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heartkyeom · 11 months

Text

be sweet

prince!hoshi x princess!reader (svthub garden collab)

word count: 18.7k

warnings: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, modern royalty au, family issues, descriptions of food, unprotected sex

tag list (only svthub members since I’m revamping my tag list): @bitchlessdino @wondernus @idyllic-ghost @strawberryya @junkissed

notes: oh my god I finally have another fic out!! this one was truly a labor of love, thank you to all the svthub members that beta read any part of this story. this fic is for the @svthub garden collab and I am extremely grateful for the network’s help with this story <3 I’m very happy that this aligned with hoshi’s birthday! and a big big thank you to my beloved @wondernus for making this amazing header for me!!! as always, I hope y’all enjoy this and please leave feedback through reblogs !!!! and the title is based off the amazing song be sweet by japanese breakfast, listen along to it if you’d like!

The day’s events shouldn’t have felt so taxing, yet they were. There were only a few meetings you had to sit in on, both not requiring full participation. That sounded easy enough for you to handle, you were used to the rigor of royal meetings for years now.

It was easy enough to brush off any requests with a short comment of approval or neutrality, never expressing a thought of negativity unless the guest was close to your family.

You didn’t pull the princess card very often, especially since your meetings mainly consisted of fellow royals who knew the pressure of the job, but today felt different.

Maybe it was the dull pressure that resided in your head, making it hard to focus on the topics at hand. You curse yourself for not taking some kind of headache relief earlier, but now it has lodged itself in the middle of your brain.

You almost work up the nerve to speak up, but your aide beats you to it.

“Princess,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, “there's an urgent matter. We should leave immediately.” Her hushed tone makes your heart clench.

You could only hope no one in your family was hurt. You silently nod and clear your throat, bringing attention to yourself.

“I’m so sorry, but something urgent came up. I have to go, but please make sure to send me any notes and I’ll be sure to review them before we meet again,” You offer the room a small smile, enough to garner empathetic nods from the room.

You let out a shaky breath and stand from your seat, your aide trailing slightly behind your side as you both exit the room in silence.

“What’s going on?” You ask hesitantly.

“Someone has requested a private meeting with you, they asked to keep their identity a secret. Everyone in the family is okay, don’t worry,” The aide turns her head slightly to make sure she can see your response.

You can’t help but ask about your family first, it’s the only thought you have as the only child.

If someone’s passed on, you’re stepping up to handle the situation, and the emergency plans start to kick into high gear.

Luckily, that nightmare can remain at rest.

“Okay,” you nod slowly, trying to process who could want a private meeting with you.

Is an elder statesman concerned about his country? An estranged family member asking for a favor? It really could be anything or anyone.

You both keep a consistent pace through the cavernous halls of the royal estate, your footsteps echoing loudly with each step. You soon arrive at one of many conference rooms, and you’re surprised to see your aide face her back towards the door, she steps aside to let you walk in.

“I’ll be out here if you need anything, lest it escalates to that point,” She raises her eyebrows at you before looking away. That wasn’t a reassuring sign.

You brace yourself before going inside, but nothing seems to prepare you for who’s waiting.

“Hi, lovely.” Kwon Soonyoung smiles at you in a menacingly sweet kind of way, it makes your blood boil.

He’s dressed much nicer than you’re used to seeing him, he’s the type to wear baggy clothes that swallow him whole. In contrast, today he wears a crisp button-down with black slacks, his suit coat nowhere to be found. His signature designer sneakers are exchanged for loafers instead. There’s no logical reason why he could be here, considering his own busy schedule as a prince.

Soonyoung isn’t flying in for a private conversation just for the hell of it.

“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance.

“That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth.

You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.

Most princesses knew to let each other know that if they were charmed by him, Soonyoung was ultimately not marriage material. If anything, he was determined to make himself the least suitable husband possible.

He was the typical sweet boy turned party animal, spending most nights abroad drinking his days away with a new girl in his bed every night. He does show up to the occasional political obligation, but only when his team forces him to. That’s one reason why he bothers you so much, he has such little duty to his native country of Aranorin and the people in it that everyone else has to make him care about it.

“You’re joking, there’s no fucking way,” Your body vibrates from laughter, but you slowly come to your senses once you see he’s not cracking another joke.

“I’m not joking, I’m here to start our courtship.” His serious tone makes you start to consider the gravity of the situation.

“Hold on, so you think you can just come into Maritria, coming from god knows where,” You make a broad gesture toward him before continuing, “to formally start our relationship. That’s what you’re saying,” You cross your arms, returning to your originally defensive stance.

“Yes, this isn’t just coming out of thin air. This has been in the works for a few months now,” He raises his eyebrows to punctuate the timeline. It just makes you even more confused. Why wouldn’t anyone tell you about this?

“What do you mean?” You question.

He braces himself one last time. “I’ve been speaking to the king and queen about arranging our marriage for two months,” You almost think his face goes slightly sympathetic at his admission, but that’s wishful thinking.

Regardless, it’s a blow to your ego.

How could they not tell you? How could they so easily shift the responsibility onto him without saying a word?

It would be one thing if they were still considering other men, but to know the talks were final, that Kwon Soonyoung was your future husband whether you liked it or not, was a devastating realization.

“This is unbelievable.” You let out a shaky whisper, you’re so rattled that you force yourself to sit down and close your eyes, willing yourself to take a deep breath.

You open your eyes to see him hovering near you, clearly a stifled attempt to try and comfort you. Yet, he’s the least comforting person you’ve ever known.

“I don’t want to do this either. You’re definitely not my first choice for a wife.” He scoffs at the possibility that he could ever choose you without incentive.

“Yeah, clearly. You’d rather want a girl who would kiss your ass every day instead of being honest with you.” You retort.

The gossip that flitted between young royals all but confirmed your suspicion that he dumped any girl that tried to make a long-term connection with him. It was fine if he didn’t want to get married. Not all royals are meant for it, and he didn’t have as much pressure to marry off as the youngest child. He could get away with being a lifetime bachelor, but choosing that lifestyle wasn’t worth hurting other people in the process.

“Aw, is lifetime celibacy boring you that much to the point where you’re worried about the girls I sleep with?” He cracks a smile that you match with a forced laugh.

“No, I just think you dump them as soon as they realize how small your dick is.” You smile through your response, causing him to form his arms together.

“You’re so lucky now that we’re together, you can finally stop waiting for those nice guys who don’t have a personality to sweep you up,” His condescending tone makes you frustrated but not deterred from bantering completely.

“So I can end up dating one of your dickhead friends instead? Absolutely not,” You shake your head knowing how insufferable most of his friends are. Soonyoung just happened to be the worst of them.

“All jokes aside, I know you’re perfectly aware of why we’re getting married. I don’t have to look at the news to know things are bleak,” His straightforward approach forces you to swallow the lump in your throat.

You knew the country’s finances were not great.

You didn’t want or need to see the exact numbers, especially if it makes your day-to-day duties labored with worry. Although many political teams insist that princesses have no business in the logistical affairs of running a country, it meant everything to you to know how your country was faring in the world. Maritria already maintained a longstanding connection with Aranorin that gave your country some freedom to pursue other lucrative opportunities, but it dawned on you that it wasn’t enough.

“I’m doing this for my country, not out of some pathetic excuse you may have to avoid self-reflection. You can just get married to me and stop pretending to be a good person, right?” You ask bitingly.

“We both know I stopped pretending a long time ago. Marrying the nation’s sweetheart is just a bonus,” He smirks unapologetically, you don’t like the way the nickname sits on his tongue as if it’s his own.

“Is there anything else you want? I need to get back to work,” You stand up from your seat, trying not to look back at the door while you plot your escape. It was hard enough not to completely explode at him, and you needed to redirect your energy elsewhere.

“There is, I got you something,” He retrieves a small velvet box from his pocket. “It’s not an engagement ring, but just consider it a courtship gift.”

You open the box and lightly examine the ring. You know it’s far too expensive than most of the jewelry you’ve ever worn. Your family was wealthy, but Soonyoung’s family had the kind of money that you didn’t need to plan so carefully around. However, you don’t want to seem so easily impressed.

“It’s fine. When are you planning on proposing?” You brush him off easily.

“That ruins the surprise.” He smiles at you yet your face remains stoic.

“I’ll get your number from someone else, I don’t want to drag this out anymore.” You stuff the box in your dress pocket and start to make your way toward the exit.

“It’s been horrible to see you again, Your Royal Highness.” His stiffly formal greeting makes you turn around to face him.

You squint your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“The Royal Highness thing,” You point at yourself before continuing, “I’m not gonna say Your Royal Highness every time we’re in private. Don’t start giving a shit now.”

“Fine. Bye, darling.” He quips.

Your face contorts into disgust before you can stop yourself. “You’re not gonna make that my mandated wife nickname.”

“You don’t get to choose the nickname I give you, honey.” He approaches you and pinches your cheek before speaking, “Besides, it’ll be fun to try to figure out how to mask my hate for you in public.”

You cringe at his touches, but you straighten up immediately.

“Likewise,” You offer a tight-lipped smile before finally leaving the room.

You close the door behind you and take the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? I need time to deal with this,” You finally look at your aide with an expectant glance.

“Yes, of course, princess.” She immediately grabs her phone to send notices to those involved. You can’t even remember who you were meant to see for the rest of the day. Your mind simply wanders to your parents, the next targets of your rage.

“I’m gonna go home. I don’t want to see anyone unless it’s my parents. Or him, not that I want him around anyways,” You roll your eyes at the thought of having to voluntarily communicate with him on a regular basis.

“Sounds good. I have his phone number, if you’d like it.” She offers.

“Ok,” You agree and quickly input his phone number. As you type in a contact name, you’re not sure what to call him.

Soonyoung is far too casual, it doesn’t feel comfortable yet. You’re absolutely not calling him by his title, not by a long shot.

The romantic pet names similar to the ones he used with you were not earned, so it left you stumped.

You settle on “headache,” because the ache in your temple is still there, bothering you immensely and now he’s adding to it.

You’re just lucky that you didn’t end up shouting at each other this time.

—

As if they could read your mind, your parents call you in for an emergency meeting before you can make it home. That pent-up rage is starting to make its way out before you even see them, it shows in the way you stomp to your father’s main office, marching far ahead of your aide.

You open the door without knocking, a major sign that you’re not looking forward to the discussion.

Your father gives you a warning look, but you’re not bothered by it. The staff turns their attention toward your bold entrance, immediately preparing themselves to leave.

Your father is sitting in his velvet study chair, poised as always. Your mother stands behind your father, idly leaning her weight against the back wall.

Her demeanor is not as composed, as if she knows you’re about to raise hell.

“We’d like a private meeting, thank you,” He gives a pained smile to the staff and they all file out silently. You watch them with a fiery gaze, waiting for the last person to close the door behind you.

When the door finally shuts, you whip your gaze to face them again.

“Soonyoung? Are you kidding me?” You exclaim.

“Y/N, please,” Your mother tries to intercept, but you’re faster than that.

“Actually, I’d like to know exactly why I was left out of the conversation about me having an arranged marriage, to begin with,” You cross your arms and lean back in your chair, preparing yourself for a bullshit excuse.

“Well, we were anticipating this kind of reaction,” he gestures at you in disapproval, “you weren’t meant to be involved in these discussions in the first place.” He speaks to you so patronizingly that it almost catches you off guard.

“So you can just decide that I’m getting married on a whim, just like that.” You snap your fingers impatiently.

“You know how the country is currently faring, you knew marriage could possibly be an option for financial security almost a year ago. Please don’t act like this is some affront to you,” Your father slowly raises his voice, fists slowly clenching as he elaborates.

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me things were this bad. You didn’t tell me that you had tried everything else. Hell, you didn’t even tell me that you were starting discussions about marriage!” You were trying your best to keep your voice even, but the defeat was starting to show through.

“We ultimately thought leaving you in the dark was best, but we miscalculated.” Your mother tries to cover for your father’s stern approach. You scoff, turning away for a moment before continuing.

Miscalculated is an understatement. You were devastated.

Your father seems to be annoyed that you were showing this much emotion while your mother seems ashamed that the situation has escalated this far. Their conflicting expressions just made you feel even worse, knowing that they couldn’t act as a united front. You wished that it was either complete anger or support from both of them.

“Soonyoung. You can’t possibly tell me he was the only option,” You turn back to them with glossy eyes.

“Sweetheart, you know Arinorin is one of our most important allies. Soonyoung would have always been an option. Even if there were better options, we couldn’t ignore him.” Her comforting tone does little to comfort you at the moment.

A tear finally falls onto your cheek. Her words hurt because she was right. Even if there was a perfect prince waiting for you out there, he wasn’t the prince of Arinorin.

“He hates me, you don’t see how much he hates me.” You shake your head and cover your face with your hands. You’re fully sobbing into your hands and it leaves your parents speechless. You know they’re looking at you with full judgment, but it didn’t matter.

“You’re giving your only daughter away to a man who despises her.” You seethe through your tears.

“He hasn’t given us any reason not to trust him.” Your father speaks up again and it breaks you down even further. He has that immovable stare on his face that signals his word is final.

You compose yourself before speaking again.

“When we get a divorce, it’ll be your fault.” You lift your hand to your cheeks, wiping away any stray tears left on your face.

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re saying that you won’t even try for your country?” Your father shifts in his seat, it seems like he wants to jump up and fully lecture you but it won’t happen.

You finally snap. “I have tried for this country! Every day, I have shown both of you what I’m capable of as a future queen, not asking you for anything. Now, the one part of my life where I should have control, choosing the person I’m married to, I have none.” By the time you finish speaking, your tears are gone by sheer will. Your eyes burn with the familiar sting of fatigue mixed with anger bubbling over the surface.

“I’m sorry, dear.” You see your mother wipe a tear of her own. You were grateful that she saw through you, at least at this moment. It was a quiet show of support that you needed amongst all these difficult feelings.

You put your head in your hands for a moment before looking up at them. “I’m going home and someone will send me the things I need to wrap my head around this entire situation.” Your tone is far more measured compared to before.

Before you can hurt your own feelings by hearing them out, you decide to make your exit. You’re nearly out of the door before you turn around again, letting go of the doorknob.

“I’ll always remember that he told me first instead of you.” With that, you leave without looking back at their expressions.

Hopefully, it’ll hurt like hell for them to hear it.

You ignore the staff members that were peering near the door, eagerly waiting to see who would break first. You’re sure that it looks dramatic, but you were far too concerned with your own feelings before anyone else’s.

—

Once you made it home, you were attempting to forget the stress of the day and it was going relatively well. You were able to catch up on a TV show you’d been forgetting to watch, and finally remembering to do self-care tasks that were left unattended due to your work.

Now, you’re taking a bubble bath with no intention of opening your eyes anytime soon. You needed to just sit, you didn’t have much time to do that most days.

The water is still fairly hot, enough to where you can sink down and continue to salvage any remaining calmness you might’ve had left.

Thus, your vibrating phone didn’t exactly make you feel at ease. You hope that it wasn’t one of your parents, considering your conversation didn’t have a clean finish. Any of their apologies would be falling on stubborn ears.

You glance at your lock screen and if anything, it’s worse.

It’s him. You pick up the phone with an anxious hand and press the accept button.

“What do you want?” You snap at him.

“You actually picked up!” He notes with a hint of surprise.

“Trust me, I didn’t want to.” You shift uncomfortably in the bathtub, the sloshing water calling you out immediately.

“Is that water? What are you doing?” His curious nature already annoys you, so it’ll be easier to dodge the question.

“None of your business.” Your free hand cups the remaining bubbles in the bath.

“Oh my god, is the princess naked on the phone with me?” He sounds far too pleased with himself. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin in the way he replies.

“You’re a horny little freak who hasn’t told me why he’s called yet.” You force yourself to sit up now that the relaxation in your body is quickly dissipating.

“Right. We’re doing intimacy coordination tomorrow. I figured you didn’t look at that schedule they gave you.”

“Shit.” You sigh just out of earshot.

Intimacy coordination isn’t common at all with arranged royal marriages. If a couple looked like they had never met before in their life, it was typically on them for not being more convincing. Yet, the number of public events you two have to be involved in over the foreseeable future warranted different circumstances. If you couldn’t look head over heels for each other at the wedding, it was going to spell trouble for both countries.

“I’m only in town until tomorrow night, so I don’t have to look at your face for much longer than that,” You sigh at his response, knowing that he’s not one to hold back with you.

“I wish you could leave sooner, maybe I could actually enjoy not seeing you even more than I already do.” You reach to open the drain.

