#He Falls First | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Dare to Surrender (Series) Part 4 [Javier Peña x f!reader]

Pairing: Javier Pena x f!reader [no name/ physical description/no use of y/n]

Words: 7.6

summary: You can’t stand Javier Pena but when Steve Murphy makes an off-hand remark that gets both you and Javier’s competitive sides going, there’s no telling how far you’ll go.

A/N: This is porn with a dash of plot because my other story is angsty and stressin’ too many people out and I love me a good enemies to lovers story.

MASTERLIST HERE

=========================================

Dare to Surrender Part 4

Why is Murphy out sick? Of all days why does he have to be out sick?! You need him here! You need his big looming sexually-neutralizing presence

Because today Javier Peña is wearing a suit.

Fuck.

He never dresses like this unless there's a courtroom or a serious meeting with Noonan. It's light in color, almost a frosted beige and it clings.... To everything. The curve of his ass, the tight muscle of his thighs.

You're convinced that you can even see the outline of the thickness between his legs when he twists a certain way. But maybe that's wishful thinking.

You've been doing a lot of that lately. In the month since you first slept with him there has been much thought about Javier Peña's body. Nights spent at home coming with his name huffed under your breath and shame on your cheeks.

But those thoughts are now overshadowed by thoughts of Bradley - Brad- Williams. His beautiful eyes and charming smile.

You showed him around Bogotá last Saturday, introduced him to your favorite food spots and the secret stretch of beach you go to when you're feeling overwhelmed.

It had been so easy, so fun. Brad had made you laugh and when he held your hand it was gentle. You'd spent the entire night waiting for him to kiss you, desperate for his mouth on yours. But Brad is a gentleman. He doesn't rush things. He kissed the corner of your mouth and said you he wanted to see you again.

He's nothing like Javier Peña.

And now you're here at work, wet and wanting and it's all because of the sloe-eyed DEA agent that's turning his gaze on you.

So while you can help but enjoy the view of Peña in a suit, you can't help but frown when he strides over.

///

"Mind if I use your phone?" he asks lowly, his eyes trailing over you.

You look good this morning, despite the frown. You've started loosening up at work, wearing your hair untied, your blouse not done up all the way to the top button. You seem more relaxed.

Javier thinks he knows why and it makes him drag a hand over his mouth to hide the grin.

"Why can't you use yours?"

"It's busted," Javier lies. He likes being this close to you, desperate to see how you react when he's near.

Before you used to ignore him, ire coming off of you in waves. But now? Now that he's made you come twice at this desk? Now your eyes flutter, your breasts heave. And your mouth? The quick way you bite back at him all flustered? It's so fucking sexy. It makes him hard.

He used to fuck his hand a couple times a week, just enough to make sure he was able to focus. Now though? Now it's daily, sometimes multiple times as he recalls you.

I need it faster. Please, baby?

He must be staring because you've glanced up from your file to glare at him.

"What? Use my phone or get lost."

///

Javier eyes lose that dreamy quality, replaced almost immediately with a glint you know too well. You ignore it, turning your attention back as he punches in the number on the phone.

"Hola," Javier greets. He begins speaking rapidly, his voice quiet and throaty.

You can hear a female voice on the other end of the phone but it's muffled. You don't speak Spanish, so you have no idea what he's saying. It's only when his voice drops that you realize something is off.

"Vas a hacerlo por mí hermosa?" Javier purrs. "Gonna pet her for me?"

Jesus Christ.

Your hand grips the pencil tightly in your fingers. You will the flush from your body and you make the notes in the margins. Small, tight letters.

Gonna pet her for me?

More Spanish, more deep chuckles that you force yourself to ignore, more tight margin notes and then mercifully he's concluded the conversation.

"Sorry," Javier says replacing the phone to its cradle. "Personal call."

It's too much. The thudding between your legs is now overwhelming. You force yourself to swallow, nodding. "Mhmmm."

"Speaking of calls," Javier starts, half sitting on your desk. "That's two wins to your zero, if memory serves."

You pretend you haven't heard him. Your right hand is hurriedly making notes while the left lies next to the page. Javier's fingers trail over your wrist, slipping under and you know he's trying to feel your pulse.

"Should we discuss my prize?"

" Peña -"

"I did your paperwork for a month," Javier tells you, his fingers still on your wrist. "Today marks thirty days. I even dressed up for the occasion."

Jesus, that's why he's wearing the suit?

"And now I want my reward for winning," Javier murmurs with an amused grin. "But I promise you, mine is much more pleasant for both of us."

He removes his hand from your wrist in order to slip a piece of paper over to you at your desk. You don't move to grab it; you just stare at it, your heart hammering.

"My address," he informs you when you make no attempt to open it.

His address to his apartment. The same one you heard him take that prostitute.

"I'm not one of your girls," you hiss at him. "You don't get to tell me where and when and force me to fuck you by saying I owe you."

Javier goes quiet and for the first time you think you see hurt there in his dark eyes. It's blinked away just as fast.

///

He moves to from your desk sharply, suddenly uncomfortable with your close proximity. He throws himself behind his own desk, his face hot.

Force you?

So you really do think that lowly of him. He's never forced a woman to do anything. Suspicions long suppressed pop up, igniting in his chest as he tries not to look at you.

He’d always suspected you thought yourself better than him. But he’d always laughed it off, thought it strangely amusing. Thought you only felt that way because of rumors around the embassy.

He'd thought this whole thing was all in good fun. Teasing and sexy and a way to relax. He'd worn the suit because he was excited. Excited to talk to you about his prize and just excited to talk to you full stop.

When you aren't arguing with him you're making very good points about work. When you're not criticizing him, he finds you funny in a dark, dry way.

And he thought you were actually starting to enjoy his company. Hadn't he made you laugh? Didn't he bring you coffee every morning, one milk two sugars just like you always take it?

Where did things go wrong?

Because you're not smiling. In fact your face is miserable and anxious looking. It makes him wish he'd never started the whole thing in the first place.

There's a knock at the office door.

"Come in," you say with a tremor in your voice. Javier expects Carillo so he's surprised when a tall blonde enters the room.

Brad fucking Williams.

He turns his megawatt smile on you and Javier watches as your face previously pinched and anxious blooms into the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"Hi Brad."

"Hi osita," Brad teases.

Javier grits his teeth. That was your inside joke with him, not fucking Brad.

And why do you smile so bright when Brad calls you osita and not Javier? Why does Brad get flushed cheeks with wide smiles and Javier gets nothing but scowls?

Javier forces his attention back to his typewriter, feeding the paper into the roller.

"Hi Javier," Bradley says waving to Peña before striding over to your desk. Javier doesn't even look up but gives a sharp nod.

"Bradley."

Javier's eyes drag from his typewriter over to you. Brad is settled at the edge of your desk, sitting similar to how Peña does when he's irritating you.

"It's nice to see you again," you say with pink cheeks and bright eyes as you gaze up at him.

"Couldn't stay away."

"I'm glad."

Javier feels his eyes widening in shock at the realization of why you're acting like this. Are you still actually trying to flirt with this guy? This bland piece of toast on legs?

You give a small giggle at something Brad murmurs. A sound Javier has never heard from you. Ever. It sounds forced.

Javier scoffs out loud; only aware the sound has carried when he realizes that you're glaring over at him. You turn your attention back to Brad and the smile is back on your face.

"So are you around Friday night?" Brad murmurs. "I wanna pay you back for showing me around on Saturday."

Showing him around on Saturday? What the fresh hell is this? Since when? Is this why you're acting so weird?

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

"Dinner? Dancing? There's that club everyone talks about here. Gusto I think it's called?"

"Let's do it. Sounds fun."

You nod, tilting forward slightly. When you do this, Javier (and Brad your intended recipient) can see the white lace of your bra peeking out from under your shirt.

Javier's mouth goes dry.

He hates that so much of your body is still left to be explored. To be seen, kneaded, touched, nipped, licked and sucked. And he hates that this giant, blonde bulk of a man standing by your desk is going to be the one to do it. Not Javier.

Fuck this.

///

Dinner and dancing at a club?

You can imagine few things worse.

You hate the pulsing music and dark, alcohol covered floors. You hate the men that grope at you and call you names in Spanish, ugly ones. You hate paying for overpriced drinks that they always mark up as soon as they see you – turista, they whisper.

But Brad is so handsome and sweet and if he wants to go dancing why shouldn't you just suck it up and try to have a good time?

You subtly press your arms together hoping to get Brad's attention that way. So far he's been impossibly gentlemanly, and when you tilt over exposing the lace edges of your bra, he darts his gaze away quickly, his face flushing.

"Fuck this."

You hear the mumble from across the office and you both watch as Javier pushes from his desk with a grunt, striding from the room with his leather jacket under his arm. The door to the office slams behind him.

You shrug, looking up at Brad in confusion. He shrugs back but then becomes emboldened now that it's just the two of you.

"Well, I'm looking forward to Saturday," Brad says, his tongue trailing over his lower lip. "But I don't want to wait until then for this."

His fingers fly to your chin, holding you in place as he lowers his face to yours. You feel the soft graze of his lips against yours and you smile. He's so impossibly gentle, so sweet. And the kiss is just that, gentle and sweet.

He pulls back from you looking shy and smiling. "I hope that was okay?"

"More than okay."

"So, Saturday?"

"Why not tonight?" You offer huskily because at the sensation of Brad's kiss you feel your entire body starting to thrum with anticipation. The arousal pooling between your legs as you stare up at him thinking of all the things you could do tonight.

He could fuck you over your des-

Nope. No no no. Stop that. Plenty of other places to have sex!

Bradley is surprised at your response but he quirks a smile. "Working late for Carillo "

Oh right. People actually work here.

He pushes off your desk, grinning at you. "I'll see you Saturday, osita-"

Osita.

Dark brown eyes flash behind your eyelids.

You wave Brad off, glancing back at your desk and the paper scattered on top of it. Your eyes move guiltily to the files Peña completed for you last night.

Doing your paperwork for a month. Just as what? A bargaining tool? A way to ensure you’ll sleep with him again?

Why can't you stop thinking about Javier? It's not like he's a particularly nice part of your day. It's not like he causes you anything other than grief and frustration.

And yet as the pulsing between your legs continues all you can think of is him and how he wore that suit today. That’s sweet isn’t it? Almost affectionate in a teasing sort of way.

But he was so angry when he left. Confusing you, distracting you. Was he upset by that offhand remark about the prostitutes?

"Why do I care?" You say out loud to yourself.

Who cares if Javier stormed off? Who cares if he had that sad look in his eyes before? Who fucking cares?

You sure don't.

///

Javier Peña’s apartment is a clear reflection of who he is. It's bare, no mementos hung on the walls and most of his items still in boxes. He never unpacked them when he moved here and he doubts he ever will.

His bed is his only luxury, lush with sweet smelling pillows and thick sheets. But he's on the sofa, a blanket from home over his legs and his thoughts on the only two topics that occupy his mind these days.

Capturing Escobar.

And you.

It's weird how much you occupy his thoughts. At first he understood it, this distraction of wanting to fuck you. But now he has and it's still not enough. It's actually worse.

There will always be more to discover in you. New areas of flesh to taste and pinch and kiss. New sounds to draw from you. New positions and places.

Taking Sofia to bed with you listening on the phone had been electric. At first it had been a tease, a way to get under your skin. But the more he'd talked, envisioning she was you, the more he'd wanted it to be you.

When you hadn't hung up, he'd known. You want him just as much as he wants you. So why are you playing coy? Why are you acting like you want that fucking Williams agent with all the charm of a boiled potato?

If you were Javier's girl it wouldn't be dancing at some club. Anyone who has known you five minutes knows how much you hate that shit.

No, it would be dinner in some exotic locale where the two of you would be tucked away together drinking good wine and eating good food. And laughing. He loves making you laugh. Then it would be skinny dipping in the Laguna Chisaca, kissing in the darkness. Then he'd take you home, showering the sand from your bodies together, fucking you there against the tile before taking you to his bed where he'd make you come in any position you wanted as many times as you wanted.

The thought of such an evening has him hard and he's sure his tip is already weeping. Javier resigns himself to another night of self pleasure when there's a knock at the door. It's late, too late for a social call.

