while drunk, that the latter was brought to tears. There is way more energy spent in painting an inaccurate and negative portrait of Kiara, than there is in showing the truth.

For another, the way the courtiers' and their parents' agreement to join the tour is coded...is extremely suspicious. When you compare both a successful and a failplay, you will find that all the parents have the chance to reject the MC's proposal to join the tour...except for one. Kiara's father, Hakim. In a failplay where you purposely do all the wrong things...out of the entire group of people who are still doubtful about supporting you, only Kiara and Hakim join your tour by default, without any expectation of a reward (Madeleine demands her own department after the wedding). They will be a part of it no matter what you do, no matter your failures, no matter how badly you treat them.

Hakim may have joined mainly to confront his old friend the King, but he still stays on even after Constantine dies. The writers made sure to branch-code things in a way that Kiara and Hakim could never drop out even if the MC was awful to Kiara, and never once acknowledged what it must take for them to do that. After Kiara herself had been fucking stabbed!!!!

Joelle, Kiara's mother, and Ezekiel, Kiara's brother, can reject the offer if they aren't impressed with the MC, but out of these two characters only one is viewed with respect - the one they were going to pair up with Penelope.

The narrative doesn't mind letting the MC mock Joelle for her passionate support of the arts if she doesn't win her approval, and her insistence that it is the sign of a thriving kingdom...and they make her sound petulant and churlish in response to that mockery. This despite the fact that in a successful route, she says one of the most profound political statements in the books:

"Hakim and I don't just want Cordonia to remain stable and peaceful. Those are blessings, naturallement, but our kingdom can do so much more than just survive."

In contrast, when you look at the same failplay, Emmeline and Landon are treated with far more respect from the narrative, even though Hakim and Joelle's plans for the country would benefit Cordonia as a whole. Drake looks up to Penelope's parents as an inspiration, especially if he's going to become a duke. Meanwhile Hakim actually acknowledges Drake and his bravery in a way that none of the other dukes and duchesses did, and Drake never gives a shit.

Emmeline can accuse the MC of not taking their situation seriously, if she does a bad job at the polo match, and the MC only has the grace to look contrite rather than lash out at her. Landon himself is never judged for coddling his daughter the way he does. Their focus on Portavira rather than the country is respected, and the MC not meeting their demands is viewed as her weakness, not an overreaction from their end. They never get the snarky responses Joelle gets, where the MC can outright call her "a handful" in front of her own husband.

And then there is the matter of how PB deals with the problems of all the court ladies.

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel)

The period of the Unity Tour isn't exactly an easy time for anyone. The LIs each deal with their own shit, and the ladies of the court themselves have their own reasons for being reluctant to return. The entire point of this tour is to address their specific concerns as well as that of their families', because without the courtiers themselves we wouldn't have as strong a court.

In Madeleine's case, we have to talk to her through a diamond scene and then educate her mother on her ways of mourning lost opportunities, among other things. In Penelope's case we are required to give her complete protection and emotional security, for her to even bother joining the tour (there is branch coding where she can refuse to be a part of the tour at all). Even for Olivia - who is already an ally - the diamond scene encourages us to stand up to her aunt, by letting Olivia know that it is valid for her to lean on others for support without being considered weak.

But for Kiara? The best we can come up with, while in her duchy, is some version of - "You're smart. You'd know that if you left now, people will say bad things about Cordonia and then it would be your fault". You either manipulate her, or insult her as being a useless excuse of a diplomat. As I mentioned in another essay, Kiara's comfort is a non-factor. The gap between the care we were expected to give to Madeleine and Penelope, and what we deign to give Kiara in Castelserraillan (which is...well...nothing), is massive. And this gap would only increase - not reduce - in the books to come.

It might seem a bit irrelevant to talk about this, especially when this essay is about Drake and Kiara. But it's important to take note of this inherent disdain the writers had towards this one character - and people close to her. Because it is only too easy to pretend that the writers "got scared of the crazy stans".

Of course the stans had a huge, huge role in this. Of course their vitriol and racism succeeded in bringing about (what I consider) one of the most disgusting dialogue options in this series...or perhaps in any series. But I doubt those "crazy stans" would have gotten this far, without a team that didn't mind being cruel to Kiara.

When the Fandom and Canon are both Heartless: Drake and Kiara in TRR3

As I've mentioned in previous essays in this series, playthrough divergences truly begin in TRR3 (eg. While the playthroughs acknowledge who you chose as endgame by end-TRR2, you can still access diamond scenes through a small tweak that allows you to romance other LIs). And whichever LI didn't get engaged with the MC had indications of a new romantic possibility coming up. These were scenes you wouldn't find in your own playthrough with that LI as your fiancé/e.

Kiara doesn't appear in TRR3 until Ch 7, when the entourage comes to her estate Castelserraillan. There aren't a lot of Drake and Kiara scenes themselves, and I will get into why, section by section.

1. Kiara Greets the Group at Castelserraillan (TRR3 Ch 7)

Many Drake stans - once they found their MCs engaged to Drake in TRR2 - seemed to be practically giddy at the prospect of showing off their newly-engaged status to Kiara, and hurting her through the news. They were perhaps more excited about this than their upcoming wedding.

Well, they got that chance in Ch 7. In every other playthrough, she still holds the same feelings for Drake, and compliments his suit as Drake awkwardly fails to meet her eye. In his specific playthrough, Drake defiantly shows off his relationship with the MC, and Kiara shows a slight wistfulness before she forces herself to be normal then wishes the happy couple well. You'd think that would be enough to satisfy the stans who had been baying for her blood all of the previous book.