“Just practicing my future husband duties by stressing you out, love,” You can practically hear his smile through the phone.

“That one isn’t bad, actually,” Your thoughts trail off once you hear it, but he brings you back to reality almost immediately.

“So that’s definitely not what I’m gonna call you.”

“I’m hanging up.” Your waning patience with him has officially run out and you’re itching to move on with your night.

“Bye, honey!” He’s laughing uncontrollably through the response and it makes your blood boil. It’s clear that this is already a joke to him.

“Fuck off,” You hang up before you have to listen to his laughter any longer. You put your head in your hands and let out a muffled scream.

He already wanted to make this courtship as excruciating as possible.

You finally stand up from the bath and wrap a warm towel around your body, staring at your reflection in the mirror.

Luckily, your parents did listen to your request and a massive document of schedules and timelines of your relationship with Soonyoung appeared in your email inbox.

You had only skimmed the schedule before Soonyoung called you, you stopped looking at it before it stressed you out beyond repair.

According to the timeline your parents created in accordance with his team, you were supposed to have been dating for 11 months at this point.

You can’t possibly imagine putting up a front for 11 months, but then again, you would have to pretend for the rest of your life.

That thought haunts you through the rest of your night routine.

How do you carve your life around Soonyoung when he’s creeping his way into everything?

How do you find peace when you’re with someone who’s determined to misunderstand you?

These questions have you wiping your tears as you attempt to fall asleep that night.

—

To your dismay, the intimacy training was first thing in the morning.

You were barely conscious, but somehow you arrived early with a slightly cloudy mentality and an overall dread for the next 2 hours.

You were the first of the three, besides your personal staff members, to arrive at the dance studio. You figured the space was far too big for what you were working through today, but you forego criticism to admire the room.

Admittedly, you didn’t go into many of the creative spaces throughout the palace because you weren’t a creative type. The arts were simply something you admired from afar, you didn’t have the talent even as a child to pursue these things seriously.

This apparently needed to be remedied as you notice the sweeping mirrors around the perimeter of the room. The hardwood floors were practically shining underneath your feet. You’re sure that whoever used the room was sure to enjoy themselves.

You’re admiring yourself in the mirror when you catch Soonyoung entering the room. He quietly greets the staff, giving short bows to everyone in sight.

It’s the only time you’ve seen him act with a royal demeanor, even in his casual workout clothes it’s a bit surprising to see him this way.

He makes his way over to you with a smile on his face.

“You’re early.” He eyes you up and down.

“Unfortunately, yes. You look.. comfortable.” You don’t mean to raise your voice up another octave, but you were just barely attempting niceties.

“So do you, you actually don’t look like you're trying too hard for once.” He leans against the mirror and gives you another judgmental look.

“It’s far too early in the morning to play this game, Kwon Soonyoung. Don’t get your feelings hurt.” You close your eyes before you get too angry, a slight change of pace from your typical interactions with him.

“It’s fine. I’m sure you’ll be more awkward considering you’ve only had two boyfriends, one who looked like he was your son.” He stifled a giggle.

“Chan was so sweet.” You pouted at the thought of your teenage boyfriend. He really was kind, probably the perfect first boyfriend that you could ask for. You remember how much he cried when you broke up with him. You just weren’t the same person you were when you started dating him at 16, so you needed the space to grow apart.

Unfortunately, Soonyoung was right about the mom thing.

“It’s not my fault I had a growth spurt and the stylists kept dressing me like a divorce lawyer.” You insisted.

You recalled how harsh the style blogs were on you back then, many claimed that you’d never find your own personal style as long as other people kept dressing you older than you actually were. Unfortunately, they were also right. You live and learn though.

However, you didn’t even want to think about your second boyfriend.

“I’m just saying good chemistry doesn’t come naturally to all of us, it’s okay to ask for help.” His faux concern was especially irritating.

You weren’t that awkward with men, were you?

You didn’t have much time to consider an answer before a young woman walked into the studio.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both! My name is Elise and I’ll be leading you both through training today.” She offers her hand out to you for a handshake and you accept with a smile. She does the same to Soonyoung and moves toward the mirror.

“So, how long have you known each other?” She dives right into discussions with the question.

“Around 15 years or so?” The number that came out of your mouth was definitely a rough estimate, but it sounded about right.

You vaguely remember being introduced to Soonyoung and his older siblings at a fancy state dinner as a child. He was far less mischievous then, a bit timid around everyone except his family. Since then, you’ve ran into each other regularly due to the relationship between your parents. They were far closer to each other than you were with him and his siblings, so the situation feels a bit ironic now.

“Okay, but I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact very often?” She clarifies.

“Not at all.” He chimes in.

“Right, so we’ve got our work cut out for us then. Today isn’t gonna be too complicated, you’re just gonna be trying some physical activities to see how natural that looks.” Elise smiles in order to lighten the mood, but you’re certain it won’t work out.

“So, what are we gonna practice, hugging?” He scoffs, and you’re certain that he thinks this is all bullshit. You weren’t happy about it either, but keeping up appearances was the most important part of this.

“Yes, I know that sounds weird, but I promise it’ll pay off,” Elise continues to offer reassuring statements, but he’s not convinced and frankly, neither are you. You exchange a glance with him and decide to take the lead as the awkwardness continues to sit in the air.

“So where should we start?” You ask out of a mix of curiosity and dread.

“Let’s just have you both hold hands.”

Soonyoung extends a hand out to you with a smirk on his face. You’d rather slap him, but you’d think it would leave Elise traumatized.

You take his hand a bit too forcefully and adjust yourself within his hold. By glancing at the two of you in the mirror, you notice two things.

First, his hands are warm, a bit too warm for this moment.

Secondly, his thumb is absentmindedly brushing against the back of your hand. You can’t call attention to it or else it’ll stop, and you decide in the moment that it’s too relaxing. He probably doesn’t even notice that he’s doing something so romantic, that little bastard.

“Okay, so how does that feel?” Elise asks.

“Fine.” The reply forces itself out of your mouth.

“It’s fine.” He agrees with a nod of his head. He also peers at the both of you in the mirror with a slight curiosity, his head tilting slightly.

“We do look good together, though.” He murmurs to himself. You’re not sure if it’s the arrogance peeking through and he only believes you look good while he’s with you, but maybe for a second, you can see what he’s talking about.

“Good, and what’s a small physical gesture you can do to make each other feel at ease?” Elise’s question causes you to look up at him.

This feels unnecessary since Soonyoung is not a nervous person. No matter what, his particularly frustrating charm and gregarious personality never allow any anxiety to show to others.

“I can just do this.” He calls attention to the thumb thing and that puts you on the spot.

He seems incapable of needing comfort. It’s one of the things that keeps a silent distance between the two of you. You believe that he remains emotionally stunted in order to navigate his world a bit easier.

He can let the girls who want something more from him down easy, and they don’t realize how bad it really felt to be pushed away until they never see him again.

You didn’t want to end up in that position.

“I don’t know.” You let your mind wander for a moment.

Yet, he was bold. He was always decisive in what he wanted, never caring about what his actions made him look like if it was for better or worse.

You figured that you should be bold too.

You intertwine your fingers deeper into his grasp and pull his hand to your lips, leaving a small peck on the back of his hand.

His eyes widened immediately. “That’s quite forward, princess.”

“I needed to one-up you,” You answer nonchalantly, but you don’t miss the slight spark in his eyes. It was unexpected, and you were always going by the book.

Elise ignores your conversation and continues her questioning. “So I assume you both will be interested in PDA?”

“To a certain extent, I don't see why not.” You pull back slightly into your reserved nature, but he runs with it.

“Yes, we’re supposed to be a more open and progressive couple to represent a new generation of royals, so it would be nice to be a bit bolder,” He nods decisively along with his response.

You didn’t really think about the relationship like that until he mentioned it. While you were attuned to a certain sense of responsibility as the singular face of your country’s new generation of leadership, it was known that you fought back against regressive norms brought up in your daily work.

Why not lean into something new when the image of your respective countries so desperately needed a refresh?

“That’s good to know. I know you both have different styles, but I think there are ways we can meet in the middle here.” Elise notes.

That statement proves to be true for the rest of your session. Elise leads you both through hugging and slightly provocative gestures that make you want to crawl out of your skin, but you both fumble your way through it.

Soonyoung seems insistent on embarrassing you with more revealing gestures while yours are relatively contained. He’s being a bit too playful for your liking, but it helps you understand his personality a bit more.

You decide that you want a moment to speak with him before he flies back home later that evening, excusing Elise and the remaining staff to leave you both in the studio.

“When do we see each other again?” You ask.

“You’re a bit too eager, aren’t you darling?” He smirks at you, and you lose the slight bit of faith you had instilled in him before.

“Shut up, I’m just trying to remember this stupid schedule.” You grumble. You resort to pulling out your phone instead, quickly finding the most up-to-date iteration of the relationship timeline in your email inbox.

“I’ll be in Arinorin in a few weeks to meet your parents,” Your brain works through the schedule quickly, scanning the information fast enough to say it out loud.

“Oh shit.” He mutters under his breath.

Oh shit was right. You haven’t had a proper conversation with the king and queen since you were a teenager. It was typical family friend fare, asking how your studies were going, if your hobbies were still things you enjoyed and a faint interest in any other topics that you happened to bring up.

Since then, there were only brief interactions in passing that were fairly positive. They must’ve thought quite well of you if they agreed to have their youngest son marry you, but that was something you’d have to inquire about with them.

“And to go on a date with you,” You mumbled.

That’s what really rattled you. It wouldn’t be real until no one else was around to direct and stage your romance, it was up to the both of you to make it happen.

“Right, I’ll get to choose what we get up to.” You can tell that his brain is creating a vision that will be less than satisfactory, and you can’t fight the urge to attempt to gain control.

“We aren’t going on your yacht, are we? I think you’ve broken enough hearts there.” You tease him.

“Very funny, and no, we’re not going on the boat… anymore.” He admits with an eye roll.

“See! I knew you were gonna take me there!” You interject, letting out the laugh that had been sitting in your chest for a minute or so.

“I’m never anybody’s boyfriend, cut me some slack,” He says it as if it’d get him off the hook for being mentally checked out during this process.

That much was obvious from the lack of planning, but you’d have to give him some space to try and impress you.

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear. I know long-term planning isn’t your strength.” You bite back and he brushes it off easily.

“Get all your jokes out now, but I’m gonna impress you. Mark my words,” He points at you while heading towards the door.

“We’ll see about that, loverboy,” You check your phone absentmindedly while he sees himself out.

“Is that my nickname?” He pokes his head back into the door with an excited tone.

“Bye, Soonyoung,” You grit your teeth into a smile and watch him reluctantly leave the room.

You can only hope your future in-laws aren’t as insufferable as him.

—

A few weeks later, the trip to Arinorin has arrived and all of its possible consequences are driving you up a wall. The culmination of meeting with your future in-laws, the date with Soonyoung, and the idea of being perceived as his partner outside of your home country are all slightly nauseating.

At first, it was just fun and games, but now, as the plane lands, the tension settles beneath your skin. Soonyoung was supposed to be picking you up, but you didn’t have much faith in that happening.

You barely remembered to grab the ring he gifted you so you could wear it while you were in town, simply as a reminder that this was all happening.

You exit the plane with your luggage in tow, only for Soonyoung to be waiting on the tarmac. He’s accompanied by a large black SUV that is clearly not his personal car, but his stance is trying to convince you that it is.

“Hi, princess.” He calls out with a wave of his hand.

“When are you gonna actually call me by my name?” You approach him with squinted eyes, your vision steadily adjusting to the early afternoon sun.

“When this feels less awkward, so give or take a few years,” He jokes.

“Not funny,” You gesture to him to take your luggage, and he catches the hint once you look at him again. You don’t want to shoulder smaller tasks onto his staff, you wanted to see how he would handle these things instead.

“How was the flight?” He calls out to you again, you hear the trunk slam shut and he comes into view again to anticipate your answer.

“It was alright, I’m just tired.” You rub at your temples to punctuate the feeling.

“Hopefully your room will be good enough,” He sounds somewhat considerate while opening the door for you. It feels wrong.

You slide into the back row with him following behind you. He shuts the door and his driver promptly begins the drive to the palace.

“Are you nervous about the trip? My parents aren’t exactly as kind as yours,” Soonyoung chuckles.

You let out a deep sigh. You wouldn’t call them kind considering the circumstances, in fact, you’re barely on speaking terms with them outside of public obligations.

Was it petty? Yes.

Was it also justified? Yes.

You figured that icing them out for a while would help them come to their senses. If worst comes to worst, maybe it could help you gain further control over the wedding.

Nevertheless, you were still upset with them.

“They’re really not that great, and I’d say that I’m pretty good with parents,” You avoid his glance to look out the window instead, taking in the sights of the country.

You don’t have many memories of Arinorin. Many of them were informed by meetings that you couldn’t even remember anymore.

“You’re right. The nation’s sweetheart can charm anyone. Plus it’ll give me time to think about what we’re gonna do on the date,” He affirms with a nod of his head.

“God, don’t remind me. If I’m lucky, we’ll be meeting at a strip club.” You roll your eyes.

“You really have no faith in me!” He pouts. You don’t give into him though.

“It's hard enough just being in a car with you.”

—

Soonyoung doesn’t ever have to think about first dates.

In fact, he doesn’t think he’s been on a proper first date since he was a teenager. Even then, it was low stakes. He could just pick something random for him and another girl to do, and it would be completely inconsequential to his life.

Now, impressing his future wife with an incredible first date feels monumental. He barely knew anything about you besides that goody two shoes personality of yours. It seemed like everyone was suddenly obsessed with you and he was the last to know.

He decides that a midday picnic is inoffensive enough for the both of you to enjoy. If either of you were miserable with each other, there would at least be good food to distract from it. The sunny weather was already on his side, now he just had to charm you.

You waved slightly as you approached his picnic blanket, stopping before your feet could cover the edge of the blanket.

“Wow, this is a lot,” Your eyes landed on the assortment of food spread across the blanket. There was a spread of fruit, snacks, and sandwiches for the two of you to eat together. Soonyoung knew he didn’t completely fuck up by the way you nodded, but you weren’t exactly jumping to praise him in general.

“I don’t get a hello?” He attempts a greeting but it falls flat.

You roll your eyes. “Hi, Soonyoung,” You state halfheartedly, crossing your arms in protest.

“Hi. Does the food look alright?” He takes off his sunglasses and fixes his gaze on you.

“Yeah, I figured you’d be inept at setting up a date, so it’s surpassed my expectations already,” You give him a tight-lipped smile before sitting on the blanket. He attempts to ignore the way your dress hikes up slightly to expose your thigh. The sundress that you’re wearing seems to expose every detail of your body that he’s neglected to look at, but he snaps back into focus when he hears you clear your throat.

Once you both start eating, it’s clear how little you have in common with each other. Sure, he figured it’d be a little difficult to get to know you, but the lingering silence doesn’t exactly make him eager to strike up a conversation.

“How do you feel about all this?” You ask suddenly. It catches him so off guard that he chokes on the piece of fruit he was chewing.

He coughs, raising the attention of the nearby guards. You turn to them, giving a signal that he’s okay before turning around. “Damn, I didn’t think the question was that bad,” You laugh sadly.

“No, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it.” He waves off any suspicion.

He takes a deep breath. “I mean, I’m not thrilled. I know the economic aspect of this is the most important thing, but my parents are practically dying to marry me off,” He reaches for a bottle of wine, grabbing a nearby glass before pouring himself something to drink.

“So I’m not the first?” You ask.

“Absolutely not,” He snickers. This relationship would mark the 5th time his parents have tried to set him up with a fellow royal. He has managed to sabotage all previous attempts on account of pissing his parents off.

The girls they set him up with were nice enough, but he had no chemistry with any of them. He felt like sparing them from a relationship full of misery by ruining it before it even started.

“So your parents figured you wouldn’t want to escape a marriage instead of just dating?” You attempt to clarify.

“Bingo,” He sips his wine before handing you the bottle.

“So, does that mean you’re gonna try to escape this?” You accept it and pour yourself a fuller glass, immediately taking a sip after asking the question.

“I think you’d be pretty fucked if I tried to do that. I’m not that much of an asshole,” He shakes his head and laughs it off. Since being hated by his parents was bad enough, Soonyoung didn’t want to become the center of an emerging geopolitical crisis.

It would fuck everyone over, especially you. He could at least admit to himself that you didn’t deserve that.