He moves to the door and his heart gallops even as he tells himself it can't be you. Maybe it's Murphy or Carillo or-

It's you.

Hair wild and face flushed as you worry your bottom lip. When he fully opens the door and you tilt back to look into his eyes he feels his stomach jump. He affects a casual pose, one forearm on the doorframe as his dark eyes scan your body.

"Osita," he rumbles. "This is a pleasant surprise."

He sees you bristle at the nickname before you're pushing past him into the apartment, as if by doing this you can't back out.

"One last time," you tell him, shrugging off your jacket. "Tonight and then it's done."

Javier watches you toss the jacket onto a chair, your eyes going around to survey his place before landing back on him. He responds with a smirk and a rising brow.

"Better make it count, then."

///

"I'm not saying that."

You shake your head as you take in what he's requested. Your cheeks are burning just at the thought. "When you lost all you had to do was my paperwork."

"For an entire month."

"I'll do yours," you insist, your voice taking on a plaintive edge. "For two months."

"But that's not what I want," Peña says almost laughing at how horrified you look. "I want this."

The two of you are standing in his kitchen. You're holding an empty water glass, glancing around his sparse apartment. Hasn't he lived here for several years?

"How am I supposed to look you in the face after this, Peña?"

Javier's hands are stemmed at his hips and he's giving you an incredulous look.

"You've sucked my cock, let me fuck you bareback and made yourself come at your desk," Peña says with amusement bordering on awe. "And this is what you find embarrassing?"

You know he's right, but in every one of those instances you'd never had to do anything you didn't personally find sexy. This... verbal prompt however? It makes you pull a face.

"It's so . . . weird" you insist.

There are so many worse things Javier could have requested. Javier moves the empty glass from your grip to the table. Then his hand slides along your side, pulling you gently to face him. He tilts forward.

No kissing

You tilt away until his mouth grazes your earlobe.

"Just try it," Javier coos. "That's all I ask."

You take a moment, your eyes flicking over his. He looks so calm, so amused. His dark eyes are simultaneously warm and heated. You take a deep breath nodding. "P-"

"No, not yet," Javier insists in a whisper, his finger coming to press against your lips, stilling them. "I'll let you know when."

You roll your eyes. "Let's do this then."

The smile is still there in his face but his eyes tell the different story. His entire disposition changes and he takes a step back from you.

"I'm not going to force you to do it," Peña says and suddenly that haunted, sad look is back from this afternoon.

"I know," you reply just as quickly. "I know you're not."

"And we don't have to do. .. this " He motions between the two of you. You frown.

"You didn't make me come here tonight. I chose to."

He nods, satisfied that this is cleared up. You extend your hand to him, nodding that you're ready. He smiles that warm, playful smile of his and takes your hand in his. He begins to lead you into the hall.

"Not your bed," you say, your eyes turning pleading when Javier rolls eyes. "It's my only rule for tonight. I promise."

For some reason the thought of doing it in Javier's bed feels too intense, too domestic.

He nods and now guides you to the sofa pressed against the wall. Without pausing he removes his shirt, leaving him shirtless in jeans. You can't help it admire the breadth of his shoulders and the tapering of his waist. He reaches a hand to the belt loop of your skirt, hooking his finger there and tugging you into him.

Your hands fly to his chest for purchase and you marvel at how smooth his skin is, how taut against sinewy muscle.

"You nervous, osita?" He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours so lightly you're not sure it happened. "You're trembling."

You are. You're fucking trembling and he's barely touched you.

Get it together.

You're just so desperate for release after seeing Brad and his sweet mouth and you know that Javier is all tongue and fluid hips. He makes you feel feverish just being this close to him.

"I'm just cold."

"Then let me warm you up."

And now his fingers have come to the buttons of your blouse. He undoes them quickly, his breath growing labored.

Your bra is unremarkable. A simple lace thing that you wear because it doesn't show under your blouse. But when Peña sees it, it's like Christmas come early.

"Always wondered what you wore under there," Peña says softly. Before you can assure him that you have much better under things his mouth is back on yours, his hands dragging down the cups of your bra so he can push you out of it.

Your nipples hit the air; pebbling and you inhale sharply against his mouth. He kneads your tits, tongue laving over your nipples until you're shaking against him.

He looks to your relaxed face and feels his cock being strangled by his jeans

"Want you out of that skirt," he groans. His hand reaches for the zipper at the back but you still him.

"Condom," you remind him. You don't want to start and get carried away. Javier looks confused.

"You're on the pill."

"And I heard you on the phone with that woman," you tell him pointedly. "So condom."

"She was clean," Javier tells you, pouting. "Plus you heard me, I wore one with her."

"After you'd had quite a bit of fun," you say, tilting your head back. "Condom or I'm leaving, Javier."

Javier sighs heavily through his nose. Regret regret regret. He's going to the clinic tomorrow to prove he's clean. He only wants to fuck you without a condom. He only wants to fuck you.

"Gotta make me hard first," he whispers as if he isn't already well on his way. You can see the bulge in his jeans from here.

Nevertheless you nod, looking thoughtful before moving to the buttons on your blouse and swiftly unbuttoning the rest of them before letting the blouse fall to the floor. Javier watches, still half dressed as you reach behind and remove the clasp of your bra, unhooking and feeling as your breasts are released.

You don't miss the sharp inhale from Javier as he stares. The bra joins the blouse on the floor at your feet, discarded and forgotten. You stand before him in just your skirt.

"Does this help?" You murmur.

"Yes," is his immediate reply. You watch as he fumbles with his jeans button, slipping them down over his narrow hips. Then he's naked and Jesus, he's gorgeous.

You get it.

You get why the women gaze at him when he saunters by. Now that you've been fucked by him, now that you've seen him naked and bronzed and beautiful you get it.

After taking a moment to take in the sight of his unabashed naked frame you stand there before him in only your skirt your own chest heaving in anticipation. You wonder what he sees when he sees you naked. He can't be as struck dumb as you.

You slowly move your hands to cup your breasts, forefinger dragging along the hard nipples. Javier is just standing there open mouthed, staring. You feel antsy and irritated that you're not fucking yet.

"We doing this or not, Peña?"

Javier snaps to as if being woken by a hypnotist. He reaches into the table next to the sofa pulling it the small square foil. Always prepared. The condom is opened, and you watch as Javier moves it around the blushing head of his cock with practiced ease. He does it quickly, well versed, and the sight hits you between the legs.

How does he manage to make that look sexy?"?

"You wanna do the honors?" He quips when he catches you watching him.

He's surprised when you nod, replacing his hand with your own as you roll it down the remaining length of his shaft. You don't look at his face, can't get stuck in his eyes. You feel your cheeks warming when his thrusts forward in your hands.

"You like my cock, pretty girl?"

You remain silent, sliding the condom down, watching Javier's eyes shutter as it reaches the base of his cock.

"You know the secretary Virginia? She said you were big but I always thought she was exaggerating."

You can see the immediate delight in his face at that. You've finished putting on the condom but it doesn't stop you from gently stroking him through it, fascinated at the feeling of the latex over his stiff cock.

He shudders at the sensation before he takes your hand and leads you to the sofa. He drops down naked, cock poised.

You feel as his hand comes to the zipper at your skirt. He unzips quickly, eager to see more as he pushes it down over your hips.

The skirt pools at your ankles leaving you wearing nothing but the pale blue panties you tossed on fresh from the laundry. In this moment you wish you had chosen something sexier than blue cotton.

Javier says nothing, simply drags his hand over his mouth and murmurs something in Spanish. You curl your fingers over the top of your panties, getting ready to step out of them.

"Slower," Javier tells your hips in a low murmur. He shifts, his arms adjusting over the back of the sofa.

"Striptease wasn't part of the deal," you say embarrassed. It makes you feel too exposed, even in the darkening light of his apartment. "You want a good show; go see one of your girls."

You don't say this with malice, just amusement. You even smile over at him when you do. Javier pulls his heavy gaze from the center of your thighs, creating a scorching trail all the way to your eyes.

"You don't even get it, do you?"

"What?"

"How fucking sexy you are."

You feel your entire body flooding with shy delight at Javier's husky declaration. But you feel too observed, too seen. It makes you feel funny. You want to get this whole thing started.

"Enough," you chide as you quickly strip off your panties and then cover your sex with your hand. Javier looks pained at this, his brows saddling.

"No, baby," Javier croons, pulling your hands away so he can see. "Don't hide -"

"Don't call me that," you snap, hating the newest nickname he’s given you.

Osita. Pretty girl. Well, the latter isn't the worst. But nicknames like baby? Those feel too intimate. Just as if you fucked in his bed. You pull your wrists from his hands. Then the dazed look is gone from Javier's eyes, like he's trying to control himself.

"So, you and Virginia talk about my dick a lot?” Javier asks, prompted by your previous conversation.

"No," you shake your head smirking at him. "I just listen. You have quite the reputation."

Javier chuckles, welcoming you into his lap with outstretched arms. You move into them and his hands slide down your spine, coming to curve around the globes of your ass, urging you down.

You bracket his thighs with your own as you crawl into his lap, your hands going to his shoulders to steady yourself. Your chest is at his mouth level as you do this. Javier tilts his mouth to capture one of your straining nipples, licking and nipping as you let out a sharp intake of breath at the pleasant sensation.

Javier shifts, laying down the length of the sofa. He keeps you balanced on his hips, but you have to grab the back of the sofa with one hand to keep steady. Javier gazes up at you, his head tilted by the arm of the sofa.

"You know what the guys say about you?"

The amusement drops from your face. "Guys talk about me?"

"Last week," Javier tells you, hips shifting as he urges you to sink down his bobbing length. "Haldeman was asking Ortiz who he thought was the most fuckable in the department."

You barely interact with anyone outside your own office. You didn't even think you'd be on their radar.

"Gross."

"You won by a landslide," Javier tells you through a groan as the lips of your pussy circle the head of his cock. You hate that this pleases you in any way. You don't want to think of an office of senior agents talking about wanting to fuck you. It's disgusting and what if Brad heard?

Brad.

You smile as thoughts of Brad's mouth guide your slick cunt down Javier's waiting cock.

Javier lets out a soft hissing noise when you finally slide down his length. He's still so fucking disappointed to be wearing a condom but then you start rocking against him and all the animosity drains from his body because it feels good. Really good.

He watches as your brows knit together when you take him, your mouth hitched. You look fucking gorgeous, sitting there on his hips, his cock buried in you. His hips shift, urging you to rock against him.

"And you know what I was thinking the whole time I was with those agents, osita?"

"Mmm?"

"That I'm the only one who knows what this pussy feels like," Javier grunts, hands on your hips. "The only one who's seen your needy cunt just aching to be filled with my come."

You suppress a low moan. Javier has a way of saying the exact filthy thing that you need to hear. The exact thing to make that pull at your core go deep.

His hands come to grip your tits as you ride him, curving and kneading with his long fingers. Then those digits disappear into his mouth coming out wet and twisting your sensitive nipples as you hiss in pleasure.

You tilt back, taking him deeper. It hits something inside you that blurs your vision. Javier's cock notches so perfectly inside you it makes you whimper, your body jolting at the steady pace he begins.

"Those sounds," Javier groans, his hands spreading over your lower back and guiding you to just the right angle. His right hand snakes over the crease of your thigh to find your clit flush with his hips. He circles it, tapping and causing a deep tugging sensation at your core. You grunt against him, rolling your hips.

"Take it," Javier urges. "Take it all, pretty girl."

It feels surreal to be riding Javier Peña in his place, on his ugly sofa. Fingers of night creep along the walls of his apartment as headlights pass by, the sound of traffic just outside.

He feels good. That's the thing, just sitting here, pussy swallowing him, Javier feels good. One of your hands is still on the back of the sofa, keeping you balanced as you begin to shift over him. The other covers his hand on your hips, nudging you to and fro.

You rock against each other slowly, languidly. Javier is so good at it, touching and circling your clit just enough before ebbing away, bringing you so close and then taking you to a deeper pleasure. You don’t know how long this goes on before the tension is back, your focus stuck on making sure he comes.

