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#if your name is Becca leave leave leave
kaylinelizabeth4004 · 7 months
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Hii I loved your Alec fan fic sm any more Alec x f reader smut coming ?😭
Come As You Are
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A/N: of course more Alec is coming, I just need time love. This one is for my midsize girlies ❤️
Summary: The Reader is feeling insecure about herself and Alec wants to help
Tags: 18+ minors dni, insecurity and mentions of body dysmorphia and self hatred, praise kink, body worship, consensual possessive language, and some fluff :)
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The woman in front of her was thin and tall, with a beautiful head of curls and dark skin. Her eyes were shrewd as they took in DS Y/N Warner, standing in her frumpy suit with a notepad at the ready. Yet she certainly didn't look poorly on DI Alec Hardy, not that he would have noticed her little flirts. She angled her hips one way, answered his questions primarily, and smiled widely at his words, always looking right at him. If Y/N wasn't careful and reminding herself that she was on the clock, she had half a mind to kiss Alec right there and claim him. But she didn't.
DI Alec Hardy went to the car, and Y/N lingered for just a moment to clarify one of the points that got fuzzy.
"Right, and you work for Joan Topper Model Agency? Not to be confused with Topper Jane's Agency?" Y/N asked, checking the reference she had from the lady who'd referred them to this woman.
The woman nodded, her lips close to a sneer, "it's a very elite agency, Joan Topper."
"I'm sure."
The woman cocked her head to the side, "are you?"
DS Warner swallowed hard. She did not like not liking other women, it made her feel like a bad feminist. She should overthrow the ideas of women hurting other women and focus on the more particular idea that men made it up to make women dislike one another. And while that was very likely, it wasn't impossible for two things to exist at once. Men try to make women hate each other, and some women are just bitches. Not because they're women but because they're people.
And this woman, who couldn't possibly be over 21, with her gorgeous figure and curly hair, just happened to be one of those special humans. And it irked Y/N.
"You can't be over a size 4," the woman pressed. It was unclear if she meant you couldn't be over a size 4 in the agency, or in life. Her eyes lingered at Hardy's retreating form. "Men don't like it much."
DS Warner smiled tightly and nodded, walking back to the car and quickly getting in so she wouldn't have to see that woman again. Alec didn't notice the change in Y/N's mood, he wasn't always the best at that.
Instead of going to the station, they went back to Y/N's house. Alec hadn't actually moved in, but that was more of a title really. He stayed there nearly every night, had a section of the closet, and referred to it as home. They both knew that once they wrapped up this case, they would set aside a weekend and officially move in, but when cases got busy neither felt they could take even a day off. Work got in the way like that.
"Right, I'm going to pop in the shower then I'll be down to help," Y/N said, toeing off her shoes at the door.
"M'kay," Hardy answered with a wave of his hand, files in his arms.
She went up to the loo, started the shower and made quick work of her uniform. Her image in the mirror made her stop.
Normally, people described the moment before a shower as some of the most attractive. Moments when all of a sudden insecurities melt away and you could spend ages doing dance battles with yourself. This was not one of those days for Y/N. Maybe it was the insecurities she already had buried beneath the surface, maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the woman who had subtly insulted her appearance, but whatever the cause she found she hated what she saw.
Y/N always felt a little trapped when she expressed her insecurities to friends. She couldn't say she was thin, because she wasn't. But she couldn't say she was fat, because she wasn't. She was an awkward middle ground that certainly didn't feel sexy. Her thighs touched when she stood, covered in little stretch marks and led to a small bush she tried to trim but it always looked wrong. Along her boobs there were stretch marks like purple tiger stripes, and she had small red bumps she couldn't explain. Of course in between the two lied the worst of the worst, a belly just bloated enough to look pregnant when she very much wasn't. Nope, Y/N was not a fan of this body.
Her cheeks flushed with emotion and the heat of the shower, and she tried to ignore it as she got in and scrubbed off the day. Her hair was clean so she left it up and tried to calm herself when she noticed her efforts were too harsh. God damn it, this was not what she had intended.
Not long after she joined Hardy at the kitchen table, sipping her hot chocolate he'd made, and pouring over the case files. Her mind began to wander but she was intent on stopping it.
"You alright?" Alec's thick Scottish accent broke her from the bank's reports, and it was among the first words he'd spoken all evening.
"Y-yeah," she said, not quite knowing what he was referring to. "Why?"
"You don't seem right."
Y/N didn't know how to respond, so she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm ... fine?"
He narrowed his eyes. Alec Hardy felt like he was in a bit of a limbo at the moment. His instinct was telling him that something was bothering Y/N, she seemed sad and distant. However, Alec was not known for having the best instinct with people and their feelings. He couldn't tell if he should leave it or press on. But it was DI Alec Hardy and he wasn't a fan of lying. "After that last interview you've gone funky."
If Y/N wasn't so uncomfortable trying to think of how to not expose this lame part of herself to Alec, she'd have focused on him using the word funky. "I didn't like her much."
"Did she say something?"
"More or less."
"Warner stop evading the question and tell me what's wrong." His voice was intense as he spoke, chocolate eyes imploring.
"I don’t like my body, I'm ugly," she said quickly, as though it would take away everything else.
Alec blinked, "wot?"
"I'm ugly and fat, Alec."
DI Alec Hardy did not know a lot of things. He was shit at expressing emotions and understanding others, he did not understand social media, thought scotch eggs were gross, had a temper, and was shit at accepting help. But he knew one thing. His Y/N was not ugly.
"No you're not." She laughed bitterly and looked away. He said it louder, his tone more stern. "Y/N you are not ugly and you're not fat."
Y/N's throat was tight as she said, "thanks Alec." She didn't mean it, they both knew she didn't mean it.
"Y/N-"
"It's fine, can just get on with it?" She snapped, her voice a hair away from a yell. Alec saw her retreat further into herself. "Sorry."
He sighed, closing his eyes to try and make his thinking clearer. Alec was proper rubbish at dealing with any of this. But then he had any idea, an idea she probably didn't expect. The detective stood up and walked towards the stairs.
His ever inquisitive Y/N craned her neck to watch as he went up the steps. He was impressed she managed to last a full minute without following after him, in which time he removed his jacket and shoes, before she appeared in the bedroom door frame with a questioning look on her face.
"C'mhere."
She did, though her steps were slow as she watched him with a shrewd eye. He took her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. Alec's hands were always calloused and he never knew why, as he didn't do much physical labor. She liked how they felt.
Alec brought her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on each of them, "I love your hands."
He could see the little flush on her cheeks start up, but she didn't say anything else. Alec went to the edge of the bed, bringing her to sit between his legs, his chest up against her back. His hands ran up her arms, "I love that when I do that you get goose flesh."
"Alec what're you doing?"
"You've got lovely arms, lovely shoulders." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin of both. Then Alec pointed a finger in front of them, towards the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. They painted a lovely picture, a woman held by her man as he lavished soft touches on her. He planned to make the picture prettier. Though he wasn't always confident in sex, he was confident that he loved Y/N and that her self image was wrong. And that confidence overrode all other feelings of inadequacy.
"Alec..." she didn't know what to say. She had a feeling she knew what he was up to and she didn't know if she could handle it. He was being awfully sweet. And the scratch of his beard made her sigh. His fingers came to the straps of her flimsy, pajama tank top, pulling them until they snapped back on her skin.
In the mirror, Alec glanced up and made eye contact with her. His face was kind, tired but not of her. His hair was dark and mused, his eyes so chocolate it hurt to look at. And his freckles, the most wonderful part of the man was the freckles that ran along his face as though he never left the sun as a child. She nodded slightly, knowing that he was asking for permission.
The straps fell down, and Alec pushed the top down until her breasts fell from them, heavy and heaving against her chest. Almost instantly she felt a growing hardness against her bum, and she flushed incredulously. His hands came round and held her breasts, letting them overflow in his touch.
Throughout their entire relationship, Alec was not one who would just speak. He was the silent brooding type. The kind of guy who grunted when he asked if he fancied a pint - the answer was always no, he didn't drink. But Alec knew Y/N loved his voice, she called it sexy and he'd caught her getting off to a voicemail of his once. Whenever he got loud in the office, had to yell at someone, he noticed the way her thighs would clench and her cheeks flush. So while he was most certainly clunky at it, he tried his best to speak through his thoughts for her, hoping it could help her get to him.
"They’re one of my favorite bits of you," he murmured, his voice suddenly throaty as though he was struggling to speak with the sight of your breasts out and about.
He pressed them together, showing the deep line of her cleavage. "Don't get that on just anyone, now do ya?"
Y/N wanted to believe him, to look in the mirror and see a creature that was as attractive and he believed, but she just couldn't. Her words were soft but they were there as she said, "I have stretch marks and bumps."
Alec's brow furrowed and he held her chest tighter before letting them fall back. He was fully hard now and didn't shy away from letting her feel the affect she had on him.
"No one can expect your skin to remain the same your whole life. Doesn’t make it ugly." He said, kiss the junction between her neck and shoulder. She leaned her head back into him, letting herself feeling those beautifully calloused hands as they teased at her nipples, those soft lips kissing her skin.
He slowly dragged the tank top down until it met the waistband of her shorts. She did not look down to see the image in the mirror, this was not the body part she wanted to see. His hands were featherlight as they travelled down her abdomen, running his fingers along the rolls of her skin. The thought alone made her want to cry. Alec let out a breath, "you're so fucking soft."
That was not quite what she wanted to hear, soft wasn’t a word she felt was a good thing. Though that hadn't been his intention, Alec thought soft was one of the best things a body could be. He tried again, bringing his hands to her hips, "I love your belly. It's cute."
"It's not sexy."
"Fuck yeah it is," he argued. Alec pulled away from her and went to kneel in front of the bed. He spread her legs and went on his knees, putting his face right at her chest, which he noticed right away. Hardy brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, and he blew out a breath. She was a vision, leaned back, heavy breasts on full display and legs spread like a goddess.
He pressed a kiss in between her breasts, letting his tongue nip out to taste her skin. She giggled and said, "Alec!"
He brought his mouth down to her stomach, kissing each roll and holding her tightly. His beard itched and cause a pink rash to form, but she didn't have the urge to fight it. All along her abdomen, DI Alec Hardy peppered hot, wet kisses with nips of teeth. Then he growled softly, turning to see the mirror and force her to see what he saw. A stomach with small little love bites. "I decide what I find sexy. And that's sexy."
She hadn't even realized that she had started crying until it dripped down her face. It wasn't a sad tear, not really. It was more an overwhelming realization that Alec wasn't messing about, he wasn't saying this because he loved her. As his hands ran up her legs, prickly from unshaven hairs, he kissed and growled against her skin with the kindest love she'd felt. And she gladly let him remove her panties and shorts until she was bare, spread for him.
"I love your breasts and I love your belly, but these are some of my favorites," Alec said and he moved her thighs to sit on his shoulders. He bit at her thighs, lowering his kiss with each moment. Then he was there at the apex of her legs, with her slightly hairy, fully glistening cunt. His hot breath hit her as he murmured, "hey darling."
She shuddered, her body involuntarily moving to the sound of his voice. She had to stop the yelp that tried to escape when he extended his tongue and licked her bottom to top.
“I love that you’re so responsive down here,” Alec said between peppered kisses, letting his teeth ever so softly graze across her clit before sliding his tongue into her opening. Her muscles clenched, thighs beginning to shake as he lavished her. “I love the taste of you.”
He moved up, letting his beard scratch along her inner thighs in the way he knew she liked. Alec brought a careful finger to her opening, sliding it in with ease. She started to grind against it, hips bucking to meet his tongue as he began proper work on her clit. His fingers were long as they pumped in and out, curling i side her in the way that made her gasp. He laughed against her, he fucking laughed. A deep chuckle that radiated through her body, sending her arousal through the roof until her thighs were clamped round his head.
“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against her. But she heard it, and practically shoved him into her. Then Alec said, “you look so beautiful, you’re doing so good love. I’m so proud of my girl.”
Y/N cried out as she came, her body convulsing with each wave. It was positively impossible to describe, a kind of hazy pleasure that takes you from this world until you’re left panting on a bed, wondering how your antisocial detective boyfriend learned to do all of that. Her legs spasmed, squeezing against him in the way he adored.
Alec eased her through it, his kisses soft and messy. Her juices covered his face, were in his beard, but he seemed to proudly display her. Her thighs were going to be red from beard rash and covered in little love bites, some more possessive than others and she relished them all.
“Such a beautiful darling,” Alec said, rising slowly as he moved up her body. “I love your body, it’s bloody sexy is what it is. But my favorite part, yes even more than your breasts, is your face.”
Then he leaned in and kissed her, he kissed her with everything he had. It was rhat desperate, dizzying sort of kiss where words went unspoken but understood. She sighed, crying but now it wasn’t a hatred. Just like she realized earlier, and now it seemed to sink, Alec loved her regardless. He didn’t just put up with insecurities, he fought to fight them with her and show her what he saw. She might not see it yet, but to know that someone like him had eyes like that was comforting.
He tasted of her, of her musk and sweat and sex, and she found it embarrassingly arousing to know it was her wetness that did this to him.
Alec came up to the bed quickly, getting in the same position from earlier. Him behind her with her body in between his legs. Alex brought her to lean on him so her neck was ready for biting, “I fucking love your neck.”
“Bloody vampire!” She laughed.
Alec chuckled, bring his hands down her sides to grip her thighs. “That so?” With a strong yet gentle touch, he spread her thighs wide enough to rest on his, locking her in place.
“Alec I need you…”
“Oh what a pretty picture you make,” Alec whispered along her skin as he removed his cock from his trousers, going under her arse to tease at her opening. “Oh look at you, you’re gorgeous. My beautiful angel grinding against my cock, spread for the world to see. Perhaps another day. Shall I show you just how lovely you are, darling?”
Fuck. For someone who’d not done much dirty talk, he was damn good at it. She whined for him to take her, and he happily obliged, sinking into her with a slow thrust.
He let out a hiss at the feeling of her taut muscles clenching around him, holding him in place as though she couldn’t hear to lose him. She gasped the fullness, relishing in it and grinding just enough to cause Alec to make a guttural sound.
“You keep goin like that Angel and I won’t last much longer.”
“I don’t want you to,” she said, moving her hips again.
That movement broke Alec. He kept one hand tight on her hip, the other snaking down her body to start desperate ministrations on her clit. He thrust into her with a fury, bucking his hips to get as deep as he can. Y/N groaned, shocked at how quickly he was bringing her to climax.
“Come in me,” she said between breathy sighs. “Make me yours.”
Something in that sent the man wild. He stood, quickly helping prop Y/N up doggy style on the bed, and began to truly fuck her the way they both intended. They were so close to climax, his strokes uneven and wild, her clit buzzing with life.
“Say it again, angel. Tell me to make you mine.”
“I’m yours,” she groaned. “Come in me, I need you. I’m yours, make me yours.”
And he did, falling slightly into her and having to support himself on the mattress. He groaned loudly, those freckles flushing. But he knew she hadn’t come again, and he kept himself inside her as he leaned down, “now, any man you ever fuck you’ll know I’m here. You’re mine, angel. My darling.”
With a flick of his wrist, she came undone.
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ghostlywhiskey · 4 months
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“oh, come on,” your mother pleads on the other end of the phone. the majority of the phone call thus far revolving around the fact you broke the news about seeing someone new. and in motherly fashion, she immediately started asking away about his name, age, occupation, and everything in between. but of course, the main question and request she had was: can you send me pictures?
“mom,” you sigh as you move around your apartment with her on speaker as you tidy up. “you’ll meet him when i bring him for dinner this weekend.”
it wasn’t that you had a lack of photos or anything, but you knew your mother better than anyone else. the second you send those photos, it would be sent to family members, the neighbors that knew you since birth, and her close friends.
“please?” she begged again, which immediately caused you to accept defeat. you'd never hear the end of it.
quickly selecting two photos from your camera roll, you sent them over to her and quietly mumbled that she should have gotten them.
“oh, sweetheart,” it was practically a squeal from her end, the sound of her typing catching your attention as well. those photos were about to be shared with nearly everyone she knew. “he’s so handsome. how old did you say he was again?”
sighing quietly and away from your phone to avoid her hearing, you politely figure a way to end the call. “i love you, but i have to go. promise you can ask all the questions you want when we come for dinner.” when the words leave your mouth, you realize you’ll regret them when dinner actually happens.
and its later that night when your phone rings, your body sat on price’s lap. his hands reach to hold your head in place to prevent you from pulling away, mumbling to let it just go to voicemail. tugging your head away, you pull from the kiss and see 'aunt rebecca' lighting up your phone screen; your finger quickly presses the accept call button as you sit upright on price's lap.
"hi aunt becca," you speak into the phone, eyes glancing up at the ceiling briefly before looking back down at price. his hands resting on your thighs to give them a gentle squeeze before moving them up and down soothingly while you take the call.
"your mother told me about your new boyfriend!" her exclaim blaring through the phone speaker, and you can't help but press a hand to your forehead and drag it down.
"did she? i'm assuming she sent you photos too."
"darling, you better hold onto that one," she cooed, her excitement for your new relationship evident and praise loud enough for price to hear. a grin forming on his face indicating he can hear aunt becca's end of the call.
"photos?" price mouths up at you, hands giving your thighs another squeeze, but this time slightly higher up which causes you to squirm on his lap. your free hand reaches to gently swat at one of his hands, embarrassment running through your body. the poor man was the talk of your hometown thanks to your mom and he didn't even know.
"mhm," you hummed in response to your aunt, a forced chuckle vibrating your upper body. "i plan on it, aunt becca. listen, i'm a bit bus-"
"oh, he's right there, isn't he? i understand. i'll leave you two to be. tell him i said hello and i can't wait to meet him," she cheerily spoke, her goodbye quick and giving you no time to respond as the line went dead.
"so, photos?" this time, price spoke out loud and the grin still present on his face.
"shut up," you huffed, leaning back down and placing the phone on the nightstand before grabbing his face. lips quickly silencing him and anymore questions he might have.
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chaotic-mystery · 8 months
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (one shot)
Summary: Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. Joel isn’t too happy and has to punish you in the best way he knows how.
Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Mean!joel, swearing, arguing, brat tamer! If you squint, drinking, teasing Joel, a slight comment about cheating but would never, rough!joel, spanking,choking,spitting, manhandling, sir!kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, pet names (little girl, little one, baby doll, Joel calls you a crazy bitch oNCE, etc) power dynamic, big girthy age gap (not specified but enough to where you call him old man) slight bullying of peepaw for forgetting stuff, rough sex. Let me know if I’m missing anything!
Word Count: 3K
This is 1000% based on this gif @worhols sent me 🖤 love u Becca
Even though your Saturday morning was filled with a shift at work, you couldn’t wait to get home to see your man and take all afternoon to get ready for your date at 7. Date night was far and in between now for you two, so some fun outside the house was what you were needing. Your key entered the lock on the front door and turned, pushing the door open to music echoing from the basement. 
The kitchen counter was covered in beer boxes and bottles of liquor, chips, and Joel’s case of poker. What the fuck?
“Joel, honey?” You called out and you could hear the thumping on the basement stairs from his boots getting louder as he got closer to the main floor. 
“Hey baby doll, what’s up? How was work?” The back of his hand wipes his forehead slowly, gathering all the sweat off of him. The look on your face was so telling that something was bothering you. 
“Work was fine, uh I’m wondering why there’s shit all over the counter like you’re going to have guys night in the basement?” You crossed your arms across your chest and met his eyes, his jaw slowing the gum chewing down as he thought carefully of what to say next. 
“Beeecause we’re playing poker tonight in the basement…” It came out more as like a question and then it became apparent to you he completely forgot about your date night. 
You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, “Joel…we were supposed to have a date tonight..did you not remember?”
For such a tan man, you didn’t think he could turn so pale with shock. His hands met his hips and he sighed, looking down at his boots. 
“Darlin’ listen I- I’m sorry I forgot we had plans. Tommy asked if we could do it here and it slipped my mind about date night tonight.” Those beautiful brown eyes found yours once more and made your body shiver with sadness and anger. “How did you forget when I’ve been reminding you all week? Jesus Christ, you don’t listen to me, old man.” You turned and started to take off your jacket, not wanting to say anymore than what you already have. 
“Watch your fuckin’ tone with me little girl. I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want me to do?”
“Nothing, Joel. I don’t want you to do anything except go down there and have a fun time with your friends and play your stupid fucking game. I should ask one of them to take me out because if you can’t remember a simple date, maybe they can show me a better time.” The smartass tone was dripping off your words and it only heated the situation more.
“What the hell did you just say?” His head cocked to the side to make sure he heard you correctly. The smirk on your face only made him more irritated and he was just about to ask you to repeat yourself when he was cut off by the doorbell ringing.
“Saved by the bell, go figure.” You muttered at him and went to open the door leaving Joel standing there in a mix of emotions. You’d never in a million years date his friends but you just wanted to get a rise from him. It was only fair he was in a shitty mood after putting you in one.
You greeted them all with small ‘hellos’ and smiles, Tommy engulfing you in a hug. 
“Are you playin’ poker with us tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he releases you from his arms, walking to Joel and hits his arm lightly. Joel is still clearly caught off guard from your snappy digs and doesn’t say anything to anyone. 
“Oh, no. No poker for me. Joel forgot to mention it to me, guess that age is starting to catch up to him, huh?” You joke, putting the clean dishes away that were still in the strainer. All the guys laugh and Tommy nudges Joel right in his side with a stupid grin on his face. 
“You just gonna take that from her? Man you’re soft now.” He says to Joel and laughs again. Joel looks up at you and burns imaginary holes into your back from staring so hard. “S’alright, she’s jus’ being a brat right now. Why don’t you guys grab the shit from the counter and we’ll start soon?” Joel asks and nods to the countertop in front of you as you stand against the cabinets and squint at him. They grab the stuff and start to head down, a few of them and Tommy hanging back to wait for Joel. 
He walks to you and grabs your wrist by your hip and squeezes it, whispering in your ear, “Knock it off. Now.” 
You snatch your wrist from him and he places a rough kiss on your cheek, barely pressing his lips to your skin. He was pissed off at you for even entertaining that stupid idea of you and his friends to him. 
“Yes, sir.” He clocked your sarcasm instantly and glared at you. Your eyes met his only for a moment as he turned around on his heel and headed to the basement. With a short moment he disappears down the stairs and you’re left sulking in your emotions. This wasn’t the first time he forgot date night, this was actually the fourth. If Joel thought he could start to get comfortable and not put in so much effort for taking you out anymore, boy did he have another thing coming. 
“Fuckin’ asshole.” you mumble to yourself and clean up the mess he left of grocery bags and receipts. 
After about an hour cleaning up the main floor and having to listen to Joel's laugh carry up the stairs and into your ears, you had enough. If he wanted to play, you could play too.
Going to your shared bedroom, you start going through his closet and grab one of his old white t-shirts he had made up for work years ago. Their logo on the back left more room in the front to see everything under it. Slipping on your shortest pajama shorts and hiking them up just under your ass, you giggled at yourself in the mirror and almost changed your mind when you noticed your dress hanging in your closet that you planned to wear tonight. With the sunset slowly turning blue for the night, that burning fire in you started to reignite. 
You make your way slowly down the steps with the laundry basket tucked into your side, clearly your excuse to even go down there. The men were circled around the table, music still blaring and the string lights glittering the ceiling. “No no no, so then I told her to stop usin’ her teeth, it-” You cleared your throat and Tommy shut up quickly, turning around to face you. Joel didn’t even bother to look up until they greeted you, much different than earlier now that you were half dressed. His eyes were zeroed on on your body, his nostrils flared and the cards being held in his hands slowly started to bend. 
“Don’t mind me, just here to do some laundry before I go to bed.” That was a bold face lie. Joel knew you weren’t going to sleep. He also knew you weren’t down here to do laundry, you hated doing laundry. 
“All good, girl. You’re no bother to us.” James said, the one who had been eyeing you since you tiptoed down here. 
You opened the dryer to empty it in the laundry basket, bending over more and more with each scoop inside to get clothes out. Joel coughed loudly when he noticed what you were doing and it made you jump, not expecting him to be so obnoxious with it. “You doin’ alright baby? Need another beer?” You ask a little too sweetly and he doesn’t blink once when you meet his gaze after standing up straight, a stupid smirk forming on your lips.
“Sure, f’you wanna get me one.” He grumbled. 
You wandered over to the small fridge in the corner with a piece of clothing tucked under your arm and grabbed a beer, walking over to him and cracking it open for him. He leaned to one side to really look at you, noticing that shitty grin plastered all over your face. 
“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t do nice things for you, baby?” You rhetorically asked and folded the pair of panties you shoved under your arm just a second ago. Everyone's eyes fell onto what little fabric there was of the bejeweled thong that said ‘Angel’ on the front.
Joel was shooting daggers at you and you knew how much you were getting under his skin at this point. You took a seat on his lap and looked at his cards, not once looking at him. “All in” James says as he pushes his chips to the middle and his eyes wander up your chest. James was older than Joel and not that good looking. It wasn’t surprising he took a liking to you since he’s cheated on his wife three times now. The other guys were out and it was just between Joel and James. Ironic. 
“You’re bluffin’ you sorry bastard.” Joel chuckles and lays down his cards, straight flush. 
James groaned and tossed his cards in the middle and you looked to see a full house. You jump off Joel's lap and bounce up and down cheering for him, genuinely happy he won. What you forgot about was your boobs were also bouncing up and down. “Alright, that’s it. Guys, I’ll be back in a second. Start over without me and don’t you fuckin’ steal any chips from me.” He states and grabs the laundry basket off the ground, your arm in his other hand and drags you up the stairs. Fuck. Too far.
He marches up all the way to your room and tosses you facedown on the bed, panting from anger. “What the fuck was that, little one? Hm?” You don’t move as he rips off your shorts to expose the white panties covering your ass. 
“What? I was just having fun, Joel.” You snap back and brush your hair from your face to look at him. His jaw clenched together as he nodded once, rubbing the stubble on his chin. 
“Ya know baby, somethin’ just tells me that isn’t the complete truth.“You wanted male attention so bad you were whorin’ yourself around down there in front of anyone who’d look at you for 5 fuckin’ seconds.” His belt was beginning to come undone and you knew what was going to happen. “Joel..baby, please I’m sorry I-”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. Stay still. Since I’m such an old man and can’t remember jack shit, count for me baby. If you fuck up, I’ll start over.” He straddles the back of your thighs and moves your panties up out of the way, smacking your ass hard. 
“O-one.” A grunt leaves his mouth after you start counting. His big hand comes down again, smacking the same spot, already red. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering at the pain.
“Two-o.” Your voice shutters. 
Joel’s hand collides with your ass cheek once more. “You’ll learn one of these times not to be a smart ass to me, baby doll.”
“Fuck, Joel- three.” You can feel the welt starting to form. 
You can hear him laughing behind you as he anchors you to the bed more, the pain making your ears ring. Joel spanks you again, the roughest he’s done it yet. 
Your mouth drops in agony and tears start to fall down your face. 
“F-fou-r.” The silent sobs slowly start to leave your lips. 
His other hand comes by your face and ever so gently wipes the tears spilling from your pretty eyes and down your cheeks.
“Cryin’ won’t get you out of this baby girl. You wanted to act like a badass, take the punishment that follows. Got it?”
You couldn’t muster up anything other than, “Y-yes.” 
“Yes, what? Say it.” 
You swallowed harshly and took a deep breath before answering.
“Yes, sir.” 
The hot sensation on your ass cheek was spreading all over your body, the sting from his hand cracking your flesh again made you wince, begging for him to stop. 
“Ahh-five.” You seemed to have been losing your voice, only able to squeak out the number rattling in your brain. 
Instead of cracking you again, Joel rubs where he’s been spanking you and groans. 
“Have you learned your lesson you fuckin’ brat? Gonna be a good girl for me now?” He leans down and whispers in your ear.
You lay there still and unable to speak, a small nod was the only way you could answer. Joel reaches in front of your face and clears your vision of your hair and kisses your cheek roughly. “I dunno princess, think I might have to punish you some more.” His evil chuckle vibrated against your cheek as he kissed it again. 
Without a single word more, Joel laid over the top of you with your arms pinned against your back and you began to wiggle. 
“Take this fuckin’ cock baby. You want attention so bad, so stupid for cock, well here it is. Stay still.” He yanks down your panties and spits on his fingers before shoving his hand between your thighs as you squirm, his fingers starting at your soaking wet cunt all the way back to your asshole. 
The pre-cum leaking from the slightly swollen red tip was spread around the head before Joel rammed his cock so far inside your aching entrance. You mule out and he covers your mouth roughly, yanking you against his chest. 
“Shut the fuck up, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you. Shut that pretty mouth up before I put it to use.” He growls and starts to thrust inside you, ramming into your cervix in no time. The rough hold on your mouth makes your cries and moans so muffled but just audible enough for Joel to hear. 
“So damn wet for me princess, knew you like when I spank ya like that. Such a nasty little thing f’me. Think those assholes downstairs could fuck you like I do?” A rough kiss against your neck makes your eyes roll back and whine out, needing him to split you open from the inside. His calloused hand still covers your mouth and you shake your head in disagreement. 
“Use your big girl words baby.” Joel grunts and uncovers your mouth, grabbing your waist roughly and thrusts into you harder. 
You whimper and bite your lip and tilt your head back, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that were hungry for you. “No, sir. I don’t think they could ever fuck me the way you do. Your big fucking dick ramming into me and making me scream while you try to fit the whole thing inside me.” You could see your words were getting him somewhere, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. 
He digs his fingers into the skin on your hip more and pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours. Joel was a grunter and wow did it turn you on. His teeth clenched, he moans your name and cusses at the end of it, tossing his head back to keep himself together. 
“I would’ve taken you right on that damn poker table and made you suck my cock in front of them if you woulda kept it up baby. You wanna act like a whore in front of ‘em, I’ll treat you like one. Would you’ve wanted to suck my cock with them watchin’?” He asks, pinching your nipple under his work shirt that was stuck to your body. 
“I would’ve done whatever you wanted, sir. I promise, sir I will do anything for you.”
He growls and bites your earlobe teasingly before licking it and the shell of your ear.
“You’re a crazy little bitch for me aren’t ya?”
“I-I’m so close sir, fuck don’t stop.” You whine and he shoves your head down into the bed, groaning loudly. 
“No baby, bad girls don’t get to cum. You better not or I’ll spank you harder than before. D’you want me to spank you much harder than the last time, angel?” Your body was aching to cum, the mascara you applied hours ago now smeared and running down your cheeks. 
“No, sir.” The tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your orgasm just sitting in your stomach wanting to be released all over Joel’s cock. 
He groans louder and pushes your head down to keep still while he drives his cock balls deep in you, slowing up as he’s bracing himself for the end of his fun. 
Joel gives your ass a few more good smacks and you have to squeeze your legs shut to keep yourself from cumming. He wasn’t fair for making you hold it, he liked seeing you helpless. 
“Gonna fill this little pussy full so you don’t forget who you belong to, you got that?” His hand wraps around your throat as he engulfs you in his arms, fucking you sloppy until he’s panting like a dog in your ear. “Fuck baby doll-fuck- I’m gonna-a cum-ah-fuc-” Joel’s hot stream shoots inside you as he grunts loudly, grabbing a handful of your hair in the midst of fucking his load deep in your hole. 
Your pussy squelches and you can feel your clit just screaming to get some attention, some relief. Joel's breaths regulate once more and he lays there behind you kissing your shoulder and back softly. “Maybe next time you won’t be a brat huh?” He chuckles and gets up to go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for you. He cleans you up and your eyes get heavy, sleep creeping up on you. Joel kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, “Get some rest baby. I’ll be back up soon. Maybe I’ll let you cum then.” 
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waywardcrow · 4 months
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All eyes on us.
Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.
Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.
TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.
Part of the Yours to lose series.
Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.
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Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.
The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.
Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.
How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?
A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.
“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.
“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”
“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”
She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.
“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”
Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.
“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?
Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.
“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.
Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.
“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.
“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.
Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.
“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.
“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.
Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.