A throwaway line about Drake knowing where Kiara's room was, had already raised the heckles of a whole bunch of his stans. Kiara's "wistful look" in her first TRR3 scene somehow added fuel to that fire. Suddenly, you got to see a raging torrent of posts demanding to know if Drake had had an affair with Kiara. Fanfic had already been written about Drake cheating on the MC with Kiara by this point - and some of those headcanons and fanfic hinged on making Drake the innocent/vulnerable one, taken advantage of by this sexy, obsessed woman who would be either a danger to him or would be juxtaposed with the "pure", "virginal", "perfect" MC. Drake would never be the problem here, and none of the stans screaming over the possibility of Drake sleeping with Kiara would dream of blaming him for it. No, Kiara was predatory, Kiara was obsessed, if anything happened between them it would be likely Kiara's fault.

This is where it's important to note, again, that none of the more obvious signs of the "Jezebel" stereotype seem to be used in canon for Kiara. While cruel in her own way, the TRR MC doesn't exactly slut shame her or believe Drake will be unfaithful to her, Kiara isn't accused of seducing (or even trying to seduce) anyone, and she actually places respectful personal boundaries for herself in her attraction to Drake, that she never crosses. She may indulge in a light flirtation with him, try to impress him or simply talk to him - but you will never catch her forcing her sexual attention on him like Olivia did with Liam. Yet in popular fanlore, even Olivia's feelings were often cast in a far more noble light in contrast to Kiara's.

In her essay, The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII, Dr Shannon. L Holland explores the historical and contemporary uses of the Jezebel stereotype in depictions of Black women in popular culture and discourse, especially in contrast to white masculinity (which in these contexts, is often viewed as innocent and blameless - and much of the blame lies with the Jezebel figure). The "Jezebel" stereotype "has come to symbolize both a malign, cunning sexual object and an autonomous, liberated sexual agent" - she is at once an independent sexual being making her own choices, and someone who is "incapable" of reining in her sexual appetite...and is therefore often depicted as not only a threat to the "purer" (and often "whiter" or "lighter skinned") woman, but also dangerous for whoever she is "obsessed" with. And we see this time and again in the discourse around Kiara - the fanfic that depicts her in a range of scenarios (stalker, obsessed lover, abusive girlfriend who will break a bottle over Drake's head, at times even descending into murderer to get the man she wants). Which is how we wound up in a position where Kiara even breathing the same air as Drake was viewed as a threat.

It didn't matter that he was flaunting his love for the Drake MC in that playthrough to send a message to Kiara, or that he stayed silent with the others as his wife badgered her into joining the tour. It didn't even matter that Kiara never got a diamond scene the way the two other women did, despite being the most harmed among the ladies. What mattered was that Kiara existed. Her damn existence was the threat.

2. Cheering for Drake's Victory (Ch 10)

Ch 9 of TRR3 was released to players on April 27th, 2018. Immediately after, a mid-book hiatus was announced, mostly to work on some new art (very possibly the red pandas), work on the wedding, and make changes (such as shifting diamond scenes from character-centric ones to LI specific - they'd already started making changes to LI diamond scenes). The book would return 2 months later, in June.

In a livestream before the hiatus ended, the writers had made it very painfully clear that Kiara's feelings for Drake was one-sided. And by that I mean they really emphasized on the one-sidedness of her affection, almost as if to reassure the panicking stans. This would manifest in any future interactions between the two - both in Drake's single and engaged playthroughs - and any hope that such a pairing would even be hinted at was over. But there was one variation that the team had perhaps neglected to edit out.

A small one-word depiction of Kiara cheering Drake when he wins his duel against Neville, joining his friends to praise him. It really isn't much - just Kiara saying "bravo!" before Savannah rushes up to hug him, which is replaced by a scene of Drake himself going up to the MC and passionately kissing her in his own playthrough. What is definitely striking about this depiction is that Kiara was clubbed with his close friends and his sister, rather than the second group of people that largely represented the larger court (Rashad and Queen Regina) who offer their congratulations.

Given the way the writers wrote any remaining interactions between Drake and Kiara, and the fact that this small appearance doesn't really amount to anything, it is possible that this variation was part of an earlier draft that involved other hints, that the writers failed to notice when they put up Ch 10. If they had, I'm pretty certain it wouldn't have stayed in the book.

3. Leaving Court + Wedding Conversations

Remember how I kept stating in this essay that the narrative was going to take their enthusiastic pandering of the "possessive stans" end of the fandom, to some dark, disturbing places? Well, here we are.

Tbh, the writers could have just stopped showing any interactions between the two, or given Kiara another boyfriend if their aim was simply to show that Drake and Kiara would never be endgame. They had done that with Maxwell and Penelope already...oh. I forgot. They actually wanted us to care for Penelope.

Up until this point, Drake's mean streak re: Kiara was present, but not really as obvious as it gets here. PB takes that cruelty several steps further in these two chapters, starting with Ch 11. Ch 11 was fanservice to the people who shouted abuses and "joked" about killing Kiara in every chance they could get. Ch 12 showed this sentiment at its worst, covered it up with enough fluff so it would be harder for people who liked Kiara to notice...and let those players get away with it.

In Ch 11, Kiara approaches the MC and her group to inform them that she is withdrawing from the tour. Drake is the first to respond to this, remaking at the suddenness of the departure. The MC can speculate on a couple of things, ranging from sympathy (that she might be afraid), selfishness (that she is "bailing out" on the MC) and suspicion (that she is hiding something).