This is Javier’s reward, his prize and you don't mind him taking it. You still feel terrible about what you said before.

"No," Javier admonishes gently.

Your eyes fly open to see him frowning up at you. "What?"

Javier looks at your face concerned before his hand takes yours and pries it from the sofa back. He guides you by the wrist to his chest.

"Put your hands here. Both of them."

You look at him strangely, leaning slightly forward to place both your hands palm down on his pectorals. His broad chest flexes under your touch.

"Lean forward.”

You do, confused as to what this is all about when your body tilts and he shifts his hips up. Suddenly you're hitting him at a new angle. A new angle that feels really fucking good.

"F-Fuck!"

"There she is," Peña smiles up at you when your eyes shut, pleasure overtaking your body at the sensation. "I need you feeling good."

You do. It feels really really good to roll your hips over his, to take him deep and to just enjoy it. There will be no further bet, no further prize so you can just enjoy this night.

"Gonna bounce on it, osita?"

He asks it like a question, even lifts his brows but it's no inquiry. He's already started thrusting up and down, delighted with you when you nod. You lift your hips up, circling and then slowly starting to bounce against his hips, sliding along his pistoning cock.

"So pretty," Javier coos as you take him. "Such a pretty girl riding me."

Your palms are still on his chest, your head pitched forward as you bounce. You feel your arousal dripping down his cock as he fucks you.

"So fucking wet," Javier says in a voice of soft awe. "Are you close?"

Something in the surprise of his tone makes you feel embarrassed, like you shouldn't already be so close. You go to tilt your face away from him but his hands are coming to move the hair from your face, cupping your cheeks almost affectionately if you didn't know him better.

"Don't be shy," he commands, and you nod. His hands slide over your breasts again, thumbs grazing over those straining nubs. "Doing so good, pretty girl."

It feels so good like this, so perfect that he's calling you pretty girl and how his teeth grit when he’s grunting up, fucking you. His dark eyes are heavy lidded, and the sight turns you on more than you comprehend and now it's starting; that impossibly good feeling that borders on desperation. The fervent need to climax but not rush things that makes you whimper out short little whines as you rock against him.

"I know," Javier soothes, as if this is painful for you. "I know, baby. Gonna feel so good so soon. Gonna make you feel so fucking good."

You're having a hard time focusing on anything anymore. The fact that he's called you baby, the sweetness to his tone. All overlooked as you chase your climax.

His thumb is circling your clit again as he's thrusting up into you, his hand on your thigh and you can feel yourself getting so fucking close. You just need a little more pressure and it'll feel so good. You're so close. You start chanting under your breath.

"More .. More...."

Javier can see your slackened jaw, the way your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and he knows you're close. You move lazily, feeling absolutely wrecked already. Peña does his best not to grin up at you. You’ll take it for mockery when its anything but.

"I wanna give you more, but you need to give me what I asked for," Javier tells you in the voice of a gentle teacher. "Remember?"

The rhythm is slowing, his hips formerly bouncing you up and down on his cock now barely move. He's waiting, looking up at you expectantly. You growl down at him exasperatedly. Javier just smiles up at you in response, the grin now full of gentle teasing. He wonders if you're actually going to say it.

It's all he wants, just to make you say it so that you'll begin blushing the entire length of your body.

It's amusement really, something to tease you about later. He loves how you look when you're angry with him; all pink cheeks and bright eyes.

He knows you hate nicknames and this one in particular. And that's exactly why he picked it as his prize.

You'd been matched with Javier early on in your position at the embassy and instructed to go on a ride along with him one morning. The object of the ride along was to get information from a new intel from a woman that just so happened to be from Peña's favorite cat house.

From the minute he'd entered the brothel before you, you'd heard nothing but an onslaught of the term from the women flocking around their favorite DEA agent/customer. Beautiful women swarmed him, some pressing kisses to his cheek, others simply smiling at him.

Javier had smiled crookedly each time he caught you rolling your eyes when the term came up. You told him later it was disgusting. He'd just laughed.

"C'mon, pretty girl."

He shifts his hips to slowly circle out of you before thrusting brutally back inside. As his cock grazes your clit in the ascent you give a needful yelp

"Give it to me."

He sees the way you steel yourself, the way you try to focus even though Javier can see you sliding your hips up and down him the best you can until you finally groan.

"Si...papi."

The second he hears it, the honorific you'd been avoiding, he smiles widely. He can see how red you've gotten and you're rewarded with your hips being pulled viciously against Peña's as he fucks you again in earnest.

"Yes," you groan out.

It feels so good. He hits so deep. Your tits bounce heavily as he thrusts up into you, holding you by the waist so he can drive himself into that sweet spot you can never reach yourself.

"So good," you're moaning without even thinking about it.

"So fucking good," Javier reaffirms. "Taking papi's cock so well."

Javier looks forward to brushing by you at work, pretending to grab a coffee or a file just so he can lower his mouth to your ear and ask in the lowest voice he can manage if you've "been good for papi?' he can't wait to see you get flustered at work.

You suddenly toss your hair from your face, biting your lower lip and looking so fucking good as you move against him.

"More," you moan, your hands over his that hold your hips. "Please papi, more."

The amusement drains from Peña's gaze as you thrust your hips against his. You're so needy, so desperate and you say the word like it was meant for Javier alone. Peña never expected you to be into the whole 'papi' thing. The last thing he'd expected was for you to gaze down at him, still bouncing, and say it again.

"Fuck," he growls, his hands on your hips thrusting you further and faster along his cock. You're so wet you can take him even deeper without trying. "Say it again."

He knows you're emboldened by his own delighted reaction and this turns him on even more. You're turned on because he's turned on. You're smiling down at him, your body warm and rolling against his.

"Need your big cock, papi," you cry out, no longer inhibited. "Fuck me deep, please."

Javier can tell now that you're actually into it. The way your pupils have blown wide. Or maybe it's how you can see that Javier likes it and his arousal is turning you on.

Suddenly he needs to hold you to him, to feel your entire body warm in his arms.

He shifts you until his spine is against the back of the sofa and you're sitting in his lap, still rocking as he wraps his arms around you, banding against your lower back. Your eyes are unfocused, your body movements have become slow and lazy.

She's drunk on my cock, Javier thinks smugly, his mouth goes to your neck, pressing damp kisses there before pulling back, still rocking into you.

"Is my girl feeling good?"

"Mmm so good, baby," you slur not thinking, your forehead pressing against his as your hips roll. Javier lets out a strangled noise as his cock drives deeper in and out, in and out.

He urges your mouth to his and in the heat of the moment you eagerly kiss him back, all rules forgotten. His lips are so full and soft and when he kisses you, you're convinced you feel it everywhere. You let yourself surrender, your eyes closed as he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth.

"You have no idea how fucking sexy you sound," Javier tells you between kisses. "So fucking sexy bouncing on my cock and calling me that."

You smile, preening under the praise. Pleasure just keeps rippling through you like tiny little massages everywhere. You feel sleepy but in the best possible way. It makes you want to be nice and soft for him.

"I like making you feel good," you murmur serenely.

He licks into your mouth once more and is rewarded with a soft sigh from you and your arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close.

"Gonna come for me pretty girl?" Javier asks, his hands skimming all over your back before pulling you tightly against him.

"Wanna come for you," you tell him, your temple against his. Javier feels his hips stutter and decides to press his luck.

"Am I making you feel good, baby?"

"Mhmmm."

"You like fucking me don't you?"

"Yes, Javi," you gasp before you kiss him again, your mind full of everything and nothing all at once.

Your arms are around his shoulders and you must have done something right because you hear the moan ripped from him and feel him empty into the condom.

You follow in quick succession, grunting and rutting against him calling his name as you come, falling against his shoulder as you do.

///

Moments span, liquid time where everything feels hazy and sluggish. Moments spent with your forehead on Javier's shoulder while he breathes in the crook of your neck.

This is when your arms should drop from around his neck and his from around your waist, but they don't. You continue straddling him as he softens, your body

"Fuck it's freezing," you finally say shivering. Javier smirks, reaching to the far back of the sofa and bringing the crochet flower blanket his mother made for him as a child around your shoulders.

He wraps you in it, only your face peeking out at him as you continue to sit straddling his lap. You give a yawn, drawing an indulgent smile from him.

"Sleepy?"

"Mhmm."

"Just rest."

You're too tired to fight him on it. Too tired to tell him it's too intimate. He shifts until he's laying down the length of the sofa, bringing you with him in his arms. You nestle in his arms, tucked up with the blanket over both of you. You roll to your side, your hand going over his sternum.

Your eyes are shuttering closed, feeling the steady beat of his hearts dance under your fingertips. His large hand covers yours there.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"What for?" Javier asks sleepily, his eyes closed. You realize he must be drifting off as well.

"The thing I said about you forcing me. I know you'd never force me or anyone into bed with you. It was a shitty thing to say."

"You were just living up to your nickname," Javier smirks, his hand stroking yours over his chest. "Looks sweet but oh, that bite, osita"

He tries to keep it light. He has no desire to make you feel shitty right now. Not after such a great night.

"Javier."

Javier cracks open an eye to look at you. You so rarely use his first name. You're propped up on his shoulder, your hand on his sternum.

"Mmm?"

You give him a level stare, urging him to truly listen.

"I'm sorry."

The amusement is gone now, leaving only dark-eyed vulnerability in Peña. The kind you saw when he left your desk earlier that day. Your eyes swim over each other's and Peña can't help but trace a knuckle over your cheek before he nods.

"I know, baby."

It slips out of him, the muttered term of endearment. But you don't flinch or cringe from him this time. You just nod, your head tilted back down.

"Wake me up in an hour," you tell him sleepily. "I'll leave then. I just need a quick nap."

Javier murmurs something against the crown of your head but you're already asleep.

///

It's light when you wake up. Well past an hour has passed because it's clearly almost morning. The early sounds of Bogotá are outside the window. You hold in a groan.

Thanks a lot Peña.

Javier holds you tightly in his arms; his breathing huffed over your cheeks. In your sleep your bodies have both found refuge under the blanket together, legs entwined. He's hard against you, morning arousal nothing new to you and you ignore it, casting a sleepy look at your colleague.

His face is relaxed, his full lips parted as he breathes slow and even. You're shocked at how sweet he looks when his face is unguarded. No sneers or smirks, just sweet unguarded Javier.

You feel a strange pull, a slight feeling of affection. Maybe he's not as annoying as you always thought.

A still very sleepy part of you considers waking him up, urging him onto his back so you can fuck again but really slow.

You inch back off the sofa and out of his arms, pulling on your clothes scattered nearby. When you're dressed and your purse is over your shoulder you stop by the sofa. You don't know why, what compels you to do so. But you take a moment to stare down at Javier's sleeping face one last time.

His mouth is so impossibly pouty, so plump. His dark lashes fan out over his cheeks. His hair is tousled from sleep. He's so pretty. You can't stop yourself from bending down and pressing your lips against his gently, marvelling at how soft and warm they feel against yours. Quickly you pull back, sure not to rouse him.You leave, trying to keep the sound of the closing door behind you as quiet as possible.

As soon as the door closes, a very awake Javier opens his eyes.

#javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal javier #javier pena x reader #Javier Peña #narcos fanfiction #javi pena #fanfics #fanficion #fanfiction #smut #coworkers #he falls first

70 notes · View notes

hlizr50 · 8 months

Text

It's been a long time since I posted something here...

So how about a Fourth Wing oneshot????

**SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!**

Read on AO3

Violet Sorrengail.

But it couldn’t be.

She was supposed to be a scribe, safe and sweet and sequestered in the archives. A girl — young woman — like her would be broken by the Riders Quadrant. Hell, seeing how small she was, the Parapet alone could be lethal.

Did Brennan know?

Xaden looked the youngest Sorrengail over, appraising her from head to toe as he struggled to maintain that mask of calm. She was so petite. Thin. Her body was clearly lacking the years of training that the other cadet hopefuls had completed: even the slightest among them was lean with muscle. Violet Sorrengail’s body was that of a scribe, and the wing leader could only wonder what had changed.

Had she decided to honor her late brother’s memory?