True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.
“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.
The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.
Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.
“I love you, topolina”
“Love you too, Tony”
The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.
She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-
Bells stopped herself.
It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.
Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.
The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.
“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.
With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.
A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.
She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.
I'd do bad things with you >>>
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Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:
-topolina: Little mouse.
-signorina: Miss.
If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?
Love, Lily.
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daydreamingleclerc · 1 year
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corrupt // mason mount
in which; he’s the university’s superstar sports player, and you’re just an innocent little bookworm. he walks you home one night after commotion in the street and you can’t help but offer him inside.
includes; corruption kink, uncomfortable cat calling, master manipulation, excessive usage of pet names (it gets annoying, sorry), dom!mason, sub!reader, foul language, fingering, oral (m, f rec), choking, protected sex, squirting, swearing, a sprinkle of CNC.
i was listening to sk8er boi by avril lavigne and it spiraled into this. i’m not sorry. thanks @landopeaches for helping me w all the ideas and being there to lust over mason with throughout the process <3
this is filthy. and just under 10K words. please read at your own risk. don’t say i didn’t want you.
22:04. 
the library didn’t normally stay open this late on friday nights, especially during the week of varsity, but you had a way with words and a very appreciated knack for batting your eyelashes.  
“i think it’s-” 
“-ssh, i'm writing,” you held a hand up to your housemate and best friend, becca, as you finished your train of thought before your new column ultimately came crashing to a halt, “okay, continue.”  
she sat beside you, flicking through a book she clearly had no interest in. she’d given up on her sociology assignment long ago, as had savannah, who was now half asleep on one of the sofa’s further down the room. aside from the odd one or two chess club players downstairs, you were the only three in there.  
“i think it’s probably a good idea for us to get going,” becca hummed, and much to your distaste, savannah had never been happier. “it’s ten p.m on a friday night, y/n, why don’t we all go pick up some food and watch a movie?”  
savannah had already gotten her jacket on and slipped her bag over her shoulder. she didn’t need anymore persuasion.  
“you guys go ahead,” you responded, wiggling with the mouse of your laptop as the screen dimmed, “i’ll catch up soon, i just have to finish this section of next weeks column,” becca scowled at you and before she could open her mouth, you eased her racing thoughts, “becca, i'll be fine. just pick me something and i'll pay you back later. i promise i'll be home before eleven.”  
the house that the three of you lived in with two of your other housemates was only a short walk away from campus and that gave you roughly forty minutes to finish up this segment. savannah yawned and becca still looked unimpressed.  
“you’d better be,” she picked her bag up off the back of her chair and slid it on her shoulder. she left a kiss on the top of your head, “because if i find your dead body in a back alley tomorrow morning, i'll kill you.”  
“charming,” savannah yawned. “love you, y/n.”  
“love you.” becca gave you a reluctant wave as she walked down the stairs of the library.  
you didn’t leave long after the girls and as you exited the warmth of the library and walked out into the crisp april chill, you regretted not bringing a thicker jacket to cocoon yourself as you walked home. blaring music came from all angles, as did the stares and wandering eyes.  
it was clear to all eyes you weren’t making your way to or from a party, dressed in a white sundress with cherries printed on the fabric and a white knitted cardigan. the pockets of the cardigan gaped with just your mobile phone, id and house keys inside them – you'd rented out a locker for the night to keep your laptop safe rather than dragging it back home and threatening to drop it.  
as you turned the corner onto the main loop of on-campus flats, your palms grew sweaty. you had to pass the flats and walk across the courtyard – which was full of spillover students itching to go out to either one of the clubs in town – to get to the back gate so you could slip out into the car park and cross into your estate to get home.  
a drunken body bumped into you as you crossed the road, and in turn your phone fell out of your hand as you tripped up the curb. you managed to steady yourself but unfortunately for you, your little stumble had caught the eye of a small group of drunken boys.  
“hey sugar, you look lost, fancy coming up here with us?”  
you didn’t recognize any of them, which was unusual considering they looked like the kind of boys who did sports, and you were a columnist in the university newspaper. you only did two sports columns a month, and the rest were focused on arts media – which was your degree, after all – because of that, you knew everybody.  
you knew you should’ve responded, told them to fuck off, or at least say no; but you didn’t. you froze. all you did was shake your head, and when they got closer your legs began to speed up.  
“hey, i was talking to you,” the same voice echoed, “don’t walk away from me when i'm just trying to have a conversation.”  
you fought off the urge to throw up. confrontation was something you despised, especially in front of a big crowd. “are you deaf?” the voice shouted, clearly agitated now, and you could hear it getting closer and closer until it was virtually behind you.  
mason, one of the school’s star ex-students and most glorified alumni noticed the commotion going on in the courtyard. luckily enough, he was stood with a friend who was smoking outside in a small congregation of people waiting to head to another party. he recognized you from the times you’d sat out on the pitch during games with your notepad and fluffy pink pen, that would always get dampened when the inevitable rain kicked in. he had a lot of time for you, even if you had no idea.  
“i’m offering you sex on a plate here, love-”  
“-gareth, piss off.”  
your heart felt like it was pounding out of your chest in that moment, and when a familiar face stepped out of the shadows, you let out a puff of air. your eyes caught mason’s, and immediately he rushed over to you.  
“y/n, are you okay?” his hand rested softly on your shoulder and massaged the hot flesh of your skin in an attempt to calm you. he waited for you to nod, and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “you’re freezing, do you want to borrow my jacket?”  
you shook your head and couldn’t help getting lost in the way he got the boys to mutter an apology and scramble away with their tails – dicks – between their legs.  
“where are you off to?”  
“uh, i, um,” you pinched the bridge of your nose and tried to compose your thoughts. in the three years you’d known mason, he’d never once touched you this way. a complimentary nod of the head after a quick post-match interview or a stolen glance in the hall followed by a soft smile were all the emotional bridges you’d built together. “i'm on my way home.”  
mason gestured to his friends to go on without him as he continued to walk with an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll walk you home, babe, okay?” he hooked his thumb under your chin and got you to look over at him, “i’ve just got to stop off at a party and show my face for ten minutes, whereabouts do you live?”  
“uh, forty-two goodwood drive.” your voice came out quieter than expected, and mason hummed, nodding his head when his lips formed a smile.  
“perfect, the parties at twenty-eight goodwood drive, we can stop off there for ten minutes, have a drink and then i can walk you to the door.”  
“we?” you frowned, “i'm not good with big crowds, mason.”  
he tutted, “that’s a lie, remember last year when you stood up in front of all the freshers with that powerpoint on how they could join the school newspaper?”  
you were shocked he remembered that, and it took you a minute to compute his words and formulate a response. “that was different, it was work related,” a knot formed between your eyebrows and that usual smirk had found its way back to mason’s face. it seemed to be a permanent feature. “honestly, mason. it's fine, i can walk myself home.”  
“no, darling. i've said i'll walk you home, please,” he stopped to look at you for a minute, and the knot between your eyebrows released as if subconsciously, “let me at least walk you home.”  
it flattered you that mason mount of all people was willing to walk you home. not even men you dated offered to do that. and he had almost begged you.  
“if you insist.”  
he patted your shoulder with the tips of his fingers and you began walking again, safe in the cage of his arm. 
“atta girl.”  
22:50 
it seemed to be a night of firsts.  
for the first time, the campus celebrities, as becca called them, had allowed you into their party as if you were one of their own. mason had poured you a drink and you held the red cup between both hands to hide the shakes. you wanted to say they’d come on because of the drunken cat calling, but you knew on the surface it was because mason was keeping you close.  
you were thankful, nobody really knew you at this party other than maybe two people, one of them being mason. it was clear you were uncomfortable; the push and shove of drunken antics wasn’t something you were particularly used to. you knew your limits, and at the grand old age of twenty-three, you expected everybody else to know theirs, too.   
it seemed, wherever mason was, a flock of people followed. he had his very own fan club. mason was already a student when you’d arrived, he'd graduated university from his sports science combined course a year early because he was scouted by a football agent and now he was off playing league football and crushing it, you had to admit. he still had a lot of friends here and came back semi-regularly to join in on the parties and sex. 
the pair of you sat down on a plush suede sofa, and he noticed you checking your watch for the time. you’d been twiddling your thumbs at this party as mason’s impromptu plus one for twenty-five minutes, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on your knees. you were supposed to be home in seven minutes.  
“whats up, princess?”  
your cheeks heated up at the use of his constant pet names, but this one seemed to take the cake. “i told my housemates i'd be back at the house for eleven.”  
when he flashed that signature mason smirk that you found yourself fawning over for months, the familiar knot formed between your eyebrows. “you can allow yourself to be a little bit late, darling,” mason’s expression then mimicked yours, “do they keep tabs on you like they own you or something?”  
his question took you by surprise. it was the first proper rude thing he’d said to you all night, and that’s how you expected him to be around you, but so far, he was everything but. “i’m kidding,” he suppressed a chuckle and scooted closer, “just tell them you’re gonna be a little late, babe. don't worry, you’re safe with me.”  
he shot you a wink, and it sent butterflies swarming around your body and wetness pooling in your underwear. this was probably the most turned on a man had ever made you, and he hadn’t even touched you, or said anything remotely sexual. 
before mason could open his mouth, a boy you vaguely recognized as someone from the hockey team slid over and sat on the corner of the coffee table. immediately, they got into conversation, and you found yourself once again admiring the way he held himself. you snapped out of it almost instantly. 
“who's the girl then, mase? got yourself a new toy?” 
“his new what?”  
“got myself a new what?”  
yours and mason’s questions overlapped, and immediately his friend could sense that what he said was wrong. he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or apologize, and then he saw mason’s expression and chose the latter. he scurried off, and you placed your cup down on the coffee table in front of you.  
“i think i should just go,” as you went to get up, mason grabbed your wrist and you caught one another's eyes, “mason, please.”  
he pleaded with his eyes to get you to stay, “don’t listen to anything dom says, sweetheart,” mason scowled in his direction and dom couldn’t help but keep flickering his eyes over at the pair of you in regret, “he doesn’t know his brains from his balls, and that’s why he’s on the hockey team.”  
he pulled a laugh from your lips and it immediately put him at ease.  
“promise you won’t listen?” his hand brushed your knee, and you fought every inebriated urge you had to not pounce on him.  
“mhm, i promise, mason,” you smiled, placing your hand on top of his. he smiled and scooted closer ever so slightly, “thank you.”  
“good girl,” his words ignited a flame inside of your stomach, and the wet patch inside your underwear grew significantly. you'd never been called those words before, and he knew what he was doing when the knowing smirk grew. “would you like another drink?”  
“yes, please,” you squeezed your legs together when his fingers brushed closer as he stood up, and he knew how he made you feel within seconds. you grabbed his fingers as he lifted them from your leg. you looked so innocent he could’ve exploded. “don’t be too long, please.”  
“you’re so cute when you’re clingy,” he watched as your cheeks lit up in heat, “i'll only be over there. two minutes, tops.”  
eleven o'clock had been and gone. becca and savannah had tried to ring multiple times to stick their noses in and find out what was going on, but you’d be leaving soon, and once mason had walked you to the door, they’d be all yours to gossip with.  
you shifted in your spot, and tried to peel yourself off the sofa without distracting mason from his conversation with somebody you didn’t recognize at all, but it was unsuccessful. “where are you going, babe?”  
“i need to pee,” you shifted again, and got up successfully without mason stopping you. he finished his conversation abruptly and you almost rolled your eyes, “where are the toilets?”  
“i’ll take you.”  
“i don’t need you to be my bodyguard, mason. just tell me where the toilets are and i'll go on my own.”  
his lip quirked up into a hint of a smile. you got sassy when you’d had a drink. that boded well for him and his everlasting thoughts of you in compromising positions.  
“darling, with all due respect you don’t know anybody here and i don’t want you wandering,” he finished the dregs of his drink, “i'll take you and then we can leave, c’mon, give me your drink.”  
“why?”  
“because i don’t want people seeing you holding it and it getting spiked, c’mon.” 
you gave in rather easily and handed mason your half-full cup with a thoughtful smile. you hadn’t gone for a wee since before you left the library, and now you’d been holding it for a while it was something of a relief to be going. he took you to another bathroom, one in a less quiet part of the house. he had clearly been here multiple times before.  
“you’re not gonna come in with me too, are you?”  
“depends,” mason shrugged, “are you offering?”  
you swatted his arm with a friendly punch, even though a part of you wanted to say yes and have him take you then and there in the bathroom. the door unlocked and a couple walked out, hair in disarray and clothes mismatched. brilliant.  
“you just wait at the door, big guy.” 
it stank of weed and sex in the room as you homed in on your surroundings as you peed. what started out as a stressful night had soon become enjoyable, and all thoughts of anxiety you had before you arrived at the party had washed away. you couldn’t hear mason at the door, even though you wouldn’t have been able to anyway because of the thumping bass; but you half expected him to be gone by the time you opened the door.  
you wiped your hands on your dress and smoothed over your hair in the mirror. your mascara smudged in both corners of your eyes, and you cleaned it up, merging the outer smudges into your eyeliner. mason was stood with a soft smile on his face when you walked out, and you mimicked it, “i expected you to have found someone better to spend your evening with, thank you for waiting.” 
“better than you?” he handed you your cardigan, the one you didn’t even realize you were missing, and you slipped your arms into it, “impossible, darling.”  
you blushed again and covered your face with your hands, suppressing a delicate giggle from masons ears. he made sure the cardigan was on your shoulders, and a shiver trickled down your spine when he pulled your hair out, so it wasn’t trapped between fabrics.  
“okay princess, finish your drink,” he handed you the cup and you downed it in one, trusting him enough in that moment to know that he wouldn’t spike it, and he raised his eyebrows, impressed, “all in one, good girl.”  
your mind raced at the dirty scenario echoing through it, and heat pooled all over your body. you were honestly surprised you couldn’t feel your own slick on your thighs. nobody had ever made you feel like this before, and mason loved the hold he had on your achingly innocent persona. you subconsciously bit your lip and mason fought off a guttural moan.  
“what’s with that expression, darling, hm? was it something i said?”  
you opened your mouth to react, but he pinched your hip, laughed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders once again, the pair of you wandering down the hall like nobody's business. 
he checked the time on your watch as you walked, lifting up your wrist as if it were a feather, and pulled a faux shocked face at the time. “oh dear, sweetheart,” he tutted, “eleven eighteen, your owners will be waiting up for you.”  
you rolled your eyes at his jab, the second rude one of the night. one more and you’d be summoning up the courage to punch him in the face.  
“they aren’t my owners, mason. they're my friends and they care.”  
the two of you stepped out into the cold night air, your nipples hardening against the lace of your bra and scratching against the cotton of your dress. your thighs immediately came up in goosebumps and the cold was a nice juxtaposition to the heat pulsing your clit.  
“so you’ve never submitted to anyone, darling?” he asked, shoving his free hand in his jacket pocket, ignoring the crowds of people wandering the streets and girls throwing up in bushes, “let them take complete ownership of you? let yourself go?”  
his words shot straight to your core. you fumbled for a reply.  
“uh, no, i.. um, i don’t think so.”  
stupid reply.  
“you don’t think so? oh, sweetheart. you'd know if you did,” as you got closer to your house, a swarm of longing pulled at your chest and you yearned for him now, in a way you’d never yearned for anybody in your life. “but then again, you’ve never tried it with me.”  
the last part was muttered, and you could barely hear it.  
“what?” you whined, the short, abrupt question coming out in a far more sexual tone than necessary.  
“nothing for you to worry about darling,” he patted your cheek softly, “look, you’re home now.”  
you half expected him to fall back on his promise, to walk away now and leave you high and dry. to leave you to sort out the mess he’d created, but you’d yearn for more than just the touch of your own fingertips or the ripple of a vibrator. you just didn’t know how to ask him. 
he walked you right up to the door, as he said he would.  
“thank you, mason,” you smiled. everything inside of you screamed to ask if he wanted to come inside, but when you opened your mouth, you just found the question too overwhelming. “i... uh...” 
“what’s up darling?” he questioned, “don’t be shy. use your words.”  
he smirked at the way you shivered. there was that feeling between your legs. again.  
“do you... um. will you come in?”  
he couldn’t help but lean across to kiss you. your lips soft against his slightly rough ones, and your hands flew up to his chest and your palms rested on the warmth of his white shirt. he kissed by the book, exactly how you imagined he would, and when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and swiped his tongue along it, you yelped.  
you were too innocent, like bubble wrap left unpopped. he wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.  
his dick hardened in his jeans. 
“want me to make sure that you get into bed safe?” you nodded and his thumb brushed your bottom lip, and in a bold move you took it into your mouth and circled your tongue around it. you'd never done that to anybody in your life. it even shocked you.  
“god,” mason groaned, finding the doorhandle with his free hand, “such an obedient little girl, hm?”  
23:27 
when becca and savannah saw mason standing in their hallway with a playboy smirk dressed over his face and a charm they just couldn’t resist, they couldn’t quite believe it. it boded worse for you in the long run, because they now saw with their own eyes that he was standing in your hallway, and they would be pacing around the livingroom until he left in the early hours so they could finally get their answers. becca was on the netball team, so mason recognized her.  
“hey, becca,” he hummed, as effortlessly as ever. as if he didn’t just make out with you on your own damn porch. “still playing netball?”  
she towered over him, her five-foot twelve slim frame was the perfect one for netball and she used it to her advantage, even if she wasn’t that good at the sport.  
“mhm,” she nodded, snapping out of her trance for a minute. savannah was still simply stood next to becca in awe, “thanks for bringing y/n home.”  
“it was my pleasure,” he looked at you and smiled, and your entire body rocked with heat. “she’s asked me to stick around for an hour or two, if that’s okay with you two, of course?”  
you couldn’t help the little smirk that quipped at the corners of your mouth and you hid your face in his bicep. mason was playing into the joke he’d made earlier at becca and savannah being your owners. the pair of them nodded, and mason looked over at you.  
“where’s your bedroom, darling?”  
savannah almost choked when she heard the pet name.  
“uh, top floor on the left,” his hand ran down your arm and his fingers entwined with yours as he walked to the stairs, and once again you tugged on his fingers, “would you like some tea?”  
mason's mind raced. your innocence really wasn’t an act. he wanted to pity you, or patronize you, or build up an orgasm until it bubbled up inside of you and you squeaked and squealed and thrashed around in his arms until you begged him to let you cum. his dick grew again, but he just smiled.  
“sure, darling,” he squeezed your fingers, “milk and two sugars, please.”  
you nodded and watched as he walked straight up to the top floor of the house. you averted both becca and savannah’s eyes as you walked past them through into the kitchen. pizza boxes sat on the counter, with one unopened for you.  
“what the fuck was all that about?” savannah questioned.  
you unintentionally ignored her, to focused on drowning out the slick between your legs. nobody had ever made you feel this way, nobody had ever left you as needy or as desperate for sex as he had. in all fairness, you’d only had sex with one person, and it wasn’t even that good.  
becca snapped her fingers in front of your eyes and you zoned back into the conversation. you smiled.  
“oh, uh, he walked me home and we got to talking,” you shrugged as you pulled the milk from the fridge, “turns out we get on well, so i invited him in.”  
“go y/n,” savannah clapped her hands together, “finally got a sexu-” 
“-bye girls, thanks for the pizza!”  
as you juggled with two cups of tea and the box of unopened pizza, mason walked into your kitchen. he'd already made himself at home, it seemed, seeing as his jacket and shoes were back up in your bedroom. “need some help, princess?” he asked, and when the pet name arose again you blushed heavily, and mason took the pizza box from your hand, “see you girls later.”  
23:52 
“i’m so boring, aren’t i?”  
you asked him. you couldn’t help it.  
you were sat between his legs and watching a movie on your teeny tiny tv screen at the foot of your bed. mason's eyebrows furrowed and he stroked at the skin on your arm. he couldn’t help but kiss the back of your head.  
“not at all, darling. why do you say that?”  
you shrugged, too embarrassed to answer. sex never came easy to you, you were the stereotypical bookworm student. you stayed out of trouble, you did your assignments and handed them in way before they were due. you were co-editor of the student newspaper, for fucks sake. you weren't the kind of girl that brought home hot, sexy, god-like alumni into her bedroom on friday nights just for a hook up.  
mason knew that, and it was all part of the reason you enamored him.  
“i’m not... i just... i'm... frigid.”  
mason tutted and tucked some hair behind your ear, “you aren’t frigid, darling. you just need someone to loosen you up a little bit, someone to answer to, don’t you?”  
you felt his dick grow harder underneath you, and it sent a shiver up your spine. you nodded, and mason spun your head around, so you were looking at him. his breath was hot on your face and you heaved for a breath when his fingers found your thighs.  
“there’s so much i wish i could do to you, little one,” you gulped audibly, a shaky, hot breath, “but i won’t do it if you aren’t ready.”  
“w-what.. um, w-what do you want to do?”  
mason's fingers grazed higher and higher up your leg, and he was painstakingly close to the sticky slick on your inner high thighs.  
“i want to do so much to you, darling, but i fear if i tell you, you’ll break my heart,” his fingers grazed at the soaked cotton of your pants and he laughed lowly, “but then again, if i tell you, it might make you wetter than you have been all night.”  
you mewled when he dragged his finger between your folds over your underwear. you opened your mouth to ask him a question, but he shushed it with his free hand, bringing the tip of his index finger to the middle of your plump lips. “is this the first time you’ve been touched here, darling?” you shook your head. “yes? no? use your words.”  
“n-no, mason.”  
“you’re not a virgin?”  
“shockingly, no,” your sarcastic comment left mason pinching your clit over your underwear and you yelped, “i’ve had sex once before.”  
“just once?” he questioned, and watched the way your body writhed when he finally pushed the damp cotton aside to stroke your clit. he could’ve growled at the feeling of your pussy in his hand. “oh, darling, you’ve got so much to learn.”  
mason's fingers worked expertly on your clit, and you couldn’t help but widen your legs. he certainly found it with ease, which is more than you can say for the guy you lost your virginity to. you lifted your hips and mason helped you wriggle free from the cotton restraint, and his mouth was watering at the thought of your bare, naked pussy. he wanted to scoot around and lick it.  
“was he good, baby?” mason asked, lips nibbling along the outer shell of your ear. “did he touch your clit like this, hm? or did he -” with his free hand, mason rubbed at your nipples through your dress and bra, “- roll your nipples like this? hm?”  
you wriggled around and let his fingers explore your body, itching to let him touch you more. “n-no, mason. he didn’t touch me like this.”  
mason tutted, “come on, baby, what did he do?”  
“he used me to make himself feel good,” you hummed, getting more and more used to the fact that he was swirling your clit around with his fingers, “i didn’t enjoy anything.” 
“such a shame, darling. you're gonna be used to make me feel good, but i promise you’ll enjoy it because i know how to handle innocent little girls like you,” he kissed your neck, “i was hoping to be the first person to bury myself inside your pretty little cunt, but i'll just have to be the first to do everything else.” he chuckled lowly at the way your breath hitched, and when he slapped your clit it made you jolt.  
“did he ever make you cum?”  
you shook your head.  
“n-no, mason.”  
another clit slap.  
“why are you slapping me?” you pouted, “have i done something wrong?” 
the confusion was evident on your face. you couldn’t figure out why he was slapping you, and the crease between your eyebrows formed. mason’s hand moved from your chest to your chin and turned your face to his. “are you going to address me by my name like a good girl?”  
the crease deepened and mason couldn’t help but laugh at you, and you frowned.  
“w-what?”  
“are you going to be a good girl for daddy?” your heart almost jumped out of your chest. your eyes grew a shade darker with lust and mason didn’t go unnoticed. he slapped your pussy again. “answer, princess.”  
“d-daddy?” you questioned, and mason almost blew a load in his pants.  
“mhm, yes princess. understood?”  
you nodded your head. “yes, daddy. thank you, daddy.” 
he rolled his eyes and released a groan, unable to suppress it any longer, and now he could feel a wet patch of pre-cum forming in his pants. “fucking hell, babygirl, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?” he shifted, and moved so you were now sitting against the headboard and he was staring down at you. he got down to his knees, the way his breath hitched when he was face to face with your pussy made your back tingle. “do you want me to eat this pretty little cunt?”  
“uh.. uhm.. okay,” you hesitated. mason noticed and began to massage your thighs with his fingers, digging into the soft flesh. “i’ve never... um. nobody has ever...”  
“relax, princess, i'll make you feel good. it's all part of daddy’s job to look after his little girl.”  
a rush of blood swarmed to your clit and you moaned softly at his words. he was corrupting you already. he traced the cherries on the hem of your dress, “these are pretty fruits, baby, can you tell me what they are?”  
he began to kiss your inner thighs in that moment.  
“uhm, they’re cherries, d-daddy.”  
“mhm, well done darling,” you wriggled when his teeth sunk into the flesh of your thigh, but he soon soothed the sting when his tongue ran over it, and it formed a pretty mark of his teeth, “tell you what, princess. if anything gets too much – today, or ever – in one of these situations, you just say cherries, just like the ones on your pretty dress.” 
you nodded, but you were still confused. “why do i have to say cherries though?”  
“because, baby, sometimes your brain won’t be working properly and you’ll need a distinct word that means stop, do you understand?” you nodded again, and mason’s fingers traced your pussy again. he wasn’t looking at you now, his attention had been drawn to your clit, red and aching, but he was still talking. “it’s easier for daddy to pick up on that word rather than stop, baby, because sometimes i won’t be listening. i need to make sure you’re safe.”  
“w-why?” you could feel his fingers swirling around your inner lips and you fought every urge for a moan. 
“because, you’re my submissive, and as your dominant, i have a duty of care over you.”  
you shivered at that. your head was spinning so fast it felt like it was going to fall off. mason's tongue had darted out of his mouth and licked at your clit, you jolted, but he didn’t put it away. instead, wherever your hips dragged you, he followed, his lips never leaving your clit. his tongue flicked repetitively, and his lips suctioned around it, sucking at your clit as if he were drinking through a straw. 
as you wriggled, mason's arms caged your hips down onto the bed, so now you were unable to wriggle away and you cried out his name in a weak, pathetic little moan. he pulled off of your clit with a pop, “oh, babygirl,” he tutted, “you can do better than that for me, can’t you? i know you can.”  
he licked a teasing stripe up your pussy and delved around your hole, where his tongue slipped inside and you yelped, bucking your hips up into his face and crying out his name again. “oh, mason... oh.. fu- your tongue.. feels so good,” the sensation tingling away inside of you was one you’d never felt during sex before, and the pad of a tongue licking and lapping at your clit felt particularly strange. “oh.. god.”  
mason used his hands to part your lips further, allowing his face to be buried deeper into you and your hands sprung to his hair. he hummed against your clit as he licked, nibbled and swirled his tongue, and the pleasure was almost unbearable. he bumped your clit with his nose when his tongue slipped back inside you again, and raised his eyes so he was looking directly into yours. the contact was almost too much, and the butterflies were beginning to get overwhelming. your orgasm was fast approaching.  
he held your legs open further and pushed the hem of your dress up, so it rested at your bellybutton. you could see his nose and cheeks glistening with your wetness, and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach had begun to travel south.  
“d-d-daddy... i... i can... i'm all tingly... i think i'm gonna...”  
mason pulled away from you right as you felt like the dam was going to open, and you whined, thrashing around in protest. he raised an eyebrow, “you need to ask daddy for permission to cum, little one,” he slapped the inside of your thigh and you winced, biting down on your bottom lip, “because your pretty little cunt is his, and you need to ask for permission to use something you don’t own.”  
oh.  
he lay there, waiting patiently.  
“can i please cum, daddy?”  
mason was satisfied with your plea, at least for now. he wasn’t going to have you begging until you cried this time. “of course, princess,” he hummed, delving back into your pussy. you mewled and he mumbled against your clit, “daddy’s pretty little cunt.”  
with that, your orgasm hit you. you thrashed around at the feeling, lifting your hips off the bed. immediately, mason’s hands splayed under your bum, holding you up as he continued to eat like his last meal. you cried out, almost screaming at the sensation. becca always talked about her boyfriend doing this, and you never understood why she liked it so much – until now.  
you tapped at mason’s head when you couldn’t take it anymore, and he pulled off of your clit with a pop. his entire chin glistened, and it ignited a fire in your eyes. arousal seeped through your veins, and mason couldn’t help but laugh against your lips when you sat up and pulled him closer by the collar of his knitted jumper.  
in a bold move, your hand dropped to his crotch and you felt his dick, rock hard and straining his jeans. you blushed upon having the realisation that you’d never sucked anyone off before, and you were almost definitely about to suck off mason. that, and his dick felt fucking huge.  
“what’s up, little one?”  
mason pulled away from your lips and tucked the loose hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck. he hooked his hand under your cheek and lifted you up softly, looking deep into your eyes. there was a moment of peace, where he scanned your eyes for any discomfort, but you were determined to see it through.  
“it feels... big.”  
your cheeks felt hotter than the sahara desert by this point, and mason chuckled at your innocence.  
“do you think so, babygirl?” he questioned, and his fingers curled around yours and made you squeeze at it. he groaned at the contact. “should we see if you’re right, hm?”  
you nodded eagerly, and mason almost fainted when your eyes grew black with lust. he placed your hand firmly back into your lap, and he stood up to pull his shirt off. you almost drooled at the sight of his naked torso, and the tattoo’s scattered around it. he unlooped his belt effortlessly, and within seconds his jeans were tossed to the floor. his dick was so hard that the tip poked out from the waistband of his jeans, red and desperate for some attention.  
he kept his eyes on yours to gage your reaction as he pulled down his boxers. you were right. it was huge. and thick. it inflated mason’s ego to triple the size it already was, and he loved how easy you were becoming, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. he wanted to make you his, and by the end of the night, he would make sure you were the only girl that he was corrupting. 
“t-that’s supposed to fit... i-inside me?”  
“mhm,” mason’s hand jacked himself off as he stood up at the edge of the bed, your head at the perfect height to suck. “it will, baby, and it will hurt, but i'll make it fit, you haven’t got to worry about a thing,” he pinched your cheek and you subconsciously smiled. commotion went on outside your bedroom door, one of your housemates was sneaking along the landing, and it caught your attention, but mason pulled your head back to face him with his finger hooked under your chin, “it’s not gonna suck itself, darling.”  
you gulped. “i’ve... i haven’t... you're going to have to teach me, daddy.”   
mason had to stop jacking himself off and pause for a moment in fear of ejaculating all over your face at the sentence that just left your mouth.  
“okay, princess, but first you’ll need to take this off,” he ruffled the hem of your dress and you frowned, “don’t give me that look, babygirl. it's only fair.”  
you hooked your arms out of your bra and dress all in one, and mason helped you step out of it steadily. his breath hitched when he saw you naked, drinking in the sight of your naked body. you'd never looked more beautiful, and he’d never been so desperate to be buried inside of someone.  
he leaned down to kiss your lips, and then slid down onto the bed, so his head was at the pillows. you followed suite, kneeling down at his side. he guided your hand to his dick silently, and you giggled softly when he helped you move your hand up and down, “that’s good, baby,” he said, running his fingers up to your wrist to loosen the movement slightly, “now lean over so your mouth is hovering over it, and spit on the head.”  
“t-the head?”  
“the tip, baby, the tip,” mason chuckled at your innocence, and you did as he asked. spit hung from the tip of your outsplayed tongue and trickled down to the head of his penis. as you smeared it around with your hand, your thumb ran over the slit of his dick and he jolted, a groan tumbling from his lips. your eyes shot up to face him, looking like a dear in the headlights as you feared you did something wrong, but mason shook his head. “that’s good darling, so good. why don’t you – fuck – why don’t you try and take it in your mouth.”  
you leaned down, so your lips were millimeters from his dick, and took a deep breath. you’d always envisioned doing this, and who it would be with, and none of your fantasies could ever compare to this.  
your lips pursed around the head, taking just that into your mouth and looking up at mason through your eyelashes. he seemed to like that a lot judging by the way he looked down at you and nodded. “okay, little one, you’re doing such a good job,” he patted your head subconsciously, “now, alternate between bobbing your head, twisting your hand and running your tongue around the head. just get a feel for it, darling, okay? i don’t want to cum just yet.”  
you nodded, and much to your surprise you enjoyed the compromising position you had been put in. mason made it feel so easy, so comfortable, and it made your heart flutter and your pussy throb. you began to bob your head gradually, taking more and more in with every move. mason admired your innocence and every time he remembered that his dick was the first one you’d had inside your mouth – your sweet, innocent, virgin mouth – he wanted to bust a load.  