“That’s nice, I guess,” You smile halfheartedly at him.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He speaks in an unusually flat tone before turning away to face the view of sprawling hills and seemingly endless mountaintops. The sight of the burgeoning nature surrounding the houses below him brought a sense of peace.

Before you asked, he hadn't given the entire arranged marriage process much thought. Sure, he knew that you’d be getting married relatively soon, but he had no idea how to present himself as a good partner. He didn’t exactly know how to move forward knowing that everyone expected him to fail.

“You really are a dickhead,” You mumble.

“You’re not exactly sweet as pie either. Everyone loves you, but you’re fucking miserable to be around.” He responds in a piercing tone.

“Well, if you get to be a cunt, then so should I. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of this,” You shoot back.

You were definitely worse off as an only child. Sure, he was the black sheep of the family, but he could get away with plenty of things as the youngest. His siblings were off impressing the world by ruling the country, getting PhDs, having a shit ton of kids, and generally being upstanding citizens.

However, it didn’t make sense for him to try that hard.

“Your country’s finances won’t go to shit, isn’t that enough?”

His question seems to bring out another layer of frustration for you. “No, I want a husband who gives two shits about me past my bra size, but apparently that’s wishful thinking,” You angrily bite into a strawberry and turn away from him.

“Look, we don’t have to do anything except pretend that we’re in love. So, let’s not do anything past that. Alright?” He proposes. Your face is unreadable, but the way you chew on the inside of your lip shows that he’d never get to know what’s eating away at you.

“Alright,” Your body language seems to retreat completely.

The mood of the date is different after that, and his request seems to render you both silent as you eat the rest of the food without interacting. The view of the countryside makes him wish that he didn’t have to deal with any of this, just live in a tiny house where no one had to remind him about his impending marriage.

—

The entire day leading up to the Youth Summit Ball left you feeling incredibly rattled.

You know the staff is perfectly capable of executing your vision for the ball as they've done year after year. It was one of your signature events as a royal, and its annual presence in Maritria brought much-needed attention to the country with the presence of young royals and its ever-popular red carpet.

Tonight, however, would be the first time Soonyoung is escorting you as a “longtime” boyfriend in public. You’ve been seen together in public, yes, but this is a public declaration that you are hypothetically in love with him. As a co-chair of the event, nothing could go wrong since many of your peers would be attending with their families.

Nothing could go wrong, thus you needed him to know the extent of your anxiety.

You heard a knock on the door, and you’re accepting them inside without a second thought.

“You wanted to see me?” He asks as he steps inside the dressing room.

You’re thrown by how handsome he looks. You argued with each other over text about what he should wear, he insisted that it didn’t matter. Yet, your color palettes were not to be betrayed. You internally thank yourself for persisting with a navy suit. It contrasted well with his platinum-blonde hair that seemed to attract as many eyes as possible while you were out in public together.

“Yes, I did. You need to behave tonight, I’m not risking anything because you want to get your dick wet,” You scoff.

“Trust me, I already got this little lecture from your mother. I’ll be fine.” He smirks at you, not doing much to quiet the anxiety that was starting to build in your stomach.

“Well, your girlfriend is telling you herself that I’m serious about this,” Your hands automatically move up to his shoulders, smoothing out the nonexistent creases on his jacket. It was still weird to call yourself his girlfriend, the word felt too stiff coming from your mouth.

“And I’m reluctantly listening,” He moves his hand to your bare shoulder, brushing something off with a few light sweeps. You opted to wear a black form fitting gown, the design was relatively simple but it was still eye-catching. You thought you noticed Soonyoung taking glances at you.

“Do you remember everything I told you about tonight?” You remind him.

“Why wouldn’t I remember, Y/N?” He gives you that “are you serious” kind of look and you’re starting to buckle under the pressure.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re nervous or something,” You turn away from him, peering into the mirror to check if there are any flaws with your makeup.

“I don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Are you nervous?” You see him approaching, but you put your focus immediately back on your face.

“What? No, stop, I’m fine,” You purse your lips to check your lipstick. He mimics you, pushing his lips out like a duck and it startles you.

“Those cheeks of yours are telling me otherwise,” He rubs a finger on your cheek and you slap it away almost immediately.

“Stop, Soonyoung, I’m serious. Let’s just get through the night.” You shoot him a warning look and he puts his hands up defensively.

“Okay, no funny business. I promise,” He smiles. It’s not enough to convince you, but your mind is too focused on creating a good outcome for the night that it’s fruitless trying to argue with him any further.

“Ready for a good time?” He offers his hand out to you, and you reluctantly accept it.

“It sounds bad when you say it.”

—

“You know, she said we should kiss just once to see what it’s like,” His voice was slightly slurred as if the alcohol was slowly taking possession of his words.

“You’re just tipsy,” You throw your purse across the living room and fumble to lock the door shut.

“No, you are, I saw you sneak two shots out of the kitchen,” He points with a shocked smile, “plus a few glasses of chardonnay. You’re not fooling me, princess.”

He was probably right, but that didn’t make it any better. “God forbid that I wanna drink at my own event. Why are you at my place right now?” You’re irritated at his presence almost constantly.

“You wanted me to do everything for you, remember? So you could just hop into bed with no worries,” He waves his arm into the air.

The event went well, accounting for your drunkenness and Soonyoung’s unpredictable nature.

“What are you waiting for then? Take my shoes off,” You flail your arms helplessly, your body is slowly slumping forward but Soonyoung catches you before you stumble.

“Okay, let's sit down, miss bossy. You’re ordering me around when I was a perfect boyfriend tonight,” He guides you to your couch, slowly easing you down onto the seat when you let out an audible sigh of relief.

“You were an average boyfriend who didn’t look stupid in front of paparazzi. Don’t feel too proud of yourself.” Your tolerance for his shenanigans was lower than usual now that you were drunk, and you didn’t feel bad about fighting back at him.

“All of this is extra credit,” He tries to reason himself out of the bare minimum.

“Taking care of me is not extra credit, it’s the standard. You’re supposed to be taking care of me for the rest of my life, not just right now. Idiot,” You roll your eyes and close them briefly before his voice forces you awake again.

“You’re so mean to me, your poor boyfriend is still learning what you like,” He finally takes off your heels and you let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Better?” He asks with a smile. You know that he wants to laugh at you so badly, but you’re too far gone to care.

“Much better,” You close your eyes for a moment before snapping again. “Take off my jewelry.”

He removes your earrings quite easily, but you still feel a bit flustered when he leans toward your ear to focus on undoing the clasps of your necklace.

He settles his face near your neck to fully remove your diamond necklace, he cradles it in his hand and you think you might go slightly insane. He places it on the coffee table gently and looks back at you with a smirk.

“What’s going on?” You pick up on his expression.

“Nothing, I’m gonna do your hair.” He turns your body so your back is facing him now. He’s sort of just feeling around for bobby pins, placing them down on the coffee table whenever he pulls another out. Once he takes out the decorative pins near the top of your head, your hair finally feels free.

“Soonyoung?” You ask suddenly.

“Hmm?” He’s organizing all the hairpins but takes a moment to look up at you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Your voice is a bit timid, nervous about how he might react. You would’ve contained yourself in any other circumstance, but now you just needed to head that you were worth complimenting.

“Where’s all this coming from, you’re just fishing for compliments now,” He shakes his head with a smile on his face.

“No, I’m not. It’s just-,” Your thoughts trail off, but Soonyoung catches your attention again with a gentle hand on your thigh. You don’t jump to move it away.

“Everybody was looking at us, but some people looked at us like I wasn’t meant to be with you. Is that true? Am I not pretty enough to be with you?” You feel increasingly insecure the more you elaborate. You didn’t think you’d feel this upset about it, but it meant your work was failing. You weren’t a believable couple and it was obvious to you now.

“Y/N, don’t say that. You’re beautiful,” His voice is noticeably softer.

“Not beautiful enough to sleep with. You wouldn’t sleep with me,” You rub your eyes with your hands and Soonyoung removes them from your face, laughing at the traces of makeup on the sides of your fingers. It seems like he still caught what you said though when he stops laughing.

“And that’s not the point. You’re just saying shit now, all of the guys in there would be lucky to even kiss you,” He insists. He stands up suddenly and walks toward your room. You assume he gets up to find makeup wipes, but you sit with his statement in the meantime.

You contemplate if you’d even want to kiss any of the royals who came to the party. You knew your standards were high and wondered if that would chase them off before they even had a chance to kiss you. He comes back and immediately wipes across your face the moment he sits down. His approach is slightly rough, but you couldn’t exactly get mad at him. He was just doing what you asked of him.

He’s analyzing if he got all of the makeup off when you speak up.

“But you’re not lucky?” You remark quietly.

That makes him clear his throat. You can even spot a hint of blush across his cheeks. It appears that you’ve riled him up slightly.

“I am lucky,” He lowers his head to rub the back of his neck with his hand, “You give me a run for my money.”

“Show me how lucky you are.” You continue to tempt him to see how he’ll react.

“I thought you wanted me to behave tonight?” He’s almost willing to act, but he still waits for your approval.

“I do, but she said we should kiss for practice,” You swallow lightly in anticipation. He rests his forehead against yours and you can hear his breath hitch in his throat.

You’ve been good, you’ve been so good all of your life. You don’t think you’ve done anything worth batting an eye at for your entire adolescence and young adulthood, but it was exhausting.

It was exhausting to be good, the voice of reason, the example of a perfect daughter to your country.

You weren’t in love with him, absolutely not.

Yet, the curiosity about what his lips tasted like made you want to be rebellious.

“I didn’t think you heard me.” He chuckled softly.

“I did,” You nodded your head against his. Soonyoung didn’t ask for permission to be bad, he just did it. That’s what runs through your brain when your lips meet his. Neither of you move for a moment and you’re afraid that you messed up.

That is until you feel Soonyoung’s hand cradling the back of your neck. He’s tilting into the kiss and you know he’s comfortable by the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

He tastes like tequila mostly, but there’s a hint of sweetness that you suspect comes from the dessert table at the party.

It feels so much better than you expected, now you know why girls couldn’t get enough of him. Even if it is just practice, he still took it far more seriously than you expected.

You haven’t had many kisses that were worth remembering, but this was something spectacular.

You know he’s kissed people far more times than you have, but there’s still a hesitant energy there that you can’t describe.

Did you make him nervous?

He pulls away first and it surprises you. He takes a deep breath and looks at you with tired eyes.

“Just a practice kiss, right?” He whispers.

“Just practice.” You affirm, pulling your head back. You’re not sure why it felt so disappointing to not have another kiss. You were sobering up which made the realization even worse.

“I’ll leave now before you kick me out.” He stands up from the couch and you don’t follow him. He makes it to the door and turns around.

“Don’t stay up all night reading thinking you can fight a hangover, go to bed.” He points at you with a teasing finger.

“Don’t lecture me, Kwon Soonyoung.” You stand up and walk toward your bedroom, ignoring whatever expression is on his face. You don’t look back until you hear the front door shut.

He didn’t say goodbye and that was probably for the best. You didn’t need any other memory from this part of the night to linger in your brain.

You rush back to the living room to lock the door again and sulk back to your bedroom. You eye the novel on your bedside table, you left it there earlier in the day to pick up whether you ended up drunk from the party or not.

Damn, he was good.

—

There were now multiple days, even weeks, between your shared schedules with him, and the more time that went by after the kiss only made you want to see him again.

Of course, he was friendly to you in public, and you were both able to handle public events with ease, but

the timing left you with many questions, and one stuck out in particular.

Why was he nervous to kiss you?

Today, he requested a private schedule for the two of you before he left Maritria early next week. There was a sneaking suspicion that it was the proposal since there wouldn’t be another reason for you to be alone.

He never wants to be left alone with you, it’s all about putting on an act for others that makes it so thrilling for him.

That’s what you try to tell yourself, at least.

“You’re here,” He eyes you carefully as you approach the entrance of the private garden. He’s surrounded by endless blooms, it’s almost suffocating how romantic it’s supposed to feel.

“I’m here because you want me here,” You offer quietly.

“Right, well I don’t want to waste any time. I’m sure my princess has lots of work to do today.”

On any other day, he’d be right, but the underlying suspicion of his true intentions made you want to linger.

He grabs your hand before you have another second to contemplate your feelings.

“I know that I’m not the person you wanted this to be from, but that’s how things have turned out. We both can’t get what we want, but I want to make this a good memory for us regardless of the situation.”

He gets down on one knee before asking. “So, Y/N, will you marry me?”

His hands held a small black velvet box and he quickly opened it to reveal a stunning oval shaped diamond ring. There are definitely more carats than you've ever seen on an engagement ring, and the gold band it sits upon feels equally regal.

It almost makes you sick from how ornate and gaudy it is, but it’s yours.

“You know this is the part where you say yes,” He clears his throat.

“Give me a second,” You mumble. You can’t see his glance, instead choosing to look at the ring. Everything else felt like a game before, but this was real.

He is proposing to you, offering a ring to you to signify a love that wasn’t actually real. That kind of sappy affectionate love you dreamed of would never come to fruition, possibly for the rest of your life.

It’s a realization that is entirely too bleak for the moment.

You’re meant to be happy, but if your parents were here they’d pick apart how long it took you to respond.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” You force a smile onto your face to appease him. It doesn’t seem like he notices the pained expression within it, only offering a content sigh.

“Great.” He rises to his feet to place the ring on the appropriate finger. It feels like it’s all over now, you can imagine the rest of your future laid ahead of you on a set path.

The thought of taking constant publicity trips as a couple, having future heirs to the throne, and the idea of bringing him into Maritria’s lineage makes you wonder if you did everything you could to save yourself.

There is no out, just you, him, and the impenetrable distance between you both.

You wonder how a couple might build a life with an unstable foundation.

“Should we kiss?” His question brings you back to your senses.

“What?”

“For the camera, we should kiss.” He points to a photographer making themselves known from a nearby bush.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod.

This is your duty, right?

You pull him close and kiss him, trying to ignite the small spark you felt when he was at your apartment.

Yet, the feeling doesn’t come and you pull away from him gently after a few moments.

“We just need some photos for social media and then you’re free to go.” The photographer reassures you with a kind tone.

You snap into professional mode in order to speed up the process. Your hand rests on his chest, angling it slightly to show off the ring. You force a smile, trying to indulge in the fantasy of it all. Once he gets a few shots of that pose, you turn back to look into Soonyoung’s eyes.

He was unfortunately quite handsome, it’s a shame that nothing else about him could make you happy.

“What are you thinking about?” His questioning pulls you out of your head once again, but you’re not sure what to tell him.

Being honest with him means making a sweet moment uncomfortable, and lying to him means letting your pain continue to simmer.

You go for the latter, to spare everyone a difficult moment. “Nothing. The ring is beautiful,” You shift the conversation with a quiet tone in order to deflect the topic off of you. He smiles widely, his face tells you that he didn’t expect you to like it one bit.

“I let my team take the reins with it since I don’t know you that well.” He responds so earnestly, and you’re not sure if he understands how hurtful that sounds.

You take it in stride though. “Well, it’s beautiful.”

He only nods and takes a moment to adjust his suit jacket.

You watch him brush over the fabric with his hands, wondering how in the world you ended up here. Even if things were different, fate would probably still bring you into Soonyoung’s orbit in another way.

Regardless, it’s enough to make you even more upset. Once the photographer is satisfied with the variety of shots, you’re about to leave when you feel Soonyoung’s hand touch your shoulder.

“Hey.” He turns your body to face him with his hand. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand in front of him without crying.

“We’re still on for this weekend, right?”

You can’t be bothered to remember what he means, but it’s best just to agree. It’s not like you had much of a choice.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.” You nod at him before leaving. The moment you turn your back, you can’t hold back the stray tears falling onto your cheeks. You can only hope that he can’t hear your sniffling.

—

Now that the proposal news was officially out, your life had an even bigger microscope on it than usual. You’re used to being judged on a public scale, however, there were millions of people who were obsessed with Soonyoung that now wanted to know every single piece of information about his new fiancée.

Your Instagram posts and tweets had an influx of new activity that you could barely keep up with, and the new attention was starting to work into every corner of your life, even the time you spent with Soonyoung.

“Can you tell your fans to stop making video edits of me?” You stuff your phone into your jacket pocket in slight annoyance. You were genuinely trying to enjoy the private dates you had with Soonyoung, even if they were heavily guarded by staff. It was only right that you treated these outings as the dates they were, opportunities to get to know him better in order to connect with him that would hopefully prevent any issues further down the line.