Did she feel a pressure to follow in the footsteps of her sister of her mother?

Or did she just have a death wish?

Regardless, she was fucking exquisite. There was silver winding through the braided coronet that crowned her head, drained of color from the illness she’d suffered as a child. Xaden’s fingers twitched with the desire to feel the silver strands between them.

Fuck, life just got a lot more complicated.

“Sorrengail?” His voice rumbled with his best intimidating growl.

When she stepped forward her crown didn’t even reach his collarbone. She was tiny , but she still lifted her chin and fixed him with a stubborn glare.

Adorable.

Little Sorrengail nodded once, but didn’t speak. They were locked in a moment of grim recognition, and Xaden saw the hate that darkened her pretty hazel eyes. He could imagine why.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s youngest.” It was less a statement and more of an accusation. It would be expected that he would loathe any connection to the general with the same intensity that burned in Violet’s gaze. And though this was a massively unexpected circumstance, he had too many secrets that had to be kept.

“You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” The girl lifted her chin a little higher — a show of bravado, though she held her body so rigidly he thought she might snap in half.

What the fuck was she doing here?

Xaden took a deep breath. “Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” And his mother’s. And the parents of all the other marked ones.

And it would have been all of the children, including himself, had he not thrown down his desperate deal. He would carry the marks of that burden until he took his dying breath, but it would be worth it to give them all a fighting chance.

“Your father killed my older brother.” Oh, if she only knew. “Seems like we’re even.”

“Hardly.”

Not even fucking close.

Xaden made a show of trailing his onyx eyes down her torso, judging her with a barely-contained sneer. But his scrutiny yielded some interesting results. A scaled leather corset hugged her ribs, highlighting the curve of her hips.

“Your sister is a rider. Guess that explains the leathers,” he quipped.

“Guess so.” She stubbornly held his glare, so determined to stand up to him and establish her strength. The marked man couldn’t help but appreciate it. That hubris may well save her life in the quadrant. Or mark her doom.

The thought made his whole body go rigid as he clenched his fists.

“You all right?” A new voice drew his attention. It landed on a young woman with smooth, brown skin and rows of short braids atop her head. The newcomer looked between him and Violet, though her concern appeared focused on Sorrengail’s obvious discomfort.

“You’re friends?” He asked, hackles rising. Trust was dangerous in the Riders Quadrant, and Violet Sorrengail was out there making fucking friends.

“We met on the stairs.” The girl’s dark eyes hardened as she straightened and squared her shoulders.

Picking a side.

A few stone steps and they were ready to trade blows for each other. How cute.

Looking her over, as well, his gaze landed on her feet. Two mismatched boots. When his eyes slid over, he found Violet’s shoes in a similar state. One pair of boots was standard issue for riders — obviously from Mira Sorrengail. Xaden cocked a brow and looked back up at the tiny woman with the silver-streaked hair, lips twitching.

“Interesting.”

Taking obvious offense to his expression, Violet lifted her chin another inch. Any higher and she might dislocate something. “Are you going to kill me?”

What an odd question.

Rain roared in a deluge as their gazes clashed, speckled hazel and gold-flecked midnight. The water soaked her through almost instantly, leaving strands of chocolate and silver sticking to her brow in delicate curls as droplets fell from the tip of her pointed nose.

He wanted to catch them with the tip of his tongue.

A scream shattered the air, drawing the women’s focus to the parapet. From the corner of his vision he saw what had ripped horrified gasps from their lips: the blonde boy had fallen. Violet’s friend was yelling as her hands flew to her mouth, but Xaden’s attention was intent upon the flush of Sorrengail’s paling cheeks and the twist of those dainty fingers.

She was so lovely, even in that moment. The flecks of color shimmered in those wide eyes, her devastation only highlighting her beauty in the midst of hell. Someone so bright and clever and hopeful didn’t belong in the Riders Quadrant. It would destroy the light that warmed him, even then.

It was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

But Xaden channeled the wrongness into something he could use. He let it fan the flame of ire within him as Violet Sorrengail turned back to face him. All she would see would be a scowl, cold and calculated, with a glimmer of devious knowing.

“Why would I waste my energy killing you when the Parapet will do it for me?” He forced his lips to curl into a wicked, cruel smile. “Your turn.”