“oh god, yes, little one,” mason’s hand bunched your hair up in his hand out of habit, and you gagged around him as he thrusted up into your mouth ever so slightly, “you’re doing so well for me, got such a pretty little mouth.”  
you moaned, and the vibrations sent shockwaves up his dick and all over his body. he thrusted up into your mouth and you gagged again, your eyes watering at the sensation but you liked it. “play with my – fuck – play with my balls, baby, just squeeze them gently,” mason cooed, smoothing your cheeks with his free hand, and you did as you were told, halting the movements of your hand stroking his dick so you could use it to stabilize you as you fondled his balls. he groaned loudly, “fuuuck, baby. that's it, such a good little girl.”  
he thrusted up into your mouth again and this time spit came spluttering out of your mouth and landed along the prickly skin around his pubic bone. your eyes watered again, so much so that the tears soaked your eyelashes and mason lowered his hips. “you okay, baby? do you wanna stop?”  
you nodded sheepishly. mason's dick fell from your mouth and the tip rested at his bellybutton. he noticed your knotted eyebrows, “what’s up, darling?”  
“my mouth.. it tastes weird.” 
he chuckled and couldn’t believe how innocent you were.  
“that’s because it’s no longer a virgin mouth, little one. it's now forever tainted with the taste of my pre-cum,” he leaned over and kissed your lips, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, “you’re going to be tainted with my taste forever now, baby. never getting rid of me.”  
he used his strength to roll you over, so you were now laying with your head at the pillows. he admired how pretty you looked. anxiety pounded in your chest, and you suddenly got overwhelmed, but you knew it would pass, it was just nerves. mason noticed, and tucked some hair behind your ear.  
“do you remember your word, darling?”  
“cherries, daddy.”  
“good girl,” he leaned down to kiss your lips, “if you want daddy to stop, you need to use that word, understood?”  
“mhm,” you nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. he chuckled at your neediness. “there’s.. um... i have... in the bathroom cabinet.. there’s some... condoms.”  
“daddy’s shy little girl wants him to fuck her, hm?”  
you mewled underneath him and fought off a blush by buring your head in the pillows when his finger grazed between your folds, and you jolted at the sensitivity, “please, daddy, i... i... i need it. i need you.”  
mason fought back the urge to fuck you raw.  
“babygirl, listen to yourself beg for me,” he tutted, standing up and slipping on your dressing gown momentarily to go to the bathroom, “such a naughty little thing, hm? weren’t like this an hour ago. i've turned you into a little slut, haven’t i?”  
the last part of the sentence was partially shouted as he wandered into the bathroom you shared with another housemate, and you could’ve died there and then. you only hoped everyone else was minding their own damn business.  
he came back with a handful of condoms, and the dressing gown was tossed to the floor with the rest of the clothes. “go on, baby, say you’re daddy’s little slut,” he teased, “otherwise i'll leave you high and dry, begging for my cock all night.”  
your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth. mason stood there, cock on full display, waiting patiently. you took a breath, “you’ve turned me into a little slut, daddy.”  
he made a satisfied hum noise and ripped the condom open with ease. you watched as he rolled it on and he climbed back on the bed, the sheer touch of his skin on yours leaving you with goosebumps. his fingers ran through your folds again and your wetness was enough.  
his hand outstretched your leg, so it was out at an angle to the side while the other was bent at the knee draped over his shoulder. you moaned at the feeling of being poked and prodded so he could get you exactly how he wanted you.  
you squirmed with anticipation as mason guided himself to your pussy, and when he slipped inside you let out a strangled, desperate moan. every time you thought his dick was fully inside of you, you were proved wrong, and with the angle of your legs, he only penetrated you deeper. he groaned at your tightness and the way his dick seemed to slot perfectly inside you.  
“fuck, little one,” his pubic bone hit your skin and he successfully buried himself to the hilt inside of you. “your cunt is so wet and tight, fits me so well, like it was made for me.” 
you mewled at his words and attempted to buy your head in the pillows beside you but mason grabbed your chin with his hand and forced you to look at him above you. he pulled out and pushed back in the whole way once again. “don’t you ever look away,” his fingers squeezed at your cheeks and moved down your face until they gripped at your neck, “daddy always wants to see the way your eyes roll back when he hits -” mason raised his hips up so the angle of his hips changed ever so slightly and he smirked when your eyes rolled back with a moan of his name, “that spot. such a naughty little girl.” 
“mhm,” you mumbled, already feeling a pressure building between your hips, “your naughty little girl, daddy.” 
“fuckin’ right,” mason's fingers squeezed your neck in approval, “daddy’s dirty little girl, you’re filthy, aren’t you?” 
you could feel him hitting so deep inside of you and the way his hips slowed with each pull out had you on the verge of screaming. your headboard began to thud dully against the wall and you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn out moan.  
“gonna wake up the house if you keep moaning like a whore, baby,” mason cooed, pushing himself forward so the stretch in your legs began to sting and the angle of his dick grew deeper, “i can feel you clenching my dick, darling. such a tight little pussy.” 
your hands gripped at his shoulders and mason’s head dropped between your bodies so he could watch himself slipping in and out of your pussy. the angle of your body underneath him was driving him insane and he couldn’t help it when a moan slipped past his lips.  
the closer you got to an orgasm, the louder you became, and it only spurred mason on further. he was itching to get you cumming, and so when his fingers brushed your clit and you almost screamed in pleasure, he smirked. you were almost positive that savannah and becca could hear the entire thing from their rooms on the bottom floor.  
“d-daddy...”  
mason smiled, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “yes, little one?” 
“i’m gonna cum,” you cried, arching your back up off the bed, “please, daddy.”  
mason tutted. you were going to have to beg a lot better than that.  
“come on, darling, you can beg better than that,” he left a kiss to your jawline, “i know you turn into a mindless whore when you’re being fucked, but that was pathetic.”  
 you squeaked and clenched around his dick again. your body was in overdrive and with every thrust it felt like you were going to explode.  
“d-daddy... please,” you choked, throat running dry, “p-please, i need to cum, i'll do anything, p-please, daddy.” 
“you’ll do anything? oh, darling. i wouldn’t say something like that if you don’t mean it.”  
“please, i’m so close,” you were panting now, fighting off your orgasm with every passing second. mason leaned down to kiss your lips hotly, pulling your lip between his teeth and biting down so hard he almost drew blood, “please.”  
your begging attempt was satisfactory. for now.  
“go on then, darling,” he drawled, “cum for daddy like a good girl.”  
you couldn’t help the scream that left your mouth, and your orgasm shook your body so hard that it left your limbs twitching. this orgasm seemed to be more fulfilling, and lasted longer than the others you’d had this evening. your clenching pussy triggered mason’s orgasm, and despite the fact he came into the condom, you could still feel the heat of his cum inside of you.  
it was only when you noticed the wet sheets underneath your bum and mason’s wet torso that your eyebrows furrowed.  
“fucking hell, little one,” mason groaned, pulling out of you and looking down at the seeping sheets, “look at the mess you’ve made.”  
“what happened...? what did i do?”  
it had only just dawned on mason that you were completely clueless. this was the first time you’d ever squirted.  
“you just wet the bed, babygirl,” he rolled to the side of you and your eyebrows furrowed, “daddy fucked you so well and so deep that you squirted.”  
he admired the way your eyes widened, and he smirked. if he wasn’t sure about keeping you in his life before, he was definitely going to keep you around now. you yawned, completely and utterly exhausted from the night’s events, and mason pushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “we need to get you clean, sweetheart.”  
“mm, tired,” was all you could say, fighting off a yawn, “just wanna sleep.”  
mason stood up and slipped your dressing gown back over his shoulders. your eyelids continued to flutter, and you would’ve fallen asleep had he not have handed you his shirt and boxers, “come on, darling, you need to clean yourself up,” you sighed but obeyed his words, pulling the shirt over your head, “i’ll help you put fresh sheets on too, okay?”  
his hand looped through yours as he guided you to your bathroom, and your eyebrows furrowed again. mason began to run the water and you sat on the toilet seat. “you’re helping?” you asked, scrunching your nose, “i thought you were just going to leave.”  
mason laughed. you really were clueless, and it was adorable to him.  
“you really think i'd fuck you like that and then just walk away?” mason raised an eyebrow, and once again, the thought dawned on him that that’s exactly what happened to you after your first time. that was all you’d ever known. “oh, sweetheart, no, i wouldn’t ever do that to you.”  
he tested the temperature of the water with the tips of his fingers, and helped you wriggle out of his shirt as you stepped into it. he kissed your forehead as you rested your arms on the side of the bath.  
“pack a bag and come to my house next weekend,” he said nonchalantly, and suddenly, all your exhaustion had dissipated, “please.”  
“y-you want me to...”  
“i’m not asking you, y/n,” his stern bedroom voice had returned and it sent shivers down your spine, “i’m telling you.”  
your heart settled in your chest and he smiled against your lips when you leaned over the bath and kissed him. “i’ll stay at yours if you stay here.”  
“i wasn’t planning on going anywhere, darling,” he kissed your nose, “you’re going to get sick of me.”  
you smiled.  
“impossible.”  
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ramp-it-up · 13 days
Text
II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy 
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Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)
Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?
Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.
A/N:  This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.
I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
Previous part here
-----------------
May 2024
“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”
When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.
“Butter-”
You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.
—---
Get out (LEAVE!)
Right now
It’s the end of you and me
It’s too late (NOW!)
And I can’t wait 
For you to be gone…
Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.
“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”
You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.
How could everything still hurt this much? 
Carla wasn’t having it.
“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”
Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.
You sighed.
“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.
“I just… Can’t…”
“So what just happened?”
Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.
“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”
“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”
Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.
“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”
“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”
You interrupted Carla.
“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”
“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”
You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.
But why? And what did it matter now? 
“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”
“I don’t have to do-”
Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:
“Teen drinking is very bad.”
Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:
“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”
The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.
One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...
…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.
This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.
—-----
Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance. 
Tonight was the night.
And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.
When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.
Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.
He wanted to fight with you. 
And he wanted to make it up to you. 
His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.
—---
You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.
I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now
You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.
Just like it did 20 years earlier. 
—---
May 2004
On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,
“You look amazing.”
You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.
Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.
You were caught up.
Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.
In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.
And Sy was right there with you.
“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.” 
He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.
“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”
Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.
You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.
“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”
You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.
“You’re right.”
Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you. 
“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”
You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.
“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”
You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear. 
Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.
“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”
You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.
“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”
You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.
You gasped.
“Sy!”
You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.
Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife. 
“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”
Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together. 
You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him. 
“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.” 
That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.
Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.
“What are you doing Sy….?”
All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.
“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.” 
He kissed your hand again. 
“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.” 
Those eyes held you in a trance.
“But one day, we won't be.”
“Oh, Sy…”
“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”
And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.
—-
May 2024
I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no
It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say. 
Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.
Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.
“You still wanna talk, Sy?”
Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke. 
“Ye– yeah.”
Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.
You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco. 
But he didn’t let go of your hand.
You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.
“So where we goin’, Sy?”
Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man. 
This huge, handsome, hairy man.
“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”
What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.
Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.
“Hm.”
Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go. 
And he didn’t.
“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”
Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.
But you were grown now. 
And so was Sy.
Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.
“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”
“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”
Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.
“I bet she missed you.”
Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again. 
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Sy.”
Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now. 
“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.” 
Your cheeks heated at the compliment.
“Ok, Captain.”
Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you. 
He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.
When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.
Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.
—---
Hit reblog if you like it!
Next part Here
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Note
Heyyy I absolutely love your work!! Could I request a drabble of Bucky being completely smitten with the reader or a headcanon when the reader is sick??? Merci beaucoup mademoiselle🫶💖
Two Floors
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PAIRINGS: 40's!James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader
WARNINGS: FLUFF, angst (if you squint), mentions of not haveing enough money
WORD COUNT: 1,759 (got carried away lol)
*not proof-read*
ENJOY!
“Oh c’mon doll, can’t leave a poor man hangin’,” he says as he runs to catch up with you. You roll your eyes as he comes to walk along side you.
“Buchanan, I told you to go annoy Rogers instead. I have much more important things to do,” you bite in his direction as you make your way through the streets of Brooklyn.
Graduating high school, a month ago with your best friends, Bucky and Steve, was something your dreamed of when you met the two boys the first time your moved into the old apartment complex.
Since then, the three of you have become inseparable.
But something eats away at your heart, a painful piece of emotion that just slowly chews away at your peace.
“You got a job already?” Bucky asks as he slides his hands into his pockets. You adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder and nod your head, “just a small secretary job at the library. Enough to earn something until I finally decided what I wanna do with my life.”
Bucky laughs and lets out a low whistle, “still that ‘always need to know whay my future is’ type o’ girl, yeah?” You shake your head and slap his arm, “quit it, Buchanan. Or I’m telling Winnie your being an ass.”
Bucky rubs his arm, a little sore from your slap. “My ma trusts you more than the Lord himself,” Bucky comments, the loosely swinging his arm over your shoulder.
You doesn’t push it away.
“That’s because I don’t go bring random girls back home and make them scream my name in the middle of the night,” you smirk as you reveal you know of his nightly activities.
Bucky stops, forcing her stop. The look on his face is horrific and you snort and slap his chest at his reaction. “How’d you-,” he starts, but you continue to laugh.
“Becca tells me everything, Buchanan,” you wink at him before you start walking again. He breaks out of his reverie and jogs to catch up with you, “doll, it ain’t like that.”
You laugh and shake your head, “do I look like I care who you mess around with, Buchanan?” He pauses and shakes his head, it looks like to you he’s a bit upset, “no, you don’t”
You were about to say something else, but something caught your eye.
You stop and gasp as you walk towards the window of the shop.
The great glass pane with the large painted letters on it does not stop you from viewing the contents inside of the store.
The dainty little locket sits at the back of the display, hiding behind all the extravagant jewels. You know that the owner would’ve expected people to look at the jewels.
But the locket, it hangs lovingly from a thin gold chain. The oval case rests just in between the collarbone.
You think it’s the most beautiful piece you’ve ever seen.
Bucky see’s you view the locket and how in awe you are in as you frame a picture of it in your mind.
“Why don’t you get it,” Bucky suggests, nodding at the piece of jewellry. You let out a sad laugh, “because it costs more than our parents’ rent combined, Buchanan.”
You bite your lip while still looking at the necklace, “a girl could dream.”
You sigh and pull away, “let’s go.”
------- The Rogers’, the Barnes’ and your parents all stand in front of you as they sing ‘Happy Birthday’ for the eighteenth time in your life.
After they finish the song, out of key, you drag the simple knife down the cake, and they start cheering.
Your mother cuts up slices and hands it to everyone, you get up from the dining table and smooth out the wrinkles of the emerald green cotton dress your mother sewed for you.
The dad’s gather as they converse about the lastest sports, the mom’s are in the kitchen laughing as the cook dinner. Steve, Bucky, Rebecca and you sit in the living room.
You go against the opinions of Steve’s and Bucky’s as they complain about how high school was the worst time of their life.
“Look guys, you can’t say that,” you chastise them softly, “Becca, you’re in your junior year. It’s one of the best times you’ll ever experience.”
Becca nods, as Steve shakes his head to Bucky and Bucky mouths a ‘No’ in Becca’s direction.
“Buchanan,” you throw the couch pillow at him.
-------
“Hey, can I come in?” Bucky knocks on the window of your bedroom.
The party was over, and you’re parents went out to have a quick little dinner. They were upset because they didn’t want to leave you on your special day, but you knew how hard they’ve been working, and they didn’t have time to themselves. So you pushed them out the door and yelled a ‘have a great time’.
Bucky crouches on metal ridges that is your fire escape, waiting for your permission to enter your room.
You jump out of bed and raise your window a bit higher so he can fit in. “Are you out of your mind, Buchanan?” You whisper-yell at him.
He shrugs, “what? I live two floors above your doll, nothing to be worried about.” The wink he throws you way, makes you roll your eyes.
But there’s a place in your heart where it instantly becomes warm.
Because, even if Bucky was a player at times, he still caught your heart.
You did roll your eyes at his antics. But your smile was true from how playful he is.
You’d say ‘Quit it, Buchanan’, but in your mind you’d always whisper a ‘Don’t ever stop’.
You knew you were falling for Bucky, but you always forced those feelings down.
Because you knew, he won’t feel the same.
“What needed my attention so badly, that you had climb down to get here,” you cross your arms and narrow you’re eyes at him.
He smirks and sits on your bed, “well, I haven’t given you my present yet.”
You freeze.
You’re also confused.
“What? Of course you did, your family gifted me the Aesop Fable set,” you say as you walk to stand in front of him.
You vividly remember getting the gift, because it was something you have been telling Becca about for so long. And you squealed when you opened their present
But Bucky shakes his head, “no doll. They gave you, their gift. I haven’t given you mine.”
You pause, and you swear your heart starts beating a little faster.
“What”? You whisper, because you know you voice will crack if you spoke louder.
He pats the space next to him, “sit down, doll.”
You gulp and go sit down next to him, you obediently place you hands on your thighs as you wait for the next part.
Bucky gives a smile. But it’s different, you have never seen this look on Bucky before. The softness of his eyes, the way his cheeks are slightly flushed, the little crinkles at the corners of his lips as he maintains that smile.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny box.
The box looked like it was originally used to store a single chocolate ball, but the lettering on it worn out and the edges are a bit jagged.
You look at bucky with confusion, “what is thi-.”
He interrupts you, “just open it f’me, doll.”
And you do.
“Bucky, no.”
The locket stares back up at you, the gold glints under the light of your room.
“You-you can’t be serious, thi-this has to be a joke,” you turn to face him with tears lining your eyes. You heart has never beaten so fast in your entire life.
Bucky’s grin widens and nods, “got it this morning, just for you.” He says your name so softly that you think it might break if he said it to harshly.
You wrap your arms around his neck and push your head against his shoulder as you whisper your million ‘thank you’s’.
Bucky chuckles and rubs your back, “anything for you, doll.”
“Why, why me? Why this?” you shake your head against him.
“Because I gotta tell the girl, who lives two floors below me, that I’m in love with her,” Bucky pulls back and cups the back of your neck.
You gasp softly and furrow your brows at him, your shock so evident on your face.
“Gotta tell her that I’ve been after her since the day she moved into this building,” Bucky leans in and you follow.
How have you been so daft to not see this?
You close your eyes and stop until you’re a hair width’s away from Bucky’s lips.
“Gotta tell her how much I’ve been dreamin’ about her, and how she’s the only thing on my mind,” Bucky whispers, and you feel his breath hits your lips.
He softly places his lips on yours, and you move your hands to cup his face. You both move your lips in tandem to the other, as you try to feel more of one another.
He pulls away breathlessly and you follow suit.
“I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time, doll,” he chuckles and leans in to place soft kisses on your jaw.
You giggle and whisper a ‘me too’.
Bucky takes the locket from your hands and starts to put it on for you.
He soon as he done, he leans back and sees how beautifully the necklace sits just above the dip of your collarbone.
“Open it up,” he nods at the locket. You smile and follow his orders, you gasp as you see a picture of your seventeenth birthday, with the Rogers’ and Barnes’, at Coney Island. And the other side had a picture of you and Bucky at Prom.
You didn’t have a date, well you did but he stood you up. So Bucky stepped in and became your man for the night.
You look up at him and have no words to say.
“I-,” you start but can’t finish your sentence.
“I know, doll. I know,” he smiles. “Been saving those tiny pictures for a while, but it was worth it,” he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.
You close your eyes and relish this feeling that hangs in the air.
The feeling that you have been wanting to feel for so long now, it feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
“Bucky?” you whisper.
“Hmm, doll,” he whispers back.
“I love you.”
“I love you, doll.”
💌💌💌
OMG! MY FIRST EVER ANON!!
HELLO NONNIE!!!
Love this ask, I've always had this idea in mind, but never really knew how to write it.
I guess this is just a messy way of writing it lol.
I hope this is what you were looking for nonnie!!!
Lemme know what you lovelies think!!
Till' then,
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed
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Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader
Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, Homelander being a stalker, innocent reader, naive reader, Homelander being a basic menace, first time writing for this fandom, also experimenting a new writing style
Words: 5688
Summary: Along with the existence of Ryan, there was another secret being kept from Homelander that he manages to rip out of Vogelbaum's throat: he has a sister.
Part 2
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The house was quaint, way too fucking perfect in Homelander's opinion. Just like all the other mansions on the block. When he went back to Vogelbaum to find out the REAL truth about Becca, he'd forced Jonah to tell him anymore lies that were being kept from him. He hadn't anticipated there being a second secret: Homlander has a sister. Rare to be caught speechless, he leaves Vogelbaum's massive mansion. What else was Vought hiding from him? Not just Vought, but Madelyn as well. She'd lied to Homelander before. Now he'd take things into his own control.
From the slip of information Vogelbaum wheezed out , Homelander remembers the address. Stares at the numbers in front of the house that matches what Johan said. Architecture reeks of wealth. He didn't have to peek into the large bay windows to know that each corner dripped with elegance as was appropriate for a big time Vought executive. You were granted an entirely different life than what Homelander suffered from. Raised with loving parents who encouraged you to cultivate your powers in a positive way. Dinner was a sit down affair where everyone discussed highlights of the day. An authentic family unit. After discovering the truth of both you and Becca, he raided the archives for more information about her. Birth records, school reports, personal notes of progress from the adopted parents. Doted on. If only he had knowledge of you sooner. Homelander missed out on having a genuine bond to someone. A person he could truly call his own.
Superhuman eyes detect multiple people in the house. No worries. Once he presents himself, they won't deny him anything. Unless they want to end up like Stillwell and many others.
Insurmountable confidence has his gloved hand wrapping knuckles against the wood of the front door. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits. Scattering voices whisper amongst the other before feet lumber down several steps of stairs. A moment passes before the locks on the doors click open to reveal the stereotypcial dowdy housemaid. What a cliche.
Her eyes damn near pop out of her head, her mouth pulling into an ecstatic smile. Good, didn't look like there'd be much resistance. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before the maid pulls him in. "Oh she'll be SO delighted to see you Homlander! Please- wait here while I get her!" She frantically calls up the stairs, using the name he knew belonged to you, his sister. A sudden pang of warmth pleasantly grips him at the knowledge that you were already a fan of him. Maybe even admired Homelander. That makes him stand a bit taller.
At the top of the stairs, there you stood. You didn't believe in Diane when she told you the Homelander was at the front door. Even as you stare at him with your own striking cornflower blue eyes, your mind melts and you still don't believe what you see before you; that he's there in the flesh until his grin broadens. A brush stroke of awestruck sweeps across his expression.
Homelander found you absolutely perfect. And the smile that broke out on your own face took his breath away. An authentic smile of his own graces his facial muscles. You were a vision before him. Utter helplessness renders speech useless as he simply stares right into you. There must be a blush on your face, how could there not be one when he's staring so intently at you. He was bigger and better in real life. A wider range of emotions more available on his face opposed to the mask you saw him wear sometimes on screen. Stiff and uncomfortable. This one was even more appealing. His smile made his blue eyes crinkle with delight.
"Wow." You breathe out and feel Diane eagerly bounce behind you. "It's really you!" As fast as your mouth could go, you introduce yourself and Diane despite Homelander already knowing your name, birthdate and social security number. Whatever information he could get on you. Not even in his imagination could he truly conjure you up though.
Bringing him to the drawing room with a small tug on his gloved hands, you beam at him and say that your mom would be so excited to meet him. The light of your face makes his heart melt, something he long believed he didn't possess.
Seated already on a cream colored couch was your mom. She drops her cup and saucer, letting it shatter against the ground. Eyes incredulously wide but not with enthusiasm like you assume they'd be. Your grin drops a bit when you realize she's scared. Of what? Certainly not Homelander. Couldn't be. She'd been perfectly fine when you passed by the sitting room a few moments before heading upstairs.
Immediately the maid scrambles to clean up the mess, chirping apologies as she gathers the pieces up in her apron before scuttling away to dispose of the broken porcelain pieces.
"Homelander," your mom's voice came out as a squeak. "What a surprise to see you." She blinks out of nervousness.
"Thought I would treat Vought's wonderful executive crew with a surprise visit!" Businessman smile activated, Homelander goes on with some well rehearsed corporate bull crap spiel about how Vought appreciated all of their wonderful workers. He could practically lap at the fear emanating from your mom as she sat tightlipped against frilly decorative throw pillows. That could only mean she was in on the secret too and knew who you really were. Most importantly why he was there. She must have known that when he eventually found out, he would come.
Your mom's smile is frigid as her hand is clamped down on your forearm. "What an honor, thank you Homelander." You could tell she wanted him gone. With your own incredible olfactory receptors, you could smell her sweat too.
Hands behind his back in his usual resting stance, Homelander admits "I do have another reason for coming here too." Boots squeak as he takes just one simple step closer that has your mom's nails digging into you. It didn't hurt you but from her white knuckles she was definitely using all her strength. "A little bird told me you're special, like me."
Admittedly you beam with pride when he spoke of you being special like him. When your powers start to grow you were thrilled to find out that you had the exact powers that Homelander, the greatest superhero in the world!
Coyly and not wanting to come off as arrogant, you flutter your gaze down to your lap. "Well, I'm still nowhere near your league." Just to show off a little, you make your eyes sizzle red with heat vision that Homelander also possessed. His smile widens at your display of superability.
"How would you like to train at Vought with the Seven? You'll have the best of the best as your teachers."
He'd said it so easily you didn't take him seriously the first time. Blinking at him until it dawned on you. "R-Really?"
"Honey, this is all very sudden. Lets wait for your father to come home." She attempts to placate you but now all you can think about is the possibility of training alongside the rest of the Seven. Immediately you want to remind her that you were an adult and could take up this offer with or without your father's permission.
You don't have to because Homelander smoothly lies to her face. "Oh, no need to worry about that. Your husband already gave the go ahead!"
Her brows scrunch in a disbelieving frown. "He did?" She couldn't out right accuse the Homelander of lying.
"Of course! He was ecstatic at the opportunity his little girl would have." His tone is syrupy sweet. He couldn't show how annoyed he was with your mom. If he had informed the patriarch of your family, he doubts the man would have objected. Not to Homelander at least. They could go crying to Stand Edger for all he cared. Vought's CEO was just as powerless in stopping him once he has his mind set on something. Try as they might. Madelyn Stillwell came close to being able to manipulate him, but he'd melted her face off days prior so there was no use in Edger wielding her as a weapon.
Now you're the one clawing at your mom's arm. "Did you hear that! He said I could go! I gotta pack!" Hopping to your feet, in the blink of an eye you're dashing out of the living room and up the stairs before your mom could stutter out another word. It was just her and Homelander now with the occasional house help peeking into the living room to catch a glimpse of the glorious leader of the Seven. Visibly she swallows thickly, her eyes stare at Homelander with unrelenting fear.
"What? Did you really expect me not to find out?" Cheery smile not leaving his face, his voice reveals the sneer that he so wished to deliver to her. As it was he was keeping his voice down in case you had superhearing like he did.
The rims of her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She had to be the same age Madelyn was before he killed her. "I-I thought we had more time. Please don't take her. Please. You can come see her as much as you want. You have that right as her b-brother. But please- leave her with us." Practically gasping as she keeps her panic in control. Lines around her lips tremble. Homelander takes in her pathetic form.
"Tell me, do you love her?"
That makes her tears roll freely down her face. "I do. We do. She's a good girl. S-She wants to be a superhero, wants to protect people and use her powers for good. Please don't take her!"
Homelander snaps. "Quit your fucking blubbering."
Her mouth instantly zips shut, knowing what he did to Stillwell. Her husband had warned her early on about the real Homelander. He wasn't the perfect hero that the media painted him as. Even if you were upstairs, he wouldn't hesitate to come back and kill her. He's paused for a moment, listening to the pitter patter of your feet above. Happy that you were still busy and not paying attention to what was going on downstairs.
False saccharine face goes back up. "There's no reason for tears. You've done your job. Said so yourself that she's a good girl. She's a young adult though and doesn't need her mommy and daddy poking around in her business. Not to mention the big secret you and your husband are keeping from her."
Leaning over her, he sinisterly utters under his breath "She's coming with me. Now put a smile on your face and fucking wipe your goddamn eyes. You look disgusting. She's coming down the stairs."
Easily toting a giant backpack and two overstuffed duffle bags, you stride back into the living room. To Homelander's surprise, another duffle bag was floating behind you. Apparently you had telekinesis too. Your smile is so big that it was starting to hurt your face. This was the chance of a lifetime. You'd been getting bored stuck at home as of late.
Eagerly clenching the straps of your two duffle bags in your hands, you beam expectantly at your mom. "Sorry about dad not being here to see me off, but I'll see him around at Vought!" You go in to hug your stunned mom and promise to call her when you arrive at the tower.
Homelander is tickled pink by your enthusiasm and haul your bags out to the front porch. "Can you fly?"
You grin deviously and give your mom one last wave goodbye. Homelander takes the duffles out of your hands even though you were fully capable of carrying possibly even more luggage. What a gentleman. Something guys your age weren't.
He takes off first into the sky with you following, hot on his tail.
Never had you experienced this level of elation. You have someone to fly with! The feeling was the same for Homelander. He'd boost his speed and you caught up with him in seconds. Laughing the entire time. It makes him giddy and laughs along with you.
Twin flames.
Finally, Homelander was getting what he's wanted since he was a young boy.
You were a streak of gold as you zoom past him cheekily. For a moment he forgets that you're his sister. He's overwhelmed by the sudden warming in his chest that bleeds to his face as he watches you zip in the open air with your arms wide open to embrace the wind itself. To him you were beautiful in every single way. A perfect specimen. An outright desirous scream in his head confounds him. He didn't have a regular up bringing, but Homelander knew that this was not a common reaction to have with blood kin.
Expertly he tucks that thought away. He'd examine it later. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up with you.
He had to take the lead anyway since he was the only one who could find Vought Tower so high up in the sky and miles away. Below you, the city looks like a toy replica by how small it was as you follow Homelander's lead in the sky. You'd never seen anything quite like it. Where you'd lived was a quiet suburb. You didn't go to a public or private school but taught at home by the best instructors your parents could buy. They tend to keep you away from big cities, claiming your buddening powers as a liability if something bad were to happen. When they brought up things like that, it made you scared to even try using them. But watching Homelander's Vought produced movies gave you the courage to start playing with your abilities and push your limits; even if it meant that you subsequently knocked down the large tree in your backyard and landing it on the side of the house. That was the first time your dad had ever yelled at you.
From seeing it on the news many times, you notice the tall, silver column as Vought Tower. Homelander slows down as you had been too busy with sight seeing, but he didn't mind. He thought you were adorable, basically a little kid at Voughtland. So easily excited about everything new. That just reaffirms his suspicion that your parents had locked you up in an oppressive cage. Just like Becca did with Ryan. Really, Homelander was doing you a favor by setting you free and into his secure and guiding hands.
Both of you easily land on the roof of the tower, a door at the ready for them to enter the structure itself. You gaze out from the roof, enjoying the noise of the city and the pure energy that buzzed through it. That morning seemed so long ago. A basic start to your day, just like any other morning for the boring, safe life your parents smothered you with.
Your excitement makes your features glow, even blinding Homelander who couldn't keep his eyes off of you. You were utterly intriguing to him. An entirely different species. Both of you were so much alike yet due to your upbringing near solar opposites at the same time. Finally when you turn away from observing gaze and look to Homelander, he opens the door for you. In more ways than one. He takes you from the rooftop and into the thrum of the tower. You can't help staring at everything you walk by. All the while he goes on to promise you a room as soon as he could find-
"Ashley! There you are!" He calls out to a jumpy red head who looks both relieved and incredibly stressed out once she spots you next to him. Her lips smack against one another, flailing for useful words, her eyes round and staring at you. "We need to get a room set up for our new friend here." Homelander introduces you and you hold out a hand for Ashley to shake. Fumbling with her tablet, a sweaty hand weakly reaches out for a fast shake.