Today, the location of the date was your choice and the staff had elected to leave you alone in light of the proposal news. Thus, you decide to take Soonyoung to a small beach on the outskirts of Maritria’s capital city. You’ve spent many days throughout your teenage years in your favorite spot, a cove in a hidden part of the beach. You figured that it’d be smart to let him in on a few things that you enjoyed, namely one of your most treasured spots in the country.

“That means they like you, and since when are you afraid of attention?” His interest is now piqued as he places his head in his hand to face you.

“Since always, I’m not exactly a Kwon Soonyoung-level attention whore,” You scoff.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” He speaks in an exaggerated sad tone, accompanied by his pretending to cry. He turns his head to face you, sunglasses attempting to hide the goofiness peeking through.

“Still, I mean this is all a lot. I’m not exactly important enough to warrant 700,000 new followers.” You attempt to redirect the conversation.

As soon as the remark leaves your mouth, Soonyoung takes his sunglasses off. He looks at you with a confused glance, as if your self-deprecation was a personal attack on him.

“What are you talking about? You’re a princess and a genuinely nice one at that. That’s pretty hard to come by these days,” He compliments you. It pulls at your heartstrings very slightly, enough to absentmindedly check for a blush on your cheeks before snapping out of it.

“You wouldn’t know, you don’t see anything past the title before you sleep with these girls,” You attempt to defuse the response again, but he’s prepared.

“First of all, those days are behind me. I’m a proper engaged man now,” His thumb grazes your engagement ring and it sends a chill down your spine.

“And second, that statement is funny coming from someone who’s marrying me for financial stability,” He pokes your shoulder and you move to cover it.

“Correction, my country’s financial stability. You’ll have to get used to living here once we’re married,” You clarify.

“Who said we’re living in Maritria?” He argues instantly. You let out a sigh and try to understand the perspective he’s going to bring up.

“Soonyoung, wouldn’t it be smart to show how much the country’s condition would improve with you here?”

“Yes, but imagine being in Arinorin. The optics of giving you away to the country that saved yours seem pretty positive to me.” He suggests. While idealistic, the perspective is shortsighted. He didn’t necessarily have a shining future back in his home country considering his reputation and lack of communication with his parents.

“Even though you’ll never be king?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so mean, but it’s true.

He was not the country’s future king, not unless there were dire circumstances that would force him into the position.

He scoffs. “Way to rub it in.” He looks into the distance, not acknowledging your glance anymore.

“I’m just saying. At least here, you’ll have the chance to have more of the public’s attention. There’s nothing to fight over, it’s just me,” You add sympathetically.

There’s a lingering silence that you don’t want to fill for the moment. You can tell he’s mulling over your words by the way he’s looking down at his hands, playing with his sunglasses idly.

“You know, you don’t have to stay there. Not to be that person, but if the idea of staying makes you feel worse, then what’s the point?” You soften your tone in an attempt to bring him back.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” He shakes his head resolutely. You feel your window of opportunity to try and comfort him closing rapidly.

“Ok, you’re right, but I’ve kept up with the news. I know a bit about how my future in-laws have treated you. You’ll be okay here,” You place a hand on his shoulder.

“I think they’ve wanted me to leave for a while, honestly. I’d go somewhere where they don’t have to think about me anymore.” He scratches the back of his neck before focusing on a small tidepool that sat directly below the both of you.

His statement is enough to now squeeze his shoulder, gently rubbing it to show your support.

“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly.

“It’s not your fault. I don’t think being a problem child fits me very well anymore.”

“You can reinvent yourself here if that sounds alright with you?” You offer and he laughs quietly.

He smirks. “I’ll think about it,” His slightly hopeful tone makes you feel at ease.

Any true affection toward him still feels too foreign, but verbal reassurance is a step you’re willing to take if it means your shared future is relatively peaceful.

—

The trips back and forth to each other’s countries were becoming a blur of wedding planning, being present at each other’s public engagements, and trying to get to know each other. It was becoming such a tedious process that any opportunity to rest was taken without hesitation.

The big plan for the current trip to Arinorin was to have a joint dinner with both of your immediate families.

You waited endlessly, but Soonyoung never showed up for dinner. It was embarrassing trying to subtly figure out where he was by going to the bathroom and frantically texting him. When that didn’t work, calls went unanswered until you were forced to give up and return to the table in defeat. He wasn’t answering and you were left to deal with two confused families on your own, attempting to answer questions that you had no answers to. Dinner eventually proceeded with an unyielding amount of attention on you, but thankfully, the rest of his family seemed to accept you.

Yet, it was ultimately embarrassing to attempt to cover his tracks and defend his actions throughout the night.

Thus, your post-dinner plans were to relax in your room and attempt to forget how wild the night had been. A knock on the door interrupted those plans almost immediately.

You open the door to see one of the guards that have been assigned to you since the arranged marriage proceedings had begun.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I’ve just received word of a disturbance with the prince downstairs that needs your attention.” His tone was especially solemn, so you didn’t want to leave him waiting for long.

“Alright, I’ll be ready in a minute.” You nod at him and thank your lucky stars that you’ve already changed into more comfortable clothing.

With his assistance, you were soon traveling through the endless halls of the castle to find your fiancé. It wasn’t long before he came into view, sitting on a bench with his legs tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around the front with his hands clasped tight. He was clearly drunk, sighing to himself before looking up.

“Y/N! Hi!” He exclaims, waving at you wildly.

“Fucking hell,” You exhale under your breath. You’re extremely grateful that he wasn’t out wandering the streets, clearly under careful watch by his guards.

“Can you give us a moment?” You look around at the surrounding guards. They nod curtly and dismiss themselves, retreating to a nearby room where they could still intervene quickly if needed.

You turn your attention back to him once the door closes. “Where were you?”

“I was out with Seungkwannie and, um, Seokmin. It was so much fun,” He laughed brightly, eyes almost disappearing from his smile.

“We were supposed to have dinner with our families. Remember?” You hold onto your curt tone.

He shakes his head immediately. “They didn’t wanna see me, they don’t care about me.”

You were starting to lose your patience. While you understood his hesitation to face his family, it wasn’t an excuse to leave you to navigate so many different dynamics on your own. This was supposed to show your families all of the efforts that had been made thus far, and there were plenty of efforts that were beginning to show naturally.

He had become more affectionate in public, it was less uncomfortable to smile at him and speak with each other kindly. It wasn’t real, obviously not, but unsuspecting eyes wouldn’t have known any better.

You were almost visibly in love.

“How about how I feel, Soonyoung? I had to deal with everyone alone, deal with everything by myself. That was so hard for me, but you just ignored it and got drunk.” Your voice was tight, barely allowing yourself to feel anything besides anger.

“I’m sorry,” He sighs before running through his hair. He’s affected by it, as his posture starts to wilt like a dying plant.

“You should be. That hurt my feelings a lot,” You felt the intended venom of your words dissipate on your tongue until nothing was left.

What was the point in yelling when he wouldn’t remember any of it anyways?

Honestly, you were disappointed in him. You had earnestly tried to connect with him, and it finally felt like he was trying to do the same thing. Yet, he let you down. You didn’t ask for much of him and adjusted your expectations for him at every step of the way, but he couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t be better for you.

“Was being selfish,” His pout seems to get deeper somehow.

“Yeah, you were,” You whisper. You finally take a seat next to him on the bench, taking a deep breath. The silence between the two of you almost felt labored, as if the air held all of the emotions you were both feeling at once.

You shouldn’t be babysitting your fiancé like this, that much was true. If he couldn’t even attend a family dinner, what did that mean for the marriage?

“You don’t have to worry about the wedding. I’ll take care of everything,” You mutter quietly.

“What?” He sits up in surprise.

“I can’t trust you, Soonyoung. You don’t care about this and you clearly don’t care about me, so why would I let you plan any part of this?”

“I can try, just let me try,” He pleads quietly. You can feel the desperation in his tone, but you can’t budge.

“I’ve let you try and this is what happens. I don’t know if this is how you picture our marriage, but if this is it then consider us strangers. I can’t do this, not like this.” You can’t look at him as you stand up.

Your body goes into autopilot as you knock on the door where the guards are stationed, letting them out so you can both separate for the night. You gently request for him to be taken home before starting the journey back to your room, wiping away tears that welled up in your eyes without a second thought.

You hear him calling your name, but what point is there in turning around? You didn’t have the energy for drunk pleas and broken promises anymore.

If you couldn’t stop everything and everyone from falling apart, you could at least try to protect yourself from the wreckage.

—

For the first time, Soonyoung hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

It never felt good to be ignored by anyone, but getting ignored by you? It had to be a new kind of pain.

Despite his unbothered facade, he didn’t mind your company at all. He quite enjoyed your little quirks, small things that other people probably wouldn’t notice.

In the chaos of your intertwined schedules, there were moments where he’d just look at you to take in your features for himself, and not anyone else.

He loved seeing how peaceful you looked while you slept during flights or the way your cheeks lifted when you smiled. Since he couldn’t have you to himself often, he could hold solace in the smaller moments.

Admittedly, he had been in love with you for a while now, and he could pinpoint the exact moment when he realized it.

He mentioned to you offhandedly that he’d lost a beloved stuffed tiger toy as a kid, but he’d accepted the loss and attempted to move on. He didn’t think you’d remember the anecdote, much less do anything about it.

Yet, you handed him a silver gift bag while on a flight with him.

When he unwrapped the tissue paper to the sight of the exact make of the tiger he had, his heart momentarily stilled in awe.

“I found the original manufacturer and they still make them. The certain model you had is a collector’s item now, so it took a little while to find but it wasn’t impossible.” You explained everything calmly, your hand propped your head up on the armrest of your seat. You lazily smiled at him as he admired it in his hands.

“This is very kind of you, thank you,” He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

His parents hadn’t thought of trying to replace it for him after all these years, and he surely didn’t expect it from you. The gesture is just so romantic, even if you just wanted to write it off as simply a nice thing to do.

He didn’t cry until he was alone after the day’s activities were finished, realizing just how important it was to him. You were so nice, much nicer than he deserved from his future wife given his standoffish behavior.

There was no reason why he couldn’t confess his true feelings to you at this point. The wedding was fast approaching, sooner than he’d like to admit.

Details about the ceremony were quickly ironed out between your shared staff before he could think twice about asking, and you held to your word that he wasn’t allowed to get involved in wedding planning.

He didn’t remember much from the night you found him drunk, but it was clear that wedding planning was off-limits and you were extremely wary of being alone with him. Thus, he had to make his apology meaningful, and he couldn’t wait until after the wedding. He was determined to mend the relationship before you walked down the aisle.

He started by sending you various bouquets, all carefully chosen by him.

That was a kind gesture, right?

He thought so until he saw you throwing one of the bouquets into a dumpster from afar.

All of his apologetic texts to you were swiftly ignored as well, forcing him to switch gears completely. It was clear that you were subtly hinting at an in-person apology, which was daunting but not impossible for him to do.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the night of the Youth Summit Ball, a major oversight on his part. Yet, he figured there was no better time than the present to start taking things more seriously.

He held the bouquet of white and red carnations tightly in his hand, fingers playing gently with the paper wrapping as he sat in his car.

He was optimistic that the rain would hold out until he was hopefully let into your apartment. Yet, he ignored the raindrops periodically hitting his raincoat as he walked up the stairs to your brownstone.

The moment he knocked on the door, it was as if the universe decided to fuck him over. The occasional raindrops turned into a full downpour, and he scrambled to figure out what to do with himself. There wasn’t any awning to hide under, so he attempted to conceal the flowers from the rain, unzipping his jacket enough to sit the damp bouquet on his chest before zipping it up again.

It felt like a lifetime before you opened the door, and the sight of you rendered him speechless.

This was the first time in so long that he was facing his fear of resolving the neverending conflicts in his life.

“Hi.” He smiles despite your unreadable expression.

“Hi,” You were confused, rightfully so. After passive-aggressively sending indirect apologies, he decided to skip everything else and just show up.

“Are you busy?”

“No, but I don’t think I have a choice,” You move to the side so that he can enter your apartment. He takes the cue and makes himself comfortable in the living room.

“These are for you.” He hands the flowers to you, and the hesitancy is clear on your face.

“You aren’t giving up on the flowers, are you?” You ask with a judgmental tone. He doesn’t feel completely deterred when you place them on the dining table instead of throwing them out.

“Well, these are your favorite.”

“This doesn’t bail you out, you know.” You give him a knowing look.

He sighs, steadying his breath before speaking. “I know, and you deserve an apology for everything.” When he notices that you're focusing intently on his words, he feels confident about continuing.

“I know that I’ve made you feel isolated, and I’m truly sorry for that. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this, and I want to make this marriage work. You deserve to marry someone who’s willing to admit their mistakes and grow with you. I’m ready to be that person if you want me.” By the time he finishes, he knows that he was completely honest with you. He’s wanted to be upfront with you for so long, but it wouldn’t have been worth it if he didn’t express himself properly.

You let out a contemplative sigh. He could tell that you didn’t want to reject him, it’s as if your face was processing his statement just as swiftly as your brain.

“As much as I appreciate this, I don’t want to be in a loveless marriage.” You said.

He swallows lightly, but he’s still understanding of your perspective. He knew that he had to lay everything out for you before it was too late.

“Who said it was loveless?” He says.

“What?”

The revelation seems to catch you off guard, but it's not surprising to him. Soonyoung is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and this kind of confession feels completely out of his emotional range.

“I love you, and I should've told you sooner. I regret not proving that you could trust me, and you have every right to not have any faith in me.” He walks toward you, internally pleading that the lack of distance will help you change your mind.

“I do have the right,” You mutter under your breath with a chuckle. He lifts your chin slightly with his finger, forcing your eyes to meet his again.

“I will prove to you every day for the rest of my life that I love you.” His eyes are completely sincere, showing that he’s willing to provide the romance that you’ve been grasping for. He can tell that you can’t let him in this easily, he has to earn you completely.

“Every day?” You question him.

“Every single day,” He reiterates. He means it too, his mind was already thinking of dozens of ways that he could start making it up to you.

“That’s pretty tempting, honestly.” You tilt your head in curiosity.

“Anything holding you back?”

“I don’t think so. You just can’t keep coming into my apartment soaking wet anymore,” You scrunch your nose at his appearance and gently tousle his hair, earning a giggle from him.

“That wasn’t planned. It was pretty romantic though, right?” He can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face as he asks.

“A little bit. I forgive you, by the way,” You admit.

He exhales and runs a hand through his hair with shaky confidence. He couldn’t be certain of your decision, so the relief he feels at your words is palpable.

“Does that mean I get to see all the spreadsheets about the wedding now?” He knew he was testing his luck by asking, especially because the process had been under lock and key even before restricting his access to wedding-related documents.

“Yeah, it’ll take some stress off my back. It’s giving me headaches just thinking about everything coming together,” You rub your forehead and close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him.

“You’ve been stressed like this and you haven’t told me?” He frowns.

“I was mad at you, so all my other feelings just kept building up. I’m sorry,” You shake your head, immediately covering your face with your hands. He pries them off just as quickly, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“It’s okay, love. I am more than willing to help you, I promise,” He nods eagerly with a grin.

“Okay. I like that name, you know,” You finally crack a smile and his own smile widens.

“Figured you would.” He’s leaned closer to your face, but there’s enough space to move away in case you reject him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks gently.

“Please,” You whisper.

It’s all he needs to complete the distance between your lips and the feeling of you is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. He’s so lucky at this moment, feeling your hands push his head deeper into the kiss. He was too cautious last time, but now he’ll never take another kiss of yours for granted, not when it feels this good.

He would do anything to make sure you felt loved and cared for, no matter how long it took to earn your full trust.

—

“I just need a moment alone, if that’s alright?” The question comes out a bit shakier than you imagined, but you can’t seem to quiet your nerves. Your wedding day has already taken you on an emotional rollercoaster despite not going down the aisle yet.

As you view yourself in the gown that you meticulously picked out along with the detailed hair and makeup that took hours to complete, nothing looks out of place.

Yet, your heart feels unanchored.

Your relationship with Soonyoung was getting better every day, but it seems like it was all going a little too well. Even though your relationship was transforming from a state of emergency into a promising romance, it was all catching up to you at the moment. Your mutual efforts to improve your relationship had been fruitful, giving you both the confidence to get married without feeling insecure.

You wouldn’t regret it, right? You needed to be certain that you wouldn’t.

“Of course, Princess.” Your head staff member agrees without question before exiting the room along with a few team members who were assisting you for the past few hours.

Your brain can only think of him. The tradition of spending the night before the wedding apart from each other felt more like torture than anything else, as you’ve come to appreciate his comforting presence next to you. In the last few weeks leading up to the wedding, he’s made such a genuine effort to intertwine your lives together that spending time apart felt futile.

A knock on the door breaks you out of your trance. Before you can ask who’s there, Soonyoung’s voice fills the silence.

“Is it a bad time?” His voice makes your heart flutter before you can even look at him.

“You can’t see me before the wedding, it’s bad luck,” You attempt to fight the smile on your face but you don’t allow yourself to look at him.

“Even if my bride has cold feet?” He presses on, his footsteps quietly approaching you.

You turn to reveal yourself to him and his face lights up.

“They’re not cold, they’re lukewarm,” You smile coyly at him. He grabs your hands and scans your body with wondrous eyes, his gaze seeming to land on every detail of the dress before meeting your eyes again.

“You look so,” His voice trails off. You’re sure that you can read his mind, he’s practically grinning from ear to ear. It makes you feel a bit shy, you can feel your cheeks heat up from his complimentary words.

“You’re really inflating my ego here,” You shake your head gently, but the feeling of his hand grazing your cheek pulls your gaze to him. Despite your best efforts, it’s still hard to fight the inner voice that tells you that he doesn’t mean it, that he’s only saying it because it’s something you want to hear.

Yet, his responses are just unflinchingly earnest that it makes you wonder why you ever felt that way in the first place.

“You just look so stunning,” His voice begins to shake before he clears his throat, “I just can’t believe that you’re mine.”

You were certain that you’d never seen that much sincerity in his eyes up until now, but it started to quiet the lingering fears that still sat in the pit of your stomach. He was absolutely smitten with you, to the point where his smile didn’t go away while you were talking to him.

“You can’t cry yet, you have to save it for the cameras.” You chuckle in an effort to push away his tears, but his eyes were still glossy.

“I can’t help it. You’ve worked really hard on all of this and it’s coming together so well,” He sighs with content. Honestly, you needed to hear that it was all worth it, especially from him. Although he’d been offering reassurance more often than not, the sentiment felt different knowing that you were minutes away from getting married.

“I wanna kiss you so badly, but I can’t fuck up my makeup.” You pout. He instinctively places his hands on your shoulders, moving them up and down to make you feel grounded with his touch.

“We can kiss, you know. There are no rules to any of this.” He attempts to get you out of your tradition-focused mindset with a low tone. You do want to indulge him though, considering that this was the first time you'd been alone with him all morning.

“Just go below the mouth.” You nod and he smirks, immediately placing his lips on your jaw to see how you’d react. It pulls a soft moan from your throat, and your reaction encourages him to go down your neck, leaving kisses wherever his lips can find skin. You started to let go of the responsibilities lingering over your head and focus on your fiance’s tongue leaving open-mouth kisses on your cleavage.

He’s practically doing everything but undressing you and his eagerness makes it harder to pull away, but you have to.

“Babe,” You whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Later,” You have to hold onto your resolve or else you’ll give in, and you can’t let your first time be in a dressing room.

“Later?” His eyes perk up like an excited puppy. The implication of the consummation of your marriage feels daring, it will serve as the reward after dealing with the decadent fanfare of the day.

“Yes, later. I promise.” You nod and he somehow looks even happier than before he walked in. He focuses on your lips but leaves a kiss on your cheek instead.

“I’ll see you out there, okay?” He presses one last kiss to your palm before heading towards the door.

“Okay,” You wave him off and watch him disappear with a smile on your face.

It’s clear that you don’t have anything to worry about.

—

“You’re sure that you don’t wanna come in with me?” Soonyoung calls from the pool.

“Yeah,” You nod with a hand placed above your eyes, acting as a sun visor since you couldn’t find a hat to put on.

You were two days into your honeymoon, tucked away at a small island resort that mostly isolated you from the outside world.

The wedding had thankfully gone far better than you could have imagined. He stopped you multiple times throughout the reception to tell you how beautiful it was, how happy he was to be in the moment with you, and how well you planned it all. It was a day that felt sun-soaked, enveloped in a love that was starting to soften and lose the sharp edges that had restrained it before.

Despite all of the kind attention from family and friends throughout the day, it was evened out with the constant presence of staff and castle officials that made it all a bit overwhelming.

Thankfully, the honeymoon began the next day and you’d have to force all responsibilities out of your head for the next week.

“You’re thinking about something, probably too many things,” He assumes correctly.

You scoff and turn away for a moment before facing him again. “You can’t be this good at analyzing me, we’ve only been married for less than a week.”

He laughs before swimming closer to the edge of the pool to meet you. “That’s my job, angel.”

“But you’re right, I am thinking too much about you moving in and all the press stuff we have to do,” You’re rubbing at your temples just thinking about how much effort it’s all going to take.

“Hey, look at me.” He calls out softly. You reluctantly place your hands at your sides, trying to take in his words.

“You’ll have plenty of time to worry about this, but this is the only time you’ll be on your honeymoon. Hopefully,” He shows his teeth and it succeeds in making you laugh. He smiles back at you before continuing.

“So maybe we can swim together if you’d like?” He tries again, knowing you’ll say yes. You take one last sigh and nod.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” You take your coverup off to reveal a solid black bikini he hadn’t seen yet. You discard the coverup on a nearby chair before turning to face him.

He eyes you for a moment before you clear your throat. “Slow down, loverboy, we’re supposed to be swimming!”

“Just admiring how beautiful my wife is, that’s all,” He bites back a smile but ultimately lets it show. You walk down the pool stairs until you’re swimming next to him. He only stares at you for a second before pulling you in for a kiss.

You’re caught off guard, letting out a small squeak when his tongue slides into your mouth but you give in to the feeling soon enough. You let your fingers card through the back of his hair, pushing yourself further into the kiss. You feel his hands wander across your ass and you let out a moan.

“Just wanted me in here so you could fuck me?” You whisper, finally pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath.

“You caught me,” He whispers back and proceeds to kiss down your neck, not hesitating to leave marks that force moans out of your throat.

“For fuck’s sake,” You sigh. You didn’t need to have control right now, you didn’t want it when he was making you feel this good just by kissing you. You thank your lucky stars that the vacation house is somewhat isolated because you can’t pretend to hold back the noises you’re making.

He picks up on this and presses his erection against your thigh, causing you to hold your breath. “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” He asks quietly. Your train of thought can’t even start because he’s staring right at you, brushing his thumb against your lip.

“Chairs,” You mutter. He bites his lip and turns to look at the unoccupied beach chairs lined up near the sliding glass door that leads back into the house.

“Okay,” He nods. He leads you back to the pool stairs before taking your hand and helping you out of the water. You both don’t think about drying off before he sits you down onto the chair, pulling off your bikini bottom without a second thought. You watch him with spread legs, taking in the sight of his glistening chest and abs. He seemed just as eager as you, taking off his swim trunks in the blink of an eye. The sight of his cock makes your head spin, so you force yourself to make eye contact with him.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks earnestly. He must not know how hot he is because you’re rendered speechless. His freshly dyed black hair is slightly spiky, and it doesn’t help when he runs his hand through it. It all just goes to your clit, and you’re certain that the pressure will make you explode.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You force your mouth into a smile to replace the incredulous look on your face. He nods and settles into the space between your legs, quickly spreading hands across your thighs.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” His eyes are practically dripping with lust, but you want to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

“Yeah, maybe for the 100th time today, but you look even prettier,” Your compliment comes out a bit shy, but it still makes his eyes light up.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” He lets his thumb graze your clit and you whimper. He lingers there for a few more moments before dragging two fingers down your entrance. He ponders for a moment before pushing inside, and the new sensation makes you cry out. The angled position of the chair makes his movements feel even more powerful, and his fingers gliding against your tight walls already have you in shambles.

“It’s not possible because you’re the prettiest person in the world, and I get all your cute noises to myself, right?” His question makes the coil in your stomach harder to ignore.

“Yeah,” You moan. He leans in for a kiss, capturing your lips easily while thrusting his fingers even deeper. How does he know your body like this? Sure, you’ve made out a few times but he's never touched you like this before.

Maybe it’s the anticipation that’s causing him to show out like this, he’s trying to impress you because of how long you’ve had to wait for this. You let your arms drape behind his neck for a moment before clutching onto his back.

You hear him moan from the scratches you leave on the expanse of his back, you savor the noises as they start to blend in with your moans.

“Gonna cum,” You breathe into his ear. He can tell how tense you are around him, and your eyes are becoming frantic from the impending pleasure.

“Just relax baby, take a deep breath, and let go for me. I know you can do it,” His encouragement lets you cum immediately, arching your back off the chair with a soft grunt escaping your lips. Your orgasm washes over you all at once and his fingers only slow down a bit, allowing you to feel every single bit of pleasure that he could pull out of you.

You take a few deep breaths and focus on his eyes once again. You start to register his face again as he strokes your cheek. “Are you ok? Are you up for more?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think you’d get me like this so early, that’s all.” You cover your eyes with your hands for a moment before looking at him again. He has you so shy that you can barely look at him. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you haven’t cum like that in a very long time, but if he’s making you feel like this so early on into the marriage, you don’t think you’ll ever be disappointed.

“Well, that’s good. I just wanna take care of you,” He reassures you sweetly. His eyes are so full of love that it makes your heart pound, swallowing in anticipation.

He meant it when he said he’d take care of you, he had barely let you do anything for yourself since you arrived at the vacation house. It was so adorable that you didn’t have the heart to stop him. It was nice to let him live up to his promise of showing his love for you instead of constantly feeling distrustful of his actions.

Of course, there would eventually be moments where you’d disagree or argue with each other, but it wouldn’t be out of spite like before. You’re lost in thought until he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Where’d you go, pretty?” He whispers, his face now a few inches away from yours. It somehow makes you even more flustered than before.

“Just thinking about how much I love you,” You admit with a smile. His eyes widen at the confession and you burst into a fit of giggles.

“You love me?” He asks in surprise.

“I love you.” You state it confidently. You mean it too, and it feels so easy to express it to him. You knew you loved him since the wedding, he cried at the sight of you walking down the aisle and it helped you realize his sincerity. He seems to let the words settle into the air before giving you a response.

“I love you too. It feels good to say that,” He laughs at his own confession. With a mutual confession out in the open, the air somehow feels lighter.

“Can I show you how much I love you by fucking you properly?” He asks. You can only laugh and nod your head at how sweet it is.

“Not out here though. I need you in bed right now!” He exclaims, sweeping you up into a bridal style hold. You let out a scream before bursting into laughter, you can only let yourself get carried back into the house without protest.

----

“Fuck, right there, please,” You whimper, eyes screwed shut. The feeling of his cock stuffed inside you was indescribably good, it was nearly enough to make you cry. Once he got you on the bed, he wasted no time filling you up and easily pulled moans out of your throat.

He pressed your legs up to your chest, making sure that he was completely inside of you. You quickly learned that your husband had incredible stamina, and you were definitely gonna cum again sooner rather than later.

“You’re so good for me, my love. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of having you like this,” He whispers in your ear. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin brought something primal out of you, you just want to suck him inside of your walls even deeper. You were barely holding on, but he kept pushing you even closer to the edge.

He leaned down to leave marks in the crook of your neck, leaving a hand free to fondle your breast. It was as if he combined every possible move just to drive you insane and it was working.

“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” His voice is laced with something even deeper than lust, it almost felt demonic the way he asked you.

“Yes, please let me cum, please,” The words spilled out of your mouth, your voice was shaking along with your body. He was practically rocking you back and forth with the impact of his cock, hitting that particular spot deeper every time.

“Go on, then. Cum for daddy,” He grants you permission. The nickname makes you flood his cock, screaming again as your orgasm takes over you. He pulls out in time for you to squirt on his cock, leaving you even more surprised than before.

“Holy shit,” You whimper. He looks so pleased with himself, but also shocked that he was able to push you that far.

He lets you both recover for a few minutes, but you know he hasn’t cum yet. “I’m kinda close, baby, is it alright if I-?” He asks, but you don’t let him finish.

“Of course. I already miss your cock, to be honest,” You let yourself smile and his eyes are already blown wide by your response.

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“You made me like this,” You hit his arm playfully. He slides his cock into you again slowly and he watches your mouth fall open slightly at the sensation.

“I did,” He smirks at you, relishing the sight of how fucked out you look just from him staying still.

He picks up the pace, trying to focus on getting himself there. It didn’t seem like it’d take much just from how intensely he looked at you.

“Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Should I get you pregnant like this?” His questions felt sinful in your ears, but you were too gone to care. You felt pressure building just from that, and the thought of him breeding you felt exciting.

“Yes, please, I want it,” You whine. He felt so deep that you could feel it from your head to your toes. Every single part of you felt overwhelmed by his cock and his relentless pace.

“Good girl, daddy wants to fuck you like this all the time,” He moves to kiss you sloppily, but it still feels heavenly to have him in your mouth. It wasn’t much longer before you felt his body tense beneath you.

“Are you close?” You ask breathily.

“Yeah,” He grunts. He grabs your hips and fucks into you even harder than you remember, the pain radiating from your thighs forces a tear out of your eye but you know it’s helping. He doesn’t warn you before he cums, and the sudden warmth inside of you makes you moan louder than you expect. He finally falls beside you and lets you both recover for a few minutes in silence. You could easily fall asleep like this, both of you laying haphazardly under the covers while his breathing steadies your own.

“Y/N?” He calls your name and it startles you. You struggle to keep your eyes open at the sound of his voice.

“Oh no, I scared you,” His voice is much quieter than before, lulling you back into a state of calmness.

“No, I’m okay, I promise,” You turn to face him, rubbing your eyes gently.

“Ok good. We’ve gotta clean up now, alright?” He softens the blow of the question by kissing your forehead. It still feels foreign to let him take care of you, but when you see how gentle he is, you don’t feel the urge to take control.

It’s enough to watch him go through your suitcase, observing how his eyebrows furrow while trying to decide what shirt you might want to wear.

You decided that he didn’t have to prove anything else to you, ultimately, you could see how pure his heart was, and it would be doing both of you a disservice to let assumptions of character control the course of your relationship.

You’re attentive enough to follow his cues while he’s dressing you or helping you up to the bathroom, but your mind is consumed by him.

“Doing okay, love?” His question pulls your head toward him. You adjust your posture in bed as he approaches you, climbing into the bed beside you.

“Better now that you’re back,” You hum lowly, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You take a deep breath, taking in the feeling of his skin against yours.

His body vibrates as he chuckles. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was thinking about something while we were in the bathroom,” He leans into your touch slightly, enough to make your eyes flutter shut.

“What’s up?” You accept his inquiry.

“I think we should take the kids here one day when they’re old enough,” He explains it as if it’s fate, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of him being certain that your shared future is meant to expand in so many different ways. You can’t picture yourself being pregnant for a long while, but the idea of building a family with him feels right to think about.

“We’ve fucked once and you’re thinking about our kids,” You tease him in a lighthearted tone, but you hear his nervous laughter.

“It’s just a thought,” He waves his hand gently.

“It’s a very nice thought, you’re really sweet,” You finally raise your head to look at him. You let your hand caress his cheek before kissing him gently. He accepts you immediately, and you let yourself linger on his lips for a few moments before pulling away to look at him.

He searches your eyes, focused on figuring out what you’re meant to tell him. You can’t think of anything profound to tell him, any extravagant sentimentalities you might’ve conjured up don’t make their way out onto your lips.

“I love you,” You whisper. Your feelings are buried too deep to let them all out now, but it’s enough to tell him this. You feel the pressure in your chest lessen the moment he smiles back at you.

“I love you so much,” He mumbles the words against your lips before kissing you, love seemed to radiate from his lips the way he was holding you against him. The day unfolded into the evening, time passing languidly as you were enamored with each other.

As you fell asleep with him holding onto your waist, you realized that sweetness had made its way into your life before your very eyes. The limitless potential between the two of you no longer strikes fear into your heart, but instead sustains you in new ways.

There would be time to flesh out the dynamics of your relationship, determining how you’d show up for each other in loud and unspoken ways, but the present feeling of safety that sat in your chest was enough.

Neither of you was perfect, but the act of showing up and being willing to grow with each other was enough.

You are both trying, and that is more than enough.

#svthub #hoshi smut #hoshi fic #soonyoung smut #soonyoung x reader #svt x reader #svt smut #svt angst #hoshi angst #AHHHH y’all have no idea how long I’ve been working on this #but I’m finally free thank god

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rheya28 · 3 months

Text

Frost Point Ski Resort [ Rental ] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to Frost Point, a ski resort nestled in the peak of Mt. Komorebi, where the chilly winter air is infused with the warmth of hospitality. Frost Point is not just a destination for winter enthusiasts; it's a haven for those seeking a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

The resort boasts charming, rustic architecture, with snug lodges that feature crackling fireplaces and plush furnishings. Picture yourself sipping hot cocoa by the fire after a thrilling day on the slopes, surrounded by the laughter of fellow guests sharing tales of their adventures.

Additional Notes: ● Obviously we do not have a hotel lot, however you can set this lot to a rental or a residential rental to make it somewhat function like one. You can also just set this as a generic lot for storytelling purposes.

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:10 Speed Build 16:16 Photos

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: Frost Point Ski Resort Lot type: Rental, Residential Rental, Generic Lot size: 50x50 Location: Mt. Komorebi

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Harrie ● Baysic Bathroom ● Country ● Brownstone ● Klean ● Octave pt [2] (Door), pt [4] (bed) ● Shop the Look pt [1][2] ● Spoons pt[2][3] ●Stockholm (Floor lamp) ● Orjanic (Windows) The Clutter Cat ● Busy Bee pt [2] (Ceiling Light ) ● Dandy Diary pt [2] ( Chess table) ● Sunny Sundae (rug) Bbygyal123 ● Abstract Prints FelixAndre ● Berlin (Office Chair) ● Kyoto pt [2] ● Chateau pt [5] (books), pt [4] (small plant) ● Florence pt [4] (Floor pattern) ● Grove pt [2] (coffee cups), pt [3] (Cushion) Charly Pancakes ● Maple & S Construction pt [3] ● Dinna (Small plant) ● Soho pt [1] ( Rug) House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Jardane LittleDica ● CountrySide Cabin ● Rise & Grind Rustic Sims ● Mayaken Cozy Kitchen (Ceiling Lamp) ● Modular Life (Wall art) Myshunosun ● Garden Stories (String lights) ● Lottie ● Tranquil bedroom (Ceiling light) Peacemaker ● Coba (Ottoman) ● Gently Draping ● Pointless Renovation ● Wood Slat Flooring (Vertical and horizontal) Pierisim ● Calderone (mirror) ● Coldbrew ● David Apartment pt [1] ● Domaine Du Close pt [2][3] ● MCM ● Oak House pt [5] (Pillow bedding), pt [4] ● Unfold ● Winter Garden pt [1] ● Woodland Ranch Sixam ● Cozy Family (decorative rug) ● Home Office ( Tablet keyboard) ● Hotel Bedroom (desk) Syboulette ● Ratatouille (Simlish sign's) MycupofCC ● The modernist Dining (wall art) The Townie Architect ● The Moderno Living Room (wall art) Tuds ● Cross (wall divider) ● Ind

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 builds #builds #the sims 4 cc build #the sims 4 hotel #the sims 4 ski resort #simblr

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aweina · 7 months

Text

౨ৎ. PEACHES & CREAM ( 17 + ) ; raiden

tags gn reader. caught masturbating. hand job. oral sex. food play. hair pulling. friends to lovers. + 2k words.

based on this ask

the straw basket you held was snug in your grasp, filled with assortments of glossy apples, fuzzy peaches, and ripe lychees. it was all of raiden’s favorite fruits — something you learned from tomas’s daily commutes to your family’s fruit farm.

a bad fever. you distinctly traced back to kung lao’s words, a bitter look animating his face every time he spared details about raiden’s current sickening state. a layer of cold sweat covering his skin, unusually complaining about muscle aches, and his appetite only consisting of a glass of water and some good sleep.

that was bad. raiden has never gotten sick in all the years you’ve known him. he wore his skin like armor — resilient and adaptable to any weather. but with the current heat waves passing through the condensed village, it only made sense for the hardworking farm boy to be too stubborn to miss a day in the cabbage fields.

nevertheless, you admired raiden for his work ethic, but most importantly his compassion and kindness. he shined so bright when there was a smile on his face. hearing his gentle voice made your eyes flutter shut and soothed throughout the whole day. your crush on the farm boy couldn’t be anymore obvious, but it seems your subtle flirting and wandering eyes went unnoticed for years.

you gently pad through the zen garden, minimal with white rocks and gravel that held the warmth of summer — your scandals were neatly placed by the entrance, footsteps much softer and less damaging to the wooden platform. raiden’s home, blared with midnight silence all while the vicious heat waves irritably hum in your ears, making you flush under your thin garments.

drop off the basket and make your way home. that was the plan.

but your nerves heightened at the source of warm light that bled through the sliding doors — shadows of objects inked all over the paper panel. it was raiden's room. he was awake?

slowly, you got closer, softly step towards the light with a nervous grip on the straw-woven handle. you froze in shock when you heard a strangled sound coming from the other side of the panel. one step. the sound was suppressed, lodged deep in his throat. closer. a rhythmic wetness, in sync with your racing heart. in front of the door. with a hoarse voice, your name desperately fell off his lips as a gushing sound followed after.

with a shaking hand, you curiously slid open the thin panel.

it’s raiden, he just jerked off on his bed while he moaned your name.

before slipping his strained hand past the waistband of his soiled underwear, he restlessly opens his eyes and sees you standing there.

did he come so hard that he was hallucinating?

it took an awkward second to realize you were in fact, real. immediately, raiden frantically covered his lower half with the bunched up covers beside him — his usual kind eyes filled with the fusion of embarrassment and guilt. if it weren’t across his room right now, raiden would’ve used his straw hat to avoid your unreadable eyes — preferably forever.

“i – uh – i can explain,” raiden finally sputtered with desperation. he was stressed, darting his wavering gaze over to the fallen fruit basket to your terrifyingly neutral expression.

he looked away, gazing down at his fidgeting, haphazardly wiped hands.

“i’m truly… truly sorry about this. you must have been uncomfortable hearing all that – if you wish to never see me, i’ll make sure to —“

“are you still sick, raiden?”

your tone was even as you entered the humid room and slid the panel door shut. he flinched at the sound of your footstep, even more so with your lack of response to his apology.

“i – i’ve recovered well…” his words seemed to fall into silence as he looked up and watched you slowly bend down and take a peach from the floor, peeling off the fuzz with delicate fingers.

“has any of madam bo’s remedies worked well for you?”

one side of the peach was peeled off, a bead of sweet juice running down the plush fruit. it gleamed under the warm lantern light and made raiden swallow in anticipation.

“yes… they have made great improvements to combat my sickness, although… i’m still suffering from a headache.”

thinking about his lengthy absence, away from his responsibilities in fengjian, away from the sense of community, away from you, led him to a troubling spiral that left his head pounding with an intense ache. touching himself seemed like the only solution at the time, especially when his worries about you transformed into a lustful yearning.

you nodded in acknowledgement, the peach extract now ran down your arm — tacky on your dewy skin. to his surprise, you took a generous bite from the fruit, the delicate floral flavor coating your mouth. a gush of juice ran down from the corner of your lustrous lips, prompting you to take a finger and catch the leftover juice, only to apply it over your lips like a sweet balm.

raiden concentrates on your alluring movements with wide eyes, thankful for his previous panicked behavior to hide his shameful actions, only for it now to hide another painfully confined boner.

pressing your sticky lips together, you tread towards the small bed to take a seat on the edge, far from the farm boy’s reach. but with you much closer than before, raiden’s rapid breathing was apparent. he’s nervous, yet there’s a sense of urgency coursing through his stiff body. he could crawl towards you if you wanted him to, he could even set aside every ounce of his pride to beg for your touch. but then your question made his flush pink while the sudden surge of blood pumping through his veins made his cock twitch.

“mind if i try one of my remedies?”

your voice is so sweet and intoxicating, replacing all his senses with sexual desire.

raiden nodded frantically.

“o – of course, please do.” then you smiled for the first time of the night.

you crawled towards him with need, immediately latching your mouth onto his. raiden sighs in relief, sloppily kissing you back in desperation, the taste of peach on the tip of his tongue. eagerly, he lapped his pink muscle over your sweet lips. his favorite fruit coating your lips, tasting it with his own mouth — he must be dreaming. you whimpered at his gentle licking, eyes fluttering shut to memorize each caress of his tongue.

to close any space between the two of you, raiden pulls away the covers and guides your flushed body to straddle him. your weight sealed tight against raiden, his hardened cock brushed along your own clothes wetness — a choked groan escaping his lips all while you swallow them into a searing sugary kiss.

in need of some air, the both of you were panting heavily as you pulled away, a shared dazed expression on each other’s faces. you were the first to laugh, lips swollen and glossy from raiden’s eager tongue. he joined in the break of sexual tension with a small chuckle, the essence of peach was still sweet on his palate. you smile warmly as you gently brushed threads of long black hair away from his flushed face — cradling his warm cheeks into your hands.

“is it fine if i continue?” you whispered against his lips, leaving a plethora of sweet pecks in between each word.

“i could never deny you.” he confesses with no sputter or hesitation to his words — genuine and sweet.

by the elder gods, you wanted to make him feel so good.

you smiled wickedly as you leaned back and adjusted yourself, grinding agonizingly slow and hard against his hot erection. raiden hisses, rough hands suddenly firm around your waist for leverage. the dimly lit room felt more humid than before, filled with desperate pants and heady sweat. summer’s heat waves didn’t help the fact that the both of you were burning with desire.

you began to undress from your silky robe, the patterned fabric pooled by the side of the bed. raiden fondly stares at your bare body, starstruck by your natural beauty. before he could remove his own damp clothing, your nimble fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt — exposing his heaving chest. for as long you’ve ever known raiden, a shirt clung onto his frame. never once showing an ounce of skin further than his collarbones. but this was something new. a well-toned stomach from his training with madam bo did him wonders. but with his even, golden tan shows that he does in fact train without a shirt — maybe after all this, you can accompany madam bo’s vigorous training.

but for now, your hands and lips ache to touch raiden everywhere. eagerly, you began to leave a trail of wet kisses and love marks all over his exposed body. raiden begins to groan with every scrap of your teeth, hands clinging desperately on his bedsheets. you smile at his impressive self-restraint, pulling away occasionally to fully memorize the details of his body. to the soft moles that scatter along his dewy marked skin, the deep contours that drew his frame, and finally the trail of coarse hair running his navel. he was perfect — so perfect.

raiden notices your intense gaze over his exposed form and shyly averts his eyes away, the grip on the cloth bed sheets giving him some stability.

you placed a sweet kiss over his navel, trailing down further as your cheeks began to graze his pubic hair, erection bumping against your chin.

“nervous?”

raiden shifts at your question and cutely nods.

“i am, but … i want to continue.” he has been waiting for this after all.

you nod at his words, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband as you carefully drag down his pants. raiden lifts his weight a bit to give you easier access — a comedic look on his face when his cock accidentally slaps your cheek when his waistband reaches down to his thighs.

“oh. i - i’m sorry.” he faintly chuckled in embarrassment, shrugging off the shirt to let it join the rest of the clothing on the floor.

you shook your head when you disgraced his pants, sitting up briefly to reach towards the nightstand.

“your excitement shouldn’t bring you shame.”

the half-bitten peach felt soft and sticky in your grasp, still supple with sweet sap.

“it just needs to be taken care of.”

raiden’s eyes perk up at the softened peach and immediately shift towards his cock. are you going to –

a sudden coldness kisses his swollen, oozing tip, dripping down on his shaft. raiden immediately moans at the foreign feeling, the delicate scent of honeyed sweetness seeping on his skin. your hands squeeze the peach a little harder, getting every ounce of sticky sap onto his twitching cock. running the fruit dry, you discarded it on the nightstand and began to run your hands down his length at an agonizingly slow pace.

your name falls prettily out of his lips with every careful pump — hips moving desperately to meet your hand. with his cock much more sensitive from the new sensation of a sticky essence and his previous orgasm, he was sure that he wouldn’t last much longer. sensing raiden’s peak, you pulled away — his hips sputter for a moment until they fell back onto the bed. raiden tried to compose himself, his shallow breaths brushing against your flushed face, progressively becoming more stable.

“don’t cum just yet, i haven’t even gotten to taste you.” you jested, shifting on your knees so that you’re at head level with his cock.

“your skill makes it hard for me not to.” raiden breathes out, a small smile on his face.

you playfully roll your eyes, brushing your hand over his fingertips — urging to guide his touch. curiously, raiden follows your gentle hold onto his long fingers until you thread them through your scalp. as he was a fast learner in combat, so was he in the bedroom. with a firm grip, raiden tugs onto the back of your head. you smiled at his new sense of confidence, the hesitation in his touch much more rough with assertiveness.

without a word, he slowly guided your mouth down onto his cock — the warm air replaced with a scorching wetness.

“shit.” raiden curses, a rarity in his usual vocabulary. his dark brows pinched together, strands of hair falling from his bun. “you are amazing.”

the small praise made your mouth water, dissolving the juice clung onto his length. raiden allows a few seconds for you to relax your mouth and begins to bob your head along his cock — careful to not let you gag just yet. the sweet taste of ripe peach and bitter precum laid deliciously over your tongue, twirling over his tip with every tug at your scalp. whimpers of your name escaped raiden’s lip as the sleek sounds of your filled mouth were in sync with one another. with your mouth adjusting to the forgiving pace, you began to suckle and moan around his cock — sending extra sensations for raiden to feel. he bites back a groan, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth and the perfect view of his hand gripping your messy hair and glossy eyes eagerly looking up at him.

even like this, he honestly found you to be breathtaking.

“you are so beautiful. oh. it just feels so good –“

raiden tilts his head up, his cock beginning to twitch in your mouth. the heady taste of cum and peach puts you into a mind numbing trance, intently suckling and licking down his length. suddenly, you gagged at the sudden graze of his tip, noticing how much further it is down your throat. your senses suddenly flood back into you, his low whines and groans much more clear.

“i – i’m close — so close.” raiden warns, his restraint begins to slowly chipping away as his grip begins to leave your scalp tender, his pace backing more grueling with each hard thrust of his hips, making you choke and tear up.

you grip tightly into his thighs, steadily breathing through your nose as his cock continuously plunges down throat. the coil in your gut burns with greed, ready to take his load. the fast building tension came so quick, you knew instantly that he was there. and with one final thrust, raiden calls out your name, hot cum spurting down your bruised throat — coating your mouth with a salty, peachy taste. his body jerks in overwhelming ecstasy, sweat collecting around his brow bone dripping down his neck. his cock softens in your mouth, making your breathing less restricting. the death grip on your scalp exchanged to a comforting massage, gently guiding your mouth to detach from his cock with a lewd pop.

your eyes met, his much more apologetic and filled with worry. as yours was filled with a satisfied haze.

“are you feeling okay?” raiden whispered in concern, making the effort to pat down the messy strands of your hair. “i was too rough on you, i’m sorry about that.”

you shook your head, laying your head over his stomach. raiden sighs in relief, although his brows still knit with concern.

“i’m fine. what about you? is your headache finally gone?”

raiden tilts his head in confusion, until he realizes what you mean. he lightly chuckles, continuing to caress your head adoringly.

“it is actually,” he genuinely admits, eyeing the crushed peach on the nightstand in amusement. “your remedy does work after all.”

you grinned at his teasing, slowly lifting up your whole body to grab one of the few sizable fragments of the fruit — pressing its sweet yellow flesh against your cum coated lips.

“if you ever feel sick again, i can try out other remedies.” you suggested, raising the sweet remnant towards his mouth.

his eyes light up before he gently grabs your wrist as he takes a bite, holding your unwavering gaze. he catches you off guard with a sudden short tug — locking into a tender kiss. raiden gently drags his tongue along the molars of your mouth and over your quivering lips. the taste of himself and the delicate floral sweetness surprisingly compliment each other.

he slowly pulled away, a trail of saliva between your lips gleamed under the warm light.

“then i hope my fever could last a little longer.”

#.୨୧ ina writes #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #raiden x reader #mk1 raiden

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auteurdelabre · 14 days

Text

A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader

rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader

tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.

Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears.

"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."

You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room.

You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins.

"You remember Magda, right?"

"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back.

"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise.

"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"

"I can tell."

She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm.

"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."

He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow.

You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years.

When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful.

It doesn't suit him at all.

Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.

"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"

"Yeah, Lyda something.'

"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."

"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."

"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.

"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."

Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end

"Dieter you don't-"

"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?"

Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding.

"Thanks Dieter."

You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly.

"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.

This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.

You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you.

But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up. You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.

Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy.

Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.

"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him.

"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale

pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it."

He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle.

"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"

You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest.

He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you.

"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"

"You mean you don't know?"

"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars."

"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."

"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"

"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."

"Hmmm an end to global warming?"

"Sorry that's only with the premium package."

You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs.

Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.

Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia.

You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat.

"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.

"A key?"

"For the guest house."

"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"

"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."

For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.

You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.

Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.

And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.

“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”

“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place.

“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”

Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.

It looks like a sex dungeon.

Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red.

"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."

It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.

"You have whips hung on the walls."

"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.

"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?"

Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you.

"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."

"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."

"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."

The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.

“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”

Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.

Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.

"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."

I know he's not mine.

This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.

But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies.

"Okay, sure."

“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”

“That’s so boring.”

“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”

Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.

"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."

You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.

"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow.

Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it.

"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"

"I painted it for you."

All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him.

"You did?"

"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"

“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me."

"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"

Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now.

"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"

"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."

"What?"

"I never thought you saw me."

Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face.

"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."

"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."

"Why do you do it?

“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud. “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”

You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.

“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”

“Really? We’re friends?”

“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”

Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal.

But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.

Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?

And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.

You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.

He wants that again.

Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking.

"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"

He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.

You're so big, Dieter.

And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him.

Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder.

"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress.

Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep.

"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"

His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy.

A name and photo flash up on the screen.

Mia.

Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling.

He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone.

"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down.

"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."

Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window.

You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"Dee? You there?"

"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"

"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"

"Stressed, but better."

"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."

Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds.

"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice.

The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone.

"Pardon me?"

"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused.

"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"

"I do want it."

"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"

"Not with me. In the guest house."

"This is weird, Dee."

He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia.

"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Pay for a hotel?"

The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here?

Because then he could see you every day.

The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now.

"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."

"But-"

"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."

He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone.

"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."

Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how.

"Prague!"

Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is.

"Sorry, what?"

"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"

"Yes."

"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."

"You'd really want to do that?"

"Of course."

He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.

"Okay Dee, let's do it."

“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”

He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.

You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.

Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.

He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.

“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”

“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”

Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.

“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”

“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”

“Next Thursday.”

Next Thursday.

Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.

A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.

Well, not completely alone.

From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.

Like tonight.

You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.

The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.

But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.

Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.

Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear.

It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you.

You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit.

Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock.

You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise.

Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you.

"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck are you doing?

Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you.

You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.

You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.

You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”

“What?”

Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.

“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”

“Of course.”

“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”

“For how long do you think?”

“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”

A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.

There’s no roach.

You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.

“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”

“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.

The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower. You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.

“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”

You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.

“Sure.”

“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

“Dieter.”

“What if you go into labor?”

“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”

Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.

Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.

But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.

But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.

“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”

“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.

The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep.

“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”

Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.

Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.

"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips.

"Weird right?"

"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.

“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”

Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.

“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.

“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”

You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.

"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.

“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”

Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”

“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."

Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.

With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.

Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle.

It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.

All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you.

But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.

He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.

So you do.

29 weeks

Cravings

SALT

Vanilla

pie filling

chips

peanuts

Missing

the ability to see my feet

Baby is size of butternut squash

The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.

[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid. [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible. [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural.

You roll your eyes.

[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun.

You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter

Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.

[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid. [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself. [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget.

You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel.

[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl

You frown at the phone.

"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.

"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."

Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit.

"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen.

"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?"

The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly. He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.

"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."

The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby.

You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it.

When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.

"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."

With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.

Your birthday.

The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop.

As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.

Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.

[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.

You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.

[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.

[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?

You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.

[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.

You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.

You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.

“Hello?”

“Why are you distracted?”

“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t Mia with you?”

“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”

“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”

“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”

“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.

“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”

You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.

“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."

You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.

“Dieter?”

“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”

“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”

You break off when you feel tears starting.

“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”

“Hey, wait-“

“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile.

When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.

You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.

The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.

Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes.

You wish he was here.

You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go.

"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you."

You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.

You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.

“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“

It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.

Dieter’s voice draws you back in.

“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”

You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention. You turn your attention back to the recording.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”

You stop the tape, rewinding it.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.

“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”

Again.

“I love you so much.”

Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.

Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.

He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly.

Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand.

He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.

You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours.

"G'night baby mama."

You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck.

"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."

He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.

"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing.

Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies.

"I love you too."

TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @sptbear @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #series #a little sun

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tau1tvec · 4 months

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GALLO FAMILY HIDEAWAY // Pinewood Island Airbnb

Happy holidays, although wouldn't it be a lot happier for your sim if they had a nice, quiet place to spend some time with loved ones, to truly appreciate it? Well they're in luck! My sim is renting out his holiday home on scenic Pinewood Island, and it might just be the cozy location your sim is looking for! This three story alpine lodge boasts two spacious bedrooms, a chef style kitchen, a study/workout room fully outfitted for your sim's inner online creative, dining room with a stylish fireplace, a wine cellar, sauna, and a garden with a few friendly hens to keep your sim company. Your sim will also have access to their own private dock, complete with plenty of boat options to fully admire the water surrounding the island.

DETAILS

Library File. Two lots included, the house and the dock. Once you've placed the files into your Library Folder, you can access them in Edit World, use them to replace the ones already there.

Fully Furnished! CC is included in the zip, install it as you would any other package files, unless you already have them. Mind you it's quite hefty though, roughly 500 files, so I can't promise I didn't miss anything, but I checked several times.

Pinewood Island is strongly recommended. You can try it in another world, but I can't promise it'll look good.

Playtested. Weirdly it isn't very cramped, despite being heavily decorated, so everything seemed to be working well on my end.

I have all Packs and Store Sets installed, my Store Sets are "decrapped".

Should you run into any issues feel free to inbox me.

CREDITS

Major thanks to all the cc creators that helped make this happen, and the biggest thanks to @nilxis for creating Pinewood Island, and its original lots!

DOWNLOAD | MF

#the sims 3 #ts3 #ts3cc

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humanpurposes · 7 months

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It Will Come Back

Chapter 1, You Know Better

Two sides of a family fight for their own claims to the Targaryen inheritance. Amongst the endless infighting, forced pleasantries and PR scandals, Jaya Velaryon finds herself face to face with a demon of her past, namely Aemond Targaryen. Love and hate are not emotions easily unlearned.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Jaya Velaryon (OFC)

Warnings: 18+, dark elements, targcest (uncle x niece relationship) toxic family dynamics, drinking, recreational drug use, manipulation (I guess?)

Words: 5800

A/n: Please make sure you read the warnings. If any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable feel free to give it a miss 🫶 Also serves as my (very very late) entry for Week 1 of the literary prompts for @hotd-bigbang

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” -Wuthering Heights

6 years earlier...

Jaya leaned on her shoulder against the wall by the side door, waiting as inconspicuously as she could despite the fact she was dressed in a black crop top, skirt and pumps. Clearly, she had no intention of spending the evening at home.

She shifted her weight on her feet, pulled at the hem of her crop top and checked the pocket of her black denim jacket; pocket mirror, lipgloss, eyeliner, and the vintage lighter Aemond had slipped into her hands a few months ago. Every time she tried to give it back he wouldn’t take it. She smiled to herself as she traced her thumb over the engraving of a three headed dragon in the silver plating. He said he had found it in his father’s study years ago, but Viserys had enough of them to not notice that one had gone missing, apparently.

She froze when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and through the hallway. They were too light to be Laenor’s, too quick to be Rhaenyra’s, too cautious to be Luke or Joff.

Jace appeared through the archway, a red blazer thrown over his shoulder, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned at the top to show off two chains, one gold, one silver. His perfectly white sneakers hardly made a sound against the hardwood floors. He tutted when he saw her.

“What?” she said, tightening her grip on the lighter in her pocket.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jaya had a few memories of their apartments at the Red Keep. She considered the humbly named Queen’s Lodge to be the only home she had ever known. The house sat on a large estate in the corner of Queen’s Park, not too far from the centre of King’s Landing, but removed from the noise and chaos of the city. The front looked out over immaculately kept gardens while the back of the house was for leisure, the patio, the pool and the tennis court beyond that. The side door Jaya and Jace found themselves passing through every Friday night led out to a small orchard of apple trees.

Summer was fast approaching but the night air was far from warm. Once Jace had locked the door from the inside latch and pocketed the spare key, Jaya led him down the barely visible path, down to a denser grove of older, taller trees, to the iron fence that bordered the entire estate. Jace hoisted her up and over the fence before clambering after her.

Where the daylight saw countless people passing through the park, the Velaryon twins walked through darkness and silence along the boardwalk, down to the gates that were locked every day at sunset.

Well, almost silence. Jace walked a few paces behind his sister, huffing and sighing pointedly.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Jaya said over her shoulder, a fact she reminded him of every week.

“I’m not going to let you go alone,” Jace said.

She tried to appreciate the intention, but having him dragging his feet behind her, constantly complaining when he could just stay home was frankly getting exhausting.

“I won’t be alone,” she said, checking the last few texts on her phone.

The first read, Here.

Which was soon followed by, Hurry up. It’s fucking cold :)

Jaya giggled to herself and looked ahead. The gate was coming into view now, and so were the two girls waiting by it.

They were both dressed in black, Sabby in a mini dress trimmed with lace, Alyssane in flared jeans, a Vivienne Westwood top and a pearl necklace.

“Did you not think to bring a jacket, Sabs?” Jaya grinned as Jace helped her over the gate.

“It’s strategic,” Alysanne said, “she’ll complain she’s cold and some cool, sexy economics student will offer her his jacket.”

“Politics,” Sabby said, reaching to help Jaya as she slipped down. “Gods, you must be the first person to ever say ‘cool’, ‘sexy’ and ‘economics student’ in the same sentence.”

From the park it was only a short walk to the bus stop, and a matter of minutes until they reached Conquest Street. Jaya loved it, the energy buzzing in the streets as they passed the pubs and bars, music pulsing from every direction, people laughing and shouting to make themselves heard.

From there she knew the way to Maegor’s Square without thinking. A few people lingered around the garden at the centre of the square and some leaned over the balconies in their aparments, smoking cigarettes and sipping expensive booze from mismatched glasses.

Then they came to the townhouse on the corner, with the emerald green door and the gold knocker in the shape of a dragon’s head. A bit on the nose, but their family were hardly known for their subtlety.

“I can’t believe you got us an invite to one of Aegon’s parties,” Alysanne hissed excitedly into her ear.

It was nothing really, Aegon wasn’t picky about the company he kept, and if anything, he liked picking up waifs and strays.

Jaya smiled as she checked her makeup in her pocket mirror. “Well, I am his favourite niece,” she said, smudging out the eyeliner in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re his only niece,” Jace grumbled.

“Exactly, no room for competition,” Jaya said, before applying another swipe of red lipgloss over her lips. “How do I look?” she asked the three of them.

Alysanne and Sabby immediately responded with praise that just seemed to float through her.

Jace tilted his head. For a moment Jaya thought she saw pity in her brother’s eyes.

“Beautiful,” he said, “you’re always beautiful.”

Jaya tutted. She didn’t mean her, she meant the makeup.

She tapped the knocker four times before being greeted by a haze of smoke, the smell of liquor and a slow psychedelic rock song playing from another room. The door had been opened by Arryk Cargyll, one of Aegon’s uni friends. He had a glass of clear liquid and ice in his hand and a cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. He hugged Jaya tightly and she beamed back, making a point to ask about his upcoming internship at Lannister Legal. He seemed impressed that she had remembered.

“Third year law,” she said to Alysanne and Sabby. “And he has a twin brother, Erryk. Politics,” she added with a wink. The girls giggled.

Jace settled for a quick handshake and a nod.

“Friends from school?” Arryk asked as he greeted the girls.

“Yeah, we’re all at Peremore’s,” Alysanne said, slotting herself beside him with a well-practised smile. They had another few weeks of classes before their final exams, but they all had their university applications confirmed.

Arryk led them through the bodies lingering in the hallway, into the kitchen and Alysanne began the usual routine of telling him what she studied– Politics, Psychology and Literature– and her plans to do Law at Vale. Sabby looked a little sour.

Jaya made herself at home, leaning against the black marble countertop, grinning to herself as Arryk suggested opening a bottle of champagne. He poured out four glasses, keeping one for himself, handing one each to Sabby and Alysanne. He went to give the fourth to Jaya then looked to Jace with a look of embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Jace said shortly, “I’ll get myself a beer–”

“Jacey boy!” a theatrical voice called as the double glass door to the garden swung open. Aegon Targaryen swept into the room with a cold breeze, slapping his hand down on his nephew’s shoulder.

Jaya briefly glanced around the room, searching for another head of silver hair. Her heart sank a little when she didn’t find it.

The angles of Aegon’s face made him look severe, especially when he smiled, but it was countered by his wide violet eyes with a softer, sadder look. He looked at Jaya, with a firm hand on Jace’s shoulder, and smiled. She smiled back.

“Made it at last,” Aegon said as Jace shrugged him off. “I thought you two were getting here early.”

“No I told you,” Jaya said, nodding to her friends, “I brought guests.”

Aegon could turn charm on like a switch. His voice suddenly took on a richer tone as he introduced himself to the girls, shaking their hands and pressing light kisses to their knuckles.

Jace plucked a green bottle from the fridge and began to drink, scowling at everyone between sips.

“Could you at least look like you’re having fun?” Jaya muttered into his ear as he settled beside her against the counter.

“What’s fun about this?” he replied.

She supposed she knew what he meant. These parties weren’t always as exciting as she wanted them to be, watching other people get wasted, sitting through not-entirely-sober lectures from Aegon’s friends, which really just felt like they were getting off to the sound of their own voices. It could be quite intimidating sometimes, but this was just how adults had fun.

She had this vision that one day something would just click. All the boring parts of parties would seem fun, the drinks wouldn’t taste as strong, the mindless small talk with people she didn’t know would make sense, the music wouldn’t feel so loud.

For now she had her own reason for coming to Maegor’s Square every Friday night.

Her heart hummed when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. A few voices muttered vague greetings which were met by a distant “hmm.”

“Why haven’t you got a drink yet, Jaya?” Aegon asked and she realised she had yet to take the champagne from Arryk.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped and a thrill slipped down her spine. Someone was looming behind her. She could feel his breath on her neck and the heat radiating from his body.

“She’ll have some of this,” a low but soft voice said, holding out a glass of red wine in front of her. She recognised his hand, the veins and the tendons prominent underneath pale skin. The silver signet ring on his little finger, engraved with a three headed dragon. The scent of his perfume, woody and green, lingering with the smell of tobacco.

Jaya took the glass with her fingertips, trying to hide her delight as she turned over her shoulder to face him. Aemond gazed down at her with a gentle look in his blue eyes and the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

“What is it?” she asked, bringing it to her lips.

“It’s Dornish,” he said, “you’ll like it.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked it, so much as she could swallow it without wincing, but Aemond always seemed so happy when she liked the things he gave her. His eyes were fixed on her face as she took three small sips, and wiped away the red imprint of her lipgloss on the rim. It was sour and it left a slight burn on her tongue. She muttered an apology about the lipgloss but he didn’t seem to mind, drinking from the other side of the glass when he took it back.

She kept her back to the others as Aegon, Arryk and the girls all became better acquainted. She stayed as close to Aemond as she dared, her chest a few inches from his, her neck craning to look up at him even with her heels.

“I missed you while you were away,” she said, fighting the urge to fiddle with the fabric of her skirt or the polished surface of her red painted nails.

Aemond’s mother liked to whisk her children away every year for a few weeks around spring break, usually to join the rest of the Hightower family at Honeywine Hall, an old manor house in the mountains. It sounded perfect, hiking, horse trails, swimming in reservoirs and trips into Oldtown. She lived as vicariously as she could through Aemond’s nightly phone calls and the souvenirs he had sent her, the postcards, the photographs and even a book he had found in a second-hand shop in Oldtown, a special edition of Wuthering Heights with gold lettering on a patterned cover.

She and Aemond exchanged any details they might have missed from their phone calls. She liked watching him talk, the way his lips moved, the bashful way he would avert his eyes from hers when he felt himself going off on a tangent. Equally she liked the way he watched her when it was her turn to speak, the brightness of his eyes, his almost smug expression and the smile lines in his cheeks.

“Oh!” she gasped, feeling her eyes going wide, “and I read Wuthering Heights.” Of course she had. She had devoured it within days of receiving the parcel from him.

Aemond smiled and her heart ignited. Most of the books she read came at his recommendation.

“What did you think?” he asked, trailing the tip of his index finger up and down his glass.

“I mean, you know how I feel about classics, and I suppose it was rather difficult to get into at first, but it was…” she gestured vaguely with her hand while she tried to think, before she settled on “haunting.”

“Haunting,” he echoed. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a beautiful way.”

His eyes were on hers, his lips settled into a look of calm content, perhaps even pride. She hoped it was pride.

“It was so vivid. I loved the longing and the hopelessness,” she said.

Aemond laughed quietly at that, taking another sip of wine and drawing the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I knew you’d like it, you love the doom and gloom.”

If she did, it was because he had taught her to. They liked all the same things, classic fiction, horror movies, cold weather, black coffee, quiet moments during loud parties when their eyes would meet in understanding, or recognition that they were two people whose souls were the same.

She had to bite down her fury with her tongue between her teeth when someone else came along to steal Aemond’s attention. Rickard Thorne, she thought the guy’s name was, one of Aemond’s coursemates.

Jaya’s tactic for parties was to keep moving. She took Sabby by the hand and nodded at Jace, suggesting they move into the lounge. Alysanne had firmly been lost to Arryk; somehow she had turned a conversation about paralegal internships into flirting and Jaya was rather impressed.

She felt like she was good at this by now, starting conversations with the young and beautiful of the city’s elite, most of whom were students at the university– and spending a lot of these parties by Aemond’s side, she had picked up enough to converse with even the most pretentious of politics students. But it was her birthright to belong in a place like this. She didn’t have the silver hair or the violet eyes, but everyone knew who she was before she could tell them. She could see it in their eyes as she introduced herself. You’re Rhaenyra Targaryen’s daughter.

Each venture into the kitchen came with a stop by the assortment of bottles on the counter, but she mostly stuck with the arbour red. When she couldn’t find any more bottles of that, she and Sabby found a sickly sweet rosé that was easier to drink.

She checked the time at midnight, feeling a pleasant haze fall over her. She could hardly stop giggling at everything, at Sabby’s struggle to pour a drink and ending up with more wine on the counter than in her glass, at the couples in the hallway trying to suffocate each other with their mouths and bodies. She wandered through the house without knowing where she wanted to go, and squinted at the head of brown curls buried into the neck of Loras Tyrell. Shit. Well at least Jace was having some fun now.

She ended up in the dining room at the front of the house. This seemed to be where most of the fun was happening. There was a black leather sofa by the door, where Alysanne was sitting between Arryk and Aegon. They were sharing a bottle of vodka between them and whispering into each other’s ears between swigs.

In the centre of the room was a vintage mahogany table. A small group gathered around it, spectating an apparently gripping game of chess. Sitting over the white pieces was one of the Tully brothers, and over the black pieces was Aemond.

He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, leaning with his elbows on the table and swirling a glass of whisky as he considered his next move. A mischievous smirk graced his lips as he glanced up at his opponent, and raised his hand to move a piece. Their audience gasped and muttered amongst themselves in awe.

Aemond’s eyes met hers across the room. His hair had fallen slightly, the edges forming a curtain over his forehead. He smiled into his drink. This was his version of a few too many, challenging people to chess games and breaking out the expensive liquor.

She suddenly felt proud, then embarrassed, and turned back to the sofa.

Aegon was placing a pill on Alysanne’s tongue while Arryk handed her the vodka to wash it down. She winced but managed to swallow it.

Aegon caught Jaya’s eye. “Want one?” he asked, looking at her with his chin tilted down and his overgrown hair falling around his eyes. It looked less charming than Aemond’s, more messy than effortless.

The grin on his face made her feel uneasy. She had always been an observer of these habits, never a participant. She meant to ask what it was he had given Alysanne and the question was on the tip of her tongue—

“Zaldrīzītsos,”

Her head snapped back to Aemond without hesitation. He was turned away from the table a little, a dark, almost furious expression on his face. She wondered why, surely she hadn’t done anything wrong? He beckoned her over with a single finger but she was already walking towards him.

When she was close enough, Aemond wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She burned where their skin met, especially when his hand came to hold her side, fingertips pressing into her flesh.

“Now,” he muttered into her ear and she shuddered at the sensation of his breath over her neck. “I want your help with something. Tell me you see what I’m seeing.”

She dragged her attention to the board and the pieces upon it. It almost felt like a test, but she had no intentions of disappointing him.

It wasn’t entirely obvious at first, they seemed to be pretty evenly matched, but then she saw it. A discrepancy in Tully’s game. She played through a few moves in her head, just like Aemond had taught her.

She turned her head back to Aemond with the beginnings of a smile. With his knowing look she knew she had it figured out.

She looked across the board at the Tully boy. “Checkmate in three,” she said.

His eyes widened and looked down frantically. “You’re bluffing,” he said, “you’re having me on, there’s no fucking way–”

“Do the honours for me, would you?” Aemond’s voice whispered in her ear, giving her waist a slight squeeze.

She couldn’t help but grin as she went to move one of Aemond’s pieces.

And suddenly Tully saw it too. “Shit,” he said. “Shit. Shit. Shit!” He tried desperately to counter with his Queen.

Jaya made the second move triumphantly, pitifully met by Tully’s attempt to save the game, but it was already won.

When she reached for the final move, Aemond’s hand wrapped around hers. “I started the game, only fair that I finish it, yes?”

She could hardly find the breath to reply. “Yes,” she uttered, letting Aemond guide her hand into her lap before he moved the final piece.

“Checkmate,” he said coolly, flicking over Tully’s King with his finger.

He would have won either way, but Jaya was happy to have even just a small share in his victory. But then with the game over, she supposed she didn’t have a reason to stay so close to him.

Aemond brought his face before hers, until the tips of their noses barely touched. “Good girl for spotting that,” he murmured.

His praise hit her like electricity. For a moment she thought she was going to lose her balance, bracing herself with a palm on his thigh as he brought both hands to her waist. She was steady. She was stable.

“How much have you had?” Aemond asked with a smirk.

“Gods, uncle, why do you have to sound so self-righteous?” she huffed, bringing her hands to the silky material of his shirt. She watched her hands glide over his chest, delicately and effortlessly. The top few buttons were undone, baring his neck. She thought about running her finger along it, down to the hollow spot in his collar bone. Or she could trail it along his jaw, over the sight hint of stubble she could see. Then she could let her thumb linger on his lip– Gods she loved his lips and the smile lines around his mouth.

A soft but startling noise brought both of their attention to the sofa. Sabby was here now too, but she was talking to Alysanne– no she was leaning over her, or was she trying to pull her up? Arryk and Aegon were on their feet, in some sort of argument.

Jaya frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “What are they–”

Aemond pushed her onto her feet by her waist. Now that she wasn’t sitting down she felt dizzy but she clung onto a chair to keep her balance.

Aemond was kneeling beside Alysanne and pulling her hair from her face while she was sprawled out on the sofa. Sabby was shouting at Aegon and Arryk.

Jaya felt more sober with each step she took towards them. She was hit with a boozy, sour smell and realised that the front of Alysanne’s top was drenched with what looked like water, but was trailing from her mouth. She was crying, and when Jaya got close enough, she saw her hands were trembling.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Jace’s voice bellowed from the doorway. He rushed forward and Aemond was by Jaya’s side before Jace could shove him away.

Jaya was frozen, even as Aemond curled his arm around her shoulder.

“She’ll be fine,” Aegon was saying, “she's just had a bad reaction, she can sleep it off.”

Sabby had Alysanne sitting up now. Her sobs were getting less frantic now, but it was hard to see her so clearly distressed.

Jace scowled at Aegon. “What did you give her?”

Jaya felt Aemond’s arm tensing tighter around her.

Aegon smiled. “Don’t worry, kid, wouldn’t dream of giving her anything too strong.”

She saw the way Jace’s jaw tensed at Aegon’s choice of words.

“Seven fucking hells,” Aemond muttered under his breath.

Her brother was on a knife’s edge, his fists clenching by his sides. Aegon seemed unphased at his silent threats.

Jaya pulled herself away from Aemond and went to Alysanne.

“How do you feel?” Sabby kept asking her.

“My head hurts,” Alysanne grumbled, cradling her forehead in her palms.

“Can you stand up?” Jaya suggested.

Alysanne lurched to her feet without warning, stumbling forward but Jaya and Sabby were there to catch her.

“There…” Alysanne groaned, but she was still struggling to find her footing. “I did it.”

“She needs to go home,” Sabby said, bringing Alysanne’s arm around her shoulders.

With one final seething glare to Aegon, then Arryk, then Aemond, Jace turned his anger to Jaya. “Why the fuck did you let that happen?” he hissed.

Her stomach dropped and she could only stare at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “What?” she uttered.

“Alysanne is your friend,” he seethed. “You should know better.”

He was right though. She had been the one to suggest Alysanne and Sabby come along. She had let Alysanne get close to Arryk and Aegon. She’d seen Aegon put a pill on her tongue and she hadn’t even questioned it.

Her eyes were starting to sting, like she wanted to cry but she couldn’t quite remember how. She just wished Jace would stop looking at her like that, his glare laced with venom and scolding, like she was a child, like he knew better. Jace always thought he knew better.

Aemond stepped forward to help Sabby carry Alysanne. “I’ll call you a car—”

“No,” Jace snapped, standing in his way. “You lot have done enough already.” He brought one arm around Alysanne and pulled out his phone with his other hand. He muttered something to Sabby and the three of them began to muddle their way to the hallway.

“Oh you’re leaving?” Aegon called after them with a dramatic frown and his hand clutched to his chest.

Jaya could only find herself able to watch and breathe in the stench of her friend’s vomit. The other faces in the room were hungry and curious. They all had their heads close together, whispering and gasping but not loud enough that she could make out anything tangible.

Aemond leaned into her and she instinctively met his gaze. “Are you going too?”

She realised Jace was stopped in the doorway, glaring at her expectantly.

Then Sabby’s voice called from the front door. Their car was here. They needed to leave now. Alysanne had to get home.

“Jaya can spend the night here, Jace,” Aemond said before she could think of something to say. “I’ll drop her off in the morning.”

Jace’s face fell as he looked at his sister one final time. Jaya gave him a small nod and then he was gone.

The house was surprisingly quiet once the front door slammed shut.

And of course there was only one person who was going to break the silence.

Aegon began laughing. It wasn’t a sound she liked. It was loud and obnoxious and cold. But the attention was on him at least and before long it was almost as if nothing had happened. Arryk grabbed some paper towels, Aegon was doing lines off the dining table, and Jaya was still standing in the middle of the room, letting the noise of chatter and the bass of a slow song float through her.

Aemond’s hand on her shoulder anchored her back into the room.

“I think you should go to sleep,” he said.

“But it’s early,” she groaned as he guided her towards the kitchen.

She hooked her arms around his elbow as he reached for a glass and filled it with water.

“It’s nearly one,” he said, handing her the glass. “Come on, we’ll get up early and get you something to eat before you go home. Sound good?”

She nodded as she tried to drink and ended up banging her teeth on the glass. Aemond chuckled softly, it was more like a hum in his throat. She had an awful feeling that he was laughing at her mistake.

He draped her jacket over his spare arm and led her through the hallway, up the winding staircase to the top floor. The house had three in total and because it was only the two of them living there, Aegon and Aemond had their own floors with a bedroom, an ensuite and a study— not that Aegon’s study was ever used for its intended purpose.

She loved Aemond’s bedroom with its dark wood floors, forest green walls, rows of bookshelves and the old record player in the corner. She went into the ensuite to wash the makeup from her face and the wine stains in the corners of her mouth, brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush and changed into the t-shirt Aemond had pulled from his drawer.

When she came back into the room Aemond was only in his jeans, his shirt thrown over a chair, leaning by the open window and fiddling with a filter and a packet of tobacco. She was determined not to look at his chest, the lines of his abs, or the trail of silver hair running below the waistband of his jeans.

“Light?” he muttered when he noticed her.

Jaya nodded and took the lighter from the pocket of her jacket. She tried to walk as straight as she could over to where Aemond was. He placed the cigarette between his teeth and leaned into her.

It took her a few tries to spark the light. She huffed at her own incompetence and dug her teeth into her lower lip, but her third attempt proved to be a charm. The flame bathed Aemond’s face with warmth and flickers of shadows over the angles of his face.

She watched, hypnotised by the way his chest rose as he inhaled the smoke, and the way his lips pouted as he turned his head and expelled it towards the window. Even then she could smell the smoke and feel traces of it burning in her nose and throat.

His eyes moved back to her. He smirked at her apparent fascination.

He offered her the cigarette and she frowned. He’d never done that before.

Her hands felt light and a little numb, but she reached for it, holding it between her fingers like he always did. But then she realised she had no idea what she should do next.

“Take a drag,” Aemond said softly. “But not too much, you'll make yourself sick.”

She brought it to her lips and started to pull the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes moved to his when she had reached the end of his instruction.

“Hold it.” The gentle commanding of his voice put her on edge.

She decided the taste and the sensation of the smoke wasn’t pleasant, but she didn’t dislike it.

“Breathe in…” Aemond said, his chest moving with hers as she inhaled the smoke, “... and out.”

As she exhaled she blew the smoke over Aemond’s face. “Fuck!” she giggled, trying to wave it away, “sorry, I just didn’t think–”

“It’s alright,” Aemond said with a smile as he took the cigarette back from her and brought it to his lips again. “How do you feel?”

She let her head fall towards her shoulder. She felt light and heavy. Happy and sad. Lots of things and nothing specific.

After another exhale of smoke out the window, Aemond took a step into her and leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead.

Jaya’s chest felt tight. Her heart raced but she stopped herself from reacting.

She couldn’t remember when Aemond started to make her feel nervous. When they were kids they were inseparable, even though she was closer in age to Daeron and their parents were convinced she and Helaena should be like sisters. She followed him everywhere, asked him questions constantly and insisted they hold hands wherever they went. She adored him. She still did now.

She muttered a quiet “night,” and dragged herself towards the bed, wrapping herself in the heavy duvet and curling into the pillows.

She couldn’t sleep yet. The noise of the party hummed through the house, but what caught her attention was the sound of Aemond’s breath moving between his lips. She could still picture his face perfectly, the pout of his lips and his jaw.

She couldn’t help it. She opened her eyes. He was leaning against the windowsill, tapping the ash into a small tray before taking another few drags. She watched him until he stubbed the embers out and moved his hands down to the buttons on his jeans.

A thrill rippled down her front, down to her abdomen.

Stop it.

She quickly turned onto her other side, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She still didn’t let herself fall asleep. She waited with bated breath.

She followed the gentle thud of his jeans being tossed onto the chair and the sound of his footsteps. He let out a throaty sigh as the mattress dipped behind her.

And then she felt him, the warmth of his body against her back, his arm around her waist, pulling her into him, his breath fluttering against her loose hair.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t have a good night,” he muttered. She felt the hum of his voice between her shoulders.

“No,” she whispered, “it was fine.”

It wasn’t fine. She still wanted to cry.

Aemond’s hand started to trace circles over her stomach through the t-shirt. This kind of proximity had become a habit between them even after they had outgrown childish affection, lingering touches and delicate kisses. She loved it. He wasn’t this close with anyone else.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Alysanne, the grin on Aegon's mouth as he fed her the pill, or the look of anger on Jace's face when he left.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she said.

Aemond froze, his hand paused, splayed across her stomach. It left her with a tight, restless feeling in her belly.

Then he embraced her, tightening his grip, almost squeezing her against him and burying his face into her neck. “Never,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “You could never make me feel like that.”

For a moment his lips pressed against her neck. Aemond pulled away slightly, seemingly having done it by accident. Jaya was still, clinging onto his arm and holding her breath.

Until Aemond leaned in again to place a soft but purposeful kiss to her neck. It felt like she was being smothered, the weight of his body pressing into her side, his arm keeping her tightly against him, while her breath came through her nose and mouth with little huffs.

He began to trail his kisses up her neck, along her jaw, to her cheek, until she realised what he wanted. She angled her head back, enough for him to press his lips against hers.

He kissed her slowly, letting his lips drag lazily over hers as his hand crept beneath her t-shirt.

She gave a short whine when she felt his palm against her bare skin.

“Shh,” he cooed against her mouth, letting his tongue slip between her lips. He tasted sweet and bitter, like wine and whisky and smoke. He was still gentle though, and Jaya eased herself further into him.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she must have fallen asleep at some point, no matter how she wished they could have stayed in a blissful mess of warmth, lips, tongue and teeth.

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