In all three options, a pensive Hana expresses sympathy and encourages the group to "reach out". In all three options, Drake will only view Kiara as a suspect.

Mind you - according to Ch 12, Drake is saying this knowing Kiara was injured at Homecoming Ball...and knowing exactly which weapon she was injured with. Aware that she has gone through an event as traumatic as that (if we go by his "just one step at a time" monologue to Kiara), better aware than most how it would feel...he still opts to act like her motives should be suspicious.

This is further emphasized in the Drake playthrough, through the armory scene that the MC takes with Maxwell.

As I've mentioned in the post on this scene, it is divided into three halves. The first half deals with whoever the MC rejected (either Liam, or Drake in Liam's playthrough). The third is buildup to Lucretia's plans to usurp the throne. The second is supposed to be about the excitement among the members of the court for the wedding, and of course as the only people who come for the tour by default (and Madeleine is already taken for the first scene), Kiara and Hakim are used for this scene!

I will only focus on the Drake version of this scene today. There are a few things you notice straight off the bat:

1. Since this is Drake's playthrough, the narrative seems to do away completely with any lingering feelings Kiara may have had are done away with. In this scene she is quite happy about Drake's wedding - in fact, practically chipper. Literally nothing about her behaviour here serves as a reminder that she once had feelings for him.

2. Drake's response to Kiara attending his wedding ties in pretty well with his earlier default suspicion of her. Unlike Hana who is surprised but also happy that Kiara is attending, he seems to voice it as a doubt or a question. While that makes sense and there is continuity, it's pretty awful that he is allowed to suspect her like this and feel no remorse when the truth about her is revealed.

3. Now as I said in the post, this scene is meant to be a buildup to Drake's ice-palace scene. He speaks about wanting a private, country-style wedding in a natural place there, and Kiara's gentle teasing in this scene is supposed to be an indicator of how much he dislikes the usual fanfare. Okay. Fair enough. You're uncomfortable with the fancy decorations and the insane planning, fine.

4. But it's Drake's attitude towards Kiara in this scene that leaves a bad taste in the mouth (unless you were one of those Drake stans that liked to threaten murder on this character ig). The narrative really went out of their way to make him sound uncommonly angry with her, just for asking about his wedding. He angrily hisses at her to keep her voice down the moment she asks about the wedding, and then lashes out the moment she teases him about his love for the MC and his reluctance to be very public about it in that context. Of course, people who either liked Drake or hated Kiara would downplay this scene - either blaming Kiara for not magically knowing his likes or dislikes, or acting like Drake's behaviour in this scene is no big deal.

And his explanation in the ice palace scene really doesn't cut it as a reason for why he should be this pissed off at Kiara's excitement. There is no real bitterness or resentment tied in with the fancy trappings that are mentioned in that specific scene - it's just that he likes simplicity better. If Kiara doesn't know him well enough to understand that - it's because he has never properly talked to her. She made attempts to converse whenever she could. You can claim he never owed her a conversation - but in that case she doesn't owe him a complete understanding of his wants either. He could have just politely answered the question and changed the subject, or quickly took his leave.

He is well-versed enough in court etiquette by this point that he could have managed to sound civil enough. That he could have made a quick, polite exit. But no, he gave her the kind of anger that one reserves for someone who is kicking a puppy or stealing candy from a child, instead. And it was Kiara's grace that allowed her to view that awful behaviour in a more positive light.

It's pretty clear this scene - and to some extent the framing of the next - was made specifically for those Drake stans who were screaming and throwing tantrums about a possible affair. It was to highlight that there was no way Drake could ever return Kiara's feelings - and the only way they could do that was by making sure he treated her as rudely and inhumanely as possible.

I didn't think it could get any worse than this, when I saw this version of the scene...but then I saw Ch 12.

The Talk

If you were to speak just about fandom reactions to this scene...the responses to Kiara chronicling her trauma after Homecoming Ball, were pretty positive. Plenty chose the middle option "You're suffering from the trauma of the event. You need help", and cooed over Drake's touching little monologue about "taking it one day at a time".

I admit at the time I was fooled too. But one thing did niggle at me as I played both this option, and the "understandably cautious" one (I would later understand that the latter was not very good either - it has a thin veneer of "validating" Kiara's feelings, but it still has the MC and Drake expecting her to put their needs before her own safety and sanity).

Drake was reassuring to an extent in both options, sure. But why were his responses so different? Why was his answer to Kiara so closely tied to whatever point the MC was making, rather than independent of it? After all, he was the one who should be able to better relate to Kiara - wouldn't he have thoughts of his own here? If the MC chose that horrible final option, Drake would correct her and comfort Kiara instead, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he???

It was only when I (reluctantly) pressed that third option ("not as driven as I thought you were") that I understood what Drake's role in this scene was.

He wasn't going to be there for Kiara. He wasn't even sympathetic to her! It wasn't even going to be about two traumatized people connecting over their trauma. Drake was a puppet. He was there to parrot whatever garbage came out of the MC's mouth.

Because in the third - and most horrific - option, the MC is allowed to minimize Kiara's trauma, and mock her ambitions in the face of what she has just gone through. Drake is allowed to agree with her ("sometimes ambassadors have to work in dangerous areas"). Kiara is forced by the same narrative to find value in these words.

And all of this, stems from a scenario where Drake and the MC go in suspecting this woman from the jump. Where Maxwell is happy to make jokes about her being a suspect. Where the only two decent people in this group - Liam and Hana - are conveniently written out of the scene, ensuring that these ghouls can act the way they want around Kiara, and get away with it.

Not once is Kiara herself ever allowed to know that the group suspected her by default, nor is she allowed to go through with her intention to leave court. The very roots of this scene are rotten.

Very often, when this scene in particular is addressed, not many people actually address Drake's behaviour here - or in the previous chapter. Stans will vaguely, and conveniently, blame the group as a whole rather than their favourites. Such a tactic allows them to never name the specific people or specific actions, and therefore the main people involved in speaking to Kiara the way they did never have to be held accountable. This is particularly relevant in the case of Drake.

It was Drake's idea to interrogate her. He was the one constantly harping about her "suspicious behaviour". He was the one aware of what happened to her yet chose to think of her as shady. He was the one who should have known better, yet was absolutely game to minimize her trauma or engage in emotional blackmail. And neither he nor the MC came out of this conversation feeling anything resembling remorse. Because, apparently, they never did anything wrong.

They got what they wanted. At best, Drake and the MC manipulated this woman (again) into returning to their court. At worst, they badgered and bullied her into that decision. Either way, she was going to return, and the narrative was going to pretend that the MC and Drake were great people for making it happen.

I have heard some justifications over the years for Drake's behaviour here. One is that he "tends to act like an asshole to everyone". Another is that Kiara is a noble so he was never going to see her in a positive light. Which is hilarious to me, honestly, because in the same book you have Drake reassure Penelope - the woman who had made the MC the target of a reputation-ending scandal - and comfort her when she sees Madeleine. If this was really about the chip on the shoulder he had for nobility, why was he so kind to Penelope? And if Penelope's mental health warranted a change in mindset and behaviour from Drake's end, why was Kiara not worthy of that as well?

The truth is this. Drake was allowed to express his mean streak to a black woman, bully a black woman (the pranks), lash out at a black woman (the conversation at the Lythikos Ball), suspect a black woman, and finally minimize her trauma if the Duchess he had a crush on wanted to. While being overly protective and chivalrous to the white woman who actually did harm her. No matter what way you spin it, that is what Drake's behaviour - especially in TRR3 - is.

The way the team trampled over this "pairing" post that miniscule hint in TRR3 Ch 7, would make a rampaging elephant look like a ballerina in comparison. They wanted to make it clear after the hiatus that Drake x Kiara would never happen, in any eventuality, in any future, in any universe. And no matter how much we pin this on "crazy stans" (who do hold some responsibility for sure, for their own veiled racism), it's a fact that the writing team was comfortable doing this. They had already found other ways to pile disrespect on their sole recurring black female character - what was a little more?

TRH and Beyond: Taking Away What Was Left of Kiara's Remaining Fanbase

Given all the narrative back-and-forth and shadiness, I'd have to say the end Kiara got in TRR3 was comparatively...decent. Not great...not exactly satisfying...decent.

Her fighting off the assassins at the boutique ("not again...not again!!") was the highlight of that scene. In Hana's playthrough, Kiara was her MOH by default, and the lines the MC could give if you chose her in other playthroughs was pretty sweet. At the end of the book, her father would make Kiara his heir, after her older brother Ezekiel abdicated. There were still things I was always going to hate (such as the fact that we could lie about "having Kiara's back" - we absolutely did not) about the aftermath, but all in all as a fan...I could maybe envision a fairly happy ending for her with what we got.

The next series, The Royal Heir, would debut on June 2019, almost a year after TRR3's own debut. This would be the first series that would go completely LI-divergent, spanning four books. It started out as an attempt to envision the future (and pasts) of the main characters, as well as tie loose ends...but descended into an incoherent, retconning mess with each book.

Kiara doesn't feature much in Book 1, but is pretty prominent in certain chapters like Ch 7 (Savannah's bachelorette), Savannah's wedding, and the Apple Ball in the finale. You'll often find a marked difference between the way she is looked at for most of the book, and how the MC speaks to her in TRH1's finale.

Savannah's bachelorette, for instance, features all the ladies of the court in Texas, with new "country" looks and engaging with Texan culture. Here, too, you see a sign of PB leaning into popular perceptions of Kiara rather than remembering their own writing, when we see how Savannah praises the MC by default but has very little to say about her former friend Kiara. Since Savannah's return to court in TRR3, the team seemed to have forgotten that other ladies of the court weren't very nice to her, and Kiara was the only one concerned for her. They have Olivia act sweet and caring towards Savannah in both TRR3 Ch 17 and TRH1 Ch 7, conveniently forgetting the insults she piled upon Drake's sister in the first book. Savannah never has to talk about Kiara's friendship at all, other than a teasing comment hinting at her French lessons. Savannah was never expected to have any gratitude or affection towards Kiara even though she was the only woman who cared about her in court before she left.

An interesting thing to note in the diamond scene of the bachelorette is the way the courtly ladies' previous/current "romances" are framed. Kiara's, in particular, warrants a lot of discussion. Unlike Olivia (who can address her feelings for Liam regardless of playthrough, if asked, and can actually show some level of resentment towards him for not picking her), Kiara's feelings are addressed only if the MC isn't married to Drake. If she is, Kiara mentions a fondness for "rugged, down-to-earth men" (which the MC and Penelope perceive to mean hunky and muscular), and avoids mentioning his name at all.

There are two very interesting things to note about this sequence. One is the pattern of how, and how far, are Olivia and Kiara are allowed to address their feelings for these men. Not only is Olivia allowed to be open about her feelings and her bitterness (despite Liam actually romancing her in TRR3!), the narrative demands our respect for her position and plight. The Liam MC lauds her honesty and her decision to move ahead, unfazed even by her anger for something Liam didn't even owe her. In contrast, in the Drake playthrough, the writing makes sure Kiara never mentions him by name. And not only that, when the MC and Penelope tease her about her romantic preference, she is shown to stammer and seems downright afraid of the MC.

The fact that there is such a gap in how Olivia and Kiara are allowed to act about the men they love, and the fact that this gap was normalized so much in fandom discourse that it didn't even warrant a discussion, tells us plenty about the fandom too. The fandom position has almost always been that Liam owes Olivia love, appreciation, kindness. And that Drake owes Kiara nothing, not even common human decency. Which is why the fandom wants Liam punished for the high crime of not loving Olivia back. Which is why Drake is allowed to treat Kiara like an irritating pest at his best, and like utter garbage at his worst...and almost no one so much as bats an eyelid.

Since most of the story of TRH1 seemed to revolve around the ranch, the ladies of the court made minimal appearances and most of those were in keeping with patterns established in TRR3 (except for maybe Olivia's spy scenes). Some of their parents - too - feature in Royal Council scenes: Godfrey and Landon are part of this council and are seen during the MC's announcement - no one from Kiara's family, besides her brother Ezekiel who is dating Penelope, make any appearances in this book. Towards the end of the book, however, you suddenly find a scene or two where the narrative is suddenly, and inexplicably, syrupy sweet to Kiara:

(Screenshots from the Skylia YouTube Channel. 1-5 are from Ch 18, during the council meeting. 7-10 are also from Ch 18, at the start of the ball. The last two are from the finale as buildup for the pregnancy photoshoot)

There are indications of Kiara's diplomacy and good advice in other parts of the book too (such as her suggestions for dealing with the foreign royals at the baby shower) but never were the praise and compliments as obvious as they were in the last two chapters of TRH1. Kiara was given a quippy dialogue to spout at Godfrey, who would later be revealed as the murderer of Queen Eleanor. All three of the MC's dialogue options in response would praise Kiara by default (a rarity). King Bradshaw would shower her with compliments too about her talent and expertise. And when Kiara approached us with an offer for a pregnancy photoshoot, the MC could cheerfully say "for you, Kiara? Of course!" as if they'd been bffs from the beginning.

There isn't any obvious reason why we saw this sudden change, but I can make an educated guess or two. A pattern that commonly emerges with attempts to address something that would benefit Kiara, is that the writers often only do it when enough people complain; that was how we got the horrible Lythikos sequence. Midway through TRH1, I managed to put up an essay exploring Kiara's treatment (centered around the Lythikos sequence in TRR3 Ch 12) in comparison to Penelope's and Madeleine's. It did not receive an immediate fandom wide response, but several readers did come away from that essay feeling like Kiara really got the short end of the stick, compared to all the other court ladies. I'm not sure whether that essay had a direct impact, but those three scenes PB added to the finale chapters do make me wonder. Was the team trying to prove to the fandom that they did like Kiara and wouldn't personally sabotage her, either for their own enjoyment or to pander to a section of the fandom?

If they did, then that plan didn't last beyond these two chapters.

Another possibility of course was to give Kiara something slightly positive before they did her dirty - again - in TRH2 and 3. Because in those two books, they managed to first make her - along with the rest of the council - party to a vote (that everyone was involved in, including the LIs!) that would later prove detrimental for the country. They would then have her be the only heir involved in the notorious Coventus Nobilis, which ensured that anyone who wanted to hate Kiara could tie her to her vote in favour of Bartie Sr, without ever asking any further questions. This was a far more successful attempt, because most of the fandom already believed the misconceptions of Kiara's characterization to be truth, and these storylines simply added fuel to the fire.

Kiara's biggest supporters tended to be a section of the Liam fandom, as well as wlw stans who tended to like most of the courtly women. Having her vote for Bartie at the end of TRH2, and her explanations in TRH3 about the "MC's ruling style" (which was really canon's way of making sure she did more a silent diss on Liam) was written specifically to place a serious dent among her fans who liked Liam. And sadly, it worked in part. Because even if one considered Kiara's thoughts on "reactive ruling" accurate, it was a fact that the nobility (she included) would have to be blaming Liam for something that the entire Council voted for, and that Liam and his friends fixed on their own.

Making Kiara the lone person to voice this argument, made her a target in this fandom. I mean, people were ready to praise Madeleine and speak of her as loyal (eagerly ignoring that she was actively involved in the child's kidnapping if you didn't coddle her enough), and badmouth Kiara in the same breath, claiming that Kiara wasn't worth forgiving and people should just get over Madeleine's deeds in the past.

This resurgence of hate didn't just erupt out of nowhere. Once they finished spending two chapters on two-second compliments to Kiara, PB reverted in the next two books to some of their usual patterns with her. For instance, remember how I mentioned that PB had an obsession with never letting Kiara and Liam interact? In TRH, they repeated this pattern, but with the Heir. The only scene Kiara has where she can so much as touch the heir is in the last part of TRH3, if you choose for Kiara to read to her. Penelope is regularly allowed to hold her even though she has often placed this child in dangerous situations (on one occasion, Kiara herself had to stop her) - even Madeleine is given an entire babysitting scene to win her favour. But Kiara is the only lady of the court who is made to stay away or care for the child from a distance.

Kiara's family (besides Zeke, and just because he is Penelope's fiance/husband) is subject to disrespect in this book too. Hakim and Joelle were both conspicuously absent from the pregnancy announcement presscon in TRH1 (where Landon, Godfrey and Bartie Sr somehow featured!!), and future books would either retcon the family or force them to do things the other families didn't have to do. In TRH2, the MC takes a tour of the Great Houses with her newborn daughter, and each house is expected to pledge loyalty to her and the crown in different ways. Hakim is written as "bending to his knees" for the child. This is something only Adeleide and Madeleine - whose house, might I remind you, are considered the house of traitors at this point - have to do. Landon and Emmeline are never expected to express their loyalty to this extent.

In TRH3, the narrative callously pushes the Therons under the bus to make the Ebrim family's reluctance to help the MC make sense - the Therons are now "traditionalists" who frown upon scandals and may not allow Zeke to marry Penelope on the account of her past annulled marriage (this makes no sense when you take a closer look at the Therons themselves in TRR3 - they're a far more balanced, far more progressive family than any of the other Great Houses. They even took Zeke's abdication well!). Furthermore, you'll notice that the framing of Penelope's past with Guy is worlds apart from the disdain the narrative shows for the Therons during the flower festival. It is notable that in the latter, the black women are depicted very negatively - Kiara is shown unable to manage her own competition, Joelle is depicted as pompous and incapable of losing gracefully, Drake gets to take sarcastic potshots at Lerato for trying to charm the MC into voting for her and Drake into convincing her to vote. Meanwhile white people like Landon and Marguerite are presented in a just as humourous but less mocking light (eg. Landon moving his table courteously before flipping it in the flashback).

Even into TRF (Ch12), the narrative gives us choices where we can stand up to people criticizing Landon and Emmeline's parenting ("Duke Landon and his wife raised a kind, generous daughter..."). We are allowed to be far less critical of the Ebrims overall, we are allowed to be more charitable even in the dialogue options for suspecting Landon than we are of Kiara (think of how Maxwell can suspect that Kiara was planning to betray us all along). At the end of the Flower Festival, Kiara is made to appear contrite as the MC can choose to either demand she make this right before the latter can forgive her, or indicate that she never will. Ironically, a Penelope who can choose her fancy wedding over the safety of the MC's child never has to face words that harsh.

You will also notice if you look more closely, that the narrative continues to frame events surrounding Penelope and Kiara in opposing ways. Penelope is perpetually viewed as a victim, and Kiara constantly as a suspect.

We are expected to support Penelope, and to mistrust Kiara. And even though Kiara's feelings had long since become a thing of the past, Drake still maintains his animosity towards her and her family. And like everything else, it is so normalized at this point that you barely even notice it anymore.

In TRH2, Drake is allowed to tar all nobles with the same brush because of Godfrey's actions. Though his statement about the nobility ("We can't trust any of them to have Liam's back...not unless it's in their own selfish interests") is about the entire nobility, it is striking that he says this just before they go to Castelserraillan. The Therons are also the only noble family that Drake makes sarcastic comments about (in reference to Liam informing us that their province is a trade hub, Drake quips that "they are going to want to trade babies with us"). These snide comments he rarely makes about other noble families, and serves as a sharp contrast to how he treats the Ebrims (during Penelope's wedding festivities, he is unnaturally invested in Penelope getting a happy ending with Ezekiel). We can't even claim that his behaviour towards Kiara is in line with his disdain for nobles, because Penelope is proof that he is perfectly capable of showing compassion to most of them!

TRH3 ends with Kiara doing an apology tour of sorts - diplomatic missions aimed at improving Cordonia's international relations. TRF finds almost all the ladies of the court - even Olivia - in very minimal roles, as the focus shifts to the Via Imperii. Still, the narrative makes more references to Penelope than to Kiara, to the extent that the epilogue ends on both the MC and Penelope celebrating their pregnancies (Penelope's first and the MC's second) together.

Overall, you will find that the narrative repeated certain patterns with Kiara - the tendency to find her suspicious, purposely limiting scenes with important characters like Liam (TRR) and the heir (TRH) while the white courtiers get almost unlimited access, the discrepancies in expectations for her vs other ladies (eg. Madeleine is hailed for being "good" even though that is solely dependent on how you treat her. Kiara is largely ignored whenever she does help, and attacked when she is written to support the enemy). Drake - even as a former alternative to her, who should have gotten over whatever nonsense beef he'd had with her earlier - is allowed to make snide remarks about her home and family.

It's pretty clear they could do this because they could get away with it... because most of the fandom made it so easy for them to get away with it.

Fandom

When I look back at how the perception of Kiara in the fandom progressed over the years, I find it half-amusing, half-sad how much of it is rooted more in fanlore, and how little in actual fact. And this is something you couldn't just pin on "crazy Drake stans" - they were the biggest promoters of these lies and misconceptions, sure, but normally analytical, commonsense readers often believed that Kiara was fake and a snob and awful to Penelope too.

I get some of it, given the timing of Kiara and Penelope's scene at the beginning of TRR2. It takes place at a low point in the MC's story, a time when she isn't even sure the LIs want to support her. Coupled with that is the lasting image of Penelope hugging you and complaining about Madeleine, making you feel like she's more willing to give you a sliver of solidarity. Coupled with that, is Olivia's newfound popularity in the fandom - once she emerges in Ch 5 of that book, fans believed they found their wildcard who would stand by them in complete solidarity among the ladies of the court (did they ignore Hana's already massive contributions to the investigation? Yes they did. Yes they did). Madeleine herself is shown giving quotable quotes about female solidarity and Tariq's guilt in TRR2 Ch 7, which - coupled with Justin's high praise of her - made people want to find things to like about her too. Penelope's own betrayal was overshadowed by an expectation to support a person with serious mental health struggles.

Kiara's the only one who doesn't get such backstories or explanations. So at least in the heat of the moment, in reading those chapters between weekly gaps, it makes sense that a false impression of her got somewhat solidified.

But when you build your interpretations out of lies and misinterpretations, how does it become so valid that even the writers bend to it and prefer to show that?

Every fandom has its "crazy stans". And this instance wouldn't be the first or last time they are pandered to. But when the same stans get backed up by the "saner", more commonsense members of fandom; when even neutral readers promote versions of a story without actually looking at the scenes in question - that's when a fandom is in danger of turning a "headcanon" into canon.

Kiara being a horrible friend to Penelope wasn't canon. Kiara being a snob was not canon. Kiara being creepy towards Drake wasn't canon either. Especially when you take the fandom response to Olivia's forced kiss on Liam into account.

And that brings me to another point. I had been asked once why I felt the need to compare Kiara to the other ladies in my defenses of her. It's important, when we speak of the kind of hate Kiara received, to understand how a lot of flaws that the entire court has (eg classism) is often pinned onto a lone person, and how several white female characters could get away with worse behaviour while Kiara alone was slammed for harmless interactions.

This is most apparent when you look at how Olivia's violation of Liam's consent is perceived, vs Kiara's harmless flirtation with Drake in TRR2. Which woman had fans foaming at the mouth and wanting to kill her? Which woman was given dozens and dozens of fanfic and content that depicted her as creepy, desperate, downright obsessed with their man? Which woman got the "oh well, he doesn't owe her anything 🤷🏽‍♀️" vs a "he doesn't love her back?? WHAT AN INSENSITIVE ASSHOLE!!1111"?

Perhaps this Olivia/Kiara comparison is where the fandom's tendency to cast Kiara into the Jezebel stereotype is the most visible. Kiara's very act of talking to Drake sometimes is registered as a threat to those stans, and it reflects in the way they speak of her, the way they speak of their MC's own relationship with Drake in association with her (eg. the number of posts rejoicing at the thought of showing off their "engaged to Drake" status at Kiara's estate), the way they're allowed to dehumanize her and villify her (eg. The edit I mentioned at the beginning). This is often encouraged by their friends who are fans of other characters, and you can see that in sharp contrast, Olivia - despite her actions in Book 1 and her resentment of Liam for not loving her back in other books - is still often viewed with sympathy and respect. Her feelings - still viewed as genuine, even pure. To the point where PB eventually allows Olivia to constantly address her feelings about the MC's and Liam's relationship, while forcing Kiara to not even utter Drake's name in his playthrough.

But you see this with other characters, and in other contexts too. Particularly how Madeleine can be duplicitous, hypocritical, and power-hungry, and it's Kiara who is called these things despite her actual honesty in canon. Madeleine can get away with actually helping Bartie Sr kidnap the MC's daughter in TRH3 without a murmur, in the same fandom where people can curse Kiara for voting for Bartie Sr "to take the child away" (despite her telling the MC and spouse that she was promised they would have custody of the child, therefore the claim that she "voted to take the child away from their parent" is inaccurate).

You saw some of these discrepancies in how Penelope and Kiara were spoken about too - Penelope's crime in TRR2 was considered easily forgiveable, while Kiara's innocence is constantly called into question. Kiara was often viewed negatively for what the fandom perceived as "meanness" to Penelope (when it was in fact Kiara worrying about how Penelope would fare when she wasn't around) while Penelope herself was never expected to be a good friend to Kiara. An interesting thing to note about the fandom response to Penelope and Kiara showed that often when posters wanted to hate on Penelope, she and Kiara would be clubbed together, almost as a unit. This was especially prevalent in TRH3. It was easy to express hatred for Kiara independently, but most posts that showed a dislike for Penelope (besides from specific Kiara stans) would often tie her with Kiara, as if there wasn't much to hate about her otherwise.

It is important to line up whatever hate Kiara gets with the responses to the other women - especially in the face of what the latter are allowed to get away with. In doing so, you get a better sense of what is allowed for a certain subset of women, and what isn't allowed or permitted for black women specifically.

Often, the fans who would not hesitate to call her alone fake, opportunistic and creepy were WOC, and there have been cases where some would use their identity as WOC to shield themselves from the criticism concerning their vitriol. It would often descend into "I don't hate her because she is black, I hate her because {insert inaccurate/false/convoluted justification here}". It didn't matter that much of this information wasn't based in fact, or had a heavy bias that they never applied to anyone else. It only mattered that because they were WOC, somehow that meant that they couldn't possibly be racist. That their unfounded hatred for Kiara had to be legitimate. As if there was no chance that someone who was WOC couldn't be antiblack too. I mean, the ultimate proof of this could be found in TRR itself - the two head writers of the TRR/H/F series' are Asian women - who have a pattern of liking mean (white) women, and who didn't mind throwing the black woman and her black family in their story repeatedly under the bus, who didn't mind minimizing and retconning the abuse and childhood trauma that the darker-skinned Asian woman in their story went through.

Overall, it is possible that the fandom did take some of their cues (for their impression of Kiara) from the inherent disdain found in canon itself. But many of them also misinterpreted several things about Kiara, then didn't bother to revisit those biases with a critical eye, or even try to see if they were wrong. And that baseless hatred fed the already-existing disdain that Kiara's own writers had towards her. Resulting in the kind of horrific, racist garbage that we got to see in TRR3, and the constant attempts in canon to pull her down in TRH.

Did Drake and Kiara Ever Have A Chance?

There have been various opinions - from both Kiara fans and haters - for why a Driara ship would never work. He hates nobles, she won't like his disdain for art and culture, he likes the simpler life, she's a snob...so on and so forth. Many people will agree it's not a great ship, but of course with differing opinions on why.

I, however, often wondered at possible scenarios where such a pairing could work. The magic of shipping is often that you can play around with personalities and pair almost anyone, and find enough reasons to explain why they would tick. And in Drake and Kiara's case, personally, I do feel like it's a complicated question to answer - primarily because I feel like the authorial intent at the beginning may have been very, very different to what finally happened in Drake's story.

A lot of Drake's early writing focused on the reasons behind his mistrust of the court and his tendency to view the people he loves who are part of it (eg. Liam and later the group) as anomalies. There are two ways you could take such a story in TRR2 - you could either get him to admit to the flaws in his own thinking (thereby providing a more nuanced insight) and allow him to grow from there, or you could just have him double down on his biases and never change beyond the superficial. The team of TRR - esp the head writers, Kara and Jen who were both v fond of him - definitely seemed to go in the latter direction.

Drake's prediction in Coney Island does indicate that he should let go of the past, and I honestly feel like the sequences where he learned about Maxwell straining House Beaumont's finances to help her, and Kiara and Savannah's friendship, could have been turning points for him if the writers weren't so obsessed with proving him right all the time - even when he was supposed to be wrong. Maxwell and Kiara, in their own ways, were proof that not every noble was the same, nor would every noble treat the commoners around them all the same way. However, the narrative trampled all over this possibility in TRR2 Ch 9, where Drake could optionally claim that the Beaumont brothers (among others) were "just looking out for themselves, no matter the consequences", or later when the narrative had Savannah be grateful to him for breaking her confidence to Bertrand, and have Maxwell try to earn his forgiveness in Ch 12 rather than the other way around. It allowed Drake to be selective about the nobles he admired or defended, while still free to treat certain others like garbage.

I could easily envision a Driara pairing for most of TRR2. I could even see it as potentially salvageable in certain parts of TRR3. But the moment they had Drake readily suspect her, the moment the team thought it would be okay for Drake to even suggest minimizing her trauma...that option was no longer worth seeing. Not for Drake, but for Kiara. Drake would have to be the worst possible guy I could find for her, in such a scenario.

But I could see potential in a storyline that had Drake understand that some of these people weren't the monsters he so desperately wanted them to be. In one where he could hear about Kiara's friendship with his sister, and learn about a whole new side of her. One where he maybe felt insecure ("I'm not her type") and could be reassured by a woman who had likely held a torch for him since they were teens/young adults. One where they could reach out to each other in their pain and trauma, and find solace. One where Drake knew that the family he may be marrying into would respect him, and his father too. There were possibilities there.

It would still take more work - his mean streak for one would need to be reduced by more than a half. A lot of it, of course, was kept for the Drake stans, but it really doesn't add much to Drake's character besides making him a mean-spirited, hypocritical bitch who only targets the lone black woman this way (and Olivia occasionally, if she goads him). If the narrative did want to keep a characterization where Drake acts weird around the girl he likes, they could - but that story would need a lot more work to be palatable.

All of this is to say that regardless of personal bias, there were possibilities there. There was a sliver of potential. And if they wanted to let go of that potential midway, they didn't have to go about that the way they finally did. They could have just worked on creating another love interest for her. They managed to create a brother for her overnight just so Penelope could have a boyfriend; they could have easily done the same for Kiara.

Multiple factors went down that explain why the Driara ship didn't take off. But many of them boil down to one specific root cause - the white women (whether they caused actual harm or not) needed to be protected, needed to be cherished. The black woman who dared to ask for the same things from their pet LI, would be viewed as a threat, a villain, a creep...just for breathing in his direction.

And her writers cared so little, that they took the fanon perception for her and stamped it onto their canon, like it was the truth.

They didn't do any of this for the woman who forced a kiss on a prominent LI. They didn't do this on the woman who betrayed the MC and set her up for assault. They didn't do this to the woman who bullied the lone female LI, and swore to continue doing so till she broke.

They did this for the one woman who was fairly innocent of most of these crimes, actually respected the LI and treated him well.

They did this because they could get away with it. Because they were confident that the fandom they wrote the story for, would let them get away with it. And tragically...they were right.

Resources I used to learn about the Jezebel stereotype:

The "Offending" Breast of Janet Jackson: Public Discourse Surrounding the Jackson/Timberlake Performance at Super Bowl XXXVIII by Dr Shannon Holland

Janet Jackson, Justin Timberlake, the Jezebel and white masculinity by Khadija Mbowe (I actually got the recommendation for the first paper from this video essay).

From Mammy to Jezebel: The Portrayal of Black Women in American Cinema from the BlackThen website

#kiara theron #anti drake walker #anti the royal romance #essay series: trr's alternative lis #long post

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