"Nice to meet you. Homelander, can I have a word with you?" Ashley hesitantly asks, forcing a fake smile and much like your mom had Ashley reeked of fear.
Homelander quickly catches your dampening smile and puts a hand on your shoulder to steer you past her. "Not now, Ashley. I have to show her around the rest of the tower. Especially the Seven's very own conference room." That brings the enthusiasm back onto your lips. While he can still hear Ashley's frantic voice trying to get him to come back he could care less. Besides, you didn't appear too affected by bumping into her, the prospect of seeing the Seven's personal conference room had you instantly forgetting the nervous red head.
A large window that spans from wall to wall has the perfect picture of the metropolis skyline in its massive frame. This felt like a perspective only the elite were privlidged enough to gaze from.
Focal point of the room though was the massive circular table, meticulously crafted with dark marble and metal. A symbol of the Seven's authority. It gleams liquid night. At the head of the table was one lone chair, away from the others. Homelander's chair. This is where he got to work every day with the greatest superheroes the country has to offer.
Watching you glide to his chair, Homelander smirks to himself. You catch it when you glance up at him with brilliant moon eyes. The brightness from the world outside casts a brilliant light around you. "I can't believe I'm in Homelander's seat!"
He chuckles and slowly trails over to you. His gloved fingers trail along the tops of the other chairs in a near gentle caress. "It suits you."
You avert your gaze from those fingers, suddenly feeling a flush crawl up your neck. "Is this really happening?" You incredulously peer at him. Your own hands glide along the table's surface. "This morning I was eating breakfast in our dining room, now I'm here with the greatest hero of all time." Brows scrunch together. Besides having powers, your life had been mundane. You'd never even been to Vought Tower where your dad had worked for a good thirty years. Things like this don't happen in a span of four hours. Insane. And it was all thanks to Homelander who saw potential in you.
"You'll get used to it. It's a lot at first." He acknowledged. Homelander wonders if Ashely has procured a room for you yet and has half the mind to call her until the conference room doors open. You throw yourself out of his chair, afraid how it would be perceived by his colleagues. Gasping when you find out it's Starlight and Queen Maeve. They appeared to be in a deep conversation. But once they register you and Homelander, whatever they'd been discussing becomes secondary. How could it not when you had similar characteristics with the man standing next to you. You weren't anyone they've met before. Nor were you a sponsoring celebrity or executive. So what were you doing there all of places?
"Impeccable timing!" He merely claps his hands together. "The two most perfect heroes to welcome you to the Tower." Starlight can't resist lookng at you with concern, wondering if you were in distress despite the smile plastered on your face. When there's no obvious sign of you being uncomfortable, Starlight strains to conjure the semblance of an easy going smile. Homelander told them that you were their new hero-in-training. Neither Queen Maeve or Starlight have ever heard of this position, it hadn't existed but once it leaves their leader's mouth, it might as well have been law. Maeve knew to tread carefully with her words.
Her own mask was honed after years of dealing with his psychopathy and Maeve dawned it on herself with ease. "Wonderful news." She turns to you, statuesque and beautiful. "Welcome. If Homelander speaks so highly of you, then I'm sure you'll find your footing around here."
"I'm excited to learn from both of you and I'll make sure not to get in the way." You promise which cracks a sympathetic smile from Starlight. From your appearance, Starlight deduces that you had to be a year or two younger than her and understood how it felt to abruptly be thrust into the life of the Seven.
Homelander clears his throat and offers you his arm. "Lets go see if Ashley's got that room ready for you. I'm sure you want to settle down."
Before leaving, Homelander sends both women a pointed glare over his shoulder as the doors close behind his red, white and blue cape.
Stunned, Starlight turns to Maeve knowing nothing good would come of this new installment of Vought. Neither had seen nor heard of you. You seemed relatively innocent and ignorant of the danger you were in so close to Homelander.
Maeve shrugs, indifference cloaking how she really felt. "Not our problem."
Starlight's eyes round in disbelief. "Sounds like its going to be a problem sooner or later. Something's up. He doesn't just show interest in random strangers. Even if they're supes too."
Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Maeve is aware of the terrible possibility that this could all end badly for you. Having Homelander's attention did more harm than good. If they wanted any chance of intervening, they'd have to be extremely careful. Homelander may be an egotistical man, but he wasn't a dumb man. He'd catch on immediately if either Starlight or Maeve slip in their investigation toward who you are.
"All we can do is keep an eye out for her and guide her." Maeve murmurs, worried that Homelander may still be listening. Such was the paranoia that she'd developed from all the years they worked together. It was upsetting that her relationship with HOmelander outlasts any other, even Elena. They'd known one another for years. The manner that Homelander hovered around you though was disconcerting. If intervention were needed, there was no way Homelander would let anyone near you.
Starlight grits down on her back molars as she moves around Maeve and out of the conference room. But she couldn't just keep an eye on you. Her feet take her to Ashley's office although her brain was reminding her that the VP of Hero Management would most likely not be there.
After finally hounding down Ashley, you're shown your new room in Vought with a promise from Homelander that you could redecorate it all if you like. All the while it's impossible to ignore the heavy smell of fear from her.
Homelander couldn't pretend not to notice either as his mouth, still holding onto a smile, becomes tight with force. "Thank you Ashley, that will be all."
For not being a supe, she gave A-Train a run for his money as Ashley booked it out of there in the blink of an eye.
"I'll make sure everything else is taken care of and given to you as soon as possible. For now though, relax. I'll put together a team dinner tonight so you can meet everyone else." The face he'd had with Ashley was washed away now replaced with genuine plesantaness.
You examine what was more than a simple room, this was a penthouse apartment. Bigger than the room you had back home with actual marble columns that stand proudly from floor to ceiling. A similar expansive window like that of the conference room greets the city outside with a glittery afternoon effect. Gold and amber filter the sky. Lost in the gleam of it all, you float around; eyes big in wonder. You lived in luxury before, but now your surroundings were damn near extravagant. This was an entire level up from your usual lifestyle.
Barely managing to breathe out an 'okay', you hear the front door open then close.
Still reeling, you place your backpack along with your other luggage at the foyer and let yourself wander. The call to your mom could wait. This moment was for you. You felt seen.
You would be a hero like Homelander. Maybe never as great as him, but some day you could achieve his caliber. This was really happening.
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Homelander never imagined his day would have turned into something like this either. His miles hasn't left since leaving your room as he strolls through the halls to make sure your paperwork was properly handled. He felt like he was flying his entire way to the elevators yet his feet were firmly planted on the ground. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. So much he wanted to talk about.
But. . .
He couldn't let you know about the tie you had to him. More than you sharing powers. Blood connected the both of you. The only person (besides Ryan) who could boast that. It was something sacred to him. Of course nothing could remain pure when it came to Homelander. Because you were his sister that meant you were just as perfect as he was. Even more so since you had the added skill of telekinesis. The only person alive truly worthy of being with him. Thinking about his future had butterflies flapping their paper thin wings along the inside of his stomach. To take you the way he desired, Homelander had to make sure no one knew of your biological relationship. Public opinion would demonize him were the fact to get out. Initially he thought of keeping you locked up, but that was an unlikely scenario which would lead to you fighting against him. He wants you to be pliant and willing. That required trust to be developed along with Homelander worming his way into your brain and heart.
Hopefully the look he shot Starlight and Maeve on his way out was enough to prevent either of them in snooping around for information about you. This was his business that they should not meddle in. Particularly Starlight's intentions bothered him. She was a snake in the grass, proven it by aligning herself with Hughie and the rest of the Boys. He saw her being a problem in the future. That concerned look she'd had when her eyes fell upon you spelled trouble brewing.
The pep in his step dwindles thinking of it, jaw tightening. If Starlight found out you were siblings, it would put a wrench in the plans he was formulating. His long desired family unit was within reach. He could practically hear Ryan's laughter, see you chasing after the young boy as if he were your very own. How pretty you would look in summer clothes, waiting for Homelander to come home. The life of his dreams. The life Vought fabricated for his backstory could so easily become reality. He'd just been missing two important pieces. They were essential to this new life Homelander wished for.
There were no qualms over the idea of killing Starlight. Problems would be for Vought trying to cover it up. Not to mention the situation that would inevitably arise with Billy Butcher, especially now that he knew his wife was alive and raising the supe's son. Another encounter with him lay in wait. A headache he wasn't looking forward to dealing with. He just wanted to focus on you and Ryan.
Arriving at the gold plated elevator doors, he presses down on the button that would take him to floor 82, Mr. Edgar's floor. That was Mr. Edgar's kingdom which he ruled with an iron fist and ruthless attitude. When the two doors slide open, Ashley jumps back clearly startled by yet again running into him.
"I-I trust the room is to her liking?" Ashley's mouth twitches and morphs into what she must have thought passed off as a smile.
He stalks into the elevator forcing Ashley to seek refuge in the further most corner. Darkling tutting, Homelander waits for the doors to close before addressing the vice president who was charged with dealing with these self entitled heroes. "You're going to have to try a lot harder at pretending you're not scared. You stink of fear and if I can smell it, so could she."
Paling, her head rapidly nods in complete understanding all the while trying to relax her facial muscles into neutrality as well as taking a few deep breaths. If she didn't fix herself immediately. . . it brought back memories of Blindspot.
For a few seconds he watches her, specifically listening to her erratic heartbeat. At least she listened and didn't need to be told twice. Through her own sheer will, Ashley manages to calm herself enough to lower her pulse, not the easiest thing when her number one stressor was stuck in an elevator with her.
She reaches a hand up to her red hair and anxiously curls a lock of it around her finger instead, her only outlet that she'd be allowed.
"Good. You'll be coming with me to see Mr. Edgar." Homelander turns his blue eyes back up to the lit up floor numbers that were beginning to descend. With his attention away from her, Ashley stealthily rips out a few strands of her hair. The pain was soothing, aiding in faking her calm.
The air was suffocating with just the two of them. She thinks back to the phone call she'd received an hour before you and Homelander had arrived at the Tower. Stan Edgar personally warned her of what Homelander was doing. That he'd discovered not only a son but a sister too. Edgar, in the most polite way possible, instructed her not to get involved and just do whatever he told her to do. And absolutely no asking questions about you. Homelander was already pissed about so much being kept from him, best not to antagonize him further. Keeping him happy was top priority.
Unaware of the shit show that was unraveling, worker bees greet them with a smile once they arrive on the 82nd floor. A few even wave at Ashley.
Stan Edgar saw them coming the moment they stepped out of the elevator. Already he was on his feet and moving around his desk to greet them as his office door is opened. Homelander's hand poised at the back of Ashley's neck, he nudges her inside. Homelander motions for both of them to sit down as if it were his own office. His gaze doesn't waver, staring down an equally defiant Edgar. A normal human but he never squirmed in front of Homelander's penetrating stare. He'd commend the older man for his bravery. If only Ashley would take notes. She needed a better poker face if she's to make it in Vought Industries.
"You know why I'm here."
"Your sister and Ryan." Verifies Edgar. He'd prefer to stand but inch by inch sank himself down onto the cushion of his desk chair.
"Now, while Ryan may be under Becca's care, my sister is an adult and wishes to stay here. Train to be an elite hero. Like me. However," neither like the way he breathed out that single word "no one can know that we're related. People will scream nepotism and claim she's getting special treatment."
His reasoning was plausible but. . .
From a promotional point of view, a sibling duo would be a hit like the TNT Twins. The public would eat it up and show even more support for Vought in the polls.
"Oh, and her parents need to sign one of those NDA things. Can't have them flapping their mouth either." Tacking on as an after thought. You'd forget them soon enough. He'd just have to keep them away from you for the time being. They hovered over her too much for his liking. From the corner of his eye, he caught a quiver in Ashley's mask.
About to reprimand her, Edgar clears his throat and leans forward to allow his elbows to rest on the desk's surface." I understand. It will be done. But you do realize how difficult it would be to keep it under wraps considering the outstanding similarities. The powers, your eyes. People will start to ask questions."
"Let them ask away. As long as Vought says she's not my sister, then she's not my sister."
Why was he so intent on covering this one particular fact? Nepotism surely could explain it. Homelander's insistence of it concerns Edgar and Ashley who felt like he was planning something more nefarious for you. He was capable of any horrendous acts they could conjure. They were just as helpless when it came to him. Unable to defy his orders unless they desired him to burn holes into their faces as he did to Madelyn.
All of his whims taken care of, Homelander leaves them to start working on the welcome dinner with you and the rest of the Seven. He wants to show you off. He'd make sure you never wanted to leave him. Ensure that you continue to see him as all powerful and benevolent. The looks of admiration you'd shot him went straight to his head as well as other regions that were out of his control. Clear that you idolized America's favorite hero. Your parents raised you to believe that Vought was a company that cared about helping the public and that their heroes were there to protect and serve the general masses. No doubt in your mind that they were the good guys and the stuff on the media was simply baseless slander. What child would want to discover that their daddy was actually a bad guy working for the power hungry company and that supes were not in fact a gift from god. They were manmade. That knowledge would ruin your world.
Homelander would not allow that. You were his to protect now. His to blind and deafen to the world around them.
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antiquarianfics · 9 months
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Taken pt. 1
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
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A/N: I've been toying with this idea for a while, so... I have no idea how many parts this will be, but I am planning more than one, so stay tuned. Also. I'm sorry. Genre: Angst/Fluff / WC: 1,395 / Rating: PG-13 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warnings: Kidnapping, canon-typical violence. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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Bucky groans tiredly as he kicks his shoes off at the door. His muscles ached pleasantly from his run, but his lack of sleep made his body feel heavy. He calls out a quick “Girls, I’m home” to announce his presence as he drops his keys into the dish by the door, but when he doesn’t receive any sort of response from within the apartment, he frowns.
He had left for his run after you and Rebecca left for the park. His daughter jumping up and down at his feet while she excitedly told him all she planned to do (“Daddy, daddy!” She had said, “I’m gonna slide on the loopy slide, then I’m gonna do the monkey bars, and then I’m gonna swing as high as I can and jump off!” Bucky had laughed at her joy, only thinking to tell her to be careful.)
He tentatively walks through the apartment, calling out your name. “They should’ve been back by now,” he thinks to himself, pulling his phone out to check if you’d texted to let him know you’d be late coming home. You hadn’t. He quickly realizes he’s alone, and calls your cell as his heart rate picks up.
Bucky is incredibly aware that he is likely overreacting—and that you are more than capable of protecting yourself and your daughter—but you always check in with him when plans change. His phone rings… and rings… and rings… then he hears your voice.
“Hey! This is Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes. I’m sorry I missed your call; leave a message and your number. I’ll give you a call back when I can.”
Bucky clenches his jaw, an uncomfortable feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Something is wrong, but he just isn’t sure what.
He pulls his shoes back on, deciding to head to the Avenger’s Compound. It’s possible that if something came up, you’d head over without calling him. He doubted it, though. Biting his lip as he takes the stairs down as quickly as he can, he pulls up his contacts on his cell. He calls Natasha, Wanda, Sam, Steve; he asks if they had heard from you. They all say the same thing: No.
He calls you again. You still don’t answer. He’s never gotten to the Compound quicker.
“Woah, Buck. Calm down,” Steve says, trying to calm his best friend. “I’m sure everything is fine. Maybe she just left her phone at the park?”
“I checked the park!” Bucky yells, harsher than he means. He drags his hand over his face, taking a grounding breath. “I checked the park,” he says. Calmer. “I went there before I came here. They weren’t there, and I didn’t see her phone anywhere. I checked Becca’s favorite spots; I don’t think they’d go anywhere else.” He purses his lips, making eye contact with his friend.
“I have a bad feeling, Steve. Something happened.”
As if on cue, Natasha walks in the room to join the super soldiers.
“Tony’s been tracking her phone. Her cell connected to a tower in Germany approximately 20 minutes ago.”
“Germany?” Steve asks, eyebrows knitting together.
“Germany,” Natasha confirms, eyeing Bucky nervously.
Bucky turns Natasha’s words over carefully in his head, mouth silently forming the word “Germany.” He looks up at his best friend, then at your best friend, and purses his lips tightly together. He says nothing. Steve and Natasha share a look.
Silent Bucky is not a good sign.
Bucky let’s his body drop into a chair in the conference room Steve had pulled him into for privacy. He rests his elbows on his knees, lets his head fall into his hands. His worst fear, he realizes, is coming to fruition. He takes several deep, unsteady breaths before finally sitting up and facing his fellow Avengers.
“What else do we know?” He finally asks evenly.
“Mommy! Watch this!” Rebecca Barnes yells, making eye contact with you from the swings.
“I’m watching, baby,” you assure her. She smiles wide in response, and you can’t help but smile back.
Rebecca is only 4, but she thinks she’s older. She had watched the older kids jump from the swings and she was intent on copying them. If she could pump her legs enough to swing high, you wouldn’t let her, but she was unable to swing more than a couple feet without being pushed.
The little girl pumps her legs as hard as she can before she lets go of the swing’s chains and hops out. She lands unsteadily on her feet, but she manages to stay upright. She grins proudly, running up to you.
“Mommy! Did you see me? Did you see me?” She jumps up and down excitedly at your feet.
You smile proudly. “I did, you little daredevil!” You ruffle her hair.
You crouch down to Rebecca’s eye level, pushing a fly-away hair from her face.
“We need to go soon. We promised Daddy we’d have lunch with him, and you know how grumpy he gets when he doesn’t eat,” you tease.
Rebecca scrunches her face, putting her little hands on her hips like she’s seen you do. “He does get grumpy! Can I play a little longer, though?”
“Sure thing, sweet pea. But only 5 more minutes.”
She nods excitedly before running back to the swings, lying on her stomach to pretend to fly. You pull your phone out to double check the time before slipping it into your sports bra, a habit you developed to keep Becca from stealing it.
Five minutes pass and you call your daughter back to you. She pouts a little as she takes your hand, but when you remind her she has to go home to tell her dad about the park, she perks back up. The two of you begin your trek through the park back towards your apartment. Rebecca talks for most of it, pointing out flowers and bugs she sees, and boasting that she can count to 20 now.
The two of you are nearing the park’s entrance when you feel someone’s eyes on you. Cautiously, you start taking careful note of your surroundings, but you can’t pinpoint who or what has you uneasy. Clenching your jaw nervously, you scoop Rebecca into your arms, ignoring her protests. “Hush, baby,” you tell her softly, willing your legs to move faster.
You almost make it out of the park.
You wake up in what seems to be the back of some sort of aircraft, your head killing you. You raise a hand to the back of your head to find a tender bump. You groan. As you come to, memories of your morning at the park come racing back: watching Becca on the swings, walking home, the uneasy feeling in your gut.
You sit up straighter when you remember how uneasy you felt and slowly starting to put two and two together that you’d been kidnapped. In a panic, your eyes take in your surroundings in search of your daughter. You let out a breath of relief when you see her lying a couple feet to your right. You scramble over to her, pulling her into your arms. She’s unconscious still, but breathing. You check her for injury, and she seems relatively fine. There’s a spot of dried blood on her neck, though, and you think your captors must have drugged her.
Your captors. You hold your daughter tightly to your chest as you look around for any clues as to who took you. The taste of copper fills your mouth as you look, and you realize you’d been biting your cheek in your anxiety.
You spit the blood out of your mouth, grimacing at the sight of it.
Then you begin to catalogue what resources you might have to protect yourself and your daughter. You note that other than the bump on your head and the needle prick on Becca’s neck, the two of you have been left alone. That’s when you realize your phone is still in your bra. You glance around the aircraft, eyes settling on a camera in the corner.
You’re being watched.
You swallow, holding Becca closer to you, and decide not to pull out your phone. The longer your captors don’t know you have it, the more likely your phone can be tracked, and the more likely the Avengers—and more importantly, Bucky—can find you.
»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««
ko-fi
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mynameismckenziemae · 3 months
Text
In Case You Didn’t Know Part 1
(next part here)
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You
Summary: Jake and Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Mason (you) have been best friends since diapers. You’ve been there for each other every step of the way; middle school bullies, broken hearts, baseball games, grad school and the Navy. Jake’s shaken to the core when a mission goes south and he takes his medical leave at home, knowing you’re the only thing that’ll make him feel okay again.
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Warnings: 18+ MDNI-this chapter doesn’t contain smut but future ones will, discussions of death and cancer, swearing, etc.
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
Jake always thought the whole ‘life flashes before your eyes when you’re about to die’ saying was bullshit.
But as his jet plummets toward the ground and smoke fills the cockpit, he realizes it’s true; with one exception.
Every memory features you.
The engine failure alarms serve as the background music to each one that flies by. On the first day of kindergarten when you took his hand to lead him inside because he was too scared to go in alone. Being each other’s first kiss the night before Becca Wilson’s birthday party since seven minutes in heaven was rumored to happen. The relieved smile when you found out you were allowed to play on the boy’s high school baseball team since there weren’t enough girls for softball. How you blushed at his whistle when you walked down the stairs in your prom dress. The way you melted when he handed you the black lab puppy you wanted so badly after grad school but couldn’t afford. Finally, the heart-wrenching sobs as he held you when cancer stole your mom 6 months ago. He never wanted to hear it again.
Will you cry like that if he dies?
“No,” he mutters, picturing your tears, your devastation.
Is it better or worse that you don’t know he’s in love with you?
“Hangman, I need you to eject,” your voice whispers.
His brow furrows. You’ve never called him by his callsign.
“Charlie?” He mumbles, unconsciousness fighting to pull him under.
“HANGMAN! EJECT!” Rooster screams, pleading over the radio.
He snaps out of it and adrenaline pumps through his veins when he sees the ground rapidly approaching.
Everything goes black when he pulls the ejection handle.
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
“…recovery is at least 12 weeks. We’ll get you transferred to NHCP-“
“No. I’m going home,” Jake interrupts the doctor. He hates everything medical; between the needles, blood, fluorescent lighting, antiseptic smells, he feels like he could crawl out of his skin.
“Lt. Seresin, you’re going to need a lot of assistance. Help showering, stairs are out of the question, you can’t drive, daily physical therapy-“
“I know. I’ll have help at home and I know a great physical therapist,” Jake says in a tone that leaves no room for discussion.
The doctor hesitates before resigning with a sigh. “Alright. I’ll get the write the orders and finish your discharge paperwork so we can get you out of here.”
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
A loud crash from your front porch has you sitting straight up in bed with a racing heart.
The hair on your dog’s (named Cash, after the Man in Black himself) back stands straight up as he growls low in his throat.
You slip out of bed and pick up the baseball bat you keep by your bed before creeping down the hall behind your dog.
“Charlie? It’s me,” Jake groans through the door. Cash relaxes when he hears Jake’s familiar voice and his tail starts to wag excitedly.
You drop the bat and throw it open. “What are you doing here at 5 in the morning?!” You laugh, but it dies when you see him on the ground. “Oh my God, Jake! What happened?! Are you okay?!” You gasp, crouching to help him onto his back. Cash stays back, sensing something isn’t right.
“I lost my balance on the step trying to juggle my suitcase and these fucking crutches,” he grits out, trying to right himself.
“Leave the crutches. I’ll hand them to you once I get you up. On three, okay? 1,2,3,” you say, hoisting him to his feet. Well, foot.
But before you can hand him the crutches, he wraps you in a tight hug with a choked sob.
“Oh Jake,” you whisper, tears prickling in your own eyes. You’ve only seen him cry a handful of times, and never like this.
You rub soothing circles on his back, only releasing him when he finally relaxes. “Let’s get you inside and off that leg.”
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
“You look like awful,” you observe as you get him settled on your couch.
“Thanks,” he grimaces when you elevate his foot.
“What am I working with here?” You nod to his cast.
“Fractured the 2 bones in my lower leg. Nothing else is broken, I’m sore everywhere and my shoulders are pretty bruised too, but I was lucky.”
“You had to eject,” you conclude when he pulls his collar to show you the dark purpling.
“Yeah, in a heavily wooded area, hence the scratches on my face. I suppose it was a good thing though, slowed me down a little before I hit the ground.”
You bite your lip to stop the many questions on the tip of your tongue. He looks so exhausted, in pain, and not ready to talk about it yet.
“I’ll make us something to eat and I’m going back to sleep for a bit. You look like you could some too.”
He nods in agreement. “I haven’t slept in days…I just wanted to get home.”
“Well, now you are and can rest. I’ll be back in a few.”
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
“Here, take these,” you hand him some over-the-counter pain meds and a glass of orange juice once he has some food in his stomach.
“Thanks, I’m sorry to drop in like this. I don’t-I didn’t think things through, I just needed to get out of that hospital-“
“It’s okay,” you interrupt, unable to watch him getting more and more anxious. “Really, Jake. You know I’m always here for you. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Charlie. So much,” he says, voice cracking. But he clears his throat and changes the subject. “This couch is amazing, but do you really need 50 pillows?”
You swallow the lump in your throat and roll your eyes. “Yes, I really do,” you say, smacking him gently with one of the said pillows before handing him the remote. “Wanna find something to watch while I throw these in the dishwasher?”
“Sure, thanks again.”
“Welcome,” you reply, ruffling his hair like you always have. It used to drive him crazy but now he relishes those touches.
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
“Yessssss, Joe Dirt! I haven’t seen this in ages,” you say, throwing a blanket over him as you come back to the living room.
“We watched it last time I was home,” Jake says, giving you a look.
“Yeah, that was 5 months ago though,” you reply. Recalling why he was here.
Your mom had died early on a Tuesday morning. It was as peaceful as it could be when cancer ravishes someone so quickly. Cash was curled around your legs as you held one of her hands in yours, while Jake’s mom, Ruth held the other. Jake’s sister, Emma, played with the short hair that started to grow back when she stopped the chemo like she always did when she was little. Jake’s dad, Tom had a hand on her leg while he hummed ‘I’ll Fly Away’.
Jake’s family left once the funeral home took her body away after much convincing and reassuring that you were fine, and finally you could fall back into bed. That’s where you stayed for the next 18 hours until Jake found you, so empty and unlike yourself. He was on his way home when he found out Lisa had taken a turn for the worst, but she went downhill quicker than anyone expected. Your first tears fell as he climbed into bed and held you when the sobs wracked your body.
You’re not sure what strings he pulled but he stayed with you for 3 weeks. He helped you bathe and dry your hair the day of the funeral, making you smile when he said he couldn’t do make up. He held your hand at the service, and talked to everyone who approached to give their sympathies so you didn’t have to. He cleaned up her room, packed her clothes into totes, and arranged for the hospital bed to be taken away so you didn’t have to look at it.
“You could go years without watching it and be able to recite it by heart with how many times we’ve seen this movie,” Jake sighs dramatically.
“It’s my favorite. Can you blame me? Look at that mullet.”
“That’s what does it for ya? Maybe I’ll have to grow one,” Jake jokes, lifting his head as you sit down and resting back down on your thighs. Cash jumps up on the other side, resting his head between Jake’s and your stomach.
“Don’t tease me, you’ll turn me on with that visual,” you laugh. “Can you do the white-trash facial hair too? That combination? Phew! Panty dropping!”
He looks up from your lap and laughs for the first time since the accident.
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
The tension leaves his body as your fingers run through his hair, and he’s asleep within minutes.
Your chest tightens as you look him over; the dark circles under his eyes, a cut under his chin has stitches that will need to come out soon, the purple bruising by his shoulders when you shift his collar, and his leg swelling above the cast.
Yet he’s as beautiful as ever. He’s always been attractive-cute as a boy, hot as a teenager but downright mouth-watering as a man. You started to develop feelings in high school and hoped when you went your separate ways after that those feelings would fizzle out, but they didn’t. They were always simmering on the back burner with the absence, rising to the top with every reconciliation and boiling over when he took care of you 6 months ago.
You aren’t sure how Jake feels. He’s always been a flirt but sometimes you catch the heat in his eyes and the way he reaches for you before catching himself. As much as you long to find out, you aren’t willing to risk ruining your friendship.
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
Jake’s choking, panicked gasps wake you a few hours later.
“Jake, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead before you think better of it.
His eyes fly open and his panicked gaze meets yours. Cash comes over and nudges Jake's hand with his nose, whining until Jake puts his hand on his head.
“Take some deep breaths with me. In…one, two, three. Hold…one, two, three. Out…one, two, three. Good Jake, again.”
You repeat it until his breathing regulates.
“Charlie, we need to talk. I need you…r help.”
•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•
A/N: I think this is the first thing I’ve written without smut. Don’t worry, it’s coming. Sorry this was a little short, but it felt like a good stopping point.
Fun fact: Joe Dirt is the movie my husband and I watched the first time we hung out (back in 2009 🥴)
Every interaction is appreciated but I really like hearing what you think ☺️ Especially since this is the first time I’ve written something not based around smut haha.
Tagging:
@mamachasesmayhem
@its-the-pilot
@dizzybee03
@sweetwhispersofchaos
@shanimallina87
@blindedbythelightt
@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth
@lexixstewart
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@mrsrobertfloyd5
@charmedkim
@k-k0129
@bellaireland1981
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@amiets2
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@eli2447
@atarmychick007
@vixenobrian
@86laura11
@hisredheadedgoddess28
@dempy
@angelbabyyy99
@buckysteveloki-me
@djs8891
@mizzzpink
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Just a little angst that I thought of while at work today.
Eddie realizes too late what that look on Steve’s face meant in the forest and later after Vecna is defeated. That look. You know the one. The one that is warm and fond and adoring all at once. Or as Eddie realizes as Steve gives the same look to his new girlfriend, Becca, utterly in love. A look that used to be all Eddie’s. He was the only one that Steve looked at that way. But not anymore.
She’s sweet and lovely and as much as Eddie wants to hate her he can’t, because she likes him, too. She’s everything Steve deserves and more. He can’t even be mad about it.
So Eddie starts to pull away. What else can he do? He can’t watch Steve be with her, it hurts too much.
One night at a party, probably a birthday of one of the kids, one they both have to attend, Eddie is watching Steve and Robin comes up to him to ask him if he’s okay.
He’s not. How could he ever be? He could have had Steve and lost the chance. Robin understands. She offers to cover for him if he wants to go home. And that’s when the room starts spinning. Maybe the feelings aren’t just emotional, maybe he’s coming down with something, too.
Robin offers to take him home and have Wayne drop her off at home on his way to work. She goes to make excuses with everyone and Steve tells her that Eddie needs anything to let him know.
Steve wants to be the one to take him, the protector that he is. But he knows. He has no right. No claim on Eddie. So he lets Robin take Eddie home.
Two days later, Eddie is still sick. Doctors say it’s the flu. He’s miserable and alone and he can’t tell what hurts more, his head or his heart. Wayne has gone to work and Eddie can’t even move at this point. And then he feels a cool hand on his head. It’s safe and it’s comforting. He opens his eyes and sees Steve knelling there, brushing his hair back in soothing motions.
“Where’s...” Eddie frowns. “Fuck, I can barely remember my own name at the moment...girlfriend person...”
Steve chuckles. “Visiting her grandmother in Florida.”
Eddie frowns. “But you’ve only been dating a couple months...why big trip?”
Steve is still smoothing Eddie’s hair. “Goes every year at this time. It’s not a big deal.”
“Could have gone with her?” Eddie asks. His head is starting to feel better with every stroke of Steve’s hand.
“Too early for that, I think,” Steve mutters. “What do you need, sunshine? Let me take care of you.”
Eddie knows he shouldn’t, but he’s sick and he’s tired and needs comfort, so he let’s him. Let’s it slip how he feels about Steve, too. But he doesn’t remember that. 
“Missed you,” he mutters before Steve leaves for the night.
“Missed you too, Eds.”
A week later and Eddie’s feeling better. He wakes up to a knock on the trailer door. When he answers it, there is Steve. Beautiful, wonderful, amazing Steve.