He could only pray to see her on the other side.

~~~

“Riorson? What are you—“

“We have a big fucking problem.” Xaden shouldered past Brennan Sorrengail into the dim amber light of the tiny room. His quarters were small, even by the standards of Basgiath.

But what did a dead man need with a large bedroom?

“We must, if you’ve flown here mere hours after the crossing.” Brennan’s grin was mischievous as he made his way to his desk chair. The marked man paced the length of the floor, likely wearing a valley into the smooth stone.

The eldest Sorrengail was the opposite of Xaden Riorson in so many ways. Where Xaden was serious and intense, Brennan was carefree, always wearing an easy smirk that was reflected in the playful glint in his hazel eyes. Somehow, in spite of everything — his mother’s deception, his father’s death, the need to live in secrecy away from everything he’d ever known, including the two sisters he adored — the demons never seemed to creep into his gaze. Brennan was happy to be where he was: skilled in combat and poised to make a difference in the world.

But… this news might crush him.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he took a breath that burned his lungs with dread.

“Violet crossed the Parapet today.”

Xaden’s expression must have been grave, because Brennan’s face fell and his eyes widened.

“W-what?”

“I stood face-to-face with your sister before she stepped out onto the Parapet. She was wearing a rider’s leathers — I’m assuming from your other sister.” Xaden ran ringers through his tousled hair in the silence that swallowed the two young men. Everything felt tilted and wrong, as if the world was shifting beneath them and they had no power to stop it.

The oppressive quiet stretched between them for what felt like hours.

“It can’t be. That doesn’t make any sense.” And there it was, the darkness that Xaden rarely saw in his comrade. The shadows darkened his eyes as his brows furrowed, trying to understand. “She’s been studying to be a scribe since she was a child. She would never have dreamed of riding dragons. She’s not… built for that.”

“I know. I don’t understand it, either. Based on everything you’ve told me, there was no reason for her to be there,” Xaden answered, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His focus remained upon his friend, whose expression morphed from confusion to concern… to a cold fury the marked man had never seen on the handsome face.

“It has to be my mother’s doing. There’s no other explanation.” Brennan looked up at him, eyes glinting like shards of ice. “Violet is smarter than Mira and me put together. If she became a scribe, she would find out everything that our father suspected and then some.”

The implication was staggering. Infuriating. Xaden scratched at the stubble dotting his chin. “By forcing Violet into the Riders Quadrant, with almost zero preparation, she’s condemning her to almost certain death.” How could a mother do that to her child? How could anyone want to extinguish the fire of that clever, beautiful woman? It made his gut churn as his teeth clenched.

The next moment, Brennan was upon him, his hands gripping his shoulders like a vice. “Xaden,” he murmured, wide-eyed gaze wild with desperation. “You have to protect her, Xaden. Please. Promise me you’ll take care of her. Promise me she won’t die there.”

The crack in his friend’s voice might as well have broken him, as well. This was all so wrong. So terribly complicated. Of course, Xaden had been contemplating how to keep Violet safe the moment he met her at the Parapet. But how was he supposed to protect her if she hated him? If he was supposed to hate her? Nobody could know that he’d been enamored with her, simply from the stories her brother would weave about her.

Nobody could know that the real thing was even sweeter and brighter and more exquisite than he could have ever imagined.

“Promise me, Xaden. Promise me I’ll see my sister again.”

The marked man lifted his hands and placed them on Brennan’s shoulders, comforting him with his strong hold as he nodded once.

“I swear it, Brennan,” he rasped. “On my life.”

61 notes · View notes

thesugarclubs-blog · 10 months

Text

Love In The Dark - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: fantasy au, prince james "bucky" barnes, he hates everyone but her, he falls first, OC works in his palace, rude comments to staff, smut, 18+

word count: 8k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1358436681-love-in-the-dark-davina

Masterlist

“Follow,” the old maid demanded of Davina who scurried behind her in old flats that barely comforted her from the cobblestone beneath. “Do not fall behind on your chores, do you understand girl? Speak!” She barked before Davina could find her voice. “You won’t last a week,” the old woman pushed her through a small wooden door into a massive brick-and-mortar kitchen.

“You’ll work here for the time being,” she looked over at Davina with disgust, and for good reason. Her blonde hair seemed ashen, laced with dirt and plaited back and tied with whatever string she could find. Her skirts were drafty and her blouse was ill-fitting but she was clothed and ready to work for the coin.

“You do not address the king, you do not leave the kitchen unless instructed by my hand,” the maid warned, “and for your own sake do not make yourself known to the Prince. He has a temper.”

“A temper?” Was Davina’s only question when she finally spoke.

“I will speak no further on the matter, heed my warning and mind yourself,” she rumbled up her skirts in her withered old hands and scurried like a mouse from the humid kitchen.

The blonde sucked in a deep breath as she watched the older maid rush up the stone stairs and disappear through a door. From behind her, she could hear the bustling kitchen, the smell of onions and game cooking wafted around. Davina's nerves settled in her stomach and as she spun around to get to work, she jumped backward, startled.

"Watch it!" One of the cooks shouted as they moved around her to slide a hot pan onto the plating surface.

"Sorry," Davina mumbled, waiting for another second before stepping into the scene.

"You, new girl, get those plates in the warmer! The king will have our heads if dinner’s cold," The woman barked, moving around to continue chopping.

She nodded sharply, taking the heavy stack of ceramic plates in her arms and heading to the warmer. Davina kneeled slowly in front of it, focusing her mind on settling her quick breaths as she placed the plates on the cold floor beside her.

The last thing she wanted to do was drop something on her first day, it would certainly make it her last and she couldn’t take that risk.

She opened the warmer door and placed the plates carefully inside it. When she closed it, she let her hand fall to the ornate iron legs on which it stood, admiring the work and detail put into the paws.

She had an affinity for the small wonders of the world. The details that no one took to notice or care for. Someone had hand-crafted the legs of the massive warmer with feathered swirls and filigree.

“Keep moving,” she was ordered by another voice. It didn’t take long until the sweat was pouring down her neck between her breast and shoulder blades.

“Run this out to the dining room,” a gruff-looking male servant shoved a pitcher of wine into her sore arms.

“But—” she tried to protest and explain that she wasn’t to leave the kitchen but before she could. The man had disappeared back to work near the hot stove.

Davina furrowed her brows and stared between the pitcher of wine and the stone staircase that led up to the main house. She was meant to be a kitchen servant, helping the cook and washing dishes, not seen by any one of the upstairs maids or especially not the royal family. But at this moment, there was no one she could protest that to and in the mere moments she'd been in the palace, it was evident that the family hated waiting for things.

With a sharp inhale, she balanced the pitcher in both her hands to ensure it didn't spill and made her way up the staircase. Surely someone up there could help her find the dining room, even if she just had to follow one of the other staff members.

"Okay Davina, you can do this, just keep your head down and look like you've been here forever," she muttered to herself, taking each step slowly and carefully.

The moment she entered the stretch of hallway from the servant's staircase, she felt like she was in a completely different building. Rough stone and creaking wood became intricate designs painted on smooth walls and richly colored woolen carpets on polished floors. Flickering flames lined the hall, and as she followed them down they led to two large wooden doors.

“That must be it,” she murmured to herself as faint voices drifted from that same direction.

Davina straightened her back and made her way with quick quiet steps. She wanted to deliver the wine and get back where she belonged without trouble. But it seemed that was too good to be true.

“What are you doing out here?” The same old maid who had taken her to the kitchens appeared beside her, seemingly out of thin air. “You are to use the stairway that leads directly to the dining hall if you are serving, and I believe I gave you strict instructions not to leave the kitchens.”

“I—I didn’t… I,” Davina stammered, clutching the pitcher to her chest.

“Careful, foolish girl, you’ll crack the pitcher squeezing it like that!” The maid snapped, gripping Davina by the upper arm and spinning her to face the wall.

Davina’s confusion quickly abated as the old maid drew back one of the wall hangings to reveal a hidden door, which she opened and shoved Davina towards.

“Servants travel in the servants’ corridors. We don’t want the likes of you cluttering up the hallways,” she snapped, before stalking away.

Tutting her frustration and wondering why the old maid wasn’t using the servants’ corridors herself, Davina entered the dimly lit walkway and shut the door behind her. It ran parallel to the hallway she had walked down and not too far along was a nondescript wooden door that looked as if it should open into the same room as the large double doors she had spied before.

She steadied her nerve and entered the room, careful to keep it against the wall as she made her way to the long table holding the desserts and fruits until it was time to serve.

She had never been in such a room before. Ceilings so high she needed to crane her neck to see the ornate designs of the crystal chandelier that hung from the vaults. The room was draped in rich, dark green wallpaper that Davina could only assume was more expensive than anything she had ever touched.

“Wine,” a voice snapped from behind her and she was sucked back from her daydream to the loud room. Plush royals picked at their meals while a shrill violin played melancholy music in the corner. The violinist wore a tight smile that felt painful to look at.

“Are you daft?” The voice said again causing Davina to focus. A horribly skinny woman in a pleaded bright yellow gown barked at her. “Wine, now.” She tapped a long, feeble-looking finger against her crystal goblet.

Davina chewed on the inside of her cheek and nodded softly once. She knew she was way out of her depths here, but who was she to say no to one of the royal families? Pinning her shoulders back, she took careful steps towards the table, allowing her gaze to drift around the table as she did.

Taking an inventory of everyone who sat in front of her, she didn't want to be the person who messed up on the names of the royals. King James sat at the head of the table as usual, with Queen Winnifred at the other end. On either side sat another couple, the skinny woman and a man who she assumed was said woman's husband. Finally, there was a younger girl, a brunette in a violet dress, who was paying no attention whatsoever to the dinner but instead, had her gaze fixed on one of the servicemen that stood along the wall.

Her eyes drifted over and she was met with the piercing blue stare of Prince James "Bucky" Barnes, who rather than paying attention to the girl he was supposed to, had his eyes narrowed at Davina, watching her carefully as she moved around the table.

With a sharp intake of breath, Davina turned her head, trying to focus on her task. She could still feel Prince James’ eyes on her, and it took everything in her not to respond to the pull of his gaze.

The woman holding her goblet tutted, clicking her teeth as Davina hurried around to her seat.

“Where is your sense of urgency, girl? I’m parched here!”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Davina murmured, “it’s my first day.”

She regretted uttering the excuse the moment it left her lips as the woman scoffed and turned to Prince James.

“I take it you’ll be doing an overhaul of the servants once you’re king, James? It’ll be needed.”

The Prince made no comment that Davina could hear and she dared to look at him once more. She wished she hadn’t as she saw his full lips Prince twist in a snarl of derision and his jaw clenched tightly as he turned his attention away from her and focused on the younger girl next to him.

He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, his eyes flashing with devilry as the girl burst into peals of laughter.

“Show some decorum, Rebecca,” the Queen hissed, glaring at her child.

“Sorry Mother,” the Princess replied demurely, trying to rein in her smile.

The wine poured into the goblet carefully despite Davina's shaking hands and she was able to find her spot against the wall once again, cradling the pitcher like it might protect her from the ill intent and dirty stares of the family. Her attention still carefully and quietly focused on the Prince and Princess, who seemed to have their own quiet language that no one else paid much attention to.

She cracked a small smile as the Prince pushed around his food on his plate to resemble a messy, gravy-covered painting that could have been a pig but Davina wasn't sure until Rebecca began laughing again and the King turned beet red as the Prince cast a devilish smirk across the table.

"You two will be the ruin of this family," the king muttered beneath his labor breathing.

"James, please," The queen gritted her teeth, setting her fork down, "Do not start this again"

Davina cast her eyes down into the pitcher, attempting to tune out the conversation that she expected to transpire, afraid she would hear something that she wasn't supposed to. When working for families of higher positions, there was always topics you would overhear and information that was meant to be kept between family members. Most servants would just push it away or discuss it amongst themselves, but it was never on day one that conversations of this stature were witnessed.

"No father, please, continue," Prince James grinned dramatically, "I for one love hearing how Becca and I are going to ruin this realm,"

Davina swallowed hard. It was the first time she actually heard the prince speak. His voice was deep but melodic. Playful.

She stayed in place as the family began to bicker. “James, don’t start,” the queen warned once more. “I do not want more china broken.”

The temper thing seemed true then, Davina thought as her gaze flitted to the prince. She lingered on his jaw, stubbled and tight as it clenched, and then dragged it upward to stormy eyes.

Stormy eyes landed on her, and Prince James furrowed his brow curiously. Davina couldn’t look away this time, transfixed on the way he was staring her down, his dark face framed by long hair.

She swallowed thickly, having to force herself to stop the inappropriate staring when James grunted and scraped his chair back from the table.

“I’m no longer hungry,” he stated, before turning to his younger sister, his voice suddenly a little softer as he continued, “I’ll be in the library, little butterfly if you wish to lose at chess again.”

“I only lose because you cheat, Bucky!” Princess Rebecca called after him as he left the table, much to the clear chagrin of their parents.

Davina could feel the air in the room grow tense as dinner came to a close and the family scattered among the castle walls. Davina finished what chores she had and walked home in the darkness. As the weeks turned to a month Davina settled into her responsibilities but her curiosity for the Prince never faded.

Smoothing down her dress, Davina made her way once more through the stone hallways of the palace. It was a warm summer's day, and she was thankful to be in the wing of the palace that had open hallways into the gardens.

As she walked, soft grunts echoed through the air and when the sight of Prince James came into her view, she stopped in her tracks. He was training outside today, moving swiftly as if he were dancing around his sparing instructor. Beads of sweat dripped down his throat to his chest, and his tanned skin glimmered under the sunlight, making the ocean blue of his eyes stand out that much more.

James parried a blow, blocking an incoming attack from the side, then swung his sword as he swiftly moved his feet in the opposite direction.

He was… beautiful. Davina hid in the shadows, hoping no one could see her as she watched every move the prince made.

He’s brilliant.

She could almost see the calculations he was making in his head, eyes moving fast as he accurately predicted his opponent’s next moves.

Lifting his sword, his muscles tensed as he snarled and brought it down with a mighty clash, metal to metal. Davina’s stomach swooped at the pure strength behind James’ movements, he was sculpted like the statues of the castle, a work of art.

Lost to her reverie, she was spooked by the clearing of a throat behind her.

“You’re not the first maid to stare at my brother and you certainly won’t be the last, not that I understand the reasons why,” the young Princess announced imperiously with a look of thinly veiled disgust.

“Your Highness…” Davina dropped a curtsey and bowed her head. “I wasn’t…I mean, I’m not…”

“If you say so,” Princess Rebecca smirked cheekily, her arms folded across her chest.

Davina stared at her feet, not wanting to admit that maybe she had been admiring the Prince. Even if the Princess was younger than her she was still a member of the royal family. Oh god, she was going to get in trouble for this, wasn't she?

"Ugh, ew!" Davina glanced up, only to see the Princess' nose wrinkled in disgust as she looked her over. "Don't servants bathe? You stink!"

The younger girl whirled around without another word, striding away with the imperious air that was typical of her station, leaving Davina feeling hurt and embarrassed. It wasn't her fault that she had no private place to bath where she lived.

"You kind of do," the Prince's low voice came from behind her, making her jump.

The hair on the back of Davina's neck stood on end as she slowly turned on her heel to face the Prince. Despite the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks she curtsied muttering a soft "Your Highness" before standing straight, taking a step back from his large frame.

Ocean blue eyes narrowed at her for a moment, "My sister, as brash as she is, is right. You need a bath." His words sent a burning sensation behind her eyes as she tried to hold back the tears from feeling the humiliation climbing through her veins.

"Yes sir," She said softly ignoring the shakiness in her voice.

He studied her once more before glancing behind him into the courtyard then up and down the hallways. Her eyes followed his own, finding themselves completely alone. Silence drifted between them before he glanced back at her, his eyes roaming her features as he took a step towards her and lifted his hand. Every muscle in her body tensed as the Prince's thumb brushed over her cheekbone wiping away at the smudge of dirt she had seen this morning but forgot to wipe away herself and watched as the blue in his eyes disappeared with something other than disgust.

Davina's breath shuddered while his hand lingered on her skin almost burning her with curiosity and a feeling in her belly that she should not be having for the Prince.

"There's a bath house for the servants on the edge of the grounds," He said, his voice huskier than before, "Use it. If you are told not to by any of the other maidens, you direct them to me."

Just as quickly as his fingers had found her skin, they were gone. His gaze lingered on her for a moment more before he turned and moved down the corridor, letting Davina force the breath she was holding out through her mouth.

She sighed to herself before going about the rest of her chores for the day in silence. When dusk came, she found the bathhouse that the Prince spoke of. It felt nice to be able to soak in the flowing water and to use the bath oils and hard goat's soap that she found.

Clean and dressed in a new hand-me-down shirt and skirt from an older maid, Davina took her small dinner in the servant's quarters before beginning her evening duties.

The breakfast for tomorrow morning needed preparing, bread dough to be proved and fruits to be soaked in syrup.

The small wooden clock on the mantle told her she was running behind and she hurried to the kitchens, blonde hair flying behind her as she fumbled to tie it back with ribbon. In her haste, she skipped the servant staircase, the castle was quiet and she doubted there would be anyone around to berate her now.

Past the great hall, left at the garden room and— oof

The library door swung open and she collided, hard and fast with the broad body of the prince, clad in soft cotton undergarments.

“Oh…oh my…I’m…your Highness!” Davina stammered, dropping into the lowest curtsey she could manage.

Her face blazed with embarrassment as she remained frozen, her head bowed as her hair slowly slid back out of the poorly-tied ribbon and pooled like satin around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I think perhaps I share some of the blame here,” the Prince rumbled. “Are you hurt?”

Davina looked up, surprised to hear what almost sounded like kindness coming from the usually closed-off Prince.

"Oh, ah, yes, I'm fine, your majesty," She curtsied again, her cheeks hot, "I should have taken the servant's hall, I am so sorry. It won't happen again."

"It's fine, there's no one else around," He murmured. She looked up, hesitating to meet his gaze. He was studying her intently, though what his thoughts may have been she couldn't tell, "You used the bathhouse, I take it?"

"Yes, thank you, sir."

"Hmm," For the second time that day, he reached out, but this time his fingers trailed the collar of her shirt. She struggled not to make a sound when he touched her neck, just barely before his hand dropped away completely.

"What was your name again?" He asked.

"Davina, your royal highness."

She watched as his tongue jutted out over his bottom lip. His plump pink lips glistened under the low light coming from the library after the action causing her breath to hitch in her throat.

“Please,” his voice low and raspy, “just Bucky. I detest the formalities.”

Davina felt the heat creeping slowly up her neck, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Just between us,” he stated, tilting his head down slightly, a stray curl falling across his forehead as his eyes searched hers.

Her fingers itched with the urge to push the curl from his face. Realizing he had gone quiet, her eyes peeled from the soft tendril down to his blue eyes. "Of course...Bucky."

The name felt foreign to her lips, almost forbidden, and sparked something in her belly as he shifted in his boots, the corner of his mouth quirked up as he watched her.

"Do I make you nervous, Davina?" He asked in a hushed gravely tone that sent goosebumps up her skin despite the corridor being warm and humid from the night air. Bucky took a step towards her, closing the little distance between them.

Suddenly her throat felt very dry as if every ounce of air had been sucked out of her lungs, "N-no, of course not, I've just -" Davina cleared her throat and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, "I've heard stories," she admitted, finding herself unable to take her blue eyes off of his.

"Stories..." Bucky repeated, a small glimmer of a smirk appeared on his lips and his head tilted to the side as he watched her, "You've not worked here long, have you?"

"Nearly a month," She answered, still trying to hide the small shake in her voice as she took a step backward.

The prince hummed, nodding once and following her backward step with a move forward, staying close to her as his eyes traced her features. Davina was gearing up to hear cruel words drip from his lips as he bashed her for her stupidity. Despite being allowed to call him by his nickname, there was no way she could have prepared for his next words.

"I knew I couldn't be so blind as to miss someone so beautiful working in my palace," He rasped, reaching out to brush a stray piece of blonde hair off her shoulder.

Davina furrowed her brows and took in a sharp breath, "You... you think I'm beautiful?"

“Enchanting, really,” Bucky murmured softly, twisting a strand of her hair around his fingers.

Davina’s breath hitched, her gaze leaving his momentarily to trail the length of his body.

“Forgive me, Davina. I am in battle garments so often, I like to dress down most evenings. I usually stay in my rooms and don’t expect to bump into anyone.”

He peered at her through his dark lashes, blue eyes glistening as his cheeks flushed a soft pink. To see the Prince blush was a surprise.

“It was unexpected, I admit,” she replied, lightness in her voice.

His mouth opened and then closed, as if he wanted to say something but then decided against it. He tried again,

“Do you…read?” He asked, gesturing with his head towards the doorway he’d appeared through.

The tone of his question sparked something in Davina and she felt indignance rise within her.

“Do I read?” She blustered. “Why? Do you think one in a lowly station such as I am not educated? Because I am new here? Because that wretched old chief maid worked me so hard I hadn’t even had time to bathe?!”

Davina’s hands landed on her hips, her eyes blazing.

“Of course, I can read you arrogant ass!”

For a moment the Prince looked taken aback, instead of Davina being the one who was flustered, it was him floundering.

"I didn't mean - " he stopped abruptly and then laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges while his nose wrinkled up with the smile. "Forgive me, Davina, I didn't mean to imply you had no education. I meant, rather, to ask if you wanted to see the library?"

Who was this man and what had he done with Prince James?!

A shuffling at the end of the hallway startled them both before Davina could form a response. Headed straight for them was the very same wretched old maid she'd mentioned a moment earlier.

"Shit," she cursed quietly, before remembering who she was with. Her hand flew to her mouth, hoping neither the prince nor the maid had heard her.

Before she could think of a reasonable explanation to be caught with the Prince in a dark corridor, his hand grasped her waist as he shuffled to the side.

Davina was stunned- mostly from fear, but partially from the firm grasp he held through the thick fabric of her skirts. He had placed his body between hers and the old maid, who was just a few feet away from them now. Her heart lept to her throat.

“My lord, please forgive the new girl, she’s not right in the head-“ Bucky stepped forward just as the old maid approached with an outstretched hand, poised to slap Davina.

“How dare you speak about my staff in such a manner?” He practically hissed at her. The old maid shrunk at his sharp tone, her hand returning to her waist to smooth her apron.

“Your grace, I’m sorry,” she curtsied. Davina could see the old maid shaking as she averted her eyes. A part of her felt sympathy for a split second - this was another human, after all. And they both were only in this hallway because they served the man standing between them, and his entire royal bloodline.

She wanted to take comfort in the fact that Bucky seemed to be protecting her, but she also couldn’t ignore the fact that he was royalty and she was a mere handmaid.

“I’ll make sure she is punished and-“

Bucky cut the old maid off again. “You will do no such thing, wench,” he spat at her. She shrunk even closer to the floor as Davina started to actually revel in the verbal lashing he was delivering.

They may both be servants, but this woman was unnecessarily wretched.

"Return to your duties, Miss Davina serves me and only me from this night forward." Bucky turned his nose up with his words. His hand squeezed her side when she tensed next to him.

The old maid stood straight once more, her eyes bulging from her skull, "Your Highness, that's not--"

Davina froze once again, her gaze daringly flickered between the two of them just long enough to catch his brow raise and the slight tilt of his head.

"I will not repeat myself again." His words were harsh and firm with warning. The old maid bowed her head once before turning on her heel and away from them.

She felt herself let out a breath before stumbling out of his grasp, "You didn't need to do that." Davina hissed gently, "I shouldn't have been here."

Bucky turned back towards her, his fists clenching at his sides and a hard look plastered over his face. "That old maid has been bitter since I was a child and she abuses what little reign she has on the rest of the servants and clearly more-so you, so yes Davina, I did." She stared up at him, not believing the words she was hearing as his face softened and he reached for the large bronze handle of the Library door, "I'd like to get to know the maiden who will be mine from now on unless you'd like to return to the servants quarters."

The butterflies in her chest exploded and she wasn't sure if his words had a second meaning or not, but the corners of his mouth quirked up again softly creasing the corners of his eyes and showing her a different side of the rumored mean prince.

Davina cleared her throat and rubbed the back of her neck. She could still feel his hand at her waist. "If... If you want to show me the library, I wouldn't be opposed, sir."

There were rooms in the castle where servants weren’t permitted to enter unless working directly with a member of the family or under extraordinary circumstances. Sleeping quarters, private offices, and, Davina had been disappointed to learn, the library.

So given the opportunity now, as Bucky tucked her hand snuggly into the crook of his elbow, she was giddy to see the large collection of books she’d heard talk of.

“Oh, this is glorious!” She beamed as Bucky guided her into the room, letting her go to close the heavy doors behind them with a loud thunk.

Davina’s heart thundered against her rib cage as she turned to see Bucky watching her take it in, his expression soft. She was truly alone with the prince now, and he was looking at her like she was some creature from heaven.

“It is quite. I always felt there was something missing though, with the room.” He paused and took a large stride towards her, absentmindedly fixing an upturned frill on the shoulder of her shirt. “But I think I just found it.”

Her breath hitched slightly at his closeness, her senses becoming overwhelmed by the new environment. The light in the library was dim, with oil lamps turned down low and the fire in the grate almost at embers. The smell of woodsmoke, leather, and old paper permeated the air, combined with a scent that was so distinctly…royal.

“No one really takes care of them anymore,” he murmured, stepping up behind her. “They keep it clean and tidy but the books are so…neglected.”

“I’d look after them,” Davina breathed. “I’d organize them and make sure they were treated properly, the books,” she clarified.

“I thought you might,” Bucky hummed, his fingers moving from her shoulder to rest against the side of her neck, his thumb tracing small circles against her shoulder blade.

Davina was practically dizzy at the slightest sign of affection from this man. She so desperately wanted to arch her back into him but she couldn’t possibly be so forward, not after he offered her such a generous opportunity.

Gratitude bloomed in her chest as she realized the gravity of what happened here. She suddenly spun around to face him. Bucky’s eyes widened in shock as she stared up at him through her lashes. His hands fell to his sides, but she reached forward and grasped them with her own.

“Your grace, thank you so much for what you did back there. Thank you for- this library is-“

She was overwhelmed by the kindness the Prince was showing her. This was the most human she had felt in a month. Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed, willing them to dry up and save her a lifetime of embarrassment.

Just as a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, Bucky reached up and wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. She choked down a sob as he grasped her chin and pointed her gaze toward him. He towered above her.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” He was being so gentle with her, but his tone was firm. She didn’t feel the need to question further.

He gathered her hands against his chest and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She felt comfortable for the first time since she came to be part of the royal service.

“I meant it when I said you were mine now, you know.”

She brought her lip between her bottom lip, her eyes glued to his as the rest of her body melted into the warmth of his own. Though the doubts about their statuses still lingered in the back of her mind.

"I'm just a maiden..." Davina whispered, "And you...are a-"

She gasped as his lips slotted over her own, silencing her. His hand slid from her lower back up to the nape of her neck, holding her firmly against him as a whimper left her lips. Bucky pulled back gently, just far enough that she could see his eyes as she breathlessly finished her thought, "Prince."

"Tell me, Davina," he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. "Have I ever given you the impression that I am concerned with stations?"

She swallowed tightly, still dizzy from the kiss but Bucky's hands wrapped around her neck tighter keeping her eyes on him as she collected her thoughts. His rings felt cool against her flushed skin.

"Certainly not," she huffed, finally able to catch her breath, "but I may need more convincing your majesty."

James grinned down at Davina, his eyes dark in the dimly lit room. "Oh really? What could I possibly do to convince you, my Davina? " He slowly began backing them up towards a bench against the far wall, out of sight. "Another kiss? Or would my beautiful maiden want something... more?"

The word was a hushed, low rumble against her ear and Davina swore her heart was pounding so hard, Bucky could surely hear it. She drew back with a raised eyebrow as she tried to steel her nerves.

“Surely you have more decorum than to take a maid in the library, your majesty?”

Bucky laughed, rich and echoing in the vast room.

“Oh, my sweet Davina. We have much to learn about each other, but you know I possess little decorum. Especially around a maiden as intoxicating as you.”

He dipped his head then, brushing the cool tip of his nose up the line of her neck and pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Davina gasped as Bucky suckled lightly at her skin.

“Then I want more,” she breathed.

“Perfect,” he murmured against her skin, trailing his lips across her jaw and back to her mouth.

Davina flushed at the soft whine that escaped her throat, but it only served to spur the Prince onwards. Bringing his hands up to cradle her face he kissed her once more, capturing her top lip with his before deepening their contact and pulling her flush against him.

The heat radiating from his body made her overly conscious of his state of undress, clad as he was in only the soft cotton chemise and shorts he must sleep in.

"M-my lord," she gasped when his lips trailed across her cheek and he nipped her earlobe.

"Mmm, Davina," The prince growled, "I told you to call me Bucky."

They sank to the bench, Bucky caging her below him, but he paused, his eyes searching hers instead of continuing his affections. "Are you sure you want this?"

Davina blinked rapidly, "What?"

"Do you want this? Me?" He asked, before clarifying the question further, "I'm not interested in forcing this on you, no matter what my reputation may suggest otherwise."

She nodded her head, staring into his eyes. The blue of his eyes was only slightly visible, his pupils overtaken with lust.

“Words, Davina,” he chided lightly. She craned her neck to reach his lips but he pulled away slightly. She could still feel his breath against her skin.

“Please,” she breathed. “I want you.” She desperately needed to close the gap between them.

Bucky chuckled slightly as he started suckling her jawline. She moaned and arched her back up from the hardwood of the bench.

“Let me make you mine, little dove.”

"You already did," gasped as his fingers trailed along her side, tugging at the soft cotton until she felt the tips of them on her skin.

He smiled against her skin, moving from her jaw to the column of her neck, to the soft spot between her collarbone and neck, "but to hear you say it," Bucky rasped lifting his head as his hand palmed her breast, "is far more pleasing."

He rolled her nipple through his forefinger and thumb, the coolness from his rings sending jolts straight to her nerves as the fire began to burn in her belly. Davina smiled, combing her fingers through his long hair, pushing back the waves from his eyes, "Then please, make me yours."

Bucky's fingers made quick work of the laces at her breasts before shucking the camisole from her body and leaving her on display. Davina leaned against the bench on her elbows, propping herself up as Bucky sat back, lifting his own tunic from his torso.

Davina looked around, tempted to cover herself in fear of being caught in such a public space but the prince caught her hands before she could do so, clicking his teeth together in a disapproving sound. "I want to see you," he whispered in a tone that sent a spark coursing through her body to her toes. "All of you," his fingers tangled into the hem of her skirt, and tickled a line across her stomach. "May I?"

"Please Bucky," Davina whined, her hips instinctively bucking softly towards him.

Bending down, he placed light kisses down her torso as his fingers tugged her skirt and undergarments down her legs. Sitting back up, he haphazardly threw her bottoms into the dark of the library and grasped her calf in his hand, running his lips over the skin of her ankle and up her leg.

"Gods you're gorgeous," he rasped, peering down at her with a wicked smirk on his lips.

She whimpered softly, surprised that she'd even made the sound. The look on his face made her melt against the wood of the bench she rested against. He wanted her. Her.

Davina reached out with one hand, wanting to be able to touch any part of him that she could reach. "Bucky..."

Slowly, torturing her with each kiss that he pressed against her calf, Bucky moved up her leg. Each time his lips met her skin she whimpered, the heat building in her the closer he got to her hips.

"Is this okay?" He asked. He hadn't taken his eyes from hers, and she could see the fire burning in their depths. Despite experiencing this firsthand, Davina was still having trouble believing that a Prince was interested in a simple maid like herself.

"Yes?" She said, not entirely certain what he meant.

He smirked, pressing another kiss against the tuft of hair between her legs, fingers tickling along the soft skin of her thighs, "One of my greatest pleasures, Davina," He rasped, "Is feasting on the sweet nectar that comes from here."

His fingers pushed between her folds, making her gasp, and then dragged them up, circling her sensitive nib once before he pulled them away. Davina whined at the loss while he popped the soaked digits into his mouth. Bucky groaned deeply, "Fuck, you taste heavenly. Let me have more?"

“Gods yes,” She breathed, her heart hammering against her chest as his eyes bore into hers. Lust and adoration swirled into one, taking over his sea of blue.

“Please, Bucky”

His plump lips curled into a soft smirk at the sound of her pleas only fueling the fire inside of her.

“As you wish, my sweet.”

His sentence was a whisper against her center, just barely finished before he licked a stripe through her wet folds. Davina’s head fell back at the contact, a moan slipping from her lips as he circled her throbbing nub with the tip of his tongue. His fingers dug into the supple skin of her thighs as she bucked her hips into his lips.

His fingers slipped gently between her folds. He continued circling her clit with his tongue- it felt like he was spelling out a prayer with his tongue, treating her body with the utmost reverence.

Davina couldn’t stop her hips from lifting up from the bench. The coil in her belly wound tighter and tighter- “More,” she choked out.

He sped up his prayer, moaning into her cunt. In a haze, she took his hand from her thigh and placed his hand at the column of her throat. He pulled away from her with a whine, his fingers still lingering at her entrance.

Bucky’s eyes widened before he carefully placed his fingers around her neck. He applied no pressure to her throat, just resting his hands against her as he gazed up at her from between her legs.

“Do you still want more?”

Davina nodded, head spinning as she almost immediately felt slight pressure from his grasp on her throat. She wasn’t going to last much longer, especially as the cool of his rings soothed her burning skin.

He ducked his head back down and lapped at her clit while driving two fingers deep inside her. He didn't apply any more pressure at her throat, just enough so her cry was muffled as the coil inside her snapped. Waves of ecstasy crashed down upon her. Her hips bucked against him as he moaned against her, the lower half of his face slick with her arousal.

Davina's body shuddered through the pleasure, her lids heavy as she peered down at Bucky who was nipping at her inner thighs. His freehand had disappeared between them and she could make out the faint gesture of him stroking his length as he lifted his lips from her.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted Dove," his voice was raspy and dark as he moved the hand around her throat to cup the side of her neck and moved to hover over her, "Where has this cruel world been hiding you?" Bucky muttered rolling his hips gently against her own as he settled his weight on her. The pressure ceased the gentle vibration of her body as her fingertips dug into the muscles of his shoulders.

She knew the question was rhetorical but she couldn't help the words as they fell from her lips, "in your family's shadow."

His brows furrowed for a moment before his lips pressed to hers, "You're filled with too much light to be kept in the shadows my darling."

That familiar burning sensation behind her eyes returned as he slid his knee between her thighs, nudging them apart gently as he peppered her face and neck with slow soft kisses, "Bucky," she whined in a whisper until she felt the head of his cock nudge at her entrance and a small gasp left her.

He lifted his head again, tangling his fingers into her hair, "Be my light Davina, please."

Davina's blue eyes searched Bucky's in the dim light of the library, almost waiting for herself to wake up from this perfect dream. Of all the people she thought would fall for her, a prince was never in her mind. The soft touch of Bucky's lips against her skin made her mind spin in the best way possible.

"I'm yours, Bucky," she whispered into the darkness, "I'm all yours,"

Bucky took in a sharp breath as he moved to capture her lips with his own as he pushed himself inside her, swallowing her moan. As he bottomed out, his hips stilled, feeling Davina wince, and clench around him. His lips shifted to pepper her cheeks with soft, wet kisses, trailing his hand down her body, and finding its home on her hip.

He pulled back just enough to catch her gaze, with a furrowed brow as he searched her face, "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Davina nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers into the small curls at the base of his neck, "I'm okay, I promise. You can move, Bucky,"

With another breath and a soft kiss to her lips, Bucky pulled out of her and pushed back in slowly, taking his time to relish in every inch of her body as his blue eyes locked with hers in the warm dim light of the candles.

He watched as Davina's back arched in a beautiful bowing motion, making him smile. "Gods, you are so beautiful." Bucky lowered his head to kiss between her breasts as he slowly thrust repeatedly into her body, listening to her soft whines and moans.

Davina gripped onto the hair at the back of his head, already feeling the coil in her body slowly beginning to tighten again. "Bucky... please... faster please."

Bucky pulled back slightly, thrusting back into her with force, filling her to the brim. His hips began moving faster, hip bones digging into hers surely leaving bruises in their wake.

The feel of his length inside of her coupled with his warm breath against her skin and praises sent Davina into a frenzy. Electricity shot through her nerves and she pressed her lips to his shoulder trying to conceal her moans.

"Let go for me Davina," He groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried his face into her neck, "I have you."

His words sent her over that edge, clawing at his back as she sank her teeth into the skin on his shoulder not hard but to keep herself from screaming his name in the expanse of the library. Her body tightened, the rubberband in her stomach snapped and her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him to her.

"Bucky please," she begged him as his movements became erratic, his breath somehow hotter against her skin. He lifted his head, and a small ring of blue around his pupils glowed in the dim light before his lips crashed against her own, swallowing their groans with his release and sending her over the cliff with him once more.

As Bucky's hips stilled, the two of them collapsed onto the wooden bench beneath them. The coolness of the wood on Davina's back was a contrast to her hot sticky skin. She took comfort, nuzzling herself into Bucky's arms, his touch becoming light and gentle as he pressed soft kisses into her messy blonde waves.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" He rasped, trailing his fingers down Davina's arm and entangling their fingers together before bringing her hand up to his lips.

Davina hummed and let out a deep breath, smiling softly up at the prince as she met his eyes, "I'm perfect," she whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I hope you know I meant every word," Bucky stated, keeping his blue eyes locked with hers, "Everything I said to you, it wasn't just to get you into my bed. I meant it, Davina."

Her bottom lip found a home between her teeth as she took in his words. The thought had crossed her mind, that he was just being sweet to her for this but there was something about the way he looked at her, the way his touch felt against her skin that pushed that thought away.

"I believe you, Bucky," she answered finally, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Bucky sighed deeply, moving his gaze down to their hands as he played with her fingers, the soft hint of his real smile danced at the corners of his lips, "I didn't want this life," he finally said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "The kingdom, the responsibility, becoming my father... It's not me. And yet, despite my best efforts, the rumors around the palace of my temper is just history repeating itself," his blue eyes moved back to meet Davina's, looking down at her through tired eyes, "But the past few weeks, having you around, everything felt different. The air in the palace was suddenly clear and every room I saw you in was someone brighter, but I could never find the opportunity to approach you. That old hag or someone from my family was always lurking about..."

"I'm here now, your majesty," Davina teased, bringing a soft laugh from his lips.

"Yes you are, my beautiful light in all of this darkness," Bucky leaned down and captured her lips with his.

Davina pulled back, resting their foreheads together, she brushed the tips of their noses together lightly, "Always," she whispered.

74 notes · View notes

bookish-karina · 4 days

Text

thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag! I did this once for Maeve, so I'll do it for Jace this time :)

Rules: make a 24 hour poll with two truths and a lie about an OC.

Other Two Truths and a Lie: Maeve

I'll tag @its-a-writer-thing @urfriendlywriter @zmwrites and an open tag if you want to join!

#writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #writeblr #two truths and a lie #ocs #oc development #rockstar trope #slow burn #he falls first #ask game

7 notes · View notes

battyaboutbooksreviews · 20 days

Text

What gets you to rise and shine?

#book lovers #book blog #booklr #book meme #bookish #enemies to lovers #sapphic books #sapphic romance #he falls first #romance books #romantic fantasy #fantasy books #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

5 notes · View notes

bookboredbird · 4 months

Text

The C*ck Down The Block - Amy Award

★★★★☆

Tropes - miscommunication, best friends to lovers, fake dating, football romance, slow burn, he falls first

---

This book was sooo good even with a slow start. Between the curvy FMC and her chickens, that alone is enough to qualify for four stars. The humor throughout the story is amazing as well, with side characters you'll love, a football family full of himbos, and an ex-p*rnstar-mother who sends our FMC exotic *toys*, you really cannot go wrong.

As much as I dislike football as a sport and don't really follow it, it is not a primary point in the story besides the MMC's family who all play for the same team, and mentions of the upcoming season. If you're looking for a sports-heavy story this is not for you, it focuses more on the love story and the FMC's upcoming high school reunion.

The split POV is just a chef's kiss since it shows the growing feelings from our main gal and the resurfacing or intensifying feelings from our main guy. It also shows their more scandalous feelings for each other, especially from the MMC.

The only thing I truly disliked was the weird paparazzi appearances throughout the story. As well as the whole standing-up-to-the-mean-girl speech toward the end(it felt very cringey and made me want to hide my face). WHILE valid points were made, it just felt so Netflix/Wattpad. Apart from the occasional cringe-worthy moment and the strange focus on her once porn making mom, the book was great!

---

SPICE!!

praise kink, exhibitionism, restraints, mentioned phone sex. Not the best but still pretty good.

#amy award #book review #bookstagram #booklr #book rating #books #bookblr #books and reading #reading #romance #bestfriends to lovers #slow burn #he falls first #fake dating #football #football lover

8 notes · View notes

averyeastonwrites · 6 months

Text

“Wonderfully fanciful, deliciously sexy…” “...fall in love HARD with two real, sexy, and dorky people whose romance will give you chills!”“...wistful, passionate, and even triumphant.”“...a delight!”

The Hearts of Broadway series is available here!

Enter a glittering world where everyone has a song in their heart. Each book in the Hearts of Broadway series follows a Broadway star on the journey of falling in love. And when these artists fall, they fall hard.

A national tour, a brand-new musical, a co-star who makes life miserable, and one too many rejections: navigating a challenging career is already a complicated dance. So when they meet the people who tug on their heartstrings, managing the choreography of their lives gets more difficult... and exciting.

Showtune references abound and each book comes with it’s own playlist, which you can find on your favorite streaming app. Read together or stand-alone, the characters in the Hearts of Broadway series will sweep you off your feet.

#broadway #romance novel #musical theatre #hamilton #musicals #romance books #in the heights #queer books #books #second chance romance #showmance #enemies to lovers #he falls first #broadway books #mm romance #sapphic romance #insta love

7 notes · View notes

stuckyrogersbarnes · 5 days

Text

guys 🤭 i’ve started writing an original romance on wattpad

GO CHECK IT OUT ITS ENEMIES TO LOVERS ⚠️ SHOW SOME LOVE

♥️♥️♥️♥️

link for wattpad on my page

(my username for wattpad is @ alacrityyyyy)

3 notes · View notes

lexxwithbooks · 1 year

Text

📖: 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 📚👣🦈

✍🏽: 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲

Get the book! 🌟

174 notes · View notes

bukguhope · 2 months

Text

PASSION PROJECT REVEAL

Idk if anyone will see this but if you love romance books iam taking on a big passion on project this year.

My very own small town romance!

This is something i’ve always dreamed of doing, i love writing so have decided to take on a challenge.

Here is the blurb:

Stony Creek; small town, gossip central - home to dinky bakery's, shops and a love story?

Jace Huxley known as the towns grumpy ranch owner has lived here his entire life. He keeps to himself and prefers it that way. The back of his ranch overlooks a section of Stony Creek which is how he sees her for the first time

Eleanor Quinn has been wanting to escape the city for years but the fear of the unknown is holding her tightly in place. Although every so often she visits exactly where she truly dreams to be, Stony Creek. Everytime she visits a beautiful shop filled with antiques where she envisions herself opening up a cute little bakery

She doesn't realise her life is about to truly change when that shop becomes available to buy.

And Jace as no idea his life is about to change just as much

iam so very excited to take on this big task and if anyone would like to read this it will be on my Wattpad (bukguhope) and if anyone has read this far, i love you and thank you (check out the tags from some trope spoilers!)

#passion project #romance #small town romance #he falls first #grumpy x sunshine #bookblr #bookworm #romance books #romance novels #romantic #book quotes #new books

4 notes · View notes

lianabrooks · 6 months

Text

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A GARGOYLE Bonus Scene!

This is a bonus scene from the ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS A GARGOYLE Collector's Edition.

I'm sharing it here for funsies.

You can buy the regular edition anywhere you buy books.

BUY THE BOOK

THE TABLE READ (Max's POV)

(set 18 months prior to Chapter 1)

Two degrees Celsius was, technically, above freezing, but not enough to convince me that leaving my cozy warm bed for an oh-eight hundred table read was sensible. I managed to shuffle from my suite to the hotel conference room without running into anyone. Unfortunately, that’s where my luck ended.

The largest conference room at the resort was packed with the cast of Shattered was going over the first of the season four scripts. Swirling around them like fireflies around a mulberry were the various support teams; wardrobe minions handing out goodie bags with measuring tape and reminders, personal assistants taking behind-the-scenes photos for social media between hair touch-ups, and the hotel catering staff working desperately to make sure every surly son of a bi-

“Taeyong-a!”

“Max,” I said automatically in a perfect American accent that had cost me more money than I wanted to admit. Foreign-born Korean, fluent in English, French, Korean, and Japanese. That’s what they would remember. Lots of education and dark, dangerous looks.

Although not today, because I wasn’t changing out of my warm, black sweatpants and hoodie for anything short of an actual red carpet today.

Kim Jihun bounced beside me looking more like an over-eager puppy than the lead visual of a Kpop group and Shattered’s resident hero. Everything from his ink-black hair to his shining eyes screamed Idol. “Max,” he said, a perfect mimic, “how are you?”

“Awake before noon.” I gratefully took a mug of something warm from a passing assistant. “It’s cold. I’m out of my blankets. I’m dealing with people.” I swept the room with my signature disgruntled scowl, daring anyone to meet my eye, and clashed.

Burning bright brown eyes met mine as a stranger walked into the room. Her brown hair bounced off the collar of her olive trench coat as a wide, wool plaid skirt swirled around her ankles, and her chin lifted in defiance above the lovely bow of her cream blouse that I had an urge to untie. There was a fight in her eyes, and I was invited.

Suddenly the morning was looking very good indeed.

I let my gaze slide in lazy caresses down the length of her, wondering just how hard I’d have to work to get that bow undone. I ran my tongue along my lips, tasting the morning coffee that would never satisfy my growing hunger. Working my way back up long legs to that proud chin and high cheekbones I met her angry eyes.

One eyebrow arched up in perfect dismissal.

I smiled.

The woman’s lip curled in an unheard, “Ugh.”

“Yummy. Breakfast.”

“Where?” Jihun looked around in confusion. “Is it donuts?”

“No.”

The woman looked around, wide-eyed and furious, as the rest of the cast slowly worked their way to their spots at the table. After a moment that seemed less like hesitation and more like resignation, she took a spot by the name Iris Muhly.

“Oh!” Jihun perked up. “My new secondary love interest. She’s cute.”

“She’s delightful.” I sipped my coffee and reached down to swap cards with Hakan Gazi, their resident Turkish actor and show veteran.

“What are you doing?” Hakan muttered.

“Trading you views.” I sat down directly across from Iris, staring blatantly.

She met my gaze and held. Unafraid. Unapologetic. Untamable.

I smiled.

She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think she likes you,” Jihun whispered.

“That’s fine.” I was the villain. I was supposed to be memorable, not lovable. “She’ll come to the dark side eventually.”

#Liana Brooks #All I Want For Christmas Is A Gargoyle #Romance #Tropes:#He Falls First #Fake Dating #Bad Boy and the Good Girl #Secret Identity #Workplace Romance #Face Claim: Kim Woo Bin #Max Kang #Iris Muhly #Kickstarter #Collector's Edition #Kdrama #I moved to Korea #so my new book is set in the city I live in #let's all be shocked #I usually don't write this close to home

4 notes · View notes

readunpublishedao3 · 10 months

Text

Unintended

“It is not uncommon, princess”, Ser Criston replied, his eyes scanning the woods for any threats. She had snuck out of the hunting camp for Aegon’s second name day and he had followed closely behind, keeping an eye on her. Rhaenyra huffed, plopping down on an overturned log. She stared up at the evening sky through the treetops, admiring the way the last rays of sun cast shadows on the leaves.

“Do lords and kings just sit around and think ‘isn’t it wonderful that you had a son a year ago and now I conveniently have a daughter? I have a brilliant idea, we should marry them off to each other!’ without even sparing a thought for the children they’re using as little pawns.”

“It is not a death sentence, princess.” She ignored him.

“And when I told my father I did not wish to marry Ser Harwin, Otto Hightower suggested that I wed Aegon instead. Aegon? He is two. Completely absurd. Otto Hightower only suggested it because he is an overly ambitious man who wishes to have his own flesh and blood on the throne one day.” She crossed her arms, turning to glare at the flames.

“At least you would be able to hold off the wedding for longer”, he replied with a chuckle. “Would it be so terrible to wed Ser Harwin?” Ser Criston asked, raising a brow at her. “He has not done anything untoward, has he?” Rhaenyra shook her head. “Are you sure? I could always kill him for you if he has.”

“It will not be necessary to kill Ser Harwin”, Rhaenyra groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “He is… a gentleman, I suppose, but I did not choose him. For sixteen years, my entire life, he has been my intended, and I have hardly shared more than a few sentences with him. And I meant to wed him in a month’s time?”

“I do not want to overstep but I believe the reason you have not shared more than a few sentences is because you will not allow him to speak with you.”

“He never tries to speak to me”, Rhaenyra huffed, throwing her hands up.

“He never speaks to you because you look at him like you’re planning to feed him to Syrax if he shows any intention of approaching you.”

“Perhaps he does not speak to me because he does not want to marry me”, Rhaenyra said hopefully. Ser Criston snorted, lips tugging up at one corner.

“Are you being serious?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course.”

“He wants to marry you.” His tone was firm, final.

“How would you know that? Do you speak with him often about our impending nuptials?” Ser Criston shook his head, settling back as the fire blazed higher.

“Aside from the obvious, he has a duty to perform as the heir to his house. His family is loyal and he will surely uphold his end of the agreement without objection. Marrying you will make him Prince Consort and only a fool would be willing to give that up.”

“What do you mean by ‘the obvious’?”

Ser Criston gestured at her and she raised a brow. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I only meant that you are attractive, princess. I am sure you are aware of this. Men do tend to enjoy marrying an attractive woman.” Rhaenyra straightened, pulling her shoulders back.

“So you think that if he did not find me attractive he would be less inclined to continue with our betrothal?” Ser Criston’s face scrunched.

“Do I now have to worry that you will maim yourself to get out of your own wedding?” Rhaenyra laughed loudly, shaking her head.

“I only wish to have the choice, Ser Criston. Even if my father picked ten men and I had to choose from only those, it would be more freedom than I have now. You are lucky you do not have to worry about such things.”

“Becoming a Kingsguard did take that off my plate, not that my marriage would have been anything grand.”

“At the very least you could have married for love”, Rhaenyra sighed.

“That could always come later for you, I suppose, if you give the poor kid a chance.”

__________

Rhaenyra strode back into the camp, her head held high as she ignored the whispers and looks of disgust from the hunting party. She was covered head to toe in blood, hands clasped behind her back as she returned from her unprecedented and eventful night out. Ser Criston walked closely behind her as they neared her father’s table.

Her father’s gaze was piercing, his jaw grinding as he watched her from across the camp with narrowed eyes. She tore her gaze away, wanting to look anywhere but at him, and her eyes drifted to Ser Harwin. He was watching her intently as he skinned the kills from that day. He smiled broadly at her and gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement but she averted her gaze and continued walking. Her father stood as she approached his table and she followed him into his tent. She felt his ire as she stood in silence by the entrance, waiting for him to speak.

“You are the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra. You cannot simply up and leave unannounced and put yourself in danger”, he said angrily, gesturing to her bloodied clothes.

“I’m sorry, father. I needed time to collect myself after our disagreement last night. I wish to speak with you again about the wedding-”

“Not the discussion of your betrothal again”, he moaned. “What would you like me to do, Rhaenyra? Break a betrothal agreement that has been in place for sixteen years with one of our most loyal houses?”

“Well I-”

“You have a duty to perform, more so now that I have named you my heir.”

“I only wanted a choice, father. I’ve had no choice in any of this!”

“You are young. You do not yet understand sacrifice. You want a choice in the matter? Fine”, he grumbled, taking a seat. “Let us speak with Lord Strong and hope he does not take offense.”

“What?”

“You”, he gestured to one of the maids tidying the tent. “Go and fetch Lord Strong and Ser Harwin.” The maid nodded, bowing her head and scurrying from the tent.

“Father you cannot seriously mean to call them in here to discuss this right now.”

“I’d like to be done with this headache, Rhaenyra.” Her back stiffened as the flap of the tent opened and Lord Strong entered, followed closely by his son and heir. Rhaenyra turned to glare at Ser Harwin, but his expression was unreadable as he walked toward her. He stood at her side silently, hands clasped behind his back as he faced the King.

“Your Grace”, Lord Strong said with a bow of his head. Ser Harwin bowed his head in acknowledgement as well, first to the King and then to Rhaenyra. He had not looked her in the eye since walking into the tent, and her gaze kept turning to him, trying to catch his attention.

“Lyonel, my headstrong daughter seems determined to make my life as difficult as possible. She has a request to make of you.” Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped and she sputtered as Lord Strong turned to her.

“Father, I do not think I should lead this discussion.”

“Oh, now you do not wish to speak of it? When you’ve been complaining for half your life about this arrangement?” the King asked, amused. Rhaenyra tilted her head to look at the ground, her heart thudding as she tried to gather her thoughts.

“Lord Strong, I wished to speak with you regarding the betrothal agreement between myself and your son.” Her voice was hushed and the tent was deafeningly silent. Rhaenyra looked to Ser Harwin, whose gaze was trained on a spot behind her, still refusing to look her in the eye.

“Is something the matter?” Lord Strong asked, his brow furrowing in concern. Rhaenyra swallowed, suddenly feeling childish and guilty. But she had brought it up and there was no turning back.

“It is only that –I hope you will understand– I wish to choose my husband.” Lord Strong nodded but remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate. She looked to her father pleadingly, but he shrugged, holding his hand out to gesture for her to continue. “This agreement was made with absolutely no thought to how I might feel about it.” The men remained silent and she felt her emotions bubble to the surface.

”And I realize that, yes, it is my duty as a girl and especially now as heir to the throne to wed a nobleman and produce heirs but the thought is suffocating enough without factoring in that it has all been arranged and set up for me from the moment I entered this world and now that I have come of age and come into my inheritance you expect me to wed your son, a man I did not choose for myself, and give him several children with a smile on my face and no complaints and I do not wish to do it!”

Rhaenyra’s chest was heaving, tears welling in her eyes as she practically shouted the confession at Lord Strong. She could not look at Ser Harwin, who remained unmoving at her side.

“I see”, Lord Strong replied, a frown filling his features. “Harwin?”

“I will not drag an unwilling bride down the aisle”, he said quietly, his jaw clenching. Rhaenyra felt sick, her stomach churning as she looked up at him. “It is fine if the engagement is called off, if that is what the princess wishes.” He was talking about her as if she were not in the room, looking past her. She tilted her head, trying to get him to turn his gaze to her but he would not, instead turning his head away to look at his father.

“When we return to King’s Landing we can have more official paperwork drawn up to dissolve the betrothal”, Lord Strong said, bowing his head before slipping from the tent. Ser Harwin followed his father out, having successfully avoided looking at Rhaenyra throughout the entire interaction.

“You must still wed someone, Rhaenyra”, her father said, his eyes softening as he stood, coming to her and taking her hands in his. “I can arrange for some of the lords and heirs of Westeros to stay at the Keep to give you the opportunity to know them better.”

“Fine”, Rhaenyra said, letting her tears spill over. Her father lifted a hand, brushing them from her cheeks. It had been too simple to get Lord Strong and Ser Harwin to agree to a dissolution, far easier than she had anticipated. