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troublesomesnitch · 4 months

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Phonesex with Aemond

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Modern AU - Aemond calls you after the dinner fight, and you cheer him up in the best way you can.

Contents: some quick smut. New relationship, mentions of oral sex, p in v sex and brief anal exploration (f receiving).

Warnings: brief mention of terminal illness.

Words: 3300

Thank you @arcielee for test-reading, tidying and generally helping out with this little experimental fic!

It has been six days since Aemond kissed you goodbye and shoved his skis and his snow gear and his aluminium suitcase into the back of a taxi. Six days, and you haven't heard from him since, not a single message, and no indication that he's read yours either. Six days, and the farewell kiss was just a sterile peck on the side of your mouth, because the driver was watching, and Aemond was in a foul mood already.

You suppose the thought of two weeks with one's extended family can do that to a person. And especially when one's family is as messy as Aemond's.

They're in the tabloids sometimes, Aegon with a model on his arm, Rhaenyra spotted topless in Ibiza, Viserys leaving the hospital looking more dead than alive. Old money, and every bit the stereotype too, with their luncheons and country estates and public feuds over inheritance. And the incident, of course. But Aemond never talks about that.

The family trip is solely his father's idea. Or, his father's command, really. His final wish; that they should all spend one last Christmas together at the chalet, eating venison and going cross-country skiing and whatever else rich people do on their alpine retreats. It is all very Town & Country, so far removed from anything you know. They have a coat of arms, for fucks sake, and Aemond wears it engraved on the back of his watch; on the cufflinks that sit in a velvet box atop his dresser. For special occasions, and you'd be lying if you said the thought had never crossed your mind: Aemond in coat and tie and cufflinks, yourself decked out in white and his mother's antique veil. Champagne fountain and monogrammed napkins and an article in Vogue Weddings. Double spread.

But you're getting way ahead of yourself. You have only been seeing each other for about three months, and it is still very new and foreign. Terrifying as well, and your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing and Aemond's name lights up on the screen.

Six days, and it's a quarter to midnight now, so that almost makes it seven.

"Hey," he says softly. "Did I wake you?"

"No!“ you exclaim, a little too excitedly despite your efforts to sound casual. “I was just watching something. How's St. Moritz?"

"Fine," he says, but it doesn't sound at all convincing, and there's a faint sound in the background. Like a scraping noise, and you imagine that he's picking at his cuticles; at the little chips in his nails.

"Aemond," you call, somewhat alarmed by the silence. "Is everything okay?"

The scraping gets louder before it finally stops and Aemond says sort of.

There was a fight at supper, apparently. An actual fight, with punching and shoving and everything. Straight out of Real Housewives, only even more insane, and Aemond started it, because of course he did. And all because of a stupid joke his nephew made.

"Isn't he like, fourteen?" you ask, and Aemond sighs on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," he mutters. "Something like that".

Jesus.

You are tempted to ask him why he would do such a thing, but you kind of already know. Because of his father, because of his sister, because of the incident. Because Viserys would rather dote on his grandsons than his own children, and because Aemond has chronic pains, and the prosthetic gets itchy, and he dented his car when he couldn't see how close that concrete pillar actually was.

And probably also because he doesn't hold his liquor very well.

"Aemond, you're a grown man," you begin, and your voice is kind and gentle, but you can almost hear how he's pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I understand why you'd be upse - angry, but like. He's a child."

"I know," he sighs, shuffling around with something. "I shouldn't have done it.”

There's the click of a lighter and then a deep exhale as he blows out smoke, and it reminds you of when you first met. You used to watch Aemond all the time before you worked up the courage to talk to him. He would lean so leisurely against the wall, cigarette in hand and that haughty smirk on his lips; leather jacket, black jeans, hair artfully tousled and tied back. Tall and handsome and just so fucking cool.

"Thought you quit," you tease, and it sounds a little chiding, but it isn't meant like that.

"I did," Aemond says. "I got this one from my uncle - it would have been rude to decline.”

He is quiet then, but it's a sort of contemplative silence. Like somehow you can feel there is more.

"It pisses me off," he finally says. "This whole charade - it's exhausting.”

Yes, you think. It must be. All of his family trapped under the same roof, forced to confront so many painful memories, yet act as though none of it ever happened. Smile and laugh and play house, and all so Viserys Targaryen can pretend he was a better man. Go to his grave with the comfortable illusion that he did not create the rift that tore his family apart.

If Aemond was with you right now, you would wrap your arms around him and kiss his face and his lovely hands, but all you can do at this moment is give a weak yeah, I understand.

"It has been the most miserable week," he moans. "Although - Aegon did fall off a lift today. He's fine, it was just a T-bar. But that was fun."

You giggle. "Oh, poor Aegon.”

"It was his own fault," Aemond snorts. "He had Jägerbombs for lunch. Anyway - " he clears his throat, back to the brooding mood and somber voice. "I'm sorry I called you so late. And for not being in touch. And for... everything else.”

"It's fine," you shrug. "I don't mind. But, Aemond - " you pause, thinking of how best to word the next part, "I think you should at least consider apologising to -"

"No." he cuts in. "Absolutely not.”

There's an awkward silence then, and you worry you might have overstepped your boundaries. He is so difficult to read sometimes, so elusive. You never quite know what he needs from you, sympathy, or flattery, or reassurance, or nothing at all.

You can, however, think of a way to distract him from his brooding. And maybe sex isn't the healthiest way to cope with one's issues, but still. It is miles better than beating up family members.

You twirl a lock of hair around your finger, even though he can’t see it. "What are you doing right now? Are you alone?"

“Yes,“ he says, curious. “Why?”

"What are you wearing?"

"Same thing I always wear," he responds, but then his voice turns coy and teasing, and he asks "what are you wearing?"

You look down at your fuzzy socks, your faded shorts, the worn-out knickers underneath.

"Honestly? Not anything nice."

Aemond laughs, a real laugh this time, and then he tells you just make something up.

The first thing that comes to your mind is that dress you saw the other day. Aemond would like it. He is not into extravagant lingerie and things like that, always likes it best when you are just you. Dry patches on your lips, bruises on your legs and all. Natural.

But he is still a man though. So, not too natural.

"I'm wearing - I'm wearing a little slip. Silk, and it's the prettiest colour. It is soft to the touch," - you run a finger up your thigh, imagining it - "and it is very short. My legs are out and everything. And my tits look so good in it.”

"They always do," Aemond says, and he sounds a little husky when he asks what is underneath?

"Those panties you liked last time. With the little bows on them?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "I remember.”

"Good. Just the panties, and nothing else. And the dress is so thin - it feels like nothing when you touch it."

You lay back on top of your bed, your hand working its way down the waistband of your sleeping shorts, phone pressed to your ear.

"I want to touch you," Aemond sighs, voice all soft and gentle. "I want to feel your body against mine.”

You blush. He is quite the romantic sometimes. Jesus, Aemond is so out of your league. You can hardly believe he'd even look in your direction, let alone kiss you and hold you and let you sleep with your head on his chest.

"Aemond" you whisper, slowly stroking your between your legs. "I'm getting all wet. All wet for you".

His breath hitches, and there's a faint oh, followed by the rustling of fabric as he palms himself over his pants. Lowering his voice and breathing touch yourself.

"I already am" you purr. "I wish it was you, though. Wish you could feel how much I want you."

Aemond says fuck, he wishes that too. You're getting him so hard. So hard just thinking about your pretty cunt.

"I'd like to suck your cock" you sigh longingly, and he immediately responds with a sharp breath that makes warmth spread in your stomach.

"Wait -" he mutters. "Hang on".

You hear the metallic clink of his belt, the sound of his zipper, and you bite your lip thinking about what he's doing. Taking his stiff cock in hand, brushing slender fingers along the shaft, running a thumb over the tip to collect the little drops that have already leaked from it. He has the prettiest cock, long and thick and veiny. Uncut, and blushing red at the tip when you slide his foreskin back.

How you wish you could feel it in your mouth.

"Tell me how you'd do it" Aemond pleads, and there's a slight strain in his voice that suits it so well.

"I'll start out slow," you whisper, "with just my tongue and my hand. Get your cock big and hard before I take you in my mouth. And then I'll wrap my lips around the head, and I'll press my tongue against the little slit there. And - and I’ll lick the tip of your cock until you’re begging me for more.”

He sighs, and you can hear how his hand settles into a steady rhythm, up and down over his hard cock. Filthy.

You close your eyes and continue.

"I'd take you so deep, all the way to the back of my throat. And I would tease you - I'd be real fucking mean. I want you leaking in my mouth, all needy and desperate for me. Like, so you can barely hold it back anymore. You'd be ready to explode.”

"Don't stop - " he pants, still keeping up the stroking, pausing just briefly to spit into his hand.

"I'll edge you before I let you come. So many times, you'll be desperate for release. I want your balls so tight and heavy - all tender from how much you need to come - ”

Aemond moans, and he's stroking himself faster, tugging and tugging and filling his bedroom with damp, lewd noises. You know how he likes it; firm grip when he moves up, slack going back down, slight twist at the tip.

"And then?"

"I'd let you come in my mouth."

"No," he breathes. "I want to come inside of you.”

You give a little giggle; he always wants that. Occasionally he’ll finish all over your breasts, or in your mouth, but mostly he likes it the old fashioned way. Your bodies molded together and his cock pulsing deep inside of you. Pressing his forehead to yours or moaning into the back of neck.

You like that too - but there are other things you might like to try as well.

"You should come on my panties," you say coyly. "Like, inside them. And then I'd wear them all day, and just walk around with your cum between my legs.”

Aemond groans again, loudly, hoarse and strained and so fucking hot.

"You'd like that?" you tease. "I would feel it there all day. All wet and warm in my little panties. Right against my cunt."

"Fuck," he moans. "Fuck - I'd like that so much."

The sounds of his tugging get louder and faster, and you picture him laid out on his bed, cock throbbing in his hand, hips thrusting up and up into his own grip. Lone eye closed and mouth falling open.

He lets out a soft moan, and a whine - and then the stroking abruptly stops. Close call, that one. Aemond curses, and you can hear him taking deep breaths, calming his body, halting the mounting need to ejaculate. Too soon.

“Can't wait to have you,” he mutters, and you give a quiet hum in response.

“Please tell me how.”

He takes a slow, steadying breath.

"I want to be on top of you" he whispers, low, so no one will hear. "Don't care if you're on your back or what, as long as you're underneath me".

"I'd be on my stomach. You can fuck me from behind".

“Yes,” he sighs. “I want to put my cock so deep inside you. I want you to feel how hard you make me. And I'll pin you down - I'll hold you in place when I take you" - his voice goes all ragged as he starts to slowly stroke his cock again - "fuck you're so beautiful when you're under me."

You mewl, and Aemond’s breath hitches.

“Yeah, and I'll fuck you slow, but hard. I want you squirming on my cock…” he trails off, and for a moment there is only the sound of heavy breathing, his and yours.

You had paused your own ministrations before, too focused on finding the right words, but now you begin your gentle stroking again. Underneath your knickers, fingers massaging right over your clit, so good that you let out a little whimper.

“I love feeling you inside of me” you breathe, “I love it when you lie on top of me - ”

“Yeah?” He gasps, and you bite your lip.

“Yeah. And I love it when you touch my - ass. Oh It feels so good when you touch me like that…”

Just saying it makes you a little flustered. You would not consider yourself very prudish, but there are some things that make you feel bashful, and this is one of them, the things he does to your backside when you’re together. And Aemond knows, and maybe that makes it even more arousing for him, the filthiness of it, the taboo.

“How” he moans, his tone urgent and so incredibly intimate. “How do you want me to touch you -”

You have to take a very deep breath before you continue - you feel so sheepish, talking about that, but you are a woman in love, so for Aemond you’ll do your best.

“I want you to slide your hand down my back and in between my cheeks,” you whisper, blushing all over. “It makes me so wet… feels so good when you caress me there - when you brush your fingers right over my tight little hole while you’re fucking me - maybe next time I’ll let you slip one inside…“

Aemond gives a strangled groan at that, quickening his strokes and hissing oh fuck. He is so close now, you can hear it.

“Say my name” he begs, breathing so fast and tugging frantically on his cock. All hard and swollen now, his hips thrusting up, his balls pulling tight; oh you can imagine it so easily.

“Aemond” you whisper. “Aemond, my love” - he moans louder, strokes harder - Aemond, I want you to fuck me, I want to feel your big, hard cock -

Aemond chokes out a sob, and you say his name one last time as he reaches his peak.

He holds back when he comes, muffling the helpless groans and grunts that you always love so much. But you can hear his strained sighs, his ragged breaths, and the sound is only slightly distorted through the speaker. If you close your eyes it's like he's there with you, gasping right in your ear.

Oh you can’t wait to see him again, to get to touch him, cuddle up to him at night and run your finger down the perfect angle of his nose.

"You didn't come," Aemond says, accusingly, and you hold back a chuckle because he doesn't like it when you laugh at him. But it is as amusing as it is sweet, this need of his to do everything to perfection. Like if every time he is intimate with you isn't the BEST sex of your life, then he has failed as a lover; as a man.

“I did it on purpose” you reassure. “I'm saving it for you. All for you. Only for you.”

Aemond gives a somewhat dissatisfied hum, but he is occupied with something else now, moving around and fiddling with things. Cleaning himself up, you suppose. If only you were there to do it for him, you'd lick his cum right off his skin.

There is a loud noise in the background all of a sudden, someone knocking on Aemond’s door, and he scrambles to make himself presentable and tells you to hang on. The sounds are muffled - you assume he is covering the microphone - but you can hear another man's voice, and Aemond saying yes, I'll be right down, and then just fuck off, will you when the intruder won't take a hint.

"Sorry about that," he says awkwardly. "Aegon wants to go out. I should go with him".

You giggle at the thought - it is difficult to imagine Aemond at one of those tacky aprés-ski bars, glow stick and vodka-cranberry in hand. “Sounds fun!”

"Yeah, well, my mother would want me to,” he says sullenly. "You know, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.”

"What's the age of consent in Switzerland?" you jest, but Aemond just gives an exasperated sigh and mutters too bloody low.

You pause, unsure of what to say next, and again there's that loaded silence until he clears his throat.

"I will tell them about you. My family - I'll tell them soon. I promise.”

You can feel heat rising in your cheeks.

Aemond purposely keeps you far away from his family, and he’ll go to great lengths to avoid running into them when you’re together. In fact he prefers not to go out at all, and you have never questioned it or complained. He’s got you hook, line and sinker - could tell you right to your face that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, and you would still be at his beck and call.

You shrug. “It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't have to tell them. It's fine.”

“No it isn't,” he says gravely. “You're important to me. So I should treat you as such.”

He says something else after that too, but you aren't listening, still stuck on the words you just heard. You're important to me. You're important.

It makes your heart leap with joy, and you are only pulled back to reality when Aemond calls out your name, and then sweetheart?

He doesn't call you that very often. It is always so nice when he does.

“Sorry” you blush. “I zoned out. But - I've missed you. I miss you. It's nice to hear your voice again.”

There's no way to tell, but somehow you feel like Aemond is smiling.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yours too.”

You tell him to have fun with Aegon and whatever horrid establishment they end up at, and Aemond tells you goodnight and says he'll call you as soon as he's back home. He doesn't say he misses you too, but that's okay. You know he does.

Because you're important.

#modern aemond x reader #modern aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x you

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destinationweddings · 11 months

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#wedding planner #wedding #weddings #couples #love #beach wedding #bride #destination wedding #indian wedding #relationship #Ibiza #Spain #Luxury bride #bride and groom

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auteurdelabre · 3 months

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Please Mr. Miller Sequel part 2 bfd!Joel x f!Reader

summary: You're moving on from Joel Miller and looking to a bright future with your bf, Conrad. When Mr. Miller comes to visit Sarah for spring break however, old feelings start to resurface.

A sequel (1 of 5 parts now) to my "Please Mr. Miller?" Series because you voted and you want to see these two horny idiots as endgame! Photo is for aesthetic purposes.

rating: 18+ (GET OUTTA HERE KIDS!!!!)

warnings/tags: Infidelity, age gap, angst, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, public sex, public fingering, not sanitary but sexy, mutual pining, jealousy.

a/n: Y'all between here and A03 i've got such an outpouring of comments and support for this story. I thank you so kindly for following along with the adventures of my two favorite horny sluts. Comments are what keep me goin'.

masterlist here

-------------------------------

Fuck Joel Miller.

You're over him. You've got a loyal boyfriend, you've been accepted into the master's program you wanted and you've never been happier.

Okay, not happier but content.

And some people never get content. Content you can live with. Happiness is reserved for girls that don’t pursue and foolishly fall for married men. Happiness is reserved for girls that don’t lie to their best friend’s face about who they talk to.

Sarah had been wide-eyed when you opened the bathroom door at the pub last month.

“Who were you talking to?”

Your stomach had sunk and the room seemed to get dimmer, more muted. You went to speak but all that came out was a baleful croak.

“It was him wasn’t it?” she pressed, eyes bright. “The guy you’re pining over? The married guy?”

Relief, acute and refreshing like a cup of cool water soothed your frazzled expression. She didn’t know everything.

“Yeah.”

“Sounded intense.”

“A moment of weakness,” you shrugged.

“His name’s Joe?”

“Huh?” Your stomach swooped violently. “What did you just say?”

“I heard,” Sarah said with a knowing smile. “I was about to open the door when I heard you say I can’t stop wanting you, Joe.”

You wanted to give a high pitched laugh at her mistake, but instead you nodded violently. She didn’t hear your plaintive moans of Joel’s full name. So yes, its Joe. Not Joel. Never Joel. Couldn’t be Joel Miller, your father, the man you want more than air and water. No, just a married guy named Joe.

“Yeah. Joe.”

“Just dump Conrad,” Sarah urged, hands on yours, compassion in her eyes. If she only knew. You knew Sarah had a high moral compass. You knew that she hated that you were pining over some married guy.

“I don’t need to dump Conrad. Nothing is happening between me and this guy,” you said motioning to your phone in your pocket. “I want him he doesn’t want me. I’m moving on.”

And so you did.

Conrad worships you and tomorrow is the first day of spring break. Conrad has suggested a week away at a spa in Ibiza (he'll pay for everything of course with Daddy and Mummy’s credit card) and you're eager to go. It’s a mere forty eight hours before you're pampered and spoiled with your handsome boyfriend.

And yet your thoughts continue to linger on a home on Rancher Street, in the arms of a man who wears a wedding band snugly around his finger. A man who’s voice sends you into a frenzy and the memories of your forbidden time together have you slick between the legs.

But he’s not for you.

He never was.

///

“Okay Dad, see you soon.”

Sarah hangs up just as you come back from the shower, hair still damp and dressed in your plush pink terrycloth robe.

“Do you think that new restaurant on campus is any good?” she says as she taps away on her phone. “My dad’s taking me for dinner when he gets here. Hopefully they have an opening for tonight.”

She continues swiping on her phone, unaware of the stricken expression on your face.

"I thought your Dad was coming Saturday," you say sharply. "After Conrad and I leave. That way I wouldn't be in your hair and you’d have the dorm to yourself."

"He said the airline cancelled tomorrow’s flight and rescheduled him on this one," Sarah shrugs. "Its fine, he got a hotel room so you don't have to worry about being in the way. Besides he loved you last time! Last week he even asked how you were doing. He's never been that nice to any of my other friends."

You drop the toiletry bag you were carrying; mumbling out an apology before dropping to your knees to retrieve it, hoping Sarah can’t see your red face.

Joel is asking about you? Why? After his drunken phone call he'd been radio silent. You had been as well, feeling used. You try not to think about him.

You need to get out of here.

You blow-dry your hair in a rush before applying your makeup in a hurry as Sarah studies in the tufted chair by the window. She doesn’t notice your frenzy of getting ready or if she does she doesn’t comment on it.

“Excited for Ibiza?”

“Mhmm,” you say as you pull on your skirt and top. “Very. I think I’m gonna go over to Con's dorm and go over last minute plans for tomorrow.”

“Things seem better between you two,” Sarah offers hopefully.

“Yeah,” you lie through your teeth as you pull on your purse. “Have a nice visit with your Dad.”

You give her a quick hug, fumbling for your keys as you stuff them in your bag. You open the door as you slip on your shoes, letting out a small oh as the door reveals a large figure standing behind it.

Him.

Joel.

Everything in your body comes alive at once. His eyes widen at the sight of you, a look that travels the length of your body before landing limpid and warm on your face. You watch the lust overtake his eyes, blowing the pupils wide. His hand clenches at his right, so tight you see the veins bulge.

Time has only added to the masculine curve of his nose, the sharp of his jaw. You don’t have photos of him and social media had given up nothing. You only had some old blurry Polaroids on Sarah’s vanity mirror to go off of. He lived in your memory so long that actually seeing him here in front of you takes the breath from your body.

You’re so thankful for the tall young man behind him wearing a football jersey that slowly comes into view behind Joel. He’s handsome with an easy smile and large hands that seem too big for his lanky frame.

“Sarah,” you call over your shoulder, your eyes never leaving Joel’s. “Your Dad is here and I think he brought you a surprise.”

Sarah rounds the corner of the room, her eyes landing on Charlie and she squeals.

“Charlie!”

You move back so that Charlie can drop his bag and move into the dorm room, sweeping Sarah up into his arms and twirling her giggling self. You force yourself to look away from the motion, bitterly jealous that it isn’t you and Joel. Instead your reunion is awkward and stilted. You feel his eyes on your profile but you can’t force your eyes back to him.

He ignores you. He uses you.

Move on from him.

Charlie and Sarah are deep in loud conversation interspersed with chaste kisses. Joel takes advantage of this, stepping towards you and lowering his voice to a husky murmur only heard by you.

“Hey, I know I haven’t-“

“Don’t,” you warn in a whispered rasp. “Just…don’t.”

Now your eyes meet his and you see the searching quality of them, how they gaze into your face as if entranced. You wonder if he’s memorizing your face the way you are his. A secret sketch in your brain so that you have it when he’s gone and nothing more than a memory.

Sarah breaks the moment to embrace her father, pressing thankful hugs around his neck and whispered thank you's. You want to leave the room but Joel is blocking the doorway. Sarah moves back, going to chatter more with Charlie.

Joel’s eyes slide over to where his daughter and Charlie face away from him as she turns the corner and shows her boyfriend her modest dorm room and the photo of the couple that she keeps beside her bed.

“Snowflake,” Joel whispers, drawing your gaze to his once more. It’s a soft, broken thing that makes your heart lurch. Your eyes fall to his mouth, desperate to feel his lips on your again before you tear them away, your thumb digging into the flesh of your ring finger. You wonder if Joel wants to apologize for the phone call last month. Or if he wants to ask if you can do it again.

You don’t know what you’d say. The irritation at being cast aside currently outweighs the churning lust you feel. At least you thought it did, until you saw him here, smelled his cologne and watched the pink of his tongue trail over his lower lip to wet it.

"I was-"

“Hey babydoll,” comes a cheerful voice from down the hall. You turn your head to see Conrad strolling towards you, a broad smile plastered over his features. And for once you’re genuinely delighted to see him and his smug, handsome face.

“Hey,” you say with saccharine sweetness. You shoulder past Joel into the hall, throwing yourself into Conrad’s arms. He eagerly sweeps you up, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. You feel eyes on you and your face heats as you slowly pull back. “What’re you doing here?”

“Thought we could go over the itinerary for the trip,” Conrad says pulling out his phone. “See what treatments you’d like.”

“Treatments?”

A low voice sounds from behind you and with satisfaction you see Joel eyeing the two of you icily. His broad arms are crossed in front of his chest and like a grim reminder you see his wedding ring glitter under the lights of the hallway

“Spa treatments,” you say with a smug smile. “Conrad is taking me to Ibiza for spring break.”

See Joel? I’ve moved on just like you.

Charlie and Sarah have come back out with Sarah giving Conrad a weak smile. Despite everything you know she doesn’t like him but she also doesn't like the deception of knowing you have affection for 'Joe'.

“Where are you guys goin’?” Charlie asks sweetly.

“Ibiza,” you say proudly, as if Conrad is a self made man and not some entitled trust fund baby. You don’t miss the narrowing of Joel’s eyes as your hand tightens in Conrad’s.

“Woah,” Charlie says in amazement as Joel just sucks at his teeth, giving a brief nod. He doesn’t look away from your face until Sarah steps further into the hallway, her eyes on you and her hand in Charlie’s.

“I’m so jealous,” Sarah says before stopping herself and smiling at her dad and Charlie. “Well, I was before you guys showed up. Now I don't wanna be anywhere else."

"Makes two of us babygirl," Joel grins at his daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Three of us actually," Charlie adds and the group laughs.

“Conrad this is Charlie, Sarah’s boyfriend,” you say making introductions and smiling as the two young man shake hands. You pause and swallow before motioning to Joel standing there awkwardly to the side, watching the proceedings. “And this is Sarah’s dad, Joel.”

“Nice to meet ya, sir,” Conrad says shaking Joel’s hand firmly. Joel simply nods in return before shoving his hand back into his jean pockets. His dark eyes find yours over Conrad’s head and you force yourself to look away.

Conrad seems to spot the jersey that Charlie is wearing for the first time. “You a Garopollo fan, Charlie?”

“Yup,” Charlie nods proudly. “I was born in San Fran and I’ll die a 49ers fan no matter where I live.”

“Traitor,” Joel jokes, causing the men in the vicinity to laugh.

“We can’t all be die hard Dallas Cowboy fans,” Charlie teases back with a gentle nudge to Joel’s shoulder that the older man grins at.

“I like the Patriots myself,” Conrad says while you and Sarah exchange looks of gentle exasperation.

“Great,” Sarah rolls her eyes dramatically. “Football. I’ll be here all night.”

“We should go and let you guys get to your dinner,” you say tugging at Conrad’s shoulder playfully. “Let’s go, babe.”

"You two should come with," Joel says casually out of nowhere.

Everyone makes a murmur of surprised delight at the suggestion while you try to hold down the panic that’s festering within your innards. How can you sit at dinner with Joel? You want to be as far away from him as possible. Just being this close has your skin feeling itchy, like you want to peel it off.

“No, no it’s a family thing,” you insist, trying to guide Conrad away.

“No way,” Sarah says stepping forth and taking your elbow. “Don’t make me sit through a dinner of football talk by myself.”

“My treat,” Joel adds with a voice that sounds detached.

"That's not necessary," Conrad says looking at Joel's flannel and jeans. "I'm happy to pay for myself and my girl."

You don't miss the tic in Joel's jaw at this, the chill in his gaze blinked away when he turns his face into an easy smile.

"Alright then. Let’s go."

///

Sarah didn’t manage to make reservations at Bon Bon but Conrad promises that he can get you all in with no problem. When you all arrive and Conrad drops his last name the restaurant is only too happy to accommodate a larger party. You glance over at Joel when that happens, gratified to find him glaring at the back of Conrad’s head.

The pretty hostess takes you to a large hand-carved booth tucked away in the corner. It’s got beautiful red roses in the center and long draping white tablecloth that probably costs more than all your college textbooks combined.

"S'fancy in here," Joel mutters to Sarah and you think he sounds embarassed. You feel a stab of guilt at showing Conrad off like some prize. Even now Joel in his flannel and jeans is so much more enticing than Conrad in his lawn shirt and trousers.

Joel slides in and sits at the end of the table like a king holding court. You and Conrad curl around one side, Sarah and Charlie on the other. Conrad and Charlie haven’t stopped talking since they started on your walk over to the restaurant.

“And I don’t even think that they have a shot for the Superbowl this year.”

“Fucking Superbowl,” Conrad rolls his eyes. “That’s just a chance to sell ad space; it’s not a real game.”

You and Sarah exchange a look of boredom before diving into your menus. You wish you weren’t sat next to Joel in the booth, but Conrad always likes to sit on the outer rim of them because he claims it’s a power position. Fucking ridiculous.

You all chat amiably about what you’re going to drink before Sarah suggests you and her share a Sangria pitcher. You nod eagerly, knowing that alcohol may help to soothe your high strung nerves. Joel and the Charlie order a beer when the server comes by and you don’t miss how Conrad has to order the most obnoxious sounding wine on the menu, all the way to rolling his r’s to hit the Spanish pronunciation.

As she leaves Conrad’s arm goes behind your shoulder in the booth casually and you lean back into it, watching from under your lids as everyone talks. After a moment you go back to your menu, trying to pick what you want when your stomach feels like it’s coming out your bellybutton. Joel doesn’t look your way as you do this, but it’s like you feel him.

“Are you guys doing any excursions when you’re over there.”

“Dunno,” Conrad shrugs playfully. “I’m up to do whatever she wants, I’m just there to carry the luggage.”

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and you grin up at him. He’s being so devoted, so charming. You know that from the outside it fools most people and even you get sucked into it sometimes. It makes you temporarily forget the pouting when things don’t go his way or the way he pays off everything to avoid conflict.

The group continues to talk about differing travel locales they want to visit. Sarah wants to got o Greece, Charlie to Spain and you mention Italy.

“I want to people watch there,” you say with a crooked smile. “It seems the perfect place for it.”

“We’ll have to go there next then,” Conrad winks at you. You let him kiss your mouth, despite how he knows that you despise of public affection. He pulls back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he tells the group that the steak here is amazing.

At the first graze you think a spider has crawled over your knee. Your hand sweeps over your bared kneecap, hoping to brush it off when a large hand falls over yours, pinning yours to your thigh. You try to keep your features schooled, but your eyes dart to Joel’s profile beside you. He’s looking over the menu, lower lip stuck out in thought. You feel his thumb rub tiny circles into the top of your hand, almost lovingly. It makes you clench up everywhere.

His long fingers circle your wrist and under the tablecloth he tugs your hand into his lap where you find him hard through the denim of his jeans. Your mouth goes dry as he encourages your fingers to squeeze him through the fabric, palming his thickness.

Joel makes a soft sighing noise that could be a casual contemplation of what to order, his gaze on the menu. But then his dark eyes dart to your face briefly before he’s dragging your hand harder against his cock.

Everything in you wants to keep going. To feel his cock throb in your hands. To make him come right there at the table. But you don’t. You remember how he last left things on the phone and you feel your irritation churn in your guts.

Fuck him. You’re not here to be his personal fuck toy whenever he throws crumbs of affection your way.

You tug your hand back slowly, not wanting to arouse suspicion before you drag your hand back up, using both to look at the menu as Charlie, Sarah and Conrad complain about the lack of good movies in the theaters these days.

It’s not until the food is delivered and you’re two glasses of sangria in that you feel the gentle graze again. Its feather light on your inner kneecap, tracing the bone there and you feel goosebumps rise all along your body at the sensation. Yet you force yourself to swallow and agree out loud that the Cillian Murphy will probably win best actor.

You keep your hands on the table, not looking at Joel. You furrow your brows only a little when Joel’s hand slowly slides up your bare knee to your thigh, rubbing gently. He’s leaned forward slightly, one hand around his beer. He looks casual, even relaxed as he does this, nodding and offering the odd comment as everyone eats and talks about school, politics, pop culture, sports. You can barely keep track because all you can concentrate on is the large, warm hand that is now sliding up under your skirt.

You take a bite of your salad, almost choking when a finger traces the damp slit of your cunt through your panties. Your eyes dart to Joel to see him resting his cheek boredly on one hand as if the entire ordeal is tiring to him before he takes a bite of potato. The rest of the table talks animatedly as only the young and carefree can.

You used to be like that.

You squirm, trying to dislodge Joel’s hand from your lap, but he has no intention of leaving. Instead you feel his finger curl around the edge of your panties, testing your warmth, feeling your arousal seeping into your gusset. You feel Joel’s dark eyes slide over your face before he joins in on the conversation with Charlie and Conrad about the latest sports team. You can’t be bothered to ask which on because Joel’s thick finger has breached your cunt now, leaving you with wide eyes and trembling as you try to bring another forkful of your steak salad to your lips.

He pumps his middle finger into your welcoming cunt, a small surprised smile on his lips as he listens to the conversations around the table. When the second finger joins the first and you feel your pussy milking them, you begin to breathe unsteadily, trying to swallow the moan that’s building there. But when his thumb taps at your clit and then rubs in slow circles you let out a small whimper.

Conrad hears it, turning to see your cheeks flushed and sweat dotting your forehead. He gives a look of concern before leaning over and dropping his voice to a soothing murmur.

“You okay, babydoll?” Conrad asks his hand flying to your knee, dangerously close to Joel’s fingers.

“I’m fine,” you say shaking him off before his hand can touch your thigh. Joel’s own hand creeps back to his lap, glistening with your arousal. The sight of it is what sends you pushing against Conrad, desperate to find release.

“I need to use the bathroom,” you urge, nudging him out of the booth. Conrad nods, allowing you to slide out and lurch to the bathroom. You feel your heart pounding as your feet rush to the tiled bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

You’re so achy between your legs you can’t believe it. You lean over the counter, watching as a woman exits the stall, her eyes lingering on your curved spine. She washes her hands, looking at your red face.

“You okay honey?”

“Mhmm,” you nod through clenched teeth. She nods, drying her hands before exiting. You try to catch your breath before you move into the far stall, your body slumping against the wall. You are about to close the door for privacy when a hand reaches out to tug it open. Joel is there, his broad shoulders twisting around

“Joel?”

When you see the fire in his expression you feel your coherent thought leave you. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes look black and the way he looks at you is nothing other than ravenous.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Making you come," is all he says before his he hits his knees.

You fall against the wall of the bathroom stall, hands flat against the cool metal. Joel's pulling down your panties, urging your thighs to part before his tongue is slipping between the lips of your cunt. You offer a small gasp before he begins to suck on your clit, tongue flicking as your knees buckle. It's sloppy and needy and feels so fucking sinful that you immediately go boneless.

“My good girl,” comes the muffled endearment from between your legs. His broad grasp is around your thigh, urging it over his shoulder so you open yourself more to him. He inhales, groaning before his tongue is back to probing you deeply, coaxing your climax.

You let out little whimpers, eyelids fluttering as Joel’s fingers press into your sopping slot, murmuring to himself about how good you taste. You can’t control the way you start to unravel, letting him lick at you, taste you and praise you. You look down the length of your body to see his curly hair, his eyes half-opened, drunk with arousal. You think of how he’s ignored you for months and you want to push away from him but you can’t. It feels too good, too right.

"Joel," you whisper, eyes wide as he wraps his teeth around your pulsing pearl."W-why?"

"I need to," Joel says, his breathing quick and sharp as his gaze meets yours. “Need to-“

The door opens and you hear two older women gabbing, chuckling to one another as Joel abruptly stands. You may be in the far stall, but a man on his knees is going to cause a scene if they glance the way of your stall, you’re sure of it.

You wait for him to grow anxious and wait them out, but instead he pulls his hard and throbbing cock from his jeans. Your eyes blow wide when he grips you by the middle, lifting you by the ass and urging your legs to wrap around his waist. You do it, feeling the cold metal of the stall wall against your spine as he pins you there with his body.

His hand goes over your mouth when he slides into you, groaning gently as he does, as if this is what he’s been living for all these months.

“Need to remind you who this pussy belongs to,” he murmurs against the curve of your ear when he begins to thrust into you. “Remind you who you come for.”

His hand remains stuck over your mouth, sealing in any disagreement from your side. He’ll have found none even if his hand was taken away. The sound of the women chatting is distant, in another world, like insects in the grass of a summer day.

“All that money and that pretty boy can’t make you feel half as good as me,” Joel grunts against your temple. “Cuz fucking him doesn’t feel as good as fucking a married man, does it?”

Your lower belly tightens, your brows saddle. You worry Joel doesn’t understand that being married is the least enticing part in all of this. That you just want him because he’s Joel Miller. But Joel is feral, fucking into you harshly as he maintains your silence.

“He doesn’t make you wet like this, does he?”

You shake your head, watching with fascination as Joel’s mouth curves into a triumphant grin. He thrusts faster, his breathing punched out with each pump before his mouth is on your ear again.

“He make you come just talkin’ to you on the phone?”

Another head shake.

“But you come so easily for me, don’t ya?” Joel grunts quietly. “Cuz your cunt was made for this cock. No one’ll ever make it feel as good as I do. And no cunt makes me feel as good as yours. Can’t get it outta my fucking head.”

You can’t help but whimper behind his palm at the sound of that because it almost sounds as if there’s longing in his voice.

“Shhh shhh shhh,” Joel hushes you, eyes widening slightly. The sound of the women washing their hands is heard distantly. “You don’t want us caught before you come do you?”

But he needn’t have worried. You’re there, fucking yourself against his thrusts as he sends you into a dizzying climax, one that has your eyes clenched tightly and your eyes ringing.

“I feel that,” he murmurs against your lobe. “I feel you squeezin’ me, baby. Fuck keep going. Ride it out.”

You come with his palm sealed tightly over your mouth, arching back as Joel watches you with appreciative awe, soaking his cock. The women exit the bathroom with casual laughter as they talk about the entrees and you shudder violently against the man who has you pinned to the wall. When he’s sure you’ve finished he slowly lowers you, waiting until your rubbery legs can stand independently.

Joel pulls himself from you slowly, his hardened cock waiting. You don’t even hesitate, you just sink to the floor and take him into your mouth, sucking as he winds his hands in your hair and fucks your mouth. You taste your mingled release when he comes down your throat seconds later, breathing in sharp little huffs of good girl my good girl as he does. You swallow it down, your eyes on him the entire time before he brings you to your feet.

His mouth is on yours, tongue tangling with yours as his hips pin you to the stall wall. Your hands clutch at his neck, lacing there before he pulls back, the heat from his eyes dimming as he realizes how far he’s gone. The air thick with tension as you both realize what a monumental mistake this was.

“You go back first,” he tells you huskily. “I’ll wait a few.”

You nod, smoothing down your clothes and hair, checking the mirror to make sure that your makeup is still presentable. You wash your hands and come back to the table to find the group finishing up.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” Conrad asks as you slip in beside him. “You’re all flushed. I hope you’re not too sick for our trip.”

Of course that’s all he cares about. You’re convinced if you actually were sick Conrad would somehow blame you for it, as if it were within your control. Instead you just assure him with a tepid smile and a light head shake.

“No no, I’m fine. But I think we should head out. I wanna finish packing.”

You can’t be here when Joel gets back. Just the idea of catching sight of him after everything that’s happened has your knees buckling. Conrad throws back the remainder of his drink as you and he cast goodbyes to Sarah and Charlie.

“Let’s go,” Conrad says slipping an arm around your waist as he stands. “Just lemme pay.”

Your skin prickles as a husky voices sounds out behind you.

“No need,” Joel says with a smug smile as he approaches the table. “Already taken care of.”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller #dad joel miller #fanfic #pedro pascal #smut #fanfiction #joel miller tlou #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #bfdjoelmiller #jealousy #pining

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razbunz · 1 month

Text

Best of the worst (Pt 2)

Toji x Fem Reader CW: Drinking/Smoking, Older Toji, Gets a little spicy, Shiu and others are mentioned, Cursing. Word Count: 5K (I cooked on this)

Husband Toji! Quickly packs for a honeymoon to Spain, A whole AirBnb for a week on the island of Ibiza, The warm waters rolling over your skin as you swim with your husband taking in the salty air of the coast.

Husband Toji! Splashing you aggressively with water when diving into the balearic sea, Soon taking you to a seafood dinner. Candlelit with flames wavering with every warm breeze that passes through the gazebo It's easy to gorge on crab legs and to chat playfully with your freshly wed husband. The wedding band on his finger shining in the moonlight as cicadas hum an evening tune.

Husband Toji! Gifts you a sundress, and goes grape picking at a local vineyard in the summer heat. He helps you reach the tallest vines by lifting you up by the hips; gripping them tightly so you stay sturdy in his arms. He holds the basket of grapes collected and once you reach the rim of the wicker pail he's coated in sweat- looking nothing less than ethereal. Toji hands over the grapes to the vine assistant, who suggests that they can make a small batch. It's heartily agreed it will be your ‘honeymoon’ blend.

Husband Toji! Eagerly taking the opportunity to get wine drunk with you at the rental house- laughing as you get more whiny and needy with each sip. Toji can't help but pout and tease you during your hazy state, eventually he will show kindness though- it's your honeymoon afterall.And will lay you on the bed gently, kissing and suckling at your supple flesh until you beg him to do something more, until your crying of pleasure.

Husband Toji! Trying not to pout as he boards the plane, internally he fears that you're only sticking around like some fucked up ‘honeymoon phase’. He will never admit to you but it really hurts his feelings, you're not sure he knows just how serious you are about him.

Husband Toji! He goes back to work soon after, he's heard your complaints that his field is dangerous and he shouldn't be doing that, More than ever now that he's married.

But in his head it's the only way and the best way to make money to support the both of you, Though he doesn't want to hurt your feelings It's something that must be done.

Husband Toji! He goes to work with his hands covered in leather gloves so his ring doesn't rust with blood he has to deal with on a daily basis. His gloves are drenched in a sticky maroon substance as cuts the hands off of a victim. It doesn't make his stomach feel bad anymore… it hasn't for a while. He offers it to the commissioner as some sort of sick gift- they hand over a briefcase of money and he's back home to being your loveable bear of a husband.

Husband Toji! But because of his job it's easy for him to help you during your period. He knows you try to avoid him during that time, And he laughs when you explain why. It pisses you off to the nth degree but he reassures you that he isn't disgusted. His hands are a warm safety when you're cramping, he runs his fingers up and down your stomach until the pain goes away. Even once when you stain the sheets while you expected him to be mad he races to the corner store to buy you snacks, as he sets the sheets into the wash. When he comes back he watches whatever film you want as he stirs up hot cocoa which he is a master at making.

Husband Toji! Hearing you throw up one morning, He rushes to the bathroom to see you spill your guts out; Lifting up your hair he pats your back soothingly. He's groggy but it comforts him to know that you're okay. But this pattern continues... Morning after morning you start to feel nauseous and ill, It's starting to scare him.

He's making dinner one night, suddenly noticing that you've been in the bathroom for almost an hour. He calls out your name and as he walks closer to the bathroom his ears prick up as they catch your sobs.

“Princess?” he calls out into the hallway awaiting a response. Your chest racks and you stop crying, trying to compose yourself to respond.

But he knocks on the door “Are you okay, pretty girl?” The silence echoes throughout the house.

Behind the door you're biting your lip to stop a sob.

“Princess, Open up please.” His voice itches with anxiety, He's growing impatient pacing through the hallway until he breaks open the door with a sharp CRACK the lock splintering immediately.

“Baby?” He sees your figure on the floor clutching something to your chest.

“There you are pretty.” his voice makes you shiver into the ground-he reaches out to you but you shrink back, whimpering in fear.

“M’sorry m’sorry toji.” you sound more pathetic than you ever thought.

“Sorry?” he scoffs “For what?” Standing back to give you some space, Instead of words you pass what's clutched to your chest. With one glance it makes him want to hurl.

Soon to be father Toji! Turning the blue stick in his hands, Two blue lines staring up at him like daggers.

“M’sorryyyy Toji” by now you're hyperventilating, as he acknowledges the weight of it all.

“Baby it's okay!” He crouches down and offers you a hand brushing your hair back.

“You're gonna kill me.” he shakes his head, you’re being dramatic.

“I'm not going to kill you princess.” pressing a kiss to your hand.

He chuckles for the second it takes you to realize that he is not made, he's rather happy.

Lifting you up he hugs you tight, peppering your wet cheeks with kisses, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“God I love you so much.” he confesses to you “Always wanted a little brat, hmm?” he looks down to see your face.

“You want one with me too mama?” you nod enthusiastically before admitting to Toji

“I thought you didn't want one!” you breathe a sigh of relief now knowing that you were wrong,

“Of course I did!” he pauses “I didn't think you wanted one with an old man like me!” He blushes and combs through his hair to reveal more of his face.

“Well clearly you're not that old.” You gesture to your body.

Laughs fill the bathroom.

Soon to be Father Toji! Goes to every single one of your doctor visits, He can just be back from a mission with bloody clothes in the back of the car but will be there. Holding your hand throughout the first ultrasound. When a heartbeat shows up on the monitor he squeezes your hand, smiling cheesily as a tiny baby shows up on screen-He keeps an ultrasound photo in his wallet now.

Soon to be Father Toji! If you thought he was protective before, When you're pregnant he might as well be a guard dog. Holding your hand everywhere and when people come up to gush about having a kid he is only 4 seconds from committing another murder. You're his wife and that's his kid. They shouldn't touch you.

Soon to be Father Toji! Ikea shopping with you as your due date approaches, By the end of the trip you’ve got a Crib, Dresser, and changing table with plenty of storage.

When they arrive at the house he sets an entire day aside to build it all, yelling at the instructions while you sit down. Admiring him hammering everything together- his biceps taut as he holds pieces together. Needless to say, you're happy to watch.

Soon to be Father Toji! Who looks at you odd when you hand him a tiny gift bag, When he opens it to see pastel pink onesie with a card saying ‘Its a Girl’. He's ready to be a father right then; letting you find names for his little girl. And with some guidance you both decide on the name Tsumiki, A beautiful name for his baby to come.

Soon to be Father Toji! Adores stepping into stores with his pretty little wife in his hands, buying whatever your eyes even flick over. When you paint the spare room an ash blue he asks

‘Would you ever share your plushies with her?’ The look you give him shuts him up immediately, he’ll take that as a no.

He still loves you even when you woke him up at the asscrack of the morning because you were craving Auntie Anne's Cinnamon sticks, dragging himself out of bed because he wants to see you happy. When he gets them (and a cinnamon roll for himself).

You eat them in the car, music low so you can talk to him. He chuckles when you mention that this scene looks so familiar- Time has passed, but you've only gotten more irresistible to him (especially when your swollen with his child)

Soon to be Father Toji! Whereas as soon as the slight wince of discomfort leaves your lips, he's dragging you to the hospital even when you say you can wait it out a bit longer, he'd rather be safe.

He enters the Maternity Ward with you trying to calm your nerves to the best of his ability. Toji has seen lots of morbid things before…Torture victims and bodies without heads, but its different when its his precious wife screaming in agony with every contraction. He avoids looking at your form until he hears the cries of a child. His child. Walking up to your sweat slicked form he gives you a small peck on your forehead, hushing your whines of pain as they take your daughter away for a health check.

“You did so good mama, so good for me hmm?” you don't have the energy to respond but soak in the voice of your husband and your body resting. Tsumiki is a healthy little girl, And much to Tojis relief he can't sense cursed energy.

It makes him unbelievably happy.

Father Toji! Letting you rest while he cradles his little girl in his arms, she's so small in his arms he's afraid that one wrong move and it'll be over. So he sits as still as a statue so his baby can sleep. He shakes his head at his life, never did he think he'd be a dad. Especially to a girl who resembles you so much, your small smile in particular.

Father Toji! Hates Hospitals to an incredible degree and races out the hospital with his baby, Tsumiki is held in a baby carrier with his grip unwavering. He places the carrier in the back and starts up the car for the drive home.

He drives much more carefully then he ever has, you could even say legally.

Father Toji! Lets you take the next few weeks easy, he dearly wants another kid- but doesn't want to force another child on you; At least not this early. It's hard to compose his thoughts though when Tsumiki cries at 1:48 in the morning…like clockwork, You go sometimes but if you're deep sleeping there isn't a reason to bother. He swaddles her while she cries going into the pantry to fetch some formula hoping that she's just hungry. He has work in the morning but he knows you're just as tired.

So Toji hums strangers in the night softly, the words are mumbled and hushed so he doesn't wake you up in the next room. But upon not feeling the comforting warmth of your husband you look around the house. To find Him in the nursery coddling Tsumiki, bouncing up and down to a soft rhythm.

He looks at Tsumiki like it's his whole world.You dont say anything,You slink behind the wall hoping he doesn't sense your presence. You keep it short,retiring to sleep while you hold the memory close to your heart.

Father Toji! After feeding Tsumiki, he makes dinner for the two of you. It's filled with light conversation but he can sense your not saying something.

Once you finish though you look him dead in the eyes and ask

“Do you not want another kid with me?” Your voice is shaken and Toji is bewildered that this question would ever arise.

“What? Of course, Whatever gave you that idea?’” He retorts finally thinking his hints have clocked in

“I- just thought you were a one and done type of guy…” A pregnant pause prevents both of you from talking.

“Absolutely not. I love Tsumiki and she needs another sibling-maybe even a brother!” He sounds 10x excited at that.

He closes the distance between the two of you going to nip at your neck, biting it harshly.

“Why, Wanna try? Hmmmm?” He grins and bites your cheek, you cringe at the feeling of wet saliva on your cheek- nodding as you lay back onto the bed letting his larger form crawl on top of yours.

“Need words baby~” he coaxes you to speak, he loves seeing you desperate for him.

“Please Toji?” You test the waters,but he shakes his head.

“Please touch me Toji daddy?” and you pout giving him puppy eyes. At that he undos his belt taking the cool leather into his calloused hands.

“Take it real fucking good then.”

Father Toji! Makes sure you take everything he has to give, Cleaning you up gently but it’s all a blur when you look back at it. You wake up the following morning with the scent of honey and sweet fruit. When he spots you trying to stand up to meet him halfway, he ushers you to sit down on the bed handing you a cup of tea with waffles and fruit. It makes you smile at his softness.

Father Toji! Just as equally excited when you tell him you're pregnant again, he knows it will be a challenge but it's one both of you want to face together. Since this one is planned you both take the pleasure in throwing a baby shower.

You invite all of your friends as does Toji, who has gotten closer with other people now that he is settled down- he won't admit it but it's easier to make friends when he doesn't constantly have to move around with a price on his head.

Well he still does…But at least he's home. At your home.

Father Toji! And Shiu about everything that's taken place this last year…

“Two kids, big man?” Shiu jokes to him, jabbing him in the side while looking at your unknowing figure, as you chat to your friends.

Toji looks at his drink and chuckles “It's a huge change, I mean anything for her. That's my girl right there.” His eyes meet yours and you give him a wide smile, he grins back.

“You ever thought about settling down Shiu?” Toji asks, setting his glass of champagne down onto the cedar table.

Shiu shakes his head “I'd like to, now that my best client is turning to mush on me.” Shiu snickers to himself.

“No the fuck I aint. I still kill people mind you.” Toji objects to his partner.

“You gonna do that when Tsumiki has a sibling too?” Shiu quips, hitting toji with verbal whiplash.

He doesn't know how to reply.

“ I… I don't know.”

“I'd figure that out before your woman does.” Shiu swigs the rest of his glass down, setting it down before walking up to you to say another congratulations.

Father Toji! Uncharacteristically shaken by that conversation with Shiu, though he powers through the party to hear some good news, It's a boy.

He’s ecstatic at just the thought of Tsumiki having a little brother and already brewing names.

As you drive back home with gifts packed into the trunk you giggle about some drama spilled earlier, he laughs commenting on your tales- but he's really thinking.

“Let's name him megumi.” you're talking when he says it- catching you off guard.

“Like how could sh- What?” you fumble over your own words forgetting the story that once filled your mind.

“Megumi.” he repeats; you nod, mouthing it trying to see how it flows off your tongue.

“I like it.” You agree fidgeting with your maternity dress. He smiles lightly at that, kissing you gently at the next stoplight as if you might shatter from his touch.

Megumi’s his little blessing to come, Toji’s so thankful for you and his kids.

Father Toji! Megumi comes into the world with a fight, it's harder on you then Tsumiki. He's louder and fussier with his food, not liking the ones Tsumiki once did. Sweet potato puree is suddenly garbage now. Toji notices you need more rest after Megumi and how you spend more time in bed then with the 3 of them, He does the best he can though- he always does.

Father Toji! Is super excited (emotional) when you begin to play with Megumi and Tsumiki, trying to get Tsumiki to walk often and feeding the two of them. Which Toji is unarguably better at, he's a master at feeding his kids. Baby food? Easy win, Solids? Something so easy that he's starting to enjoy cutting up tiny pieces of chicken and apples to feed them.

Father Toji! Denies that Megumi is a mirror reflection of him, Makes you frown thinking of the nine months of pain and cravings and hormones… just for him to look exactly like his father.

Toji doesn’t claim that his pout comes from him but it most definitely does.

Father Toji! Loves watching you take care of Megumi, the way you play with him, playing peek-a-boo and talking to him about your day as if he can understand you. You tell him about how you and Toji met, just explaining his dad to him.

“Toji’s a big scary bear, But he's nice huh gumi? Your dad loves you soooooo much” You look Toji in the eye when you say that, beaming as Megumi spits out baby gibberish as a response.

“I am not that scary!” Toji retorts going up to take Megumi from your lap, you hand him off- Megumi gives a bit of a tussle crying clawing at his dads skin but calms down when Toji offers him a lighthearted smile. (Megumi’s scared of him smiling with teeth)

Kiddos (Double dad Toji?) Are both sad that your kids are now both in elementary school. Megumi isn't super social, and likes to stay silent in class making pictures that he hands to you at the end of the day. Megumi is a big reader and listener which doesn't help, especially when it includes curse words that he hears mostly from his dad, occasionally you.

Meg’s has picked up “Motherfucker” too quickly for your taste. Tsumiki on the other hand is a social butterfly, playing with other kids and humming tunes she hears on the radio. She loves to hang around in the school garden with her closest friends and play ‘Bug matchmaker’ Megumi has joined her in this, and it freaks you out sometimes when they do it at home.

Double dad Toji! Knows Megumi has cursed energy, he's known it since Megumi was 6 months old. It scares him deeply- He doesn't want his kid to turn out like him, being thrown to the side when he’s not ‘good enough’.

So when Megumi comes home during second grade petting something invisible, he picks up the aura of a curse and tries his hardest to be normal about it. Toji only wishes his kid didn't have cursed energy but it's too late for that. He can sense the energy is mostly positive-it gives him some sort of morbid solace.

Double dad Toji! Has explained cursed energy to you before, and while you can't use it you try your best to understand it. Toji can't bring himself to tell you about what it can mean for Megumi, and he doesn't want to think of your reaction if you find out it could bring Megumi harm. So he goes to Shiu…

He pulls up to a bar slamming the doors to his Maserati he bought an suv after having kids

Ordering a Jack & Coke as he sits down next to Shiu

“How's the wife and kids?” Shiu asks politely before they catch up.

“Wife's good, but ummm… Megumi is definitely a Shikigami user and I need your help.” Shiu’s eyes draw wide.

“When did you find this out??” Shiu asks, fully engaged.

“Like fuck I dont know, couple days ago?” Toji bites his lip and raps his knuckles against the sticky wood counter of the sports bar. A game he betted on plays above but he cant bother to look up. Someone scored- he can't care for who,Shiu spends the time of the pause to think.

“How about you drive me to your place and I can tell you just how bad it is.” Toji knows Shiu can see curses so hopefully whatever it is…is good.

“Let's go then.” Toji grabs his keys and they speed off to your house.

Ringing the doorbell its only worse as Megumi opens the door

Toji can sense the energy and grimaces, while Shiu laughs holding his temple and rolls his back to let out a cackle.

You travel to the foyer seeing Toji pale and Shiu red with laughter.

“Back so soon?” you question as you hold Tsumiki's hand, who smiles e at her dad and greets shiu with a tiny bow.

“Yeah, there wasn't much going on.” Toji lies through his teeth.

“What about your game though? Yankees and the Dodgers?” you pressure him.

“We can watch it here.” Shiu tacks in “And the bar ran out of our favorite bourbon anyways.” It's a simple, yet effective excuse.

They walk to the coffee bar you have, cramped in the corner where he pulls out what he needs to make a vodka cran. You continue to make mac and cheese for dinner for the kiddos, not before asking toji to make you one as well. He kisses you on the cheek and mixes your first so they can talk business.

“He's a shikigami user alright, but they are his for sure.”

“10 shadows technique, you think?” Toji asks, sipping lightly at his drink.

“Mhm, he's got it in control though, He has two dogs” Shiu takes a swig “They are his friends though, he was petting them at the door.”

Toji sighs with relief-

“Ima need a smoke after this, you gonna join me?” Digging through his overcoat pocket for a carton of Marlboro reds offering to shiu as he pulls out one.

“When don't I?” he smiles, as they walk out to the porch.

Double Dad Toji! Is a total Dad, In the beginning of your relationship he thought yall were gonna bang and be done. Now he's standing over an ice cream cart letting Megs and Tsumiki choose what popsicle they want. Megumi chooses the spongebob one and Tsumiki chooses Bubbles. You find him doing this unspeakably attractive. He's a Total Dilf, the ones you used to dream about when you scrolled through ‘hot dad’ blogs. And he's yours.

Kiddos! Middle school is interesting for you and Toji watch to say the least. Megumi has started to talk more and fights a lot, this leads to plenty of parent meetings for you and Toji to deal with. Leading to Tojis favorite saying (much to your anger) is “Hey at least he has good grades” Which he is right… But that doesnt give him to make the entire campus fear him

You can only ‘wonder’ where he got it from. Toji, Of course it’s toji.

Your daughter, Tsumiki loves to go to the mall with her best friend buying whatever she can afford from claires. Much to Megumi's dismay he is dragged around the wholeeeeee time, into Bath & Body works and turning away when they point out Victoria's secret. The only thing he gets out of it is Cinnabon and Hot Topic.

Double Dad Toji! With you, explaining to Tsumiki that Megumi won't be going to the same high school as her. He can sense his energy growing and is used to feeling his dogs' energy around the house.

“He's going to go to a different high school then you Tsu,” Toji tries to his daughter.

Tsumiki takes a sip of Fanta before sitting down,

“Why?? Does he not want to go with me?” She questions

Tojis sends him to Tokyo Jujitsu High.

He’s special… kinda like Shiu and me, we can both see and do things that you can't.”

Tsumiki nods “Is he a sorcerer?”

Toji sighs “Yes he is, me and mom-” he looks at you nod offering some sort of non-verbal comfort “think it's best to have him there.”

Tsumiki rubs her eyes.“When is he going, Can he visit? Wait, is he going to be okay?! Does he know???”

Tsumiki is a big questioner, it takes some time to explain to Tsumiki before she calms down

When Megumi comes back from detention that day Tsumiki gives him a huge hug. With tears pricking her eyes. Toji kisses your forehead before calling in pizza to lift the mood for the evening.

Double dad Toji! Thought he was done with parent meetings, he was wrong.

He waits outside the teachers office with you waiting for his main teacher, Satoru Gojo.

You're both ushered inside by the Snowy Haired man who grins at the both of you.

Gojo seems to frown looking at your husband but still eagerly greets the both of you.

“So your Megumi’s Dad, it’s no wonder your son is so strong!” He kicks up his feet on the desk.

“You must be his mother, pleasure to meet you too!” you agree and settle into the dark leather chair.

Gojo, Quickly moves onto talking about Megumi.

“He's a really bright kid! Great test scores on all the basics and he really shines on the Battlefield with his partners.” Gojo gushes, pulling out a lollipop humming to himself “Ah yes, my partner says he is a total team player.”

Toji nods while gritting his teeth, it's no secret he isn't a fan of him.

“His Shikigami are strong and lives up to other users of the Ten Shadows Technique, maybe one day he’ll even tame Mahoraga!” Gojo laughs and adjusts his sunglasses.

Toji isn't pleased hearing this “As long as it won't destroy the kid.” They make eye contact and Gojo throws his hands back.

“I'll make sure of it, for both of you.”

His teacher goes back to explaining a lot of terms you just don't get. But toji seems to be following along well enough besides his piercing grip on your thigh and his eyes twitching every now and then.

Once you leave the office, you walk to the training fields where Megumi is supposed to be.

When you see him he's laughing and talking to a pink haired boy and brown haired girl. It makes you extremely happy to see Megumi having friends.

A tall, long black haired man approaches you- putting his hair into a bun.

“You two must be Megumi's parents, Satoru told me you guys were coming to visit.” Toji shakes his hand firmly.

“But where are my manners! I'm Suguru Geto, the other teacher here. I'm mostly in charge of keeping them in check…Since I'm sure you can guess.” He leans in “My associate wont” you share a laugh with him.

He's a refresher from the partner, though probably complimenting each other's teaching skills.

Megumi looks up from his friends and lightly jogs to the two of you.

“Mom! Dad! Hey!” He is red from laughing and working in the sun- he now adorns a black fitted uniform not unlike his partners.

You hug him and Toji asks-

“How's it going kid?” giving him a head pat, “Haven't seen you in awhile. Your sister is supposed to graduate early. Did you hear that?”

You spend the afternoon catching up with your son and meeting his friends.

Toji holds your hand as you walk out of the campus, it's comfortingly silent, and he opens the door of his old car for you before he drives home.

Double Dad Toji! Is emotional when Tsumiki graduates from high school, she's wearing a dark blue slim fit dress. The black graduation gown is open and she wears her hat.

When they toss the hats into the air it's impossible for him to not feel that he's done something right in his life.

You and him raised a kid that's starting to bloom in a beautiful way. It does horrify him at the realization she is attending college soon enough. And when you come back from the graduation he makes sure he proves your ‘silver fox’ comment.

Double Dad Toji! Letting you adjust his tie when you get ready for Megumi's graduation not long after. It's a smaller scene with mostly family and close friends protected by a veil.

The Upperclassmen cheer them on with smiles and taunts to ‘Just turn 1st grade already!’ after their teachers give heartfelt speeches.

He steps on stage with his partners and a beautiful shower of flowers covers their stage as they hug each other, cheers radiate from the people there.

You're crying, and Toji, well- he's almost there.

Toji. Who finds comfort in you growing older by his side, Completing crossword puzzles with coffee and going on art museum dates. He's put down his weapons but not the cigarettes,

And you who loves to read next to him, appreciating the gentleness of his forever calloused hands still in love with the scent of his cologne and smoke.

It feels good to be in love, to have two kids who love you both endlessly. To live a dream- with you.

Thank you so much for reading! This took a lot of time but I really do love it. Requests are going to be open soon if you would like me to write anything! Love,Razzy!

#toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk fluff #toji x reader #jjk writing #this took forever #i love writing for him #older bf toji

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wardenparker · 7 months

Text

The King's Queen - chapter 6

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* So much more fluff with no apologies in sight. But also, discussions of death/deceased parent, investigations, and medications. Summary: A stressful breakfast is followed by even more stressful meetings for King Javier, but the sharing of a drink together each night is becoming tradition. Notes: Warning tags are DELIBERATELY VAGUE this week, my darlings. If you want a full disclosure of tags, containing spoilers, feel free to slide into my DMs before you read.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5

The two days that pass seem to be in a push-and-pull relationship with time. Appointments drag, the clock seems to tick slower and slower every moment, but then the second that you have time with Javi time flies past you in a blink. A few guests have arrived to stay at the palace during the official week of mourning so your meals have been more formal, but you’re starting to settle into the routine. Today is different, but it will be good. Today your brother is arriving, and you practically run to the breakfast room after Flores helps you dress in an appropriate black dress with subdued jewelry. To go out you’ll need a hat and veil, but that will wait. For now, you’re eager to see Javi again after having spent another night in his arms in your bed.

Javi has already had a meeting. Three of them, in fact. Finding it highly irregular to have Lucas demanding an audience before breakfast, he had told his man to have him come to his dressing room. Discreetly staying behind to attend the meeting as his cousin had raged that the King’s body has not yet been displayed for his state funeral.

“Good morning.” His eyes light up when he sees you rushing towards him with a smile on your face.

“Good morning, mi amor.” It doesn’t matter to you that other people are in the room already, you walk directly to his arms and kiss his cheek. “How has your morning been?”

“Interesting.” He murmurs quietly and glances over at where his cousin is making himself comfortable at the breakfast table by demanding hotter tea.

His gaze tells you everything it needs to, and you offer him a pinched smile. If you were wary of Count Lucas Gutierrez of Ibiza at first glance, you can readily say now that you loathe and wish you could avoid the man. He is demanding, slimy, and arrogant. A narcissist. And of course all the things that go hand-in-hand with that. Instead of remarking on it though, you nod, and take your place to Javi’s left side at the table. “I have the first meeting with the wedding planner after lunch today,” you remind him conversationally as a footman sets your plate in front of you and another immediately appears to pour your coffee. Being served is still new and uncomfortable for you but you thank both men for doing their duties. “And Sebastian is arriving this morning.”

“Is it wise to bring in a foreigner?” Lucas has obviously been listening, even if he is a few seats away. Removed from his normal seat and pissy about it. “I mean,” he gives a flat smile that is meant to be charming but there is a cruel light to his eyes. “The position as personal assistant to the queen is one of high honor. What message would it send to give it to an American?”

“That the future queen is cognizant of the importance of family and the connection between the crown and her own parents, and that is why her brother has had the appointment.” Maisie drolls, sipping her own coffee as though Lucas were no more than a fly on the wall. “He is not getting a cabinet appointment, he will be managing her calendar. They are very different things.” Additionally, Julius has already arranged a member of staff to be the support person for the approaching wedding and coronation, to make sure that cultural expectations are met. The whole thing is actually remarkably well organized right out of the gate.

“Besides.” Javi adds. “The Queen’s personal assistant is just that – personal.” He smiles at you. “Just because I was comfortable with keeping Julius on does not mean that I could not have chosen someone else. There’s not been a Queen’s personal assistant since my mother’s death.”

“It will be a very smart decision, I am sure.” Maisie nods as if to dismiss any more question of the topic and picks up her fork to start eating only after the king does.

The way that Lucas smiles makes Gabriela stiffen beside you and her head ducks down even more towards her plate. Aware that his smile is not meant to be comforting. “Of course.” He coos, syrupy sweet. “I am only looking out for the optics of your reign, cousin. It is a heavy burden to carry for anyone, especially you.”

Looking up, you frown to see Gabriela looking spurned and Lucas gleaming with slick confidence beside her. If this keeps up you’ll be seating them on the opposite side of the table at meals. “All the more reason to surround ourselves with people we trust,” you tell him with a breezy air that belies the fact that you don’t trust him as far as you can throw him.

The silence over the breakfast table is a second too long before Lucas answers. “Of course.” He agrees, waving his hand like it was the natural answer.

“I trust everyone will be prepared for the formal processional to the cathedral tomorrow?” Javi had insisted on delaying the ceremony for a proper examination of his father’s body to be performed, and as such it will technically be a day late. The examination is necessary, though, to everyone’s mind. Everyone except Lucas, but Javi will have to tell you about that later.

“It should be today.” Lucas scoffs but shakes his head. “King Miguel will lie in state for the country to mourn.”

“We will be prepared.” Maisie assures you, steadily ignoring Lucas as she eats her breakfast. “Gabriela and I will be beside you, princessa.”

“I appreciate you both immensely.” Without admitting it in front of Lucas, you are fully grateful for their presence in your first true appearance as princess. So far the country has only heard your name, nothing more.

Javi is thinking along those same lines. “I am sorry that your first appearance must be my father’s funeral.”

"There are far worse circumstances we could be in, amor." You set your hand over his on the table momentarily and give it a supportive squeeze. "I am glad you don't have to face the occasion alone."

“It has been a difficult time for us all.” He smiles softly and is happy that you don’t let Lucas get to you. The man’s anger at the examination of his father’s body surprised him and now he doesn’t know what to think. Delaying the viewing by a day isn’t too much to ask.

"Have you decided how long you will wait to crown your princess?" That thought, at least, is happy, but it is surprising coming from Gabriela. Firstly because you did not think she would want to contemplate Javi committing to you more fully, but also because she rarely speaks when her husband is present.

“I have not decided.” Javi admits. “We could do the coronation on the same day as the wedding. But I do not know if Margarita would want that.” He knows a wedding day is special, and a coronation is as well. He doesn’t want you to feel as if the wedding is overshadowed by the affairs of state.

“Apologies, your Majesty.” Maisie smiles easily, not wanting Gabriela to feel embarrassed in front of her husband. “The Contessa is eager to celebrate a new princess. We know that the wedding is still being planned.” In fact, both women are an integral part of the planning process already. “But to elevate the princessa to Crowned Princess can be done simply, no?”

“Yes, you are right.” Javi sends Gabriela a small smile. “Perhaps we should crown the princess the day after the King’s funeral? Give the people a little light in such a dark time? What do you ladies think?”

“Very appropriate.” Maisie praises, looking pleased with the change of topic. “Perhaps in the gardens? It would be lovely, and very lively.”

“When your mother was crowned, there were sweets and a string quartet.” You remember reading all about it and seeing the pictures in online archives. “Maybe…we could pay tribute to her in a small way? Use the rose garden as she did?”

“I would like that.” Javi nods, swallowing harshly as he thinks of how considerate you are. “You should wear her tiara.” He suggests. “Unless you would like to pick another. Her first tiara was always her favorite. It has been in the family for over four hundred years.”

“I will wear whatever you like best.” Sentimental value, cultural value, all of it is wonderful. What matters most to you is making the statement that you are here to support Javi as he cares for his people. Your people. “I will add a meeting with the appropriate members of our staff for this morning. That is one less thing from your plate, querido. Maisie and Gabriela will help me make sure that it is perfect.”

“Tonight, perhaps we can visit the dungeon?” He asks you with a smirk. “That is where the Royal Jewels are kept.” He explains after a moment when it’s obvious you are confused.

“After dinner?” You suggest with a smile. If you go off together after dinner then there will be no detaching yourselves from other – presumably last minute – questions or issues. You can simply climb into bed together afterward.

“I think that is a perfect way to end the evening.” Javi hums and Maisie can’t help but giggle. “Of course it is.” She announces to the table. “It’s every girl's dream to play with priceless, royal jewels.”

The entendre is not lost on you, and you almost choke on the sip of coffee you had just taken. Narrowing your eyes at her across the table, you manage to barely swallow your smirk. “I am sure the Crown Jewels will be treated with the utmost respect,” you answer, knowing that Javi is not likely to be in the mood for anything besides more cuddling on the night before his father’s funeral.

“The utmost respect.” She agrees with a small wink, ignoring the way that Lucas pouts because the conversation is not going the way that he wants.

Julius appears, oblivious to the barely contained giggles radiating from yourself and Dama Maisie, and moves to Javi's side silently. "Your Majesty," he murmurs only when he has reached the space between you and Javi at the table. "My apologies for the intrusion, but your next meeting is in a few minutes."

“I am afraid I must leave you.” Javi stands and leans over to kiss your cheek.

“Cousin, I can attend in your place.” Lucas jumps to his feet, abandoning his own breakfast. “So you do not have to worry about such things.”

There is a moment where the entire table pauses, all heads turning to look at the count in confusion. The outburst is entirely unprompted and more than that, it is unwanted. "The king can attend his own meetings, but your generous offer to help is duly noted." Turning back to Javi, you place a kiss on his cheek in turn and give him an encouraging smile. "If you are able to join us for lunch I will be very happy to see you, but otherwise we will catch up on our meetings at supper tonight. Have a good and productive day, mi amor."

He nods and along with Julius, quickly disappears out of the breakfast room. “That was odd, was it not?” Javi asks his assistant as they walk down the hall. As his father’s assistant, he would be around Lucas more when the count was working closely with King Miguel.

“I wish I could agree, your Majesty.” Julius walks half a step behind him, as is traditional, but makes sure to keep his voice low. “But it is far from the first time that the count has offered to take up royal duties unsolicited.”

Javi stops and turns towards Julius with his head tilted slightly, a frown on his face. “He was often around the palace.” He realizes. “Did he spend much time asking for additional duties from the king?”

Careful not to sound as though he is passing judgment of any kind, Julius does nod and urges the king to keep walking. “He has been desirous of a cabinet position,” he explains as matter-of-factly as possible. “For quite some time.”

“What were the king's thoughts on this?” It’s easier to think of his father as ‘the king’ right now. Allowing him to compartmentalize like Miguel had told him he would need to once he had taken the throne.

“That…” Julius pauses, recollecting King Miguel’s exact words with care. “Until he could be desirous of the position because of an urge to help instead of an urge for power, it would not be allowed.”

“I see.” The journey to the room where he was having his meeting continues as he thinks about this carefully. “Who is the meeting with?” He asks, the meetings over the past days jumbling together through his grief.

“This is the cultural attaché, your Majesty.” It does not phase him one iota that the new king seems to have forgotten — having constant demands on your attention would make any man’s memory blur. “With the sculptor who will be creating the statue in your late father’s memory. They are bringing miniature models for you to choose the tribute you think is most appropriate.”

“I see.” He knows that it is important he chooses the best one. “The meeting with my father’s doctor is later today though?”

“It will be after the attaché.” Julius replies with a nod. “I knew you would be anxious to hear the results, so it will be this morning.”

“Good.” Javi nods. “After that meeting, I wish to speak to the cabinet members. Convey the information myself.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” Toying with the king’s schedule is nothing new to his assistant. He will make whatever King Javier needs happen with the least fuss possible.

“Are we pushing anything too vital?” He is aware that he will be incredibly busy during the transition, but he wants to give any news to his cabinet personally. Most of them served with King Miguel and he felt he owed them that courtesy.

“Not if you do not mind taking a working lunch, sire.” Just because King Miguel had a habit of working through meals did not mean that King Javier would be the same way, and Julius wants to make sure he knows which rules are hard and fast for the new monarch. If meals with his fiancée are a priority, Julius will do everything he can to make it happen.

“I think that as long as you can assure that I have dinner with Margarita, then working through lunch should not be an issue.” He knows that he will have to make some sacrifices and changes, especially in the early days of his reign so he is successful.

“That is what will happen, then.” Filing away that lunch meetings are acceptable but dinner with the future queen is a priority, Julius nods and walks with the king into his office. “I will show in your next appointment, sire.”

The king’s working office isn’t a throne room like so many envision. Perhaps in the days of old, but the large office is functional. The desk is nearly three hundred years old, made from hardwood that has been lovingly polished and maintained. The heavy leather chairs that sit in front of it are meant to be comfortable and yet be slightly imposing. He had been in them many a time and can attest to that when his father was still sitting on the other side.

Julius escorts an elegant woman of around thirty into the room along with the cultural attaché that Javi has met many times at various events over the last ten years or so. Both parties show their reverence with a deep curtsy and a bow, respectively, and the woman carries a large case in her nervous hands.

“Good morning.” Javi is nervous as he shows her over towards the separate area that is less formal than the desk. The couches and coffee table were picked by his grandmother, although his mother had them recovered after he was out of his toddler phase. “Please, sit. Would you like a refreshment?”

The woman shakes her head politely and manages a smile. Her case is heavy and she sets it on the floor to open it carefully. “Thank you for making time for us, your Majesty. We know your schedule is a busy one.”

“A statue in honor and celebration of King Miguel is very important to me.” He promises as he watches her carefully. “His reign should be memorialized for the people.”

"In that, your Majesty, I believe we are in agreement." In extracting her figurines from her case, she sets them carefully on the coffee table between her and the king. "The late King Miguel, may he rest in peace, was very involved with the growth of King's College on Menorca. They have offered us a place on their campus for his tribute with your approval."

He takes his time, wondering how many hours have been put into these figurines. Picking up one and his lip trembles slightly when he sees how perfectly it resembles his father when he was a younger man. “They are exquisite.”

"I—thank you, sire." The young woman is very aware of her own abilities, but the unsolicited compliment makes her practically tremble with pride. "I was a recipient of the arts scholarship at King's College that His Majesty King Miguel, may he rest in peace, made in your mother's name after she passed. So you see...without their generosity I might never have been able to pursue my dream. And so this means a great deal to me, as well."

“Then it is fitting that you create this statue.” He’s touched by the story. “And include that story underneath your name on the plaque.”

"If I may, sire?" The young woman picks up the figurine that depicts King Miguel standing, with one hand resting over his heart and the other holding a book in its palm. He is wearing his most habitual choice of crown and there is a flower in his breast pocket. "The flower is called a Gloria cosmo," she explains, pointing it out carefully. "For Queen Gloria, may she rest in peace. And the book..." She smiles shyly. "I wondered if you might know his favourite book. It is not something that was widely known."

He smiles softly, knowing this is the one that he wants for him. “One Hundred Years of Solitude.” He answers quietly, his thumb brushing over the figure. “I think that I wish for this to be the statue, but—” he looks up at her. “I wish to ask a question.”

“Of course, your Majesty.” The artist nods immediately. “Anything.”

“I want to know how much for all of the figures. These.” He asks, biting his lip. “I want to buy them.”

“Your Majesty I could not possibly.” Within seconds she is shaking her head and motioning for him to take the figures right away. “It would be my honour to give them to you. And the final statue will have a likeness of Marquez’s masterpiece in his hand.”

“No, I must pay you.” He insists. “You have spent considerable time on these.”

“Perhaps…” A small smile graces her lips thinking that the new king might cherish these statuettes of his father, made by her own hands. “Perhaps you might remember my name when the guest list for a royal event comes up. Your Majesty is one of the only people in the world who can actually pay in exposure.”

He cocks his head to the side and he hums. "I see." He leans back and weighs the figurine in his hand as he looks towards the others still sitting on the edge of the case. "Then I will have another request of you?"

The young woman looks to the man she came in with – the cultural attaché who had worked with King Miguel for numerous years. When the man seems be as confused as she is, she simply turns back to the king and nods. "Of course, sire."

"The princess, my— the future queen, will be Crowned in the gardens the day after my father's funeral." He explains. "I would like you there. And if I may ask another favor, I would like a figurine of that moment. Her first moment wearing the Crown of Mallorca." He gives a small smile. "As a wedding present to her."

She melts in her seat, one hand over her heart in almost the same expression as the statue she has created. "It will be a momentous occasion," she murmurs, quietly in awe. "And it is a very romantic gift. I will make certain that it perfect."

"That, I must insist on there being payment." Javi tells her. "No matter how much you offer it as a gift."

"As your Majesty wishes." It will mean a great and meaningful commission for her, to have done two pieces for the crown, and she nods gratefully. "If there is anything specific you wish to be included in the image, it would be useful to know ahead of time," she tells him then, taking out the sketchbook that she had brought in case the king did not approve of any of her designs and she needed to start from scratch. "A material you might prefer, or a favourite stone of the princess's?"

"I think we should use local limestone." Javi frowns slightly and looks towards the artist with a curious expression. "Would that be too hard? Too soft? I had thought marble, but I think that it would be more symbolic that way."

"Limestone is perfect because it is soft." The young artist assures her king. "That is what makes it desirable for my craft. I will plan to use limestone as you suggest, sire. It will be a beautiful tribute to your princess." She, like everyone else in the country, was surprised to hear of a princess's existence but that surprise has become intrigue. No one ever thought that Prince Javier would settle down, and now it seems that he has found his match.

"Good." He sits back, relieved that he had chosen correctly and a small hum of pleasure comes out of his throat. "I will make sure that my assistant gets your contact information and you are formally invited."

"Thank you very much, your Majesty." She is beaming at him as she clasps her empty case shut again and stands with the older man who had shown her in. She curtsies again and it is surer this time – the nervous shake of anxiety gone from her posture and replaced with excitement.

"Come," Julius motions toward the door they had entered mere minutes ago. "I will collect your information and make sure you are added to the formal invitation lists." He will, without mentioning it for now, add this charming young woman to all of the guest lists for the foreseeable future. It will be good to have new faces in attendance and especially those who represent the next generation of the kingdom's future.

Javi continues to stare at the figurines of his father, noting the craftsmanship and the way that he can practically see his father's face in the material. Making him miss the man even more and he sighs as he picks up the entire set to bring over to the bookshelf behind his desk.

When Julius returns a few minutes later, he is nearly silent while he observes the new king at his desk, only clearing his throat when he is certain that he will not disturb or frighten the young king with his appearance. "The royal physician is here, your Majesty."

Theres a slight sense of dread that curls in the pit of his stomach, wanting to make him refuse the visit. As absurd as it is considering he had asked the doctor to meet with him. Insisted upon it. Now that the moment is here, he cannot shy away from it. A document with his father's seal is under his fingertips as he looks down, admiring the decisive signature. "Send him in." He nods, pushing down the childish fear and facing the truth to come.

Julius nods, retreating for only a moment before reappearing with Dr. Garza. The man's presence is a familiar one for Javi, as he has been the Royal family's primary physician for nearly ten years, but today he is nervous and his movements stunted. He almost looks scared. "Your Majesty," he murmurs, bowing deeply to the new king.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me.” Javi is very aware that the doctor is a very busy man and just because he is king does not mean the people come at his beck and call. His father has continuously reminded him that the monarchy was there to serve them, not the other way around. “Can I offer you a drink?”

"I think it would be best...to abstain, sire." Dr. Garza steps forward again and Julius motions for him to sit, but the doctor remains standing. "I am scheduled to examine your fiancée after this meeting and I would hate for any impairment in my judgement to lead to an undesirable result."

At first, Javi frowns, immediately wondering if there is something wrong in the short time you have been apart. Only to realize why the doctor would be examining you. "I see." He clears his throat and knows that he shouldn't argue against the tradition, knowing that you have been run through full physicals already in the US, but of course his own country would demand their own examination.

"I am sure the princess is in perfect health. It is only a matter of custom," the doctor assures him, but shifts nervously again on the rug.

"Is there something upsetting you?" Javi asks, motioning towards the couches in case the doctor wished for a more informal setting. Some do no like to feel as if they are called onto the carpet, he knows that too well.

"Your Majesty, the final examination of your father..." Dr. Garza gulps down a heavy sigh. "It yielded something...unexpected."

"Had the cancer spread?" He asks softly, his eyes betraying the hurt of losing his father so quickly after finding out about his sickness. If only there had been more time.

"Well...yes...sire." Garza licks his lips nervously and extracts an envelope from the pocket of his jacket which lists all of the official findings in medical specificity. It is his job to put those findings into layman's terms. "The cancer had spread. With what I found, I would have optimistically have given your father three-to-six more weeks. However...the advancement of his disease is not what I was referring to as unexpected."

Three-to-six more weeks. Less time than he had been told, more time than he had. Javi looks over at the figurines on the bookshelf. "What else would be unexpected?" He asks softly, unsure of much medically.

"There was a medicine found in your father's blood work that was not prescribed to him." Though Garza hesitates to use the term drug, that is technically correct. He just knows that it has negative connotations so he says 'medicine' instead. "It is a prescription medication that neither I nor any of the doctors at the hospital ever recommended or prescribed for him. And it..." Garza shifts in his seat. "It is not something that we would have recommended for him either, given that it often does not interact well with the chemotherapy medication that he was properly prescribed."

Silence fills the office for a long moment, Javi absorbing the news and feeling the way that his stomach churns. "He was...he was poisoned?" He manages after a moment. "Is that what you are telling me? The king was murdered."

"It is not strictly what I would call a poisoning, sire." Dr. Garza interjects quickly, feeling panic strangle his own heart in a moment of intense irony. "But we need to determine where and how the king obtained this warfarin. You see..." Gods help him, he has to explain this to the man's son... "It was in the bottle that he had in his pocket. But the label was different. So either the king had replaced his diazepam with the warfarin that caused the blood clots that killed him...or someone else did."

"My father did not like taking medication." Javi reveals, frowning as he looks down at his hands, trying to think of what could have possibly happened. "He took what he had to, but he – he wouldn't – there's no way he would change his medications out." It feels like his chest is tightening and he shakes his head. "I— no, he couldn't have – Julius—" He turns towards the man who probably spent more time with the King than anyone else.

"An investigation will have to be opened." Julius advises solemnly, the tightness in his voice betraying just how troubling he finds this fact. "This could only have been done by someone close to the king, so I can only imagine that the royal guard will want to undertake the investigation personally. And as quietly as possible." He shakes his head, knowing that he will be a primary focus on the investigation early on. He hardly ever left King Miguel's side for the last few months. "As quietly as possible, sire," he advises again. "Or else whoever did this may flee."

Javi's eyes close and he takes a moment, needing it to relearn how to breathe. "Make it happen." He orders, opening his eyes again to look up at his assistant.

"Yes, your Majesty." Julius motions to Dr. Garza that the meeting is over, ushering him from the room, when he returns a moment later after escorting the doctor out of the ante-office, he returns with a solemn, drawn expression. "I would not mention this to anyone beside the princess," Julius cautions, knowing that the new king has chosen his wife-to-be to keep his secrets. "We cannot yet know who was involved."

"I don't know if I can tell her." Javi admits. The truth of this is just too horrific, but he doesn't know if he can honestly keep it to himself.

"This is a heavy fact to carry on your own, sire." Julius warns, though he understands that it is difficult to process. Or to speak the words aloud. "I would offer myself to keep this secret, but I know that I will be investigated heavily because of how close I was to your father. They will suspect me immediately simply because I had access to him." Shaking his head, Julius stands in front of the young king and his voice turns firm. "May I speak freely, your Majesty?" He asks with caution.

"I don't believe that you would have murdered my father." Javi admits quietly, not really meaning to speak his mind, but he is too off kilter to guard his words right now and he would rather be frank. "You loved him, there would have been nothing for you to gain." He frowns and remembers that the other man had asked to speak freely. "Yes, please speak your mind."

"That was all I was going to say," Julius murmurs, sitting down across from the younger man with a soft, melancholy smile. "That I loved your father very much, and that all of the best things in my life were things that he had had a hand in. He encouraged me to better myself, even in his employ, and even introduced me to my wife. I—" Julius shakes his head again. "I cannot possibly express my gratitude for everything your father did for me. So no, your Majesty. I never would have wanted him to leave this world. Not ever."

He had never known that. Not that his father had caused the introduction between Julius and his beloved wife. "I know." Javi nods. "I know that you would never harm him. But I need to know who would."

"Unfortunately, there are many candidates." It is not something anyone ever likes to contemplate – the thing that would cause someone to actually commit murder – and Julius shifts in his seat to look King Javier in the eyes. "But we will find the person who did. I am sure of it."

"I will be investigated as well." Javi seems almost surprised when he realizes that. "They will look into me for my father's death."

"Yes." Again, Julius nods. "And your princess, as well. But you will both be quickly eliminated. They will only suspect you formally so that they can say they overturned every possible angle." He does not believe that the young king had any hand in the misdeed whatsoever and he knows that the guard will not believe it either.

"Perhaps it is a good." He leans forward and wipes his face with his hand. "Looking at everyone. I don't want this person to get away with this."

"I cannot imagine that anyone does." Reluctantly, Julius stands again and smooths the trousers of his suit carefully. "I will bring the Head of the Guard to you, unless you would like some time to yourself before having that discussion?"

"Give me two minutes." Javi tells him quietly. He knows that he cannot fall apart, not now. He will wait until he has time alone with you.

"Of course, your Majesty." Julius goes out, intent on ordering a cup of tea from the kitchens to be delivered to the king immediately. There are some things that are just good for the soul, and that includes tea when one is upset.

The window of the study is actually a set of French doors that lead off to the rear of the palace, overlooking the gardens. He wonders how many times his father had decided to take a stroll to clear his mind.

For a few moments he stares off into the middle distance, contemplating taking a walk himself, before his personal cell phone buzzes in his pocket. It is not often that he gets a message there since few people actually have the number, but when your name flashes across the screen it is the best possible scenario for someone contacting him.

Margarita: Just wanted to see how you're doing and make sure that you're remembering to breathe. Te amo, querido! Julius says you're working through lunch, so I will see you for dinner tonight. ❤

He smiles down at the screen, already feeling slightly relieved at the message you sent him. Not knowing how you manage to do it, but you had an uncanny knack about putting him at ease. He takes a breath and types back his own message.

I am looking forward to dinner and even more, to sleeping in your arms again. I love you.

******

After breakfast, Flores quietly comes to your left shoulder and leans down. “Your Highness, the plane is twenty minutes out. Would you like to meet it on arrival? I can have one of the drivers take you in the car or in the boat if you would prefer.” She asks softly, making sure an obviously curious Lucas cannot overhear her.

“The boat would be wonderful.” To show your brother his first glimpse of the palace the same way you saw it sounds perfect, and it will be a little faster than taking a car. More direct, at least. Given the fact that you’re supposed to meet with the royal physician this morning, you can’t dally too much in picking up Sebastian.

“Of course, your Highness.” Flores loves the role of temporary assistant but doesn’t begrudge the addition of your brother to help manage your day to day affairs. She will be working closely with him and wonders what he is like. Hopefully he will be as kind as you are. “I will have the footmen travel to the airport with a truck large enough to carry back any and all personal items your brother might have brought.” She curtsies slightly and quickly backs away to carry out her tasks.

“Well, it seems as if that is my cue.” You had sat at the breakfast table with Maisie, Gabriela, and Lucas a little longer after Javi left for his meeting but it is time to get the day rolling. “Ladies, I will see you soon. Good morning, Count.”

Lucas narrows his eyes, wondering where you are scurrying off to. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark. “Gabriela.” He grunts. “Let’s go for a stroll in the gardens. It has been a while and I miss my wife.”

No one at the table believes that for a second, but Gabriela dutifully stands and excuses herself to follow him out the door. Maisie, left to her own devices until you return, decides to go and see what information she can put together on the style and color choices from the last few royal weddings as a resource for you. Reading and research are one of her strong suits and it will keep her busy for a time.

As promised, when you reach the dock, the same speedboat that had brought you across the small channel is waiting with a driver that is in a water friendly version of the drivers for all the palace cars. “Your Highness.” The swarthy man’s coloring is indicative of a man who spends his life on the water and he bows respectfully before he steps into the boat to offer you assistance climbing aboard. “The tower radioed. We will arrive five minutes before the jet lands if we push off now.”

“Thank you very much.” You are careful getting into the boat in a dress and heels but the man keeps you steady, waiting until you are seated to start off for the private landing strip at the airport. The sun is bright today but the weather is not too hot, making the breeze that blows over the water as your driver cuts through the waves seem very refreshing. If it were not for the impending funeral, you might be tempted to call the day’s atmosphere perfect. But there is much to do before perfect can even be thought of.

There’s not to be much conversation as the boat slices through the water but the driver cannot help but look back to check on the newest Princess. Curious about you and he smiles when he sees that you are soaking up the sun with your head back and your eyes closed for a moment. It seems as though you have a bit of the Prince’s spirit and that is a good thing in his opinion.

Sea air helps immensely as you try to shake off the mood Lucas left over the breakfast table, and by the time Valentino – you asked his name – cuts the boat’s engine at the dock you’re feeling much better. Sebastian’s arrival is only five minutes away and the only thing to remember is not to squeak and run down the strip to hug him. That would be…slightly less than dignified.

“I will wait with the boat, your Highness.” Valentino tells you before motioning towards the boat. “Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“If you tell me that you have a bar stashed in his boat somewhere, I shall be very entertained to see that one day.” You smile, and when the older man chuckles, you laugh with him. “Thank you, Valentino, but I am just fine. I will return to you with our other passenger in a few minutes.”

“Yes, your highness.” He smiles and bows again. There is a small bar built into the back of the control panel and perhaps the prince will show you since he loves to drive the boat around. For now, he will wait for you to return.

The jet is just taxiing on the runway when you reach it, and the difference between this morning and when you arrived a few days ago is stark. This morning you are wearing mourning clothes and a modest veil, but nothing in the world could disguise the ring on your finger or the way the guards on duty snap to attention when they see you. Your face has already been in the tabloids, so it is not exactly difficult for them to do so. Instead of saying anything you merely stand politely by, waiting for the door to open and expel your brother into the morning sun. Hopefully he’s slept on his flight. There is a lot to do today.

Sebastian adjusts his suit that he had quickly changed into. The jet had the bonus of a bedroom in it and he had been extremely grateful for the chance to try and sleep since he knows the first few days will be chaos. He will be learning a new regimen and new country in addition to dealing with a king’s death. Nodding to the stewardess, he thanks her and exits the jet, immediately looking around for his baby sister.

Stepping out into the middle of the runway once you see the familiar line of your brother’s trusty black suit, you give him a very polite wave instead of hopping forward like you want to. You’re on display now, and manners are everything, so as soon as Sebastian is in front of you, you mouth “Bow” at him silently. He looks at you with a half smirk before acquiescing, and only after that do you step forward with open arms to give your brother a hug.

It is very different having to bow to your sister, but Sebastian makes up for it with the crushing force of his hug. “God I missed you.” He admits, observing propriety by not swinging you around like he might have before. “How are you doing? How is he doing? What can I do to help?”

“I missed you too, Sebby.” The admittance and the force of hugging him is an enormous relief and you barely manage to stop yourself from giggling. “We’re doing pretty well, all things considered, but there is a lot to fill you in on. Let’s get back to the palace and I’ll get you as up-to-speed as I can until we’re alone. There is a lot going on.”

“Of course.” He nods and takes your arm. “Um…where is the car?” He asks, looking around and not seeing one.

“Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to give you the coolest arrival I possibly could?” You grin at him and steer him toward the docks, waving your arm grandly in presentation. “Valentino is taking us back in the boat, and you’re going to get the best view of the palace from the water. I promise.”

“Wow, seriously?” He asks, a boyish grin on his face as he takes in the sleek lines of the speedboat. “That’s mighty fancy, your Highness.” He teases. “All for little ol’ me?”

“Javi picked me up in it when I got here a few days ago.” And the mortification you felt at not recognizing him immediately is still burned into your brain. “But I figured…if you’re going to be working and living here, you might as well get the perks of how beautiful it is right off the bat.”

“That’s…incredibly romantic for a …how did you once put it?” Sebastian hums evilly. “I think you said that he was ‘a soulless, boring, impotent, stuck-up prick’.” He knows you were drunk and venting all your fears, but the soft smile on your face when you mention ‘Javi’ must be pounced on like only a sibling can.

“Oh my god, do not say shit like that out loud in public anymore,” you hiss, stifling a laugh because you know he’s quoting you exactly. “And for the record? I haven’t slept with him yet. I mean I’ve slept with him, like actual sleep, but his father just died. The mood is not exactly sexy.”

“But you want to.” That is surprising, considering you used to compare yourself to a sacrificial virgin having to be dragged to the marriage bed. You hadn’t been amused when he reminded you that you weren’t virginal.

“I—” Honestly you can’t even deny it, and you end up shrugging right before you get to the boat. “I really do. But I’ve waited this long. A little more time won’t kill me.”

“This long?” Your brother barks out a laugh. “He must be amazing.” He smirks. “My baby sister looks so happy.”

“He’s…really kind of extraordinary, if I’m honest.” You fluster as Valentino helps you into the boat and you settle back in your seat again. “I am happy, Sebby. I know it’s different than what I expected, but maybe that’s a good thing. Having my expectations subverted works for me, apparently.”

“Apparently.” He snorts, leaning back and watching you for a moment. “So, how are you handling it? You said you’re happy, but how’s the stress?”

"Some aspects are surprisingly less stressful than I had anticipated, others are more so." Motioning for him to sit down beside you, you thank Valentino as he sets off for the palace again without a word. "Like the first thing you'll be present for?" You murmur to your brother, lowering your voice. "Is an examination with the royal physician."

“Oh boy.” Seb pulls out his phone and opens his calendar. “Your last period was two and a half weeks ago, right?” He asks, confirming a date and then looking up at you for your answer.

"Yes, it was, and I am not going to pretend that your magical ability to always have chocolate and ice cream in the apartment at exactly the right time is not half my motivation for making you my personal assistant." That makes both of you laugh, and you get momentarily distracted by the shine of your engagement ring in the sunlight before you look back at your brother. "I'm...I'm honestly really glad you're here, Sebastian. The more I think about it, I don't know if I could do this without you."

“You’ll be running circles around me in no time, Princess.” He tells you with confidence. “You’ve always had the uncanny ability to immediately master something if you really want it. And this?” He cocks his head at you and gives you a brotherly smile. “You’ve decided that you want this.”

"I really do." It's almost a shock to your system to hear it put so bluntly, but you can't deny it. "He's wonderful. And he's going to be such a good king. Anything I can do to help him, I want to do all of it just to see him be brilliant at something so enormous."

“You will be brilliant at it as well.” Sebastian promises. “You have been born for this and now your heart is in it as well.”

"I think you'll like him." As the speedboat rounds the corner and the palace comes into view, you reach over and squeeze your brother's hand. "But first? Welcome to your new home."

“Oh wow.” His eyes widen and he has to stand, taking in the view is the magnificent palace, imagining that if it’s this stunning on the outside, it will be even more so on the inside. “It’s – you’re literally living out a fairy tale.”

"I really am." That releases a torrent of giggles from you, and you have to gather yourself up quickly to be princess-like again. Sebastian's reaction is everything to you, and you can't help but gaze up at the palace with the same awe. "Your room is technically in the staff wing but Javi let me choose the room myself. It's basically the size of our old apartment inside the palace."

“As it should be.” He decides, adopting a snooty tone playfully. “Seriously though? I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I have internet.”

"Fastest internet I've ever experienced in my life." You promise him as Valentino turns the speedboat around the corner of the cliffside and toward the dock for private palace use. For royal use. "Hopefully I'll get to introduce you to Javi's assistant fairly quickly. Julius is invaluable and I know you two have e-mailed back and forth a little but he really is just a miracle in human form."

“Who is your maid?” He asks, scrolling through his information. “Flores? She would be the one to ask about attire and things like that until I get my bearings?”

"Flores is a godsend." As the palace gets closer and closer, you feel yourself taking a surprising breath of relief. As if you had missed it for the thirty or so minutes you were gone. "You'll meet her right away. Between the two of you I really think you'll be able to cover all the bases pretty easily. And then there's my ladies in waiting for all the other bits of guidance."

“Ladies in waiting.” Shaking his head, he marvels over the way your life has changed. “I’m sure I will get to know them as well.”

"It's a whole new world here, big brother." You hum as the speedboat comes to a graceful stop at the dock. "And I think you're actually going to like it."

******

Dinner is stuffy and formal due to new arrivals in the palace. Extended family has come to the capital and will be staying through the funeral and your crowning, though they were polite enough not to interrogate you directly at the table. As soon as you could politely get away, you took Javi's arm and happily let him lead you away to have a cocktail together on your balcony. Another pitcher of that delicious Clover Club Cocktail and two glasses will be waiting for you to unwind with.

Every step towards the seclusion of the balcony that he has been sharing with you brings a little nervousness for Javi. It's a good possibility that it would become a tradition, one that he would enjoy immensely and tonight his heart is heavy with the knowledge that he has. Although he knows he needs to tell you, it's not something that he wants to start, keeping secrets. But how does one tell them that they will be investigated for a king's murder?

"You seem distracted, querido." It's just a small observation, but he had seemed to have a dark cloud over his head all through dinner. "If you do not have the energy to go to the vault after your day I will more than understand."

"No." His expression clears and he sends you a smile as he reaches over and pats your hand. "I feel as though the happiness of the moment will be much needed in the coming days." He admits softly. "My apologies if I have been negligent in attention."

“Not at all.” You shake your head and sip your drink, but turn to give him your full attention on the balcony. “Can you tell me what is upsetting you?”

"I met with my father's doctor today." He tells you quietly, looking down at his drink and sighing. "There will be an official inquiry in King Miguel's murder."

"Murder?" Hissing the word on the quietest whisper you can summon, you feel like your heart has stopped beating and it's a miracle you don't completely drop your cocktail. "My god. Javi, I'm— are you okay?" Setting the glass aside, you immediately reach for him to offer the comfort that you've already learned he craves. You're very alike in that way. "They're certain that it was intentional?"

"He— his medications were in purposefully tampered with. What was in the bottle was not the prescription and my father did not like taking medicine to begin with." Javi explains.

"Shit..." The word drags out as you shake your head, and you take a moment to breath as Javi leans into your arms out on the balcony. "I'm so sorry, love. So, so sorry." What else do you even say? His father was intentionally killed. Assassinated. It's completely beyond belief.

"They— they are going to question you." He decides you need to know everything about it. "Question me. I would rather they insult my integrity than for someone to get away with taking the last few weeks I had with my father away from me."

"Of course they will." You nod, albeit slowly, and gently squeeze his arms as he leans against you. "They should question everyone who had something to benefit from your father's death. Of course that includes us." Perhaps it is a particularly American point of view, but you don't even consider it an insult of integrity. It's just being thorough, and you can't even imagine a world in which this investigation is not thorough.

He sighs softly, relieved that you understand. He had been worried that you wouldn't, and resist an investigation, which would only make them look into you more. "They will exclude us quickly. It was never a secret about my desire to not be king."

"I imagine they will look into me much more deeply." A fact which, again, does not bother you. In fact you're fairly surprised at how unbothered you truly feel. It isn't even for Javi's benefit. "If the people do not know that their kings have arranged marriages already, they will find out soon enough."

"You have just arrived, and had few meetings with the king." Javi is sure they will clear you out of their questions. You did not kill his father.

"Javi." With one hand on his cheek, you offer him the most reassuring smile you can possibly muster in this moment. "I did not kill your father, and I had absolutely no reason to want to hurt him. But the investigation has to treat me as an equal suspect to everyone else, which means they will look into me in every way. And that definitely includes how you and I met." A few days is no time at all, and it will not take them long to clear your name from the list, but it still has to happen.

"I know." He leans into your touch and presses his forehead against yours. "I love you, Margarita. I don't know if I would be this calm if you weren't here."

"I love you, too, querido." It is deeply, earth-shakingly true, and you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. "We will get through this, and we will see the person responsible punished." Somehow you're certain of that, and it's a strength that you'll have to draw on in the weeks or even months to come. Depending on how long the investigation takes. "And in the meantime, it is our job to set an example for the people. To give them good things to look forward to despite the gloom."

"Which is why we need to keep our plan to visit the dungeon." Javi insists. "Our plans should not change because of this."

"Then how about we have a drink and go downstairs?" You suggest, wrapping one arm around his waist. "We can have our second glass when we come back up, before we crawl into bed?"

"That sounds like a perfect ending to a rather stressful day." He admits quietly. "Although one day, I swear you will be tired of me."

"I find that highly unlikely, handsome." Picking up your glass again, you raise it to him in a small salute and take a sip. "I don't remember Cinderella ever getting tired of Prince Charming in the fairy tales."

"That's because the movie ends at the 'happily ever after'." Javi jokes. "You don't see where Prince Charming snores or does other things in his sleep. Or chews with his mouth open."

"What else do you do in your sleep besides cuddle me?" Deciding to turn the conversation to something distracting like silliness, you raise one eyebrow at him and smirk. "And get morning wood, of course."

“I don’t know, I’m asleep.” He cannot believer that his face does not burst into flames it is so hot. “And I— I apologize again for that. I should not have pressed it against you.”

"You don't need to apologize." He had been embarrassed by it this morning but you waved it off, and now you simply smile. "Honestly I might have been more upset if it wasn't there," you tease gently. "At least I know you were having good dreams."

“I dreamed of you.” He admits, reaching for your hand. “And I know that if it was under different circumstances, I would ask to touch you.”

"There's no pressure for it to happen until you're absolutely ready," you promise him, watching your fingers lace through his as he holds your hand. "But when you're ready, I can all but guarantee that I will be, too."

“You want me?” Perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising, but it is. Surprising in the light that he’s aware of his own appeal but had thought that it would be something that was admitting later on, after time was spent together.

Charmed by the sweet softness of his reaction, you nod gently and shift slightly closer to him on the balcony as you sip your drinks together. “Badly,” you admit with a laugh. “But I’ll happily wait as long as you need. There really is no pressure.”

“There’s pressure.” Javi snorts, grinning when you do giggle. “But I want our first time to be free of the black cloud over us right now.”

“So maybe I should say that there’s no rush,” you clarify. “I had my appointment with the royal physician today, by the way. Officially not pregnant. But I knew that already.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through such an exam.” He apologizes, picking up your free hand and kissing it.

“The doctor was very polite, and it was done quickly. Honestly? I wish all gynecologist exams were a simple ultrasound and a pee test.” Given what they really are like, you just shrug and offer Javi a smile. “And now it’s done. So the decision of when to take the next step is purely up to us.”

“I want it to happen naturally.” Javi admits quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Not because of anything but that you and I want each other.”

“It will be. Whenever we’re ready.” You’re certainly not about to pressure him, and you tilt your head back to kiss his cheek softly. “But until then, I do like waking up in your arms.”

He hums, happy that you enjoy being close to him because your presence calms him down and he has slept through the night when he hadn't expected to sleep at all. "Let’s go look at every woman's favorite thing." He teases. "Jewelry."

“I’m not even going to debate you on that.” The two of you finish your first glasses together and he leads the way – down into the bowels of the palace to the vault where the Crown Jewels are kept.

"The dungeon was converted around the time of my great-grandfather." Javi tells you as the stone walls start to slowly get closer and the electrical runs in conduit since it was obviously added after construction. "The security has improved, but I don't think anyone really wants to break into a dungeon. For obvious reasons."

"They would if they knew what was down here." There are soldiers posted along the long hallway – palace security wearing a badge of special significance, and you follow their lead by returning their small nods of acknowledgement on your way to the main door. A broad man with an unmoving expression takes one look at the pair of you and moves to unlock the door with an elaborate code.

"Anything and everything in here can be worn." He explains. "Although some are used for special occasions only."

"Good lord..." You murmur, gasping softly as you look around the twinkling room at all of the gems winking back at you in their soft, golden lighting. "I didn't think there would be so much!"

"It is a lot, isn't it?" Javi asks as he looks around, trying to see it through someone’s eyes who has never seen it before.

"I mean it's beautiful, it's just...a whole lot." Your hand is still in his, and you tug him forward a little so that you're both fully inside the middle of the room. "Do you want to show me your mother's tiara, querido?"

Of course he does. “It is over here, with my father’s— my crown.” The lights shine on the pair as they sit on crushed velvet pillows.

There is a trio of headpieces under the brightest light in the dungeon. King Miguel's preferred crown sits beside a more petite version of its magnificence, and beside that there is a glamorous tiara of countless carefully carved diamonds in a combination of shapes and sizes to create a repeated teardrop pattern that takes your breath away.

"It's gorgeous," you sigh, equal parts afraid to go anywhere near it and wishing you could reach out and touch it.

“Perhaps you should try on the others first.” Javi offers, pushing a button on the wall so that it slides open and rows of tiara’s and crowns appear. “So you can say you didn’t just choose the first one.”

"I don't think anyone could blame me for choosing the first option, but I'm also not about to protest looking at more tiaras..." It's such a surreal thing to say, and you cling a little more tightly to Javi's hand as he walks you over to the wall that just popped open in every conceivable way. "Do you have a favourite?" You ask him, eyes drifting over the large collection. "Besides your mother's, I mean?"

“I do.” Javi moves over to the case and selects a specific on. It’s too elegant for his more causal dinner suit. The sapphires that are in the middle shine like fire, surrounded by the diamonds. “This one.”

"Oh wow..." In the back of your head you have a feeling that you're probably not going to be able to manage full sentences which each of these gorgeous pieces of jewelry, but you inspect the twinkling sapphires and diamonds in his hands with wide eyes. "I—I can wear whatever one you want," you promise him, knowing that the moment you are crowned will be caught on camera to be added to Balearican history books. "As long as you're proud to be putting it on my head, the tiara can look like anything."

“Whichever one you wish, my Princess.” He murmurs, smiling at the awed expression on your face. “They will all look lovely atop your head.”

"I can't believe I actually get to wear one of these," you admit with a sheepish grin. "That you actually want me to wear one. With everything that it means..."

“There is no one else I wish to wear it.” Javi murmurs softly. It’s true, even as much as he had cared for Gabriela, you have come to mean more. His father had been right that he would move on after she and Lucas had been married.

"I love you, too." Even murmured into the darkness, it is such a relief to mean it so deeply. For almost your entire life you were terrified that it might not happen, and now here you are. Completely in love with him in a mere two days.

“You will be a queen who is beloved by her people.” Javi predicts with a smile. “And her king.”

“I truly hope so.” Although it might be awful to admit, in this moment, that his love currently means far more to you. It is only because you have not yet had a chance to really be a part of this kingdom — only of his life.

“So, do you have anything that speaks to you?” He asks curiously. “My mother said her favorite tiara spoke to her. She wore others, but that was the one she wore most.”

“I think something a little less grand calls to me,” you confess. It is almost like the feeling tells you that modesty will be an immense virtue in this case. There is one on the second shelf that is composed of small, winking diamonds and scrolling gold so that it almost looks like curls if you think about it on someone’s head. It is delicate and elegant without being too small or understated. “Wearing your mother’s tiara for the crowning will be the most appropriate, but I believe that this one,” you point it out carefully. “Might be my favourite?”

“Elegant, understated and sophisticated.” Javi takes the crown from the shelf with care and he smiles down at it. “Try it on?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Is that…okay?” It seems like the sort of thing that belongs untouched in a museum even though you know logically that these things are just incredibly expensive and elaborate jewelry. Jewelry that is meant to be worn.

“Margarita, all of these jewels are to be worn by the royal family. Which you are now a part of.” He reminds you. “It is perfectly okay. If you wanted to wear a tiara while in your pajamas and drinking wine, it would be okay.”

“That sounds like the most decadent idea you could possibly have.” And you can’t help but laugh at it, feeling light and giggly at the image.

“Perhaps.” He chuckles. “You might like to have a party like “The Princess Diaries 2.” He jokes, remembering the Princess sleepover party that had actually seemed pretty cute.

“A bachelorette party of preteen princesses?” That makes you laugh again, and you eye the tiara in his hands. “I didn’t think real princesses had bachelorette parties.”

“Real princesses can have any kind of bachelorette party they want.” Javi reveals. “There is normally a press blackout on those days. And it’s held somewhere that is discreet.”

“Hmm.” Pretending to think very hard about it, you end up grinning. “So not Vegas, then? I would never consider Vegas discreet, although they do say that whatever happens there, stays there.”

“I have always wanted to visit.” His eyes widen at the thought and he grins. “Although I’m sure you would want to go to Monte Carlo.”

“Is Monte Carlo better?” The way his eyes widen makes you want to promise you’ll take him to the States immediately, but you know that that is tricky. Especially right now. “I don’t know anything except that it’s supposed to be very fancy.”

“It is. But it’s less…flashy than Las Vegas? At least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve been to Monte Carlo many times and I’ve enjoyed it a lot.”

“I guess we’ll have to see what we want to do.” You will encourage the thought constantly, though, knowing that he has spent a long time being denied things. Adventure within reason should not exclude some safe travel destinations. “Both of us.”

“A— a joint thing?” He asks in surprise. Delighted surprise, but surprise.

“It can be whatever we want.” The gentle reminder that he makes his own decisions now does not go awry, and you don’t harp on the fact that it’s because his father has died, either. “We can certainly do something together if that is what you want.”

“I think that we should decide when it comes. First we have to get through the other pressing matters.” Javi tells you, guiding you towards the mirror that is gilded and has been in the family for years. “Now, see what you will look like wearing your tiara.”

It seems like the air is sucked out of the room when he turns you to face the mirror, and frames himself against your back to set the delicate tiara on your head for the very first time. Its scrolls and shimmering diamonds look brilliant in the low light, winking back at you in the gilded mirror and making you look nearly ethereal. Before this moment you would have said it was silly to talk or think that way, but here you are – standing in front of a mirror and gasping at the image in front of you so earnestly that you actually might shed a tear.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, his fingers trailing along your shoulders to rest there. “The Princess that will become queen. My bride to be. My margarita.”

______

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