Steve tells him that Becca broke up with him. And Eddie is shocked. He’s even more shocked when Steve is surprisingly chill about it.
“What happened?” Eddie asks once they’re seated on the sofa.
“Apparently her best friend that she grew up with in Florida told her that he loved her and that he always had.”
“So you got dumped because she was in love with this best friend person?” Eddie asks incredulously.
Steve laughs. “It’s okay because I told her I was in love with my best friend, too.”
“Uh...” Eddie says, “Robin’s gay, dude.”
Steve laughs harder. “No! She’s my Platonic soulmate. You’re my best friend, Eds.”
Eddie blinks. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he says again as the realization dawns. And then breaths a sigh of relief when Steve finally kisses him.
 “You absolute menace,” Steve says fondly.
Eddie blushes. “Yeah, but I’m your menace.”
“Yes, you are,” Steve says. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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folkloresthings · 8 months
Note
BECCA!! Congrats on 1k, I love your writing and I’m glad so many other people do too <3
NORTHANGER ABBEY — send a muse + your favourite trope and i’ll write a drabble/blurb.
Could you do Sebastian Vettel + pining/unrequited love but with a happy end? (Kind of à la Amy & Laurie in little women??)
AMY AND LAURIE CODED!!! spot the little women refs
SOMEDAY. ❨ sebastian vettel x reader ❩
✩⡱ warnings: mention of v*mit
the light of sebastian’s presence had lit your life for as long as you could — or wanted to remember. young when you’d first met, you at nineteen and him twenty—four, donning his red bull gear and a world championship. the bar in which you had met wasn’t anything special, tucked away in the heart of valencia. you were travelling with friends, he was working his way towards his second championship.
it was easy to spot him across the bar, all blonde curls and dazzling eyes. a woman hung on his arm, whispering in his ear while a friend—of—a—friend introduced you both. he’d barely looked at you, probably to preoccupied with how the woman’s hands were wandering further south by the minute.
your best friend was more of a racing fan than you, and had coincidentally planned the route of your travels across europe to coincide with the grand prix schedule. the next time you saw him was in budapest, nursing the same drink he’d had in spain but arms bare of playthings for the night.
“vodka soda, please.”
“i remember you,” he had slurred, pointing aimlessly towards you as you spoke across to the barman. “valencia!”
you assumed his exclamation of the city was his connecting of the dots, so you sent him a nod and a small smile. “yeah, we both know joseph.”
“joseph, right,” sebastian mused, vague familiarity dancing across his features. “good guy.”
he looked just as handsome that night as he had in valencia, though slightly drunker. you had heard the tales of the good—looking german driver, your friend spent most of your train journeys across countries gushing about him and half a dozen other names you didn’t recognise.
“here, my treat,” sebastian quickly cut across you before you could pay, shoving a few euros into the barman’s hand. you didn’t bother arguing — he was a world famous formula one driver and you were a full time university student. he could afford a vodka soda better than you could.
“thank you, sebastian.”
“you’re welcome…” he trailed off, searching desperately in his memory for your name.
“y/n,” you offered, a grin tugging at your lips. you couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed at his lack of attention, not when his eyes were shining up at you the way they were. he repeated it, your birthright sounding far nicer on his tongue than your own. he’d shaken your hand then, ordering an apology round of shots for his “shameful behaviour”.
a few hours later, you held his belongings as he vomited into an empty alleyway. the streets of budapest were practically deserted, town clock chiming three in the morning. sebastian’s challenge of shot after shot soon became a competition with only himself, ending up much drunker than yourself and with no one around to supervise his stupidity.
thankfully, tucked somewhere in his pocket, was the address of his hotel. you got him there, eventually, after a few stops to sit down or sebastian’s several attempts to climb a wall. you took him all the way to him room, getting him into bed and leaving a note and some painkillers by his side.
from then on, you were friends. even when you went back to university, he did all he could to fly you out to races and let you see a little more of the world. australia, japan, abu dhabi… you’d been there to see him win every world championship, to hug him and celebrate with one too many drinks afterwards. you were still always the one to tuck him in after.
the only problem was, amongst this wonderful friendship, you were completely and utterly in love with him.
he didn’t feel the same. you figured that out one night in monaco when he took you for dinner and snuck you down to the beach afterwards. you kissed him on the sand, naive and innocent, only twenty and unsure of what this would mean. he’d been kind about it, sweet as ever, letting you indulge yourself before letting you down slowly.
“maybe someday, when you’re older.”
his words played in your mind like a broken record every birthday from them on. would this be the year? you tried going out with other boys, but none of them compared to him. your sebastian. every year you got older, so did he, and soon you were twenty—six and him thirty—one.
in those years, you were glad for his wise, older words. they’d kept your friendship intact, giving you your person — the one you could talk to in good times and bad. no matter how painful your love for him was, never fading over time, you kept it all down for the sake of keeping him in your life.
“penny for your thoughts?” sebastian’s usual teasing tone pulls you from your thoughts, the montage of your relationship playing in your head. you glance up at him, forcing on a smile.
“sorry, zoned out for a minute,” you breathed out a laugh, smoothing down the skirt of your dress in the mirror. “how do i look? do i look alright?”
sebastian took a moment to let his eyes rake over your body. the dress was a pale blue colour, adorned with pale white flowers that floated about your ankles. he could only describe it as soft, a light summer dress that moved with the wind but hugged your lines perfectly. god, you were heavenly.
“you look beautiful. you are beautiful.” sebastian’s face had softened considerably, looking at you in a way that could almost be mistaken for love. you stare at him, yearning to decipher the thoughts in his head, but you come up empty.
inhaling some feeling back into your body, you move from his gaze. “i better go. robb will be waiting.”
robb. sebastian had been with you when you met. a grand event, drivers and socialites alike. sebastian had gone to get you both a drink when he returned to find the man flirting with you. you were smiling and laughing, your hand finding it’s place on the man’s arm. sebastian turned on his heel and left you to it, finishing both of your drinks in his stride.
since then, you had been to dinner with robb twice. he was charming, funny and sweet, knew just how to woo you. admittedly, you struggled to find the spark that people often spoke of, but you were willing to pass it up for a chance at some kind of romance. sebastian, however, found himself battling with this strange feeling in his stomach every time you spoke to him about robb.
he could feel it again now, watching you skip off to meet your date. twisting and tugging, nausea rising in his chest. it was a new feeling, and one that he hated having. it was selfish of him but he couldn’t help it — you had been his for so long, only his, and now you were slipping away.
“ — but it’s far too cold there to live all year…” chuckling at robb’s latest tale, you felt the words on your tongue fade as he appeared nearby. you had told sebastian where you and robb were going, a small jazz bar with expensive cocktails and live music. so why had he come?
“seb?”
he smiled, brows furrowing in faux confusion. “oh, hey you two. fancy seeing you here.”
if looks could kill, sebastian would be six feet under by now. your glare was cold, but missed completely by robb as he engaged in conversation with your friend. for the next thirty minutes, you didn’t say a word. you didn’t get a chance, with robb asking sebastian a million questions on racing and the latter gladly entertaining him.
“excuse me,” you muttered, grabbing your bag and pushing yourself from the chair. your date barely noticed, staring at a picture on sebastian’s phone. the blonde watched you go, snatching his device back and following you without a second thought.
“hey, y/n! wait!” he hurried after you down the street, struggling to keep up with your hurried pace. “y/n!”
his arm reached out to grab you, spinning you on your heel to face him. he knew with one look that you were mad, and he suddenly regretted every choice he’d made that evening. “what?”
“where are you going?” he asked, rather sheepish.
“i’m going home, sebastian,” your voice was sharp, cheeks red with anger and embarrassment. “my date seems pretty occupied with you in there, so i’m leaving.”
“no, wait…” he grappled desperately, grabbing at your wrist again to keep you there. his lips part, searching for an excuse, but nothing comes out.
“you knew i was coming here tonight! why would you show up when you knew?” seething, tears pricked at your eyes. you cursed yourself for the german making you such a mess. “i told you how excited i was and you purposely came to ruin it! why?”
sebastian sighed, silent. all of that jealously turned to hatred, for himself and his stupid, stupid heart. ��i’m sorry.”
you looked at him, waiting for more. needing more than just that.
“i’m sorry, i just — i hated seeing you so happy,” as soon as it was out, as soon as he saw your face twist, he knew it didn’t sound right. “no, shit. not like that. i wasn’t the one making you happy and it felt awful. i didn’t want to see you with anyone else. y/n… i’ve been such an idiot.”
the words sunk in as he tried to tangle his fingers in you, squeezing himself closer to you in the street. your head shook, backing away with every inch he moved closer.
“no, no. seb, don’t do this,” you muttered, ignoring his pleas for your forgiveness. you felt dizzy, all of this coming to soon. “seb, you’re being mean. stop it.”
with your voice sterner, he took a step back.
“i’ve waited for you for seven years. i waited and you never came, but the second i find somebody else you figure it out?” tongue laced with disbelief, you felt your feet stumble on the cobbles below. sebastian reached out to you, worry crossing his face. he felt terrible. he’d put you through so much and expected even more.
“i know,” sebastian whispered, daring to step closer again. you let him now, proving yourself weak to his affection once again. his hand finds your cheek, warming it from the night air, your head resting against his hold. “i’m a fool. i didn’t realise it before but i’ve been in love with you for so long. i don’t know when it happened, but it did. and there’s nothing i can do about it but beg you to forgive me.”
your eyes turn soft, melting into his confessional. everything you’d waited for and dreamed of, the words that haunted you for years of sleepless nights. it was happening and none of it felt real. seven years of wanting it, and now you were hesitant.
“will you forgive me?” sebastian pleads, thumbs rubbing gently at the flesh of your cheeks. his lips, ready for yours, but not until you are. “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. i promise.”
you smile, because how can you not? when he’s looking at you like you’re the one who hung the moon and the stars — but he’s the sun. your sun, your light, your love.
“yes.” it’s a whisper when it finally comes, but he hears it. his own smile creeps up, squeezing you in delight.
“yes?” he repeats, waiting for you to confirm it again. you do, and he wastes no time in kissing you. not like that night on the beach, young and unsure, but full of love and certainty. because he loves you, with everything he is, and he needs to show you. all soft lips and daring tongues, arms winding around your waist to pull you flush to him.
he loves you and you love him. at the end of the day, or seven years, there’s nothing else that really matters.
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lunarbuck · 1 year
Note
Jane!! I'm so excited for you and your 1.5k followers! Thanks for letting me be part of the things. In an effort to help you pick back up with BFB!Bucky, do you think we can see some sexy times? Maybe early on when they're still keeping it a secret?
I'm sorry i've made you wait like over a year for anything from this AU 😭 I hope you enjoy this!!!
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moodboard is for vibes only, not what reader looks like
Thinking This Through
pairing: bfb!buck x f!reader (any race)
wc: 1.7k
summary: A secret night with Bucky (from his POV)
warnings: secret relationship, fluff, pet names [pretty girl, baby, boo bear], oral (f receiving), smut (p in v), swearing
a/n: this part takes place before part 2 so it's technically out of order!! it's also in bucky's pov which was fun :)))
series masterlist | au playlist | my masterlist | 1.5k sleepover Title is a lyric from the 1975's song I'm in Love With You
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I catch her eye from across the bar and find myself smirking into my beer. No matter where she is, no matter how many people are in the room, I always manage to find her. It’s like she fucking calls to me, a siren singing her beautiful song to lure me in.
Well fuck it, I don’t care if she’s a siren. I want her all to myself. 
Some girl slides up next to me, getting way too close for comfort, and batts her long eyelashes at me. “You wanna buy me a drink?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I can tell she bleaches it too much; it looks fried. 
“Not really,” I reply, not caring to soften my tone for this girl. Maybe before I would’ve bought her one, maybe I would’ve entertained whatever this girl is trying to accomplish, but not anymore. Not since Becca’s gorgeous best friend turned my world upside down.
“You sure?” I feel the girl’s long, manicured fingers squeeze my arm, and I have to bite back the urge to tell her I’m taken. We’re not telling people yet. Neither of us are ready for the consequences of Becca finding out. 
“He’s sure,” Steve says, patting me on the back. The girl rolls her eyes as Steve shoos her away, but I don’t bother watching her leave. My eyes are back on the only girl I want to see tonight and every night.
She smiles at me brightly before her friend snags her attention again. Steve orders us another round as I text her. I want her with me tonight; I don’t care where we end up. I just want us together.
Bucky: You got plans after this, pretty girl?
Boo Bear: hm… i’m not sure yet
Bucky: Boo Bear? Really?
Boo Bear: i’m surprised it took you this long to notice
Bucky: anyways, i’ve decided you have plans we’re going home together in 20 minutes. 
Boo Bear: becca’s hanging out with ethan tonight, she said she won’t be home until after her class tomorrow morning
Bucky: perfect, see you in a few, boo bear
I try not to smile too hard at my phone, especially with Steve standing right next to me. He’s caught me practically kicking my feet while I text her way too many times. It’s becoming a problem at this point. 
Steve and I shoot the shit for a bit, and I pay my tab, shooting off another text to my girl, letting her know to meet me across the street. A few minutes later, I see her exit the crowded bar. She looks fucking fantastic, good enough to eat. Her jeans are tight in all the right places, and her top shows off enough skin to make my mouth water.
I never get over how perfect she looks, no matter what she wears or where we are. I don’t know how I held off for so long; I’m addicted now. 
“Hey, boo bear,” I whisper once she’s close enough. I tug her close and breathe her in, pressing a kiss to her neck. 
“Hey, Buck.”
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The second the door shuts behind us, I’m on her. I press her against the wall, loving how soft she is against my body. Her hands grip my shirt, nails gently scraping against my chest. I kiss her deeply, tasting her.
“You’re gonna kill me, Buck,” she whispers, nipping at my lip. I dip my head, kissing along the soft skin of her neck as my hands trace down her body. I hook my arms under her legs and pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist. 
“You got it all wrong, pretty girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.” I walk us to the couch and sit, positioning her on my lap, and she immediately grinds her hips against me, drawing a groan out of me. 
I tug at the bottom of her shirt until she lifts her arms, letting me pull it over her head, and I bite back a moan at the sight of her in just her bra and tight jeans. My lips immediately attack her collarbone, biting and nipping a trail down to her perfect tits.
She watches me, lips parted, as my hands find their way to her back, undoing the clasp on her bra. When I pull the garment away, she shivers, and I practically come in my goddamn pants. 
“I love when you look at me like that,” she whispers, fingers tugging at my hair. I take one of her nipples in my mouth, running my tongue over the bud. She gasps, gripping me tighter. 
While I tease her with my mouth, my left hand traces her skin, the metal cool against her heated body, and my right finds the button on her jeans.
“Pants. Off, Now,” I tell her.
“Ooh, Caveman Bucky is coming out to play,” she teases, standing on shaky legs to strip her jeans off. I shift until I’m sitting on the edge of the couch, my eyes level with her belly, and gaze up at her. 
She’d never believe her if I told her, but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. 
I run my fingers along the band of her panties; she’s ticklish there, before I tug them down her legs. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Buck,” she tells me, reaching for my shirt. I let her pull it off of me, my jeans following soon after, and before I know it, I have her pressed into the couch with my head between her legs. 
I love the way she grips my hair, showing me exactly what she wants while I eat her out. My hips grind against the couch, seeking any sort of friction I can find. I work her up with my tongue and fingers, desperate to feel her come.
Her face twists up, and she makes these beautiful breathy sounds, and I know she’s close. “Come on, baby, come for me,” I practically grunt, circling her clit the way she likes.
She comes with my name on her lips, and I can’t help but smile, knowing I’m the one that gets to do this to her, the one that gets to have her like this. I shift off the couch and pick her up, carrying her to her room. 
I settle her onto the bed, kiss her until she’s breathless one more time, and run out into the main room to grab our clothes. We can never be too careful. Once I’m back, I pounce on her. I’m starving when it comes to my girl. I can never get enough.
“Please, Bucky,” she whines when I settle myself between her legs. She can feel how much I want her, how badly I’m aching for her, but I need her to beg a little more.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper. She knows what I want her to say.
“Fuck, Bucky, please fuck me.” I grin and sit up, watching her writhe on the bed. I fucking love her like this.
“You want me to fuck your pretty pussy?” I ask her, running my thumb over her sensitive clit. 
“Please, please, please,” she chants, giving in to the feeling. 
“Your wish is my command, baby.” I line my cock up with her and slowly press in, gritting my teeth at how tight she is. Once I’m fully inside her, I don’t move slow; I don’t give her much of a warning before I set a quick, deep pace.
I kiss her all over, needing to feel her everywhere. Her hands grip my back, scratching her nails against my skin, and I love that I’ll probably have marks tomorrow. Steve’ll probably give me shit, but I can’t wait. 
I lose myself in fucking her, in pouring myself into the beautiful girl below me. She’s blissed out, loving the pleasure I give her. I press deeply inside of her, making her moan. She clenches around me, and I know she’s close again.
I help her turn over, lifting her hips into the air. She settles her upper body onto the mattress, and I have to groan at how perfect she looks like this. Gripping her hips, I press back into her and fuck her, my dick hitting deeper inside her in this position. 
She’s a bumbling mess, moaning incoherently, and a sense of pride bubbles up in me. I know I won’t last much longer, so I reach around and find her clit again, bringing her back up to her peak.
“Come on, pretty girl.” She presses her hips against me, begging me to keep going. “I know you wanna come again; you wanna come all over my dick, don’t you?” She nods even though her face is pressed into the mattress.
“Yes, Bucky.”
“Then come for me, baby. I wanna see you come on my cock.” I fuck her harder, picking up the pace on her clit, and a few moments later, she comes hard, sending me over the edge right along with her. 
Together, we collapse onto the bed, and I pull her close, needing the skin to skin contact. I know I need to get up and grab a towel so I can clean her up, but right now, this is where I need to be. I need to be wrapped up in my girl.
As we’re catching our breath, I hear the front door click open, and the familiar sound of my sister’s voice rings loudly through the apartment. I roll my eyes as I stand, looking for my boxers. I look over at my girl and see her frantically searching for her phone. When she grabs it, she shows me a text from Becca saying that since Ethan’s roommate is home, they’re coming back here.
I stifle a laugh; we always have shit luck with this stuff. We settle back into bed and wait for Becca and Ethan to find their way into Becca’s room, but in the meantime, I enjoy cuddling with my beautiful girl.
I want to go public. I want to tell Becca. I hate all this secret stuff, even though it’s fun sometimes. Hopefully, she feels the same. I press a kiss to her forehead as she scrolls through her various social media apps and make sure she knows just how much I like being here with her.
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series tags: @peaches1958 @prettylittlepluviophile @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @enchantedbarnes @writerwrites @beefybuckrrito @thatblackravenclaw @cloudyfeel @broco8 @searchf0rtheskyline @itsashleektchm @emmabarnes
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pablitogavii · 10 months
Note
MORE JEALOUS GAVI!!!!
I'm her priority!
Long story short, your best friend Rebecca joins on the vacation for the last few days and Pablo become needy for more of your attention hehe :))
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Your POV
We were waiting for her at the airport as I excitedly moved side to side trying to catch a glance off her the sooner the better.
"Bestie!!" I heard her voice and I rushed towards the doors finally seeing her before we hugged tightly in the middle of the airport. Everyone was looking at our little moment and smiling while Pablo walked up and introduced himself.
"I know! You're the hottie that stole my girl's heart?? The infamous Barcelona Golden Boy" she said and you blushed knowing she was ver direct while you were more shy and reserved. Pablo certainly smirked hearing those words while snaking his arm around your waist.
"Let's go grab some drinks while he picks up the luggage" she said and I gave Pablo an apologetic eyes knowing she can be pain to most people with that cockiness but she was still always there for me when I needed it.
"Um..maybe we go with him?" I tried but Pablo interrupted pulling me closer before kissing my lips lovingly reassuring you that it was alright and that he will meet you by the car before giving you the key.
"Holy shit girl! Maserati! I already love your boyfriend!" she said while sitting on the backseat and I rolled my eyes sitting besides her wanting to tell her to watch herself when we meet rest of Pablo's friends.
"You know I love you, but please be careful with the attitude around Pablo and others..I really love him girl" I said and she rose her hands up in surrender promising to behave.
"Alright, we are ready to go" Pablo came back putting the suitcase in the back before passing the backseat waiting for you to get out and sit besides him.
"Um..could I sit here and catch up with Becca cariño??" I said shyly and although unhappy Pablo smiled closing the door and driving us tot he villa.
When we arrived, she looked around in disbelief never in her life seeing such luxury. Although coming from relatively rich family in America, this was on another level.
"Thank you for letting her join us, cariño..I love you!" I said hugging Pablo and kissing his lips before she called my name making him groan silently.
"Anything for mi princesa" he said and I smiled before joining her as we all walked into the villa.
Pablo's POV
This girl was truly the opposite of mi princesa which was odd because they were truly bestest friends. But as long as she was happy, I was proud to be the cause of that gorgeous smile!
"Ai! Mario! Call the others!" I said as everyone joined looking at the two of them holding hands there with big smiles on their face. That should be me holding her hand!
"This is my best friend Rebecca" she said shyly and Mario was quick to grab her hand and pull his magic on her. I swear that guy flirts with every female in the world!
"I'm Mario..maybe I can show you around tonight chiquita??" he said and I had to admit I prayed she said 'yes' so I can be with my girl alone again!
"Mm maybe you can..papito" she winked while my girl blushed looking at me at the mention of that nickname which is still 'our little secret'..she might be shy during the day..but at night underneath me she isn't that reserved.
"This is my sister Aurora and her boyfriend Javi" I said as she shook their hands and complimented Aurora's dress.
"And this is Cristo, Biel, and Ale" she said but the girl kept her gaze on Mario the longest for sure. I could see them together..both were extreme.
"Wanna get changed and walk around bestie??" she said to Y/n who nodded her head much to my dismay as they both left to the guest room with the suitcase.
"Damn hermano, ella es caliente!!" Mario tapped my shoulder before leaving to the pool to finish off his morning beer while Aurora walked up to me looking concerned.
"I know that look, hermanito. She's still your girl even if she doesn't give you all of her attention.." she said but I just played it cool saying that I was fine before going to our shared bedroom and laying down in our bed...fuck it smelled of her perfume and suddenly I missed her more!
"Amor??" it was her sweet voice and I thought I was hallucinating until my eyes opened and there she was standing on the edge of bed looking down at me.
"Come here, princesa.." I opened my arms and she smiled getting on top of me and giving me a tight hug before we started to kiss each other passionately..just what I needed!
"I'm ready bestie!!" Rebecca barged in and she jumped getting off me with red cheeks while putting on her shoes and grabbing a bag. Damn cockblock this girl was!!
"I'll see you later amor!" she told me sending me a kiss and I smiled hating the fact that she was not right here on top of me like a few seconds ago.
Your POV
The more time passed, the more I noticed Pablo acting strange..irritated and moody. I tried to talk to him but he would just say I should enjoy my best friend's company while she is here.
"Is Pablo not coming to the pool??"I asked Aurora who shrugged her shoulders applying some sunscreen on Becca's back and I decided to go check in on him. I overheard him talking to Cristo and Biel in the kitchen.
"And she stole her from me! I can't even be alone for her at night because Rebecca wants to watch movies until two in the morning!" Pablo sounded angry and frustrated but more so than anything..jealous.
"Why don't you just talk to her?" Biel suggested just as I walked in catching their attention as Pablo faked a smile once again.
"Amor, I will just stay with Becca since we watch movie until late.." I said on purpose knowing that would trigger a reaction and it did.
"Que!? No you won't! I'm your boyfriend and you are sleeping only with me! Amor, we should talk about Rebecca.." Pablo said as I walked up to him standing between his legs and holding his face to give him a sweet kiss.
"I was joking, cariño..of course I will only sleep with you" I said and he calmed down a bit but still wanting to talk to me about his little 'jealousy' with my best friend.
"She has you all the time princesa..and I wanted her to come because that would make you happy but..I miss being alone with you..I want to be your priority again!!" Pablo admitted after his friends left us alone to speak.
"You will always be my priority cariño and I promise to talk to her about it..besides she is leaving in two days and then it's only you and me for the rest of the summer cariño" I said and he liked that idea pulling me in closer and kissing my lips lovingly while nodding his head.
"I love the sound of that.." he said while we continued to kiss until Rebecca walked into the kitchen and cough to grab our attention.
"I'll go.." Pablo said sadly and I shook my head grabbing his hand and pulling him back which took him by surprise but in a positive way.
"Um..sorry Becca, but me and Pablo wanted to go to boat alone today" I said and she smiled nodding her head and telling you she was planning on hanging out with Mario finally.
"Perfect! See you later tonight!" I said before pulling Pablo away into our room and he had that infamous "I'm her priority!" smirk on his handsome face.
Pablo's POV
The whole day it was just the tow of us in Formentera while the rest of them were at the villa possibly doing something stupid.
She was laying her head on my chest while tanning her back and I started to undo the top of her swimsuit.
"Que haces cariño??" she said shyly but I knew she knew exactly what I was doing.
"We are alone princesa..so you don't need this anymore" I smirked taking it off and she blushed nodding her head and laying on her back with her nipples hardened and I couldn't help myself but to kiss her chest slowly moving down to her flat stomach..ella es tan perfecta!
"Um..you're so cute when you get jealous cariño" she whispered underneath her breath as I moved up and captured her lips again.
"I wasn't jealous!" I said denying it like always but she saw right through that and I didn't particularly mind. Yes, I was jealous! I want my girl all to myself all the damn time!!
"Of course not! You just want to be my priority" she teased and I smirked nodding my head while resting comfortably between her legs and kissing her lips deeply.
I am her priority!!
Hope you like it anon ;)) JEALOUS GAVI is my fave too!!
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feelmyskinonyourskin · 8 months
Text
Pink Roses [Fake Dating Trope]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Fake Dating situation 1. Two characters pretend to date for some purpose such as social gain, only for real feelings to get involved at some point "Bucky asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend to keep his elderly sister happy. You’re just platonic friends/coworkers, what could possibly go wrong?"
Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst into a happy ending. Reader uses fem pronouns and is referred to as ‘girlfriend’. No use of y/n. Friends to lovers. Reader spends Christmas and Easter with Bucky but doesn’t necessarily celebrate them herself, but they are mentioned.
WC: 7,000 baby!!!! Kicking off the Trope De Sept event strong!
*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*
“Thank you for the flowers by the way, they are beautiful.” Rebecca sighed, playing with the pink petals of the roses in front of her
“Of course Rebecca,” you responded. “Bucky picked them.”
“Oh my, he has good taste. He gets you flowers right?”
“Oh…” her question caught you off guard.
Bucky had merely introduced you by name when you arrived with him to visit his sister for Christmas. You assumed he had warned her he was bringing a coworker, but she seemed to not have gotten the memo and thought your relationship with her brother was something else.
“All the time, Becca. Mom raised me right.” he said, giving you a playful wink as he did
It was a lie, but Rebecca didn’t catch on.
“See I knew my brother was a gentleman. Oh he is so lucky to have you in his life.”
You shot Bucky a curious look and he merely shrugged in response.
The reason you were there with him at all began a few days before, right before Christmas.
“Hey Bucky, just heading out. See you in the New Year!” you said, tying your scarf tightly around your neck, ready to leave the Avengers compound for the two week break from work.
“Hey yeah! Have a good winter break! You got any big plans?” he asked
“No. Keeping it quiet this year.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah I just…I got so sick of my family asking me the same thing and all my cousins flaunting engagement rings, and wedding plans, and ultrasounds, that I just don’t even bother going home for holidays anymore.”
“Oh yeah, I get it. You should meet my sister. I’m going to see her on Christmas and all she does is worry about me. She’s convinced I’m unhappy because I’m single. She literally tries to set me up with every new nurse they hire at her nursing home and I just know most of the Christmas dinner conversation is going to be asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“Oh gosh that sounds fun.” you said with a chuckle
“Hey if you don’t have any big Christmas plans, would you want to come with me? My sister loves company and we can even get takeout afterwards. You know, just so you don’t have to spend Christmas alone?”
“Bucky, that’s very sweet of you. I’d love to. Your sister sounds amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”
“Great. Yeah Rebecca’s a fun time. She’s 98 and still smart as a whip. You’ll love her!”
“Okay sounds like a plan.”
The Crown Heights Senior Living Center knew how to throw a Christmas party, with Rebecca Barnes leading the charge on the caroling group and Bucky helping her coordinate the gift exchange.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a fun time, with a group of octogenarians no less.
“Wow Rebecca! How did Bucky keep a pet racoon in the attic for a whole week without your mother noticing?”
“Well that old Brownstone we lived in was solid. They don’t build them like that anymore. The walls were so thick it took her a while to figure out where the scratching noises were coming from.”
“Yeah well she also got suspicious when I swiped an extra serving of her meatloaf and ran upstairs with it right after dinner.” Bucky chimed in
“Speaking of, Becs they’ll be serving your dinner soon and we’re getting hungry too.” Bucky said, standing and giving his sister a kiss on the forehead
“Darling, it was lovely to meet you.” Rebecca said to you, then turned to her brother “James, please bring your girlfriend around more often, she’s a treat.”
You and Bucky smiled at her and departed the room, making your way down the tinsel decorated hall.
“Awe, she thinks I’m your girlfriend!” you teasingly commented, playfully smacking his arm
“Yeah well, literally every time I visit, she’s trying to set me up with a new nurse they’ve hired and she’s always asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
“Now when I come back to visit next week, she’s gonna ask about you and I’m gonna have to break her heart and tell her I’m still alone and destitute. I…” Bucky trailed off
“What?”
“It’s a dumb idea.”
“What is?”
“What if we… look this might be crazy but. Would you want to, you know, pretend to be my girlfriend? Just come with me to the nursing home every once in a while on like holidays and things? Just to keep my sister happy. I mean she’s 98 years old, there’s not a lot left going on in her life and I’ve literally never seen her more excited.”
“Okay. This is either going to go really well or really poorly. Either way I wanna see it. So yeah. Let’s do it.”
You saw Bucky at work nearly everyday in the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk like all coworkers do. At the beginning of February, he brought up his sister again, mentioning that she asked about you and asking if you’d like to join him to visit her again on Valentine's Day. You agreed.
Bucky gave your front door three knocks and you swung it open to greet him, still fiddling with the clasp on your necklace as you got ready.
“Hey, I’ll be ready in a few.” you said as he entered your apartment, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the bouquet he held in his metal arm.
Pink roses, just like the one’s he’d brought Rebecca at Christmas.
“Oh these are for you.” he said, noticing your gaze traveling to them
“For me? But…”
“Don’t worry I have another bouquet for Becca.” he said, pulling an identical bouquet from behind his back “But at Christmas I told her I got you flowers all the time, so I figured I actually should, you know, not be a liar.”
“Not be a… Bucky, we are quite literally about to go see her and lie to her a bunch! You know, about us.” you gestured between the two of you
Bucky laughed and shook his head.
“Fair, but why lie about one more thing? And besides, I think I owe you more than just a thank you for doing all this.”
“Fair.” you said, mimicking his tone and taking the bouquet from him
As you filled a glass vase in the sink and placed the roses in it, Bucky stepped behind you, grabbing the necklace from where you had placed it on the counter and wordlessly fastened it around your neck.
A chill ran down your spine as his fingers fiddled with the clasp, finally connecting it with the hook and pressing his palm against the back of your neck to lay it flat.
“Now I know you aren’t just spending such a romantic holiday just visiting an old lady. What are your plans? James, how are you romancing your lady today?”
You and Bucky looked at each other nervously. You hadn’t really discussed backstory or any other thing she might want to know about your relationship.
“I’ll tell you later Rebecca, don’t want to ruin any surprises!” Bucky finally spoke up, and you made a point to reach for his right hand, intertwining your fingers with his like any couple might and put on an excited look on your face for the non-existent Valentines plans. His palm was warm as he rubbed his thumb in delicate circles around your hand.
“Oh good! Well don’t let me keep you kids too long!” she exclaimed, shooing you out the door of her room
“Okay we really need to discuss more backstory and stuff before we come here. She’s asking too many questions.” he commented as you walked down the hall
“Bucky, maybe this is a bad idea. Your sister is so sweet and I feel bad lying to her like this.”
“Hey, look, she's happy because she thinks I’m happy. We can call this off if you want, but I really think it’d break her heart if I tell her we broke up. Please, just a few more visits? Just so she doesn’t think I’m totally alone.”
“But you are.”
Bucky shot you a look that you’d only ever seen when Sam got on his nerves.
You gnawed at your bottom lip and gave it some thought, Bucky’s blue eyes staring you down. “Okay. But we need to come up with more of a back story. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee and set some ground rules?”
“It’s a date.”
Your eyes went wide at the word date.
“Sorry. It’s a ‘platonic coworkers pretending to date’ not-date.” he said with a grin
“Fine, but you’re buying.”
“It’s Valentine's Day, it'd be absolutely ungentlemanly of me to not.”
The coffee shop around the corner was decorated for the occasion, with heart-shaped foil garland cascading from the ceiling and a cupid chalk drawing taking up a large portion of the menu board.
The barista topped your hot chocolate’s whipped cream with red and pink sprinkles and Bucky chuckled at the foam heart she drew into the top of his latte.
Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples, all looking gooey-eyed at each other and whispering sweet nothings across the small marble tables.
You were so busy taking in all the displays of love that Bucky had to clear his throat to get your attention, arms stretched out behind you reaching for your coat.
“Oh gosh sorry.” you said, shrugging out of it as he placed it on the hook on the wall and then pulled the wooden chair out for you to sit.
“Shit, your sister is right, you are a good boyfriend.” you said
Bucky rolled his eyes with a smirk and took his seat across from you.
“Okay.” you said, placing your palms on the table in front of you “ground rules.”
“Right, if you want to add a third to the bedroom, it has to be Sam. We made a pact a while back, it’s a long story but sorry it’s the only way...”
“Bucky!”
“Shit doll, sorry! I was kidding! I mean kind of, Sam and I did sort of agree…”
“Bucky!” you cut him off “Look if you don’t want to take this seriously, then fine I can just go and call it here. This is for you and your sister after all.”
“No, dammit I’m sorry, you’re right. Okay, go ahead.” Bucky replied
“Well we need to establish a backstory. And know a little more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious.”
“Okay. You go first. Ask anything you want to know about me.”
“Okay um. What’s your favorite color?”
“Really? You think what’s gonna make us not believable is whether or not you know my favorite color?” he looked at you in disbelief
“I don’t know! What else do couples know about each other?”
“Not sure. I haven’t dated regularly since 1943. It’s blue, by the way. What’s yours?” He responded
“Purple. Is that your usual coffee order?”
“In the winter, yes. In summer, I go for iced coffee.”
“Okay. Um. I guess it might be more important to have some facts about us. As a couple.”
“Right. Like what?”
“Well like where was our first kiss? Or our first date?” you asked
“In Central Park under the Cherry Blossoms. I’m romantic like that.”
“Bucky you told her we just started dating in the fall…”
“Fine, in Central Park under the orange leaves.”
“Who said I love you first?”
“You, obviously” he replied
That made you roll your eyes “Why is it obviously me?”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy to be open with his feelings?”
“No, you're the quietest on the team. It took four months of me working with the Avengers for you to return my good morning greeting everyday with even a nod of acknowledgement.”
Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to say “see I’m right”
“Fine. What’s the most romantic thing you've ever done for me?”
“Decorated your Christmas tree while you were at work.”
“I didn’t have a Christmas tree.”
“Well since all of this is pretend, let’s pretend you did.”
“Fine. While we’re on the subject, what did we get each other for the holidays?”
“I got you that necklace.” he nodded in your direction to the string of delicate pearls he helped you put on earlier. In reality, it’d been a gift you got yourself for your most recent birthday, but you were fine with the alternate story.
“Fine. I guess I got you a Frank Sinatra album for your record player.”
“How’d you know I have a record player?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Is it because I’m old?”
“I mean, yeah maybe…”
He sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly unamused.
“Since I know she’s going to ask next time you see her, what did you do to woo me on Valentine’s Day?” you asked
“Took you to a coffee shop and got you pink roses.” he gestured at the cafe around you, a proud smile on his face
“You know what, it’s actually the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you said with a grin
“See, I am good at this boyfriend thing. What else should we know?”
“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” you asked
“Trick question, neither. I sleep on the floor because of my nightmares.”
“Bucky thats…” you trailed off
“Hey, it's something my girlfriend would know.” Bucky said so casually, as if he had not opened up to you and revealed something incredibly sad and personal about himself.
“Right. Um… what else do you and Rebecca talk about? That way you can think of things to weave into conversation about us that make us seem real.”
“Honestly, we talk a lot about our childhood. She helps me remember a lot of things I’ve forgot thanks to the, ya know” he pointed to his head
You nodded in understanding.
“Anyway, like last week she told me a story I’d totally forgotten about the time Steve and I snuck into the movies and when we got caught, we pretended we didn’t speak English to avoid getting in trouble.”
You listened as Bucky shared more stories about his life in the 30s and 40s, eventually laughing so much and talking so long, the cafe employees had to ask you to leave so they could close up for the evening.
He rode the subway with you to your stop and even walked you to your door as if he were really your Valentine’s date. You felt much better about seeing Rebecca again, confident now that you and Bucky could convincably appear as a real couple after today.
By the time Easter rolled around, you’d established a solid back story and even hung out with Bucky a few times outside of your work relationship to get to know each other better. You always loved every visit with his sister and hanging out with him felt easy.
You were, however, very nervous when Mother’s Day came. You’d finally be meeting Rebecca’s children and grandchildren, all of whom loved their Uncle Bucky, but loved Rebecca even more.
“You seem nervous.” Bucky commented
You had been silent but fidgety the whole subway ride from your apartment to the nursing home. Bucky, of course, picked you up at your front door every time you met, even though it was out of his way from his place to the nursing home.
“I am.” you replied
“Why? Becs loves you. She’s excited to see you again.”
“Yes but I’m meeting everyone else and it’s making me anxious.”
“Why?”
“Because they love you and your sister a lot. I want them to like me”
“I like you so they'll like you.”
“Bucky, you’re only pretending to like me! I love your sister, but it feels a lot easier to trick one old lady than to trick a bunch of people at once into believing we’re real!”
“Okay. First, I do like you. I promise, that part is not pretend.” You know he just meant it platonically, but it still made you blush.
“Secondly,” he continued “Rebecca is the sharpest person I know, so if she’s convinced, then they will be too.”
“I’m still worried they’re gonna find out and kill me.”
“Hey” he reassured “They won’t find out and they won’t kill you and even if they try, like they’re gonna get past me.” he wiggled his metal fingers in your face.
“She hasn’t said anything right? Like she isn’t getting suspicious?”
“Doll, take a chill pill. Even if she figures it out, it’s on me not you. I’m her brother, remember?”
“I know but Bucky she’s been so sweet and nice to me and I adore her and I don’t want to let her down!”
“You won’t, now just relax.”
Rebecca’s son, Scott, had prepared a fabulous meal and as you all sat around a table in the community room of the nursing home eating, her daughter Kim gave a beautiful speech about how Rebecca taught her to be a great mom and how loved she was by the family.
Tears sprung to your eyes at just how loved and revered this woman was and how lucky you felt to know her, even if it was under the false pretense of being her brother’s girlfriend.
Bucky noticed you getting emotional and placed an arm around your back, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his hand in comfort as Kim continued to speak. You shot him a look of thanks and winked at him as you saw tears welling behind his eyes as well.
After dinner had been cleared and dessert had been served, you were locked in a pleasant conversation with Bucky’s grandniece Jenny.
“I don’t know, maybe I should change my major…”
“Well, you’re young. Lots of people take years to figure it out.” you replied
“Uh oh.” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”
Bucky was standing in the hall, deep in conversation with one of the nurses, who was throwing her head back in fits of laughter at whatever he was saying to her, and playfully touching his arm.
“Well, you know Bucky, he’s just… friendly.” you shrugged it off, trying to not let the interaction bother you
Jenny gave you a quizzical look, knowing that was a bold-faced lie and Bucky was the most surly and quiet person either of you had ever met. Except around you and Rebecca, of course.
“So tell me more about your thesis,” you said, directing the conversation back and hoping to distract yourself from whatever it was Bucky was doing
The subway ride back to your apartment was mostly silent, which wasn’t abnormal for him, except all you could think about was the way that nurse was with him, and more importantly, how he was with her. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how he had leaned into her touch everytime she placed a hand on his arm, how they had talked nearly the whole afternoon.
“So David told me he and Shelby are expecting.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence
“David and …? Oh yeah, Scott’s oldest.” you said, still mentally trying to keep all of Bucky’s nieces, nephews, and their kids straight in your mind, having just met all of them in one go today.
“Yeah. Which means Rebecca is going to be a great-grandmother.” he continued
“Oh my gosh that’s right! That’s so great! Did they tell her?”
“Yeah. She was pretty excited. Then of course, she asked me when you and I are going to start…” he said
“Oh yeah? What did you say to her?”
“Told her we’d get to it eventually. That we were still enjoying being young and in love.”
“Bucky, you’re 106…”
A smile formed across his face and he shook his head.
“You know what I meant!”
“Well we’ll never fictitiously get around to it if you for-real flirt with nurses.” you snidely commented
“Ohhh not my pretend girlfriend pretending to be jealous!” he joked back
“I’m not jealous, Bucky, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. But I don’t blame you, she was cute.”
“Yeah she was.”
“Okay serious question, what if one of us gets into a real relationship?” you asked
“Why are you planning to?”
“No, I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t exactly have any great prospects right now.”
“I don’t either.”
“Um, that nurse was absolutely a prospect.” you argued back
“Doll, will you drop it with the nurse already?”
“No. Look, if you want to be for-real happy and quit lying to your sister, I think you should ask the nurse out. This has been fun, but don’t let us pretending to date hold you back from an actual relationship.”
Bucky sighed and hung his head.
“Okay. When I visit Rebecca this week, I will ask the nurse out. Just to get you off my back about it.” he conceded
“Well just be sure to add in the fact that you have prospects lined up when you tell your sister we broke up, just to soften the blow.” you joked
“Wow, you make it sound like I have women out the door, just waiting in line for me.” Bucky joked
You could if you wanted, you’re a fucking catch, is what you wanted to say, but instead just chose to lightly chuckle at Bucky’s joke.
“I think I will wait and see if the nurse says yes and if she does, see how the date goes before breaking it to my sister. And if it goes bad, at least I still have you.”
“Wow, make a girl feel more special to be your backup plan, why don’t you?” you joked
“You know what I mean! Wait, you will still keep this up for me if the nurse says no right?”
You sighed.
“Yes. I’ve actually really been having fun spending time with your sister.”
And you, you wanted to add, but again, didn't.
“But I do want you to be happy, so I will sacrifice hanging out with the coolest 98 year old I’ve ever met if it means you get a for-real girlfriend and stop being a grumpy, lonely old man.”
“Thanks doll, you’re the best.”
Things at work got hectic that week and you didn’t see Bucky until midway through the next week.
You were sitting at your computer, combing some case files when Bucky snuck up behind you.
“So things got complicated…”
“Jesus, Bucky, don’t scare me like that!” you said, practically jumping out of your seat when he spoke
“Sorry!”
“Wait, complicated how?”
“Well I asked the nurse out. And she said yes. And apparently it was the hot topic in the nursing home all weekend. And my sister asked why I was two-timing you. So I had to tell her we broke up.”
Your heart sank at the thought of not hanging out with Bucky and Rebecca anymore.
“Okay. Well, we knew that might have to happen. And the nurse?”
“Her name is Maddie, by the way. And we went out last night.”
“And?”
“It went well. She was nice and it was fun and we’re going to go out again this weekend.”
“Bucky, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” you replied, trying to truly mean it and push your own feelings towards the situation aside.
But your mind just raced with worry about how well it actually went. Did he mean it went well like it was an agreeable evening and they talked a few hours and went their separate ways? Or did he mean it went well like she got to find out if his lips were as soft as they actually look? It went well like they hooked up and had steamy sex and she got to feel how his toned muscles felt under her hands while he brought her to ecstasy the way you’d always imagined and … no. You needed to stop. It was a bad idea to think about him that way. Especially since he now belonged to someone else, and never really belonged to you in the first place.
“Doll, I really can’t thank you enough.” Bucky spoke and broke you out of your spiraling thoughts “Rebecca had so much fun with you and you know… I think pretending to date you might have actually given me the confidence to ask Maddie out. Don’t know if I thought I could be a good real boyfriend without being a good fake one first.”
You laughed and shook your head.
“Well I’m happy to have helped. And by the way, yeah you were a phenomenal fake boyfriend. Better than most of the real ones I’ve had.”
You tried not to let the tears come to your eyes that you could feel brimming to the surface. You were just sad to say goodbye to Rebecca, that’s all. She was so special and spending time with her was a gift. It helped that Bucky was also so charming and funny, but it was absolutely just about Rebecca. Afterall, you’d still get to see Bucky at work. You wouldn’t really talk as in-depth as when you were with his sister and hanging out in service of keeping up the lie, but it would be fine.
However, much to your disappointment, it seemed like after that conversation, Bucky avoided you like you two had actually been a couple and actually broken up. He wouldn’t look you in the eye during mission briefings, wouldn’t say more than two words to you and they were always related to work, and if he ever found himself alone in a room with you, he quickly found an excuse to leave.
It had been about two months since you had “broken up” and you had given up hope of even having any sort of friendship with Bucky. But the truth was, you missed him. You missed making fun of him when he made a reference so outdated, historians wouldn’t even get it. You missed the way his smile rose more on his right side when you’d crack a joke. You missed when he’d sing along to one of Rebecca’s records and try to dance with both you and her at the same time, inevitably spinning you into each other and ending in the three of you in a fit of giggles.
You tried not to think of it though, threw yourself into work and tried to forget. But you couldn’t. Everything reminded you of him.
And you tried not to think about how much you missed him as you watched him walk onto the ramp of a quinjet, prepping to take off for a ten day mission to take down a Hydra base in Latvia.
Six days later, you were in your apartment, making your evening cup of tea when your phone rang.
You picked it up and put it down three times before finally processing that it was Bucky’s name popping up on the screen. With the time zone difference, it had to at least be three in the morning where he was.
“Bucky?” you finally answered “Is everything okay?”
“No. Doll, it’s not.”
“What happened? Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Did something go wrong?” you panicked, knowing of all the hundreds of people the Avengers employed, you were not the person to call if something went wrong with the mission.
“No, it’s Rebecca. She um…” Bucky sounded on the verge of crying and your heart broke in an instant “Kim called and Rebecca is in the hospital. I didn’t get all the details, but it’s not good.”
“Bucky, I’m so sorry.”
“Listen, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but can you please… Can I ask you to go for me? Go see her? Sam and I are trying to wrap up as quick as we can, but I just can’t bear the thought of not being there with her and she loved you so much and I know you being there would really mean a lot to both of us.”
You had never heard Bucky ramble like that before. His voice was shaky and unsure and it broke your heart.
“Okay. Of course I can go.” you replied without hesitation. You loved Rebecca too, of course you wanted to be with her.
“Thank you. So much. Really. I’ll text you the room number and the hospital. I’ll let Kim and Scott know you’re coming too.”
“Okay.”
“And um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how it’s been lately.”
“Bucky, It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. But um, we can talk more when I get back.”
“Okay. I’ll go see her now, just text me.”
You were pulling on your shoes already when Bucky’s text came through. You were out the door and to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.
Kim greeted you with a big hug when you arrived.
“Oh, she’ll be so excited to see you!” Kim said, leading you down the hall of the hospital towards Rebecca’s room “You know, she still talks about you all the time even though you two broke up a while ago.”
You tried to bite back a smile, not wanting to feel happy in such a grim situation. But knowing at least Rebecca missed your presence and made sure Bucky didn’t forget you lightened your mood just a little.
Any hint of a grin was knocked off your face as soon as you stepped in the room. Rebecca was looking quite different from when you last saw her. Usually so healthy and spry for her age, she looked frail in the thin hospital gown, laying limply in the bed in the middle of the sterile room. Her gray curls were not in their usual coiff, but unkempt and wild. Her eyes looked sallow and dull. But her beautiful smile still came through when she saw you walk into the room.
“Oh my dear!” she reached out a shaky hand toward you. “It is so good to see you!”
Her hand wrapped around yours and she patted it a few times.
“How have you been? Oh, I’ve missed you! You know I was just saying to James the other day, it was a shame he let such a gem like you go.”
“Rebecca, that’s very kind, but how are you? Are you resting? Are you feeling better?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was fine, but the nurses at the home, they called an ambulance and made me come here!”
“Mom, you passed out and your heartbeat was at 22 bpms!” Kim interjected
Rebecca waved her hand, then turned back to you.
“Where is James? Did you come with him?” she asked
“No. He’s away on a mission, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. He asked me to come see you until he could get here.”
“Oh that’s so kind of you. You know, he really loved you. I could see it every time he looked at you and every time I’d ask about you he’d talk and talk. I told him to hold on to you, but, well my brother never wants to listen to me!”
“Mom!” Kim interrupted again and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Even in this state, Rebecca’s personality was still shining through.
You caught up a little more, filling Rebecca and Kim in on your life since you last saw them.
Finally, Rebecca’s eyes kept closing mid-sentence and you and Kim left her to get more rest.
As you and Kim walked down the hall of the hospital together, she filled you in more on Rebecca’s health and explained that Scott and Jenny were also taking shifts visiting, currently hanging out in the waiting room down the hall.
“Sweetie, it’s getting late, let me give you some money so you can get a cab home.”
“No, Kim, I’ll stay here with you guys tonight.”
“You don’t have to…”
“Please? Just until Bucky calls again. Maybe by morning we’ll have a better idea of when he’ll be back.”
Kim nodded and gave your arm a light squeeze in thanks.
The waiting room was small and featured dated furniture and peeling wallpaper set under the glow of harsh fluorescent lights. Scott was asleep, curled in an uncomfortable position in a chair in the corner. Jenny flashed you a tired smile as you entered. You sat on one of the worn couches and laid your head back, attempting to drift off into sleep.
The night was rather restless, dozing in and out, but never really getting pulled into sleep fully. Between the buzz of hospital employees rushing about, the cramped sleeping arrangement, and the worry chewing in the pit of your stomach about both Rebecca and Bucky, it was far too difficult to get solid rest.
Would Rebecca be okay? How would Bucky act towards you when he got back? Would things go back to being friendly between you as a thanks for being there for his family or would he simply continue to ignore you and act as though this also didn’t happen?
You must have finally gotten to sleep, because you were pulled out of slumber by a metal hand squeezing yours and a soft calling of your name by a familiar voice.
Your eyes shot open to find Bucky, crouched down in front of you, face meeting yours as he gently woke you. Despite the exhaustion painted on his face, he was a radiant light in the otherwise dim environment.
“Bucky!” you sat upright and pulled him into a tight hug
“Hey Doll.” he said, squeezing you so tightly you thought you’d burst like a can of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.
“How did the mission go? When did you get back? Have you been in to see your sister yet?” you asked
Bucky shook his head.
“We can talk about the mission later. Thank you so much for being here.”
“How is Rebecca?” you asked
“I… um. I don’t know. I just got here and came to see you guys first.” he nodded toward the sleeping forms around you.
“You should go see her. Hopefully she got plenty of rest over night.”
Bucky shook his head some more.
“I don’t know if I can… she’s the last thing I have of my old life. I don’t know if I can bear to see her like that.”
“Bucky, she needs you. She wants to see you, she asked where you were last night.”
Bucky sighed, wetness welling in his worn blue eyes.
“I’ll go with you.” you volunteered
“Doll, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask another thing of you.”
“Please, Bucky, I want to be there for you. And for her.”
He nodded and took your hand in his flesh one, helping you off the couch and not letting go as you walked down the hall together towards Rebecca's room.
She was sitting upright in bed and her face lit up at the sight of you and her brother, nearly spilling the applesauce the nurses brought her for breakfast into her lap.
Bucky finally let go of your hand, giving his sister a hug much more gentle than the one he gave you.
“Oh James, you know you didn’t have to rush away from work just to come see me!”
“Becca, yes I did!” he smiled
“Well, your girlfriend had things covered here.” she gestured towards you
“Oh, Becs no, we’re not back together.” Bucky explained
“Oh? But why not?” Rebecca asked
“It's not important right now. What’s important right now is getting you healthy.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head.
“James, it is important right now. I’ve lived a lot of years and I’ve learned the most important thing in life is holding the ones you love close to you. I learned that when my big brother ‘died’ at war. I learned that when my children grew up too fast and moved away. I learned that with every grandchild born and held in my arms. And I learned that when you came back into my life after so many years.”
“Rebecca…” Bucky spoke, but she held up her hand to cut him off.
“I don’t know why you two broke up or what happened. But what I do know is how much the two of you clearly love each other. Look, James, I’m old. I know I don’t have much time left. But you, you have a life to live still and running away from the good things is not what your baby sister wants for you.”
“Rebecca, this is a conversation for her and I and another time.” Bucky argued
“You know for being my older brother, you sure aren’t wiser than me.”
“Wow, even sick in the hospital, still trying the younger sibling thing.” Bucky joked back
A knock at the door took the three of you from the conversation as a cheery nurse stepped inside the room.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to run a few tests the doctor ordered. It’ll only take a little while.” he explained.
Bucky sighed and gave his sister a kiss on her temple, then gestured for you to step out with him.
Once in the hall he finally broke down completely, the stress of the past few days catching up to him.
You cradled his head in your arms as he sobbed, knowing the longer the two of you stayed like this, the longer you could put off having a conversation.
“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, finally calm enough to stand and wipe the tears from his eyes
You nodded and took his hand again, leading him out to the front of the hospital into the sunshine.
A few open benches along the sidewalk provided a place for the two of you to sit. Still, it took a few minutes for Bucky to finally speak up.
“I’m sorry I let it get like this between us.” Bucky mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.
“Bucky, please. We don’t have to do this right now. You should be worrying about your sister, not me.”
“No, Doll, Rebecca’s right.”
“Yeah?”
“About everything.” he nodded his head “About life. About us. But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”
You giggled.
“I wanted it to be real. Not at first, but after a while. When she tells you a story about us as kids and you smile at me the way you do. Or when your eyes light up when I make up a lie about the latest romantic thing I did. I wanted it all to be real. And I still do.”
“I wanted it to be real too.” you confessed “But if you wanted that, then why did you not just ask me out for real instead of Maddie?”
“Because, like Rebecca said, I was running away from the good things. I was scared that after everything I’ve been through, no one would stick around knowing all of that about me. But then you did, and it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading it all wrong. Asked Maddie out as an excuse to push you away. I thought maybe avoiding you would make me get over it, but it didn’t, it just made me miss you.”
“And Maddie?”
“We went on a few dates and it was fun, but of course, I kept her at a distance. Didn’t want to let her in like I did with you. So she broke it off with me after a while.”
You chuckled and shook your head.
“You know, the leaves in Central Park aren’t quite orange yet, but it’s still a nice time of year for a first date there.”
“Yeah. It is. For real this time?”
“For real this time.” you agreed “But let’s worry about getting Rebecca healthy first.”
“I bet if we go up and tell her we’re back together, she’ll run out of that room and steal a cab just to make sure we make it to Central Park today.” he joked
You softly pressed your lips against his, feeling him melt into your kiss as the tension between the two of you these last few months finally evaporated.
When you finally pulled apart, you realized now you were the one crying, relieved that things between the two of you worked out.
Rebecca was released from the hospital a few days later, new medication bringing her health back into balance and making her as vivacious as ever. She was even well enough to join you and Bucky in Central Park for your 8th date, though she didn’t know that, as you and Bucky decided it was best not to tell her about the lie even now. And of course, when Bucky and Rebecca stepped out of the cab on 5th Avenue, he held two bouquets of pink roses in his hands.
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lizzybeth1986 · 3 months
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Hana and Madeleine: When You Reward Your Favourite Bully with One of Her Victims
Series - TRR's Alternative LIs: The "Romances" That Didn't Happen
Previous - Maxwell and Penelope: When You Like the Side Character So Much, You Gift Her A Shiny New LI
A/N1: Apologies, again, for the length of this. There was so much damn retconning to wade through that it felt like a rollercoaster to write. There is also not going to be a lot of Hana in this, as I needed to unravel so many inconsistencies in Madeleine's writing. I also didn't want this to become a repeat of my essay series on Hana (which you can read here).
CW: Descriptions of bullying and intimidation, as well as dismissiveness of the same both in canon and from fandom. A mention of the 'infertility' plotline written for Hana in TRH1. Mentions of parental abuse and neglect.
In every other essay in this series, it's been important for me to analyse the potential of the pairings TRR went for. No matter how badly PB handled them later on, one could find promise in the possibilities of these pairings, and if written well they could result in a sweet, happy ending for the LIs we didn't marry. With a better sense of balance from the writers and less vitriol and double standards (in some cases) from the fandom, they could have worked.
Not so for this pairing.
In the case of Hana and Madeleine,it would have been far far better if this pairing had never happened at all. The problem wasn't just in the development; the roots of such a pairing itself were rotten.
(White) Female Antagonists
Before I delve into the characters involved in this pairing, it's important we take another deep dive into a narrative practice we often see with PB. Their blatant favouring of specifically white female antagonists.
Now, it's not as if white men in antagonistic roles don't get favourable writing from their teams and adulation from sections of the fandom (one has to only look at some of the posts Gaius Augustine of BB, Caleb of Hero, and Kane of TE got - just to name a few). But we also often see fans of such white women decry the (very little compared to their black counterparts) condemnation that their faves get for their actions in comparison to both antagonistic and romanceable white men. Such readers often neglect to acknowledge exactly how much the narrative bends over backwards to accomodate them, in a way that they never have done for even mildly hostile/wary black and brown women. And often this is with ample support and encouragement within the fandom itself.
One cannot even pretend this is a recent development. The early books had their fair share of white-woman-adulation and you can see some of the patterns that would solidify in PB discourse already take shape in their early books.
One excellent example of this is TCaTF. Compare the treatment that white women like Helene Leventis, Hex and Zenobia Nevrakis are given, to what Rowan Thorn - a black woman - gets. Helene is allowed to escape never to return, or join Kenna, despite being the woman who killed her mentor and close friend Gabriel. Hex is well known in the series for her sadistic torture devices and for destroying an extremely prosperous kingdom. Yet, she is captured - alive - and there are two options that allow her a bit more mercy, and only one that recommends the harshest of punishments. Rowan in the meantime only betrays Kenna if the latter is an absolute tyrant to her, and letting her go if she betrays her is touted as a failure. Her loyalty doesn't ensure she will live like Diavolos' does - you can in fact leave her to die if you don't have enough diamonds/prestige points.
The Freshman was an improvement on this: even if Becca Davenport started out as a classic college mean girl, her redemption arc involved her needing to work to regain trust with the group and her best friend Madison, regardless of the MC's fondness of her. Her housemates immediately set her straight when she lashes out at them at the beginning of TS, and Becca has to plan for almost a-book-and-a-half to get her friendship with Madison back to normal again.
Sadly, this is something that rarely ever happened again. Discrepancies in character treatment became more and more obvious as the years passed. Books where black and brown women behaved even mildly unimpressed or catty with the MC, showed them either suffering grievous fates or written out of the narrative (eg. Scarlett not even getting a proper future in the VoS bonus scene) or being mistrusted and misunderstood constantly by the MC and their friends (Aurora). Books where white women could cause grievous harm depicted them being let off without so much as a slap on the wrist (eg. Aunt Mallory of RoE being rewarded with a happy life, a man and reconciliation with the niece she tried to kill and the daughter she emotionally abused).
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(Screenshots from SavageLordBarlow's YouTube channel)
Perhaps the worst and most obvious case to date was that of Vanessa Blackwood of MoTY, who called a young child "guttersnipe" within minutes of encountering her, outed a lesbian teacher, encouraged her son's bullying, provided legal counsel to the MC's ex husband just to see the woman suffer, and engineered a plot to frame the MC for theft so she could lose her job. Once Vanessa had crossed her limits, PB ensured they laid on the sympathy narrative thick, having her show sad faces when the MC scolded her in a paywall scene, punishing only her brown lackey (both the white people involved - Vanessa and Guy - are never named when Tallulah is exposed, even though she literally stole jewellery and framed the MC for them). In the series finale, Vanessa was rewarded with a cushy diamond scene where the MC can choose (in what is the understatement of the century) to call her "classist and a little bit racist" - all she is given at the end of the book is an extremely softball form of criticism.
Compare this to Xanthe of ACOR, who had far less power, who was repeatedly slut shamed by the MC and others for doing her job, and whose end was met in a "comical" scene that implied she'd been sold into sexual slavery while two black members of her scholae gloated over her plight (in a manner so uncharacteristic of them that even players who didn't necessarily like Xanthe were shocked. I would highly recommend you read @cassiopeiacorvus' excellent essay on her, "Xanthe: Courtesan, Rival, Pawn").
In an essay I'd written years ago, I'd noted the following:
"Check out who the narrative rewards you for treating well, as opposed to who will be made to support you either way.
You're allowed to show basic decency to a black or brown woman. But you're expected to show kindness, understanding and empathy to a white woman, and richly rewarded if you do. In some cases you will also face consequences if you don't. (Fandom - take note of the difference, and be sure not to forget it)."
Madeleine Amaranath is probably one of the best examples of this - with blatant retcons, unfounded adulation and obvious pandering lasting over five books.
Rules of Engagement
When we look at the full cast of TRR, we find at least six characters who are callbacks to its sister series, Rules of Engagement. Leo, Constantine, Regina, Bastien, Madeleine and Rashad (the last one was an addition from TRR2 onwards). Part of TRR's appeal as a series was its ability to reference the earlier one through these characters, but this time from the PoV of Leo's younger brother instead.
Madeleine appeared in only 2 chapters in RoE. She was Leo's fiancée, in an arranged match that not only their parents but their citizens expected, unfazed by the "commoners" Leo brought to his bed and secure in the knowledge that no matter who he slept with she would eventually become his Queen. Leo dashes these expectations, however, by abdicating his claim to the throne - whether the RoE MC chooses him or not.
At this point - when TRR was barely even a concept - Leo was a clear fan favourite. Players liked the idea of romancing a rogue prince from a fictional European country; it meant they could revel in the luxury of touching royalty, while being away from all the hard, unsavoury parts. The Madeleine angle provided them with a rival to fight off, and at the time that was all that mattered.
Was Leo's behaviour in RoE, towards both the RoE MC and Madeleine, dishonest? Definitely, but not many seemed to care much at the time and it hardly created a dent in his fanbase (most of the criticisms against him and his cheating ways and irresponsibility would emerge later - when the Leo stans became Drake stans, and it was more convenient to badmouth Liam's family).
Jeffrey Herdman, a Junior Game Writer with Pixelberry for over 7 years, was a part of both the RoE and TRR teams, and proudly admitted in the TRR2 pre-release interview, to being the one in charge of writing Madeleine:
Q: Very funny. (Just so we're clear, Jeffrey is joking. Sort of.) Out of curiosity, who's your favorite character to write in The Royal Romance?
Jeffrey: Madeleine. It's fun to write someone who's constantly trying to spin a situation to their benefit, and making power plays along the way. I've actually been writing for Madeleine since her appearance in Rules of Engagement: Book 2, so we're practically besties.
Excerpt from The Royal Romance: Book 2 Interview
(If we were to compare this adulation of the character from Jeffrey, to the person who wrote Hana - head writer Jennifer Young, you'd find a surprising difference. In this very interview Jennifer talks about enjoying the process of writing Hana, but pointed to Drake as her favourite LI - "In my personal game, my love interest is definitely Drake, and I totally make Kara write him just so I can read his scenes and enjoy the romance. =)".
Perhaps if Jennifer had spent less time fawning over Drake, and more time doing Hana's story justice, that LI wouldn't be stuck in a situation where the team constantly erased her experiences and history to benefit their favourites)
When you look at Jeffrey's open admiration of Madeleine, and trace her fairly choppy and largely incoherent narrative journey through the books...a lot of things begin to make sense.
TRR1 - Would a TRR1 Madeleine Have Been A Better Fit for Hana?
When you look at the first book, you can tell that the possibility of any of the other alternative pairings besides Liam and Olivia wasn't really entertained. There is no buildup at all for Maxwell x Penelope, Drake x Kiara - and not even a single direct interaction between fellow competitors Hana and Madeleine. In fact, TRR2 often had to cover up for the lack of interaction in certain cases by making the alternative LI come up with justifications for why they weren't approaching the LI before.
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There is maybe one implied interaction between Hana and Madeleine, that I don't think even the writers paid much attention to at the time. In the pie baking scene in Applewood, Hana is assigned to Madeleine's team if the MC doesn't take her along. Whichever group Hana is in, she is in charge of the pie design.
In the diamond scene, she takes the MC's suggestions and gives her advice on the amount of apples required for the filling. Given that she gives credit to the MC (in front of Queen Regina) in this option, and doesn't not do the same for Madeleine, it is likely that she was allowed to decorate for the other team, but not with much input from the captain.
This pie has a rose design, which is beautiful but lacks the intricacy and the challenge of the Cordonian Royal Seal, which the MC can suggest in the diamond scene. It's possible that by default, Madeleine handled the baking herself (since Penelope couldn't even boil water and in fact is so distracted she unwittingly helps sabotage the pie), and Hana was assigned strictly decoration duties. But even these possibilities rely on conjecture and guesswork, with no real dialogue or interaction shown.
There are no other scenes where the two women talk or do anything together. Hana may be present in one or two scenes where Madeleine is speaking (such as the dining scene in Ch 17 where Madeleine tells the court ladies about the upcoming Engagement Tour), but the two never directly engage with each other. It's more likely that (like Maxwell and Penelope, or Drake and Kiara), the writers may have thought of Hana and Madeleine only in the second or third book - more likely the third, but there are possible hints in TRR2 if you squint.
Hana is an interesting anomaly among the cast of TRR. She is both Cordonian and foreigner; the ways of the Cordonian court are, in equal parts, both familiar and confusing to her. This serves as an double-edged advantage to the MC - Hana is both skilled and knowledgeable enough to ease her into the culture, and isolated and vulnerable enough for the MC to step up as a hero on occasion. We also find out in Lythikos (TRR1 Ch 7) that she was so deep in the closet that she couldn't fully articulate her struggle to love the romantic English noble who wanted to marry her, in the presence of the woman she was slowly beginning to love. Within the competition itself, Hana is shown having a hard time finding people who will associate with her, often shown left out of events and her yacht party abandoned during the Regatta. The broken engagement could have a hand in making her appear to be struggling in the competition, but tbh Olivia is the only one who brings it up. Overall, she does well in the competition, but gets little credit for the same.
Madeleine is the polar opposite of this. Even though the ladies of the court initially view her with a mixture of pity and respect (due to her broken engagement with Leo, and her position as a Countess and winner of the previous season), their views on Madeleine once she enters the competition range from anger (Olivia), to speculation (Kiara and Penelope), to indifference and later suspicion (the MC).
Madeleine comes into the social season with several advantages: her pedigree and her years of experience at court. Both Bertrand and the MC note that Madeleine hails from a "powerful family" and "is immersed in the intrigues and maneuverings of courtly life", and therefore the MC is cautioned by Applewood to pay more attention to her than to Olivia. If the MC fails to win court favour, both Penelope and Kiara show allegiance to Madeleine. Where Hana is shown to be vulnerable despite her skills, charm and intelligence, Madeleine is meant to be viewed with respect even by her peers - and expected not to return that respect to others unless they're the king and queen.
I often view the Madeleine of Book 1 (and early TRR2), and the Madeleine of the latter half of Book 2, as two separate people (more on that in the next section). Early Madeleine was depicted as a clear threat. While she does nothing too out-of-pocket during the competition, her threats to the MC once she is (optionally) the favourite frontrunner, her singular focus on only the king and queen (and largely ignoring the Prince), and inability to respectfully lose, ensure that the reader registers her as a figure of danger early on. The first time she (optionally) faces an obvious loss and sees the MC crowned as Apple Queen, Madeleine tells her to "savour these moments. You may never hear the phrase again".
Her very extreme attempts to belatedly win Liam's favour after ignoring him the entire season (we later find out that she barged into his sleeping quarters the previous night and suggested the arrangement that Liam speaks about in TRR2), earns her speculative looks from the MC and wariness from Liam himself. Given that the outcome was so different in TRR2 but the buildup to said outcome was so rushed and chaotic, there is a 70/30 chance that Madeleine's buildup in Book 1 was meant to highlight her as someone with the capability to harm the MC, rather than just as a red herring. At the very most, Book 1 would highlight her as powerful, with the intention that Book 2 would follow through with showing her as a cog in a very vicious machine.
But because Madeleine's actions in TRR1 don't result in any direct harm, it's honestly hard to envision her as dangerous beyond the subtle threats (that people could brush off as basic rivalry) and rank classism.
Would Hana's pairing with the Madeleine of TRR1 have worked? It's equally hard to say. If we take only Book 1 into account, and ignore the very real possibility of a threat that Madeleine represents, there's a sliver of a chance that such a pairing could work...if Madeleine works on herself. At this point she hasn't manifested as a direct threat to Hana in a way that, say, Olivia has - and all the MC has at this point are theories and speculation. You'd have to probably change half of Madeleine's characterization, but it could be workable if the foundation for such a pairing was mutual respect from the start.
Still, when you take into consideration that Madeleine being involved in the plot against the MC was a very legitimate possibility, it's hard to see any opening for this pairing. Even Penelope - whose coddling from the narrative knew no limits - was no longer entertained as a potential alternative romance for an LI the moment her role in the plot was uncovered. If any harm was done to the MC, and Madeleine was found to be behind it, there is no way Hana would even be allowed to entertain the thought of her as an alternative LI at all.
You see - hurting Hana is no big deal. But hurting the MC and still getting an LI to show interest in you? Now that would be beyond the pale!
Madeleine: A Red Herring...Or A Villain Retconned?
As I have mentioned earlier, there is one writer - who has seniority in the company because of his many years there, who has always been in charge of Madeleine's writing, and who has always loved writing her. On close inspection one can say for certain that Jeffrey Herdman had a fair bit of sway in the team itself, especially from the fact that one of his weirdest writing suggestions - the MC's supposed obsession with hats - was retained in the books as a gag for a very, very long time (TRF finale livestream interview). When you take both Jeffrey's sway in the team, and the writing of Madeleine in TRR2 and 3 (and beyond), one can make several educated guesses about what Madeleine was built up to be, and how that changed midway.
Plenty of fan posts written in the gap between TRR1's finale and TRR2's release, took for granted that Madeleine would have some role to play in the plot against the MC. While one may assume this was due to "jealousy" from players or "hate for a bitchy character", there were enough signs in TRR1 and 2 that this was the route the narrative was initially planning to take with her.
The MC does voice suspicions of Madeleine in the first book - mostly after Madeleine herself voices threats to the MC during the Apple Queen ceremony. Madeleine also looks apprehensive at the (optional) public support Liam shows towards the MC at the Beaumont estate, and even shows him a suspiciously huge amount of attention at the Coronation. The MC even confronts Madeleine during the Coronation festivities when she gets a note threatening her to withdraw from the competition, believing it was sent by the latter. But beyond this, Madeleine's own words in TRR1 often sound ominous and laced with subtle threats. Still - going by just TRR1's evidence, Madeleine could still work as a good red herring, since she's not exactly crossed a clear line with anyone yet.
TRR2 seems to go in one direction when it comes to Madeleine's arc, then makes a sharp pivot in the opposite direction post Chs 7 and 8. The first half of the book has both the MC and Liam regard her with doubt and suspicion, especially when the MC learns that Madeleine had come to Liam's rooms the night before the Coronation, and insisted he continue the relationship with the MC on the sly while making her the queen. The book presents several contrasts between Madeleine and the MC, presenting their possible ruling styles and envisioning how each woman would fare as a future queen.
In a diamond scene in TRR2 Ch 4, Liam asks the MC how she would handle a plate of curry chicken falling on someone - an incident that has already occurred in some playthroughs to Madeleine (who got recognizably frustrated and called the whole episode "a disaster"). In contrast, the MC can claim she would either defuse the situation with humour or help clear the mess - both of which establish that unlike Madeleine the MC knows how to adapt to different situations, and prefers to find a solution rather than take her frustrations out on everyone else. Liam points out the differences between the two women as the MC "having perspective... every gaffe isn't a disaster".
Multiple scenes in the story focus on Madeleine's rigidity, her inability to adapt, her hunger for power, her belief that becoming queen gives her a free pass to be a tyrant, her hubris that allows her to outright harm some of her ladies in waiting and believe she will never face consequences, and her overall lack of real impact during her own engagement tour (only if the MC fails miserably does the Italian statesman Francesco even mention Madeleine). A lot of this buildup indicates that she won't be as effective a queen as other characters claim she will be.
Her overall behaviour in the first half of TRR2 seems to highlight overconfidence, and a willingness to overstep every possible boundary in the belief that nothing will now prevent her from getting what she wants ("the best part about being Queen is that I don't have to explain myself to anyone. Including you."). Even though she isn't queen yet, both Madeleine and everyone around her behave as if she has already been crowned! That kind of overconfidence - especially from someone who should know better than anyone that winning the competition doesn't necessarily mean she'll be crowned - makes more sense when she is aware that there are powerful people (like the former king and her aunt, the former queen) to back her.
There is also the fact that Penelope's involvement in the plot never got any proper buildup. There is just one scene, in TRR2 Ch 6, where she speaks about feeling uncomfortable at parties and balls, and how much she hates crowds. The reveal of her being the culprit is in Ch 7; the reveal of her social anxiety is in Ch 8. Before this, you have zero indicators of her being involved in this level of deception - even though her history of "social anxiety" should have ideally made that kind of subterfuge difficult, and she should have been able to leave a few tells, signalling her guilt. It is very clear on rereads that Penelope's involvement in the plot was a last-minute narrative decision.
But perhaps the strongest evidence that TRR2 was originally meant to establish Madeleine as part of the plot against the MC, is a line from the very first scene of the book. When a confused MC asks Bertrand how it's possible for Liam to break his engagement, Bertrand mentions a constitutional provision:
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"The king is able to change his selection in specific cases for the good of the nation". The MC being proven as framed and unfairly disgraced achieves very little in this context, because the focus is clearly on the king's final choice. This means that the engagement cannot be voided on the basis of the MC being innocent, but on the basis of Madeleine being unfit for the role.
What happens to this "constitutional clause" once Penelope is declared the culprit among the court ladies rather than Madeleine? It disappears completely. If she was really meant to be a red herring from the start, the team would never have added this line in the first place. Nor would they have left the "buildup" for Penelope's anxiety till Ch 6, just one chapter before her reveal. If Madeleine was really meant to be a mere red herring from the start, there would have been more than just one crumb presented for that trail.
It is highly possible that the team had plans for Madeleine to be involved in the plot, or in something shady enough to justify breaking the engagement. It is just as highly possible that Jeffrey, the writer in charge of her character, allowed his favouritism for that character to dictate his writing of her, and convinced the team to change the trajectory of the story to benefit her.
Hana and Madeleine - The First Half of TRR2
Most of the interactions between Hana and Madeleine in TRR2 are overshadowed by one incident in Ch 7 - the one most popularly known as "the chocolate incident". Madeleine was already not too popular as a character when this scene came out, but her admission that she wanted to break Hana crossed enough of a line that a number of players would bring it up as a reason for why they couldn't ever like her, no matter how often she was retconned in canon.
A common misconception made about the "chocolate incident" from Madeleine lovers and haters alike, is that it's viewed as a singular episode rather than as an escalation in an ongoing pattern of threats that Madeleine was already making to Hana.
Viewing it as an isolated incident is precisely what allowed both Madeleine stans, and the canon narrative itself, to severely downplay what Madeleine did, and what she openly declared she would continue doing to Hana. Therefore, it is essential to look into Hana and Madeleine's interactions before Ch 7, as well as the context behind Hana's return to court and the very real and grave threat that Madeleine represents to Hana specifically.
To do this, we must first look into how Hana's return to court (after her parents forced her to leave post Coronation) is depicted. There are two versions of this story - Madeleine's version...and the truth.
Madeleine's Version: "If it wasn't for me, she'd still be on the other side of the world. I've heard dogs remember those who feed them. I hope you'll keep this in mind and remember that dear Hana is here by my personal invitation". This is a half-truth at best and ironically, this is the version Hana sticks to. She is never allowed to tell us differently.
The truth, as said by Liam to Hana post Coronation: "I am the King of Cordonia. I'm sure Lady Madeleine knows that if she wants to keep our engagement, she'll have to give me something. Perhaps I can convince her to make you part of her court". Hana never gets to tell us this. That honour is given to Drake!
Even after the MC (optionally) gets to know this truth, she never talks to Hana about it, and Hana is never allowed to veer from Madeleine's narrative even in private. In the process, Madeleine gets to use her half-truth as a form of blackmail - threatening Hana at least twice to send her back to China if she paces even one toe out of Madeleine's arbitrary line.
In TRR2 Ch 4, Madeleine is shown antagonizing her entire court (ordering Penelope to get lemonade and comparing her to dogs, telling Kiara to exoticize herself by not speaking in English [which itself has colonial/Orientalist connotations]). But none is more ominous and disturbing than her subtle threat to Hana before introducing her to the two suitors:
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Being sent back to her parents is a terrifying prospect for Hana...for two reasons. For one, Hana is committed to being there for the MC, to contributing to her investigation (and she does! Massively. Perhaps more than anyone else in the group). For another, she is just beginning to realize what a damaging environment her parents' house is, and she also knows they are already growing suspicious that she hasn't found another suitor yet. By the end of this conversation, Hana is visibly distraught... to the point of needing moral support (something she rarely asks for herself).
Remember - this is an arbitrary rule Madeleine comes up with, that applies only to Hana. In the same conversation, neither Kiara nor Penelope are placed under this kind of pressure. Though Penelope claims in Ch 6 that her parents won't allow her to come home if she doesn't get a suitor, Madeleine doesn't levy any other threats of this nature on her (she harms Penelope in other ways).
Madeleine is aware that Liam was the one responsible for Hana's return. It is implied that she is also aware that neither Liam nor Hana can say this in public. By this coin, she'd know that she shouldn't be the one who can take a call on sending Hana back - Liam is. Yet she issues this sort of a threat, and worse still...is allowed to get away with it through Hana and the MC's silence, both in private and in public.
Unlike the MC and Olivia, the other three ladies of the court are present in official positions to the future Queen, and are expected to publicly pledge loyalty to her. The narrative of TRR2 alone seems to give the King's fiancèe powers and influences similar to an actual Queen Consort's. And Hana, Kiara and Penelope aren't just random "court members" - they are Madeleine's ladies-in-waiting. They cannot even speak to certain people unless she approves of it (Ch 1), she orders them around with the disrespect that many in that nobility reserve for their servants (Penelope in Ch 4), she publicly humiliates and insults them if they make a single mistake (eg. Penelope not getting a metallic dress in time for the bachelorette), and she can get away with causing them grievous harm (Hana). There is no actual point to any of this behaviour - it achieves nothing and (by the narrative parameters of the third book) is actually foolish, because Madeleine's actions could cost the royal family their relationship with the Great Houses. Neither the MC nor Liam (the actual monarch), would be allowed by the narrative later to abuse their power the way Madeleine can, in a position that isn't even hers yet!
It is easy to view Madeleine's interactions with Hana and Penelope especially, as just some regular mean-girls shit, with all the excuses, justifications and crocodile tears that the fandom can shower on said white/white-passing mean girls. Canon itself encourages this reading when they use the word "hazing" to describe what Madeleine put Hana through. But when we speak of Madeleine's behaviour in her engagement tour that way, we miss a very important aspect of her dynamic with these two women. They are no longer competitors or mere allies. They are not just people she knows in court.
They are not Madeleine's equals. They are her employees. She is directly in a position of immense, unquestioned and unchecked power over them. Publicly, she has the authority to invite them into her court, and to throw them out of their jobs. It is from that lens, that we must view her behaviour, especially in Ch 7.
The "Chocolate Incident" and Its Aftermath
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Another reason to believe Jeffrey's favouritism for Madeleine allowed for an actual change in the story, is the way this above scene - and the ones preceding it - were handled immediately in both the immediate and long-term aftermath.
Often dubbed "the chocolate incident", this scene takes place in Italy (the first stop of the engagement tour) during Madeleine's bachelorette. For anyone who has forgotten the incident, Madeleine's ladies-in-waiting are supposed to organize different fun activities for her bachelorette, and the MC uses each event as both a PR exercise and an opportunity to check the credit cards of the ladies.
The final activity is Hana's, an intricately-planned chocolate fondue party complete with chocolate-themed games and treats. If one reads too much between the lines, one could maybe notice the tiniest sliver of a romantic hint in Hana's conversation with the MC over her confusing an actual bachelorette party with the show The Bachelorette (It is just as possible tho - if not more - that this is a comic aside pointing to Hana's lack of exposure to modern media).
However, things take a turn for the worst at this juncture. Madeleine heavily berates Hana for not knowing that she is "allergic to chocolate", accusing her of an attempt to murder and even threatening to remove her from her position in court. This leaves Hana so distraught that she ruins her own dress in the process, and is damn near inconsolable. The MC can - if she chooses - comfort Hana along with their friends. At the end of the night, a heavily drunk Madeleine gleefully admits she lied about the allergy and gloats about wanting to keep hurting Hana till she breaks, because she "wants to have a little fun".
She claims, when asked why, that it's because "everyone wants something, but the nice ones like Hana don't even have the decency to act like it". Which sounds like the sort of sick logic that fandom often happily accepts from their favourite white antagonists, where they can project whatever sob story they want to make such a reasoning palatable. Such attempts ignore the fact that Madeleine is torturing someone for supposed "duplicity" when she is herself well-known for being insincere.
Later, when it was convenient for the fandom to hate on Hana, she would be either blamed for the torture Madeleine put her through (because she was "weak" or "too nice", or that she was "spineless and deserved this treatment". I even saw posts that claimed it "wasn't that bad" (in the case of one particularly memorable instance, a Madeleine stan went so far as to say, agreeing with a post expressing a fondness for Madeleine: "...before anyone mentions the chocolate prank: Did Hana die, tho?"). Some also tried to reason that it was fair for Madeleine to target Hana, either to showcase her "wiles" or because of her sad sad childhood.
As I pointed out earlier, every single one of these takes tend to downplay Madeleine's bullying/abuse so that it sounds more like a schoolyard squabble that happened only once, rather than a person in power consistently placing their employee's job under threat, with the stated intention of harming them mentally and emotionally on a regular basis, until they experienced a breakdown. The center of this conflict isn't about different people with different approaches. Nor is it about court maneuvering or wiles because honestly, nothing worthwhile was achieved through Madeleine's abuse, and she had no purpose for doing those things beyond deriving a sick pleasure from other people's suffering.
It isn't about nice vs tough, nor ambitious vs generous, nor "naive" vs "jaded". It is about a gross power imbalance. An imbalance that results in the exploitation of the more vulnerable party...which is later brushed aside by the one who claims to be the latter's "friend" like it means nothing.
Structure wise, one can see striking similarities between this chapter, and TRR1's Ch 7, where the MC can view Olivia in a new light in the first half of the chapter, but be disturbed by her vindictive nature by the end of it. Here too, the MC comes into the investigation of the credit cards fully expecting to see Madeleine as the culprit. Over the course of the evening she finds Madeleine treating her ladies-in-waiting badly, but also calling out the press for targeting only the MC but staying silent on Tariq's involvement (ironically, Madeleine herself didn't exactly believe the MC if she tells her she was set up). She is also shocked when she realises Madeleine isn't the culprit at the club. Still, the court is given a rude shock when Hana is accused of putting Madeleine's life in danger.
Clearly the aim of such a chapter was to make the MC soften a little towards Madeleine, while still keeping some of the antagonistic tension. However, the more direct impact of Madeleine's huge ego trip on Hana made the harm far more visible than Olivia's jibes towards a woman who was far away...plus the scenes that followed in the former sequence centered Drake, far more than the ones in the latter that involved comforting Hana.
Madeleine's bullying also clashes - quite conveniently - with the reveal of Penelope's betrayal, so that the latter overshadows what Hana went through altogether.
It is important to note at this point that the MC is the only person not directly tied in an alliance to Madeleine (besides Olivia and Maxwell, who are then missing at the fashion show backstage scene in Paris) who knows Madeleine's intentions towards Hana. She is the only person present at the event in Paris, who knows that Madeleine intended to continue harassing her until she broke. Hana herself is never made fully aware of this, and if she is left in a vulnerable, dangerous position while on her mission to support the MC's investigation - then the fault lies to a large extent with the MC for keeping silent, rather than protecting her friend from someone who fully intended to hurt her.
I say this because in France (Ch 8), the MC's exposing of Madeleine is by choice, rather than default (this essay has a full breakdown of said scene). Moreover, the option where the MC can "expose" her will result in Madeleine lying about the act being an "official hazing" she does for all her ladies-in-waiting. Not only does the MC neglect to contest Madeleine's claims (or even tell Hana the full truth in secret), she also parrots Madeleine's lie in a conversation with Adeleide in NY, as if it were the truth (Ch 14).
Remember how I mentioned Jeffrey - the writer who was in charge of Madeleine's scenes and sang her praises in TRR2's pre-release interview? His influence here is obvious in the way the narrative sharply pivots away from Madeleine's characterization so far, to engage in a full-blown pity party.
The abuses of her power (towards Hana and Penelope in particular) stop. The parallels that canon makes between Madeleine and the MC as future Queens, stop. No reference, ever, is made of her actions before Ch 8.
For over seven chapters, Madeleine largely fades into the background - sometimes there will be scenes where she is present, but without any dialogue or actions. Sometimes she may make a catty move like getting the MC to pick up her wedding ring, but from a safe distance. Because she doesn't openly antagonize anyone or show up much in Chs 9-15, the sense of distance could allow some to soften in their memories of her. Especially when the only strong reminders of Madeleine in these chapters come from Adeleide, her mother.
Adeleide is an important cog in the machinery that resulted in the retconning of Madeleine's character in TRR2. Without her, Patriotic!Madeleine wouldn't have become canon. Adeleide sets the stage for this extremely inaccurate reading of her, with complaints on two occasions about how Madeleine is "putting too much pressure on herself" and working too hard. Which contradicts her very real actions in Applewood and Italy, where she regularly antagonized her entire court and where she doesn't get much notable approval from foreign dignitaries (Signor Francesco) unless the MC is that bad.
The narrative, at this point, expects us to view her with sympathy, as someone who could have been "an excellent queen" (Adeleide's words, not mine). The stage is clearly set so that we pity her when Liam calls off the engagement and she loses this position, that we can see her loss as "unfair". It ensures that there is an overflow of sympathy for Madeleine's plight, especially since she had already lost her chance to become Queen once before with Leo. By this point, many readers had actually forgotten the "chocolate incident" altogether, and were more than willing to view Madeleine as a patriot who wasn't given her due. A description that, ironically, more accurately fits Hana.
Is Hana Really Just A Nice Girl who Never Fights Back?
As I mentioned before, Hana's "niceness" and "weakness" were sometimes presented in fandom as justifications/reasons for Madeleine's bullying of her, often in an attempt to shift blame or make it sound like Madeleine's stated "reasons" (in TRR2 Ch 7) to hurt her were legitimate. Almost as if to say that Hana was targeted because she presents herself as an easy target.
To be clear, I don't subscribe to such a train of thought myself. Different people react to bullies and abusers in different ways - and not being able to push back aggressively in tense situations doesn't make anyone a lesser person. In fact, canon itself doesn't mind providing a "weaker" person protection against someone like Madeleine...as long as that person is Penelope. So we cannot even claim that Hana's "weakness" is why Madeleine targets her, or why the MC shouldn't have to protect Hana better.
Canon also doesn't help much in this respect, especially with their preferences for the meaner white women. In fact the narrative doesn't even allow Hana the chance to speak up in private against Madeleine's half-truths about her return, and she is made to easily accept Madeleine's "hazing" excuse. Let's not even get into how she speaks about Madeleine in TRR3. Additionally, no one in Hana's own friend group provides adequate protection or support - they stay silent where it counts.
But is Hana really that incapable of fighting for herself? According to the finale of TRR1, no.
Even though the scene is hidden behind a paywall, Hana's pushback against Olivia's treatment of her during the social season is strong, decisive and done entirely on her own initiative, with no prompting or involvement from the MC. She is honest about the ways in which Olivia has hurt her, but also makes it clear that Olivia's opinions and vitriol no longer matter - effectively reclaiming her own power in the process.
Such a scene is a clear indicator that Hana is capable of pushing back, and isn't afraid to speak truth to power - as early as TRR1. While one could say that as a diamond scene, it is possible that it can't be fully shown as canon - there are ways the writers know how to incorporate such things. Often, they have managed to write in similar scenes or the same information into free scenes later on (eg. the selling of Liam's bachelor party photos, which wasn't even that important to the story of TRR2). Hana could have had a free pushback scene with Olivia if the writers really wanted to give her one.
That aside, it's safe to say that there is a precedent for Hana being able to fight back before TRR2, and canon could have found ways to ensure that she could safely do so with Madeleine too. Or at least have more protection and care from her friend group, if her position as lady-in-waiting prevented her from speaking out. Penelope got to demand protection later on, after all - and she wasn't even our friend.
We must also take into account the positions of power that Madeleine, Olivia and later even the MC hold. Madeleine is a countess in line to become queen in TRR2. Olivia is a duchess, and the MC herself is given this honour in Book 2. Hana - despite her skills, knowledge and charm - never gets lands, nor a title unless she marries the MC. Hana's experience in Cordonia isn't just about "other women" being mean to her with the MC being "not like other girls" - all three of the above women are in positions of power over her, and even the nicest of them uses her more often than she helps.
TRR2 doesn't exactly build Hana and Madeleine as a pair. In hindsight one can read romantic hints into Madeleine's mocking usage of the word "darling" around Hana, Hana's attempt to replicate The Bachelorette for Madeleine's bachelorette party, and read parallels into both their toxic family histories (particularly Hana with her mother and Madeleine with her father). But there is no actual romantic content there that one could find with the other three pairs, which leads me to believe that Hana and Madeleine was only taken seriously as a romantic prospect in TRR3.
How did Madeleine become the final romantic choice for Hana, and no one else? Because the relationship was never made Hana's benefit - it was for Madeleine's. Given all the evidence laid out about TRR1!Madeleine, TRR2!Madeleine and including hints that she may have actually been written as the villain at some point, it's more likely that Madeleine's main writer ensured some changes in the writing of his favourite character midway into the story, resulting in her staying longer in court and several retcons that painted her as a tragic heroine and completely erased any actions that contradicted such a narrative.
This specific narrative also seems to draw upon a narrative trope that is seen sometimes in certain stories featuring queer couples - the Armoured Closted Gay. It is employed often enough, mostly to show the pervasiveness and immense pressure heteronormativity can have on some queer people - that sometimes, they hate themselves for not adhering to the norm and therefore project that self-hatred onto people like them. PB had done a similar kind of story in TF and ILITW - with Zig and an aggressive teammate Manny (but with discussions on sexual harassment and about being closeted) and with Lily Oritz and her crush Britney. Unlike Zig's and Lily's cases though, this sort of narrative hardly centers on Hana.
Hana is hardly treated as a person in her own right in this narrative. She is treated as a "consolation prize" for Madeleine's "good behaviour" and "hard work". Which is still a really, really hard story to sell when one of the characters states outright that they'd abuse their power over the other till she breaks.
So how does PB get back from that kind of cruelty, and convert it into an actual romance?
Madeleine in TRR3 - The Royal Retcon
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(In order: MC complimenting Madeleine to Godfrey (Ch 3), response to Madeleine's "send my regards to Hana (Ch 9), Madeleine asking for a dance (Ch 16), Optional response about memories of Madeleine's bachelorette in Hana's Vegas diamond scene (Ch 16))
By gaslighting an entire fandom, of course.
TRR3 requires us at the very start to do two things - to recruit Madeleine into replacing Justin as our press secretary, and to convince her family to join the Unity Tour so that Cordonia knows its nobility stands with the Crown. Until this point, we've only had hints of Madeleine's so-called "patriotism", mostly from Adeleide. TRR3 Ch 3 goes full force on this reading: having Madeleine claim (in the most positive option) that all her efforts to become queen was "for my people...it was always for Cordonia", having Hana claim that Madeleine "would mostly likely take a bullet for Liam... because you'd never leave Cordonia without a King". Coupled with Godfrey and Adeleide's toxic family dynamics, the story is set to push forward a narrative where we are meant to sympathize with her and preferably downplay her behaviour from the previous book.
Throughout Madeleine's tenure as press sec, we are expected to laud her "work" - even though the truth is that she makes our work harder by giving us heavy folders and 100 note cards of materials just minutes before our meetings, and leaving out important information (like Zeke) for us to scramble about and find. Where during her time as future queen, her ladies-in-waiting were expected to have every detail perfect as per her desires otherwise face her wrath - as our employee, we are expected to appreciate efforts alone, and be lenient when she doesn't follow our rules (eg. wearing gold for our bachelorette when she was supposed to wear muted colours, trying to sneak in a white dress to our wedding). Most of our responses to her "work" involve fulsome praise, or at most a very light criticism that still claims she's good at her job (she isn't). And it isn't just the MC - even Justin (who recommended her) and Hana are made to sing her praises.
Having canon claim Madeleine does a good job when she actually doesn't is... frustrating, but not as awful as the retconning they do for her past behaviour. But it is part of a pattern that whitewashes Madeleine altogether so the readers can consider her deserving of the rewards that the narrative so badly wants to give her, whether her actual conduct matches up to these fulsome praises or not.
One clear tactic that is used to achieve this, was to have the person she harmed the most, speak of her in glowing terms. In TRR3 Ch 3, you have at least two instances during the "Cordonia's Most" game where Hana uses the game to compliment Madeleine. Here, she compliments Madeleine on knowing how to "charm a crowd...her confidence and poise", and claims her to be very patriotic. If the MC refuses to coddle Madeleine during their private conversation, the onus to be kind to her rests solely on Hana's shoulders, where she is required to say, "maybe it's time to see if you can catch more flies with honey". Hana is also shown wanting to include Madeleine in group activities (TRR3 Ch 6, before going to the spa), in the same way she tried to include Olivia in TRR2. When we're shown a Hana who is not only willing but enthusiastic to speak to Madeleine, it further encourages the reader to befriend her - almost as if to say, "if Hana doesn't mind being friendly with her, why should you?".
And this wouldn't be possible at all if canon was honest about Madeleine's conduct in TRR2. So much about Madeleine's advice to us in TRR3 directly contradicts her own behaviour as future queen in TRR2 ("having an entourage isn't about vanity...it's about support"). Had canon actually been honest about her conduct, this statement would be viewed as extremely ironic, a huge portion of the blame for Penelope's reluctance to return to court would be (rightly) placed on Madeleine's shoulders and we would be able to call her out specifically on her tyrannical behaviour as future queen, as well as her inability to adjust her work to suit her client now. We would not be placing Madeleine on a pedestal ad nauseum, or paying much attention to her childish complaints that her "efforts" are going unappreciated.
Whenever the early part of the engagement tour is referenced, it is spoken of in the vaguest, most milquetoast terms. The narrative will speak vaguely of "meanness", but never actually specify what Madeleine did. The closest we get to any sort of confirmation of this is in the Costume Gala (Ch 9) if the MC warns Madeleine to stay away from Hana...and even there, the MC just says she did "mean things". Which is the mildest possible way I have seen of someone describing a person who gloated about breaking Hana. Like the word "hazing" from the previous book, all these vague references leave it to the readers' faint memories, or imagination, to figure out what Madeleine did.
But all of these are just hints at best, and most of what we could assume of the writers' intentions came largely from guesswork. There was constantly a sense of something not being right, but many of us at the time couldn't completely articulate it. That is, until Ch 16, and only if we pressed a specific option in the Vegas diamond scene, in just Hana's playthrough:
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Unlike the previous scenes - which were mostly attempts to obfuscate the events of the previous book - this scene replaces what actually happened with blatant lies. Not only does it wipe out entirely what Madeleine did, replacing it with a casual comment from Hana about her "fun side", it also smears Kiara for something she didn't do at all during the bachelorette (for clarity, Kiara found out she was a great dancer, and looked quite annoyed if the MC chose a wrong dialogue option as an excuse to see her card. The MC never saw her lashing out at Penelope during this event). Even if the MC and Hana were so drunk that night that they wouldn't remember events clearly (which isn't how they're depicted at all when the "chocolate incident" took place), it wouldn't be replaced with things that never actually happened. The writers were more than ready to throw Kiara under the bus to make Madeleine look better, and have those lies come out of Hana's mouth (and mind you, Hana liked Kiara so much she chose her to be her MoH in Ch 18 of her playthrough, so it can't even have been spite towards Kiara on her part).
In contrast, Penelope is allowed to be open about Madeleine's mistreatment of her. In fact she cites it as the main reason for her reluctance to return to court, and even complains at the MC if the latter asks her if she didn't get the memo on the bachelorette dress code in TRR3 Ch 16 ("oh no, no, it's like Madeleine all over again!"). The group is required to protect her from Madeleine; in Ch 4, when Penelope is upset at the very sight of Madeleine, Drake comes to her rescue and reassures her ("She's with us, Penelope. We won't let her bite."). While Madeleine herself is protected from any consequences for what she did to Penelope (besides an optional tiny jibe in Ch 4), the MC and her group are required to reassure her that they will never allow it to happen again. In a very disgusting contrast, the narrative pushes Hana at the forefront of the diamond scene with Madeleine, without ever considering her comfort or safety around the person who wanted to break her. Not only does the group involve her without ever asking her if she wants to be part of it - Drake and Maxwell safely distance themselves when the time comes for Madeleine to speak personally about her troubles, and the MC can choose not to be sympathetic in certain dialogue options. Which means that the onus to comfort and persuade her is largely on Hana's shoulders. We must also remember that, unlike Penelope, Hana is deprived of the full truth of Madeleine's intentions in the last book too.
Where the writers were ready to at least admit that Madeleine's behaviour affected Penelope deeply, they went to the extent of completely rewriting the narrative of her TRR2 bachelorette to erase what she put Hana through.
The "Romance" in TRR3
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(First four screenshots from my playthroughs, next four from the Adventure...Romance...Thrills YouTube Channel, and the final row's screenshots from the Annabelle Lee YouTube channel and the Skylia YouTube channel)
The Hana and Madeleine "romance" is hinted at in 5 scenes (4 in other playthroughs, and just one in Hana's own). As with most of the other romances, Madeleine's feelings are the most prominent. To the more romance-coded overtures, Hana's reaction is usually shock and disbelief, with a small suspicion over whether Madeleine is doing this to trick her into humiliation later. But the narrative gives her very little opportunity to even talk about anything related to Madeleine, especially anything negative. You do have a scene at the finale that is meant to provide closure, but not in a romantic way. This scene is very different from the others, and in some ways puts an end to the possibility of this relationship happening anytime soon.
How did we get from those scenes to this final one in Ch 22? It would be useful to look at the scenes, within the timeline of TRR3's release and with the context of fandom reactions.
1. The "Cordonia's Most" Scene (Ch 3)
This diamond scene is written to give the MC/reader a bit of background on Madeleine's past and family, which will prove useful later when she has to convince the Amaranths to fix their relationship with each other. It is set against the background of a drinking game where an asker can quiz everyone else about who would be the most likely to do a particular action. Hana references Madeleine twice in the game (in a very complimentary manner), and Madeleine references Hana once. It was her comment about Hana being "stupidly sweet and perfect" that caught the attention of some readers and made them wonder if that was the route PB was planning to take with Hana. This dialogue shows up in Hana's route as well.
In later chapters, we see instances of Hana trying to include Madeleine in group activities...such as in Ch 6 where she invites the latter to come with them to the spa after the football match with Jiro and Camellia.
2 and 3. Cross-Referencing Each Other at Costume Gala (Ch 9)
This is a very interesting development, at an equally interesting time. Around the time Ch 9 released (end-April 2018), PB announced that TRR's team would be taking a hiatus, mostly to work on "some exciting stuff" during that break. It also gave them the time to work on certain things the fandom was demanding, and do away with others due to stan vitriol (Kiara's attraction towards Drake being one of them). The next chapter would only appear a month and a half later (mid-June).
Ch 9 sneaked in a scene that hinted at Hana and Madeleine as a romance option, but in a way that made it very hard for players to notice on a casual read. The scene is split in two parts: the MC can choose to speak to either Hana and Olivia, or Maxwell, Justin and Madeleine. Hana and Olivia's scene shows the two commenting on Gala outfits, which kickstarts a conversation about diplomacy vs bluntness. The latter option explores a variety of topics, mostly revolving around an appreciation for Madeleine's "great work".
Both Hana and Madeleine reference each other in their scenes. Hana's dialogue depends on whether the MC is her fiancèe or not; in other playthroughs, she admires Madeleine's costume, the compliment on her good looks very personal. In her own playthrough, she compliments Kiara's outfit but in a more distant fashion ("subtle and clever, just like her...very well-chosen"). In Madeleine's scene (which is the same across playthroughs), the ending involves her telling the MC to "send my regards to Hana", in response to which she can choose a line of questioning (which ranges from "protective towards Hana" to largely indifferent. In all three options, thankfully, the MC can close with "don't let me catch you antagonizing her", but that really is one small mercy in a pile of blatant retconning.
What marks Hana's dialogue about Madeleine as an LI-specific option, is that she says something entirely different if the MC is getting married to her. This is an indication that the dialogue was intended to be read as romantic, and that it couldn't be said by an LI who was already in love and ready to marry the MC. Pretty much in the same way that Olivia in Liam's playthrough cannot hold his hand in Applewood or dance with him in Vegas.
I wrote an essay on this at the time - both on the possibility of the pairing and why it was a bad idea - and the overall response I received at the time was mixed. Those who remembered exactly what went down at Madeleine's bachelorette and weren't her fans hated the prospect, but some weren't as convinced and some refused to believe it would happen. So there was some pushback for it, citing Madeleine's "chocolate incident" (thankfully, since there were players who had forgotten about it), but it was very low-key and didn't gain much traction.
4. An Offer to Dance in Vegas (Ch 16)
The most obvious indication of Hana and Madeleine being a romantic possibility was in the Vegas chapter. It was impossible to miss for people who didn't romance Hana. This scene, again, featured only in playthroughs where Hana wasn't getting married - which meant that many Hana-romancers didn't get to know of this pairing unless they were told by a friend or saw any such posts on their dash (some even found out years later, to their shock and dismay).
The mild pushback from Ch 9 resulted in a scene where the writers could be emboldened to continue writing this pairing, but confirm (in the vaguest possible way) that Madeleine treated Hana badly. Madeleine's non-apology "apology" really reads more like an attempt to get into Hana's pants than actual regret, and is followed by a reaction from Hana that is confusing in its mildness. Hana is surprised at the offer to dance, asking Madeleine whether she's trying to trick her. While the mild suspicion is a slight improvement from Hana's fulsome praise and enthusiastic attempts to involve Madeleine in group stuff in previous chapters, it still downplays what Hana suffered at Madeleine's hands by making her present the weakest, most milquetoast examples of "fooling someone", examples that pale miserably in comparison to what Madeleine actually put Hana through.
With both the "stupidly sweet and perfect" dialogue and this scene, you'll notice that Madeleine is not only the one who initiates the conversation, but is also the only one with an actual voice in these exchanges. Forget having an opinion on whether she wants to have anything to do with Madeleine or not - the narrative doesn't even give poor Hana the opportunity to properly react beyond mere shock.
There was a stronger reaction to this scene than to the Ch 9 one, because it was way more visible (though you could avoid it just by letting Madeleine stay in her hotel) with Madeleine's romantic intentions on full display. Her asking Hana for a dance immediately after the no apology made it pretty obvious. Players who didn't see the Ch 9 scenes or who didn't believe the divergences meant anything, now couldn't deny that this was positioned as an alternative romance. Additionally by this time, those who forgot about the "chocolate incident" did get reminded of the exact scene, so the vagueness with which Madeleine "addressed" her actions in TRR2 felt criminally inadequate for a number of readers.
Most of us, however, didn't know about the retcon in Hana's Vegas scene, until years later. Those who didn't do Hana's playthrough would have had no idea, and those who did more likely chose the more romantic options.
5. "Jealous?" (Ch 20)
This scene is unique in that the option shows up across all playthroughs, but the specific reaction only shows up in two of them. It's understandable that Hana stans would have missed this - the dialogue is an option, the response is very fleeting and you would have to look through the same option in other playthroughs to recognise the variations.
In the cases of both Drake and Maxwell, Madeleine's response to this jibe from the MC is "ugh, please". Dismissive, almost mocking the idea that she would have any interest in them. In Liam's and Hana's cases, she appears shocked for a minute, then composes herself and gives a more neutral response ("I...I refuse to dignify such a ridiculous question with a response"). In Liam's case, one can safely assume that even though she had no romantic interest in him, she was still on the verge of marrying Liam and that alone would make the situation awkward. In Hana's case there is really no other reason for her to feel that awkward besides having lingering feelings that she cannot suppress.
While this version of the scene doesn't feature in playthroughs where she is single at all, it's still a very strong indicator of authorial intent. Even in the face of backlash against the pairing, the writers clearly wanted to continue hinting at the possibility, if they were slipping in hints of Madeleine's feelings for Hana as late as Ch 20 (just two chapters before the finale). The most plausible theory for this inclusion would be that the backlash was a lot more than it was after Ch 9, but not entirely enough to do away without the pairing completely...yet.
6. "I Wanted To Break You" (Ch 22)
No one knows what happened between Chs 20 and 22, and there's little I can think of that would account for such a quick change in such a short span of time. The finale has a scene featuring Hana and Madeleine, that begins by drawing more obvious parallels between the two women and their families (until now, the parallels were not as pronounced. It's not exactly a great parallel to begin with, since Madeleine has at least one supportive parent and doesn't get punished to the extent that Hana has been, if she openly protests against her parents' methods. But in TRR3 the narrative sometimes does use Hana's toxic parental situation as a parallel to garner sympathy for Madeleine's).
However, once the parents are out of the picture, the attention then turns to Hana and Madeleine, setting the stage for either a romantic confession or a full apology. This time, canon opts to go for the latter.
Unlike all the others, this scene is bluntly specific not just about what Madeleine did but what exactly her intentions were. It has her use the word "break"; it has her actually say the word "sorry". It allowed Hana, for the first time, to fully hear the truth about the harm Madeleine planned to wreck on her. And most importantly, it also allowed Hana her own voice in response to Madeleine's revelations, making it very clear to her that her forgiveness needed to be earned, over a period of time.
The dialogues used to talk about Madeleine's bachelorette in the finale are poles apart from the language they'd used earlier ("hazing", "put my ladies through their paces", "mean things", "refuse to coddle", "wronged"). The finale scene was a more accurate return to the original language and purpose of that bachelorette scene. In fact it sounds less like what canon had been attempting to gaslight their readers into believing thus far, and even seemed to borrow verbatim from the language of the readers who closely followed this issue.
One could call it a good closure scene on the surface level...but there are many, many problems with it.
One was the reaction of the MC. Her angry "excuse me?" in response to Madeleine's confession is still a very obvious retcon. It may have been done to preserve the myth that the MC is a good friend/wife to Hana, but reads as extremely dishonest when you remember that canonically, the MC knew the truth about Madeleine's intentions the whole time and just chose to leave Hana in the dark. It's an attempt to make the MC seem protective that ultimately rings false.
Another is the excuse Madeleine gives for why she targeted Hana. "I wanted to push Hana too far, and for her to drop the nice-girl act once and for all! Only, it isn't an act, is it?" My response when I first read this was "if Hana was faking it...so what. So fucking what. Who was she harming". Coming from the reigning queen of duplicity herself, Madeleine is really not in a position to be judging anyone for putting up a front. This also ties into the hollowness of the motives PB tried to belatedly cook up for TRR2 Madeleine's bullying - no matter what canon says to whitewash her actions, her attempts achieved nothing, did no good for Cordonia, and would likely have led to a very fractured court if the Unity Tour was held while she was queen.
Ultimately, the possibility of this pairing becoming canon was laid to rest in the final chapter. One could interpret Madeleine's promise of a starting gesture ("know that if anyone at court gives you trouble, I can make them regret it") as a possible opening to something more, but considering the earlier backlash, that was unlikely.
TRH - Madeleine Gets The Penelope Treatment, Hana Gets Her Entire Childhood History Retconned.
An interesting development that came up when TRH dropped was the departure of Jeffrey Herdman from the team, most likely because he was heavily involved in the writing of its Renaissance-era spin-off The Royal Masquerade. He would return, by TRF (he is part of their finale livestream), but by then his pet favourite character was likely gone.
TRH has a different set of circumstances, and different power dynamics. The MC is settled into marriage and trying for a child, the LIs are working in the council, Olivia is upgraded to cosplaying spymaster and the side characters go on with their lives. The first book of TRH seemed to do a surface-level recognition of some of the complaints certain readers had in previous books, but their favourites and the people who wouldn't get much attention or appreciation, remained the same.
TRH1 was a time when the writers praised Hana and claimed in a livestream that she was the kind of LI they would love to marry, but also where they gave her a condition that (inaccurately) made her unable to safely carry children (just for the MC to be the mother of the heir) and forced her to be immediately okay with that fate. As the sequel series progressed over the course of 4 books, the erasure of all that Hana was in the past was subtle and insidious - the narrative often compared her to Olivia and found her lesser, she was never allowed to even mention her home place China and worst of all - the writing completely retconned the emotional abuse she suffered at home by claiming it emerged from loving protection, from wanting to keep their daughter away from a cult. And even though Hana's discovery of her sexuality was described by Kara as a "journey that she's still on", no attempts were ever made to show her exploring what she likes romantically, or to show her dating. We don't know if she's involved with anyone, we don't know where she lives, we learn very little of her interests beyond what benefits the MC at any given moment, and the narrative never fails to remind us that they like Olivia more than they like her. Hell, they still encourage Olivia to keep insulting and degrading Hana! Hardly the behaviour of writers who love a character so much they would marry them irl, honestly.
On the other hand, Madeleine wasn't very prominent in TRH1, but gained notoriety in the next two books. The first book has her occasionally engage in inappropriate, invasive badgering of the MC to get pregnant quickly, and she continues to pretend that her doing whatever she likes without ever consulting the person in charge is professional behaviour (eg. Setting up the presscon about the MC's pregnancy announcement. She never even considers whether the MC would be comfortable announcing this pregnancy or not at this time). She gets to deliver a small bit of foreshadowing in the second half of the book (an early hint about Queen Eleanor's pregnancy, though Madeleine's awareness of it hardly makes sense when you look at the entire TRH series, and it never comes up as a point again). Her father being exposed as the traitor who poisoned the former queen builds up to a storyline that benefits her the most in the long run.
Hana is given one chapter where she can call Madeleine out on her entitlement (Savannah's bachelorette). She doesn't insult or berate Madeleine in TRH1 Ch 7, but is refreshingly no-nonsense and will not put up with Madeleine's constant whining about an event she had invited herself to. It's a small, cold comfort, since Hana's actions here are tied to making Savannah's bachelorette a success rather than for herself - but it's still gratifying to see Hana in a position where she can call people out without having to worry about the repercussions. Especially when the narrative disrespects Hana in so, so many other ways for the rest of the series.
In the same chapter, the ladies of the court are given an opportunity to talk about their love lives. Of the four, two women can speak about the people they like (Penelope about Ezekiel by default, and Olivia about Liam if you choose), and one only mentions him by name if the MC is married to someone else (Kiara, about Drake, if you choose to ask her over Madeleine). Madeleine doesn't mention anyone at all, insisting that marriage is something she will only consider for the benefit of her country or estate. This was a relief to players who feared that PB might attempt to push the possibility of romance between Madeleine and Hana again.
Though Madeleine doesn't get the romance that PB so desperately wanted to gift her in the last series, and she isn't given any further romances...the narrative clearly wasn't done pandering to her, even though Jeffrey was not officially a part of the team.
Remember how in the previous essay, we explored the levels to which PB encouraged players to coddle Penelope? Entire chapters would be spent just making her feel comfortable and safe, in encouraging her to help us. No actual initiative or enthusiasm from her end, even if her actions caused the problem or there were lives and reputations at stake. No, Penelope's comfort and happiness should be front and center.
Now think of that treatment, but on steroids and lasting for two whole books. That's what Madeleine's story - starting from TRH2 - looks like.
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TRH1 ends with the reveal that Madeleine's father, Godfrey, was involved in the assassination of Liam's mother Eleanor. So a certain amount of narrative focus on Madeleine was expected, perhaps. But the second book doesn't stop at just that.
We are not merely asked to be kind to Madeleine. No, kindness towards Madeleine is expected of us. The warning issued in TRH2 Ch 4 promises "consequences", which means we know straight off the bat that we will be punished if we're not nice enough. It insists we take note of her "fragile state", and give her the mercy and compassion she had never given to anyone in her court.
To give Madeleine the smallest of credits, she acknowledges this just two chapters prior to the oath ("in the past, our positions were once reversed and I was...unkind to you. I had no reason to expect any kindness from you..."). However, this admission does sound disingenuous in the face of the narrative's implicit demand that we treat her nicely. Because if she did recognise her own past behaviour in TRR2 esp as hurtful, and herself as not exactly deserving of kindness, then it makes no sense for her to judge people for behaving exactly as she expected. A genuine redemption arc would have been one where she understood no one owed her kindness after what she'd done, and still determinedly forged ahead to do good for her country. After all, the narrative wanted us so badly to believe this woman was patriotic, right? If her "patriotic spirit" was so tied to her ego that you needed to pamper and praise her every five minutes, just for her to not support such an obviously-foolish tyrant as Bartie Sr, then it can't have been as strong as canon so vehemently claimed.
TRH tracks our "treatment" of Madeleine over 2 books and 10 distinct scenes. Of these, 6 scenes allow us to choose between kind responses and unkind ones, 2 others require the player to choose one among multiple options of people, and 2 scenes are check-in dialogues rather than actual choices (which means that the player doesn't choose an option, they just find out through such scenes whether they are winning Madeleine's favour or not). I imagine that the first category is the most important, with the second being options that you don't necessarily need to choose Madeleine for if you want to go for one of the others, as long as you pressed enough "kind" options.
To elaborate, here's the breakdown:
Kind/Unkind Responses
- House Amaranth's pledge (TRH2 Ch 4). Notably, the "most hurtful" one doesn't even accuse her of anything - it just tells her that the family needs to earn back the Crown's trust. Compare that to Madeleine's accusations to Hana that she was trying to kill her and deserved to lose her position in court. You know, the cruel treatment that some Madeleine stans claimed "wasn't that bad".
- Carrying the Heir's train at Anointing Ball or not (Ch 5)
- Deciphering Madeleine's conversation with Godfrey on his boat (ie whether she is betraying or helping the MC) (Ch 6)
- Acknowledging Madeleine's help in capturing Godfrey, at the Gratitude Ball (Ch 7)
- Gently encouraging Madeleine into being Penelope's bridal attendant, rather than mocking her (TRH3 Ch 2). There is no longer any need to acknowledge Penelope's earlier fear of Madeleine - we are expected to forget entirely that she was the main reason why Penelope didn't want to return to court in TRR3.
- Trusting Madeleine to help with investigations at Fydelia (Ch 6)
Choosing Among Multiple People:
- Speaking about loyalty before making a pledge to the Heir. Other ladies of the house are also presented as choices (TRH 2 Ch 14)
- Babysitting the Heir during Fox Hunt. Other choices are Regina and Savannah (TRH3 Ch 10)
Relationship Check-in:
- The way Madeleine greets you at Fydelia (Warm Welcome/Cold Front) (TRH3 Ch 6)
- Whether Madeleine helps you escape with the Heir in Ch 13, or allows the child to get kidnapped by Godfrey in Ch 15 (Desparate Times/What Goes Around)
The ending of TRH3 has Madeleine either thriving and inheriting her mother's estate, or being merely fired from her job in Royal Communications (a better punishment would have been to strip the entire Amaranth family of their lands, but I digress). She is notably absent in TRF, possibly because she wasn't entirely very popular to start with and two whole books of coddling her didn't exactly help matters either. As one of the junior writers in the TRF team said, "some people exiled her so..."
The first few opportunities to win her over, notably emerge from attempts Madeleine makes to assure the Crown/MC of House Amaranth's loyalty, and you will find that even at an early stage she expects to be included in sensitive discussions that call for discretion, and to be constantly praised for her efforts. Let me give a reminder, again, that she hardly ever gave any praise to the women working for her, and in fact punished them just to keep them constantly in fear of her.
I know it sounds like I'm labouring too much on this point, but it's important to understand just how much effort the narrative had put into coddling this one woman. Chapters and chapters of branch coding, writing two routes, title cards, dialogues, rewards and consequences.
This is similar to the way the narrative encouraged kindness and sympathy towards Penelope, but it's now over a lengthier period of time and with more drastic consequences. We were required to coddle Penelope over a chapter each in three specific books, or be deprived of her support/help. We are required to constantly shower Madeleine with praise and sweet words over the course of 31 chapters, or she will help an unscrupulous Regent-Elect kidnap our child. She will even openly accept that the only reason she put a mere child through that, was because we weren't nice to her ("Wouldn't you have done the same to me? You've made it abundantly clear you see me as the enemy").
But if the MC deserved a punishment this cruel for just mocking Madeleine at every turn, then what punishments should Madeleine get for what she put her own ladies-in-waiting through? What should she get for planning to "break" one of her courtiers? A second broken engagement doesn't seem entirely enough by such parameters.
Then again - as I said before, the narrative deliberately shifted the goal posts for what a potential royal could and couldn't get away with, in the time between Madeleine's engagement tour and the MC's marriage, for this very reason. So that Madeleine would never have to face the kind of constant censure the MC and Liam would face regularly. Among characters in canon, or among largely biased stans in the fandom. Speaking of which...
Fandom
Madeleine's popularity has always been a mixed bag, ever since TRR2. By TRR2, there were people who loved her for what they thought were her craftiness and wiles, some who suspected her to be involved in the plot against the MC, and a number of Liam stans had reactions that ranged from stanning, to indifferent (after all, both Liam and Madeleine showed a mutual disinterest towards each other), to slightly jealous (after all, she was still his fiancée).
But it was Madeleine's treatment of Hana in Ch 7 that definitely crossed a line for quite a few. It was so unwarranted, and her justification for this act so inarguably cruel, that it turned several people off her immediately. The way canon dealt with this was to make her feature less in the story until the memory of the "chocolate incident" was faded and almost forgotten, and then encourage fans to sympathize with her.
The gamble definitely worked, with plenty of help from hardcore Madeleine stans who often downplayed what happened to Hana ("a prank", "making Hana cry just once" were some of the terms used to describe it). By TRR3, I recall having to remind some of my mutuals what actually happened in this scene - their own recollections of it were that vague. The Hana and Madeleine ship would have died a far quicker death if more people remembered this incident as it was shown, and not as narrative wanted us to remember it (and also, if more people cared that it was Hana being hurt, rather than their fave white girl/boy).
Madeleine gained some popularity among the wlw crowd - a couple of them did have a soft spot for stoic, aggressive or women often labelled as "bitchy" (I know a few who also showed a similar amount of love for ACOR's Xanthe or BB's Priya, to be fair...but the adulation for the white female antagonists was a lot more), and Madeleine clearly fit that bill.
A point that often came up from Madeleine stans who were wlw (and reiterated with other mean-girl characters) was that grey-shaded and villanous male characters weren't subject to as much censure as their favourites were. While there is truth to such an argument, it fails to take into account the role race often plays in the way some "mean" women are loved and certain others are scorned. Madeleine clearly did not have the scale of hate that a Xanthe or even a Kiara (who isn't even on the same level) got. In fact when it suited them, many in the fandom were more than ready to view Madeleine as a victim when Liam broke his engagement with her.
Madeleine's "patriotism" - as I've now clearly established - was a retcon made to erase the worst aspects of her characterization. Sometimes it was used to make people feel sorry for her losses, other times it was made to cover up her actual behaviour in TRR2. But there were very few readers who didn't consider it an undeniable fact. Even among those who were indifferent towards her. For instance, in an anon ask that compared Madeleine and QB's Poppy, a poster responded that "the difference between the two was that Madeleine had a sense of duty, and Poppy was just petty". In TRH3, players who claimed that "we can all agree Madeleine is fully redeemed" when she worked with the MC to protect the child from Bartie Sr, stayed mysteriously silent when the other consequence (her helping in the child's kidnapping because she didn't like the MC's pettiness) showed up.
And while these responses could be attributed to the way canon gassed Madeleine up in TRR2 and 3, some of these players had no problem nitpicking the political savvy or work of certain other (CoC) characters, esp Liam (often bashing them for "throwing parties every day", even though the general populace was depicted as being happy with their rule and influence. Mind you, no prompting from PB was necessary to bash these characters). So why were these parameters never applied to Madeleine? Why was practically no one asking what the political relevance of her bullying (as future Queen) was, or why we were expected to sing her praises for poor time management or terrible work ethics towards her boss, or ask what work she actually did in canon as Royal Comms Director? (There is a reference or two to the position, but you aren't shown that many instances of her doing much work). For quite a few, the fact that she walked around with a job title in TRH was more than enough (somehow Kiara never got this kind of fandom treatment despite being part of the Diplomatic Liaisons department).
How does this adulation for such a heavily retconned character, affect the way the Hana and Madeleine ship was viewed? For one, it meant that readers bought into the retcons easily enough that Hana's pairing with her was seen as an extension of her "redemption arc" by some.
Take the example of the various posts that argue in favour of this pairing, or fic that features them as a couple - a lot of them center Madeleine: her pain, her history, her reasons, the correctness of giving her a reward. Hana is barely mentioned or given much attention in these arguments - and often when she has any sort of voice, it is only there to humanize Madeleine. Supporters of this pair often took stances that were either ready to throw Hana under the bus, act like she hardly mattered, or treat her like some sort of blank slate to scribble their adulation for Madeleine over.
Hana is often viewed as less worthy of a focus - she is often the benevolent saint who forgives Madeleine because she "worked so hard to be better". Often it never matters to get into detail why Hana thought Madeleine earned her forgiveness, what Hana's perspective was, what journey she went through to get such a point. Because if Hana's journey really mattered in such a ship, the most pressing questions would revolve around why Hana should ever trust a person who wanted to break her in the first place. Why she should feel safe around such a person. Why her own friend group wouldn't want to protect her from such a person.
Some readers would bring up their parallels as daughters brought up in families that didn't value them, but neglect to take into account the nuances of those dynamics (Madeleine's mother at least wanted to be supportive, and no matter how bad things got, Madeleine was never in danger of being disowned. Hana was, repeatedly). Nor is it fully honest about how Madeleine was comfortable being a perpetrator of abuse, in contrast to Hana's own deep discomfort with the idea of controlling her partner.
In certain cases, I can maybe see this attitude in fandom emerging from an acceptance of the narrative's retcons as truth. But I also think there were as many readers who were just inclined to liking the mean white girl, and finding justifications and excuses for her behaviour.
Fandom's attitudes towards Hana herself often played a small role in how Hana's end of this story was ignored too. When TRR3 fucked up her arc phenomenally (by rushing her parents' turnaround from disowning her to supporting her in Ch 15), it became popular to view Hana as a lesser character, and the "meaner" white women as better. People who wanted other options for female LI often took their frustrations out on her, calling her "weak", servile and submissive, dismissing her honest accounts of the treatment she faced even from her own parents as "whining". If that was the way people preferred to view her emotionally abusive childhood...then what can one expect from such a fandom when she was being outright bullied?
Fandom was already comfortable with the idea of erasing Hana in their content, or replacing her with either their fave white girl (or an equally white OC esp in their fanfic - but more on that in a future Hana essay). So neglecting to center her in what would have been her only canonical alternative romance wouldn't be too difficult for some people.
Which merits the question...is there a way to write about (or write fic for) such a pairing, in a way that centers Hana, respects her story, makes it clear that she has the right to never forgive Madeleine no matter what she does to "earn" it - if that was what she wanted? I highly doubt it. You'd have to completely change Madeleine for that to happen, and that would more likely result in a situation where you were too busy working on her as a character, to give Hana the attention and focus she deserved.
And that's a real pity, because there's plenty to explore about Hana if you actually take the effort to look.
Conclusion
In a lot of ways, once the team had decided upon making Madeleine into a more positive character, they tried to draw a little from Olivia's arc to replicate its success. You can see some of these parallels in the way TRR2 structured the bachelorette as a semi-callback to the childhood- reveal-mocking-Savannah sequences in TRR1 Ch 7. Both chapters gave you reasons to start seeing these women in a different light, while still feeling free to dislike them. In both chapters they also targeted LIs - the only difference was that Drake's diamond scene post that confrontation centered him, and Hana's parallel diamond scene a book later...centered everyone else.
That attempt in TRR2 didn't work for several reasons - the timing wasn't right, Madeleine's cruelty had gone too far for some, the retconning hoodwinked quite a few people but not enough.
So when they tried to pair her up with the victim of her bullying, and twisted canon to make it happen - enough readers emerged to call it out, enough people pushed back by Ch 16, and the possibility of this alternative pairing garnered enough dislike that not only did the writers have to backtrack, but they also had to wipe away their past retcons and write in a scene where Madeleine gave Hana the full, unvarnished truth about the "chocolate incident". Hana was, thankfully, given a chance to give Madeleine her most polite "no".
And although that ship would never be brought up again, the team (even without Madeleine's top writer Jeffrey) still attempted to make pampering and uncritically praising her a narrative priority. She gained a bit more popularity during this time period - quite a few were inclined to feel sorry for her (especially considering the way her father's crimes affected her social standing) and saw only what happened if you were consistently nice to her.
But there was also a significant section of people who were tired of the constant coddling, and who didn't like that it was demanded of the player (when there were far more deserving WOC in the same book, who didn't get this level of kindness). It was significant enough that Madeleine wasn't given any scenes in the final book, and the writers cited her lack of popularity as a reason why.
As a Hana fan myself, it was a relief to see Hana not be paired up with her bully. But it was also immensely disheartening for me to see that "ship" get as far as it did, and to see the narrative do so much more work for Madeleine, than they did for Hana even in the follow up series. It was even more disheartening to see so many in fandom follow suit.
--
By now, we have explored 3 out of the 4 alternative pairings that TRR put forward for the LIs. They all vary in terms of buildup, attention, and payoff. But there are several things that are common about them. They all have either significant histories with the LI, or the narrative thinks they share something in common. The moment an "alternative" option ends up harming the MC, they are no longer suitable as an option because of the LI's loyalty towards her.
But perhaps the most common factor among the three women we have explored so far is how the LI is expected to treat the alternate, no matter how jealous the MC is allowed to get, no matter what the alternate themselves may have done in the past. The alternate is supposed to be treated well. With respect, with kindness, with compassion.
Betrayal doesn't allow an LI to treat their alternate badly. Bad behaviour doesn't allow an LI to treat their alternate badly. Disregarding consent doesn't allow an LI to treat their alternate badly. Classism doesn't allow an LI to treat their alternate badly. Not loving them back doesn't allow it either. Not even extreme levels of bullying...allows an LI to disrespect them.
In the next essay, we will see if any of these rules apply to our last alternative LI - Kiara.
Next: Drake and Kiara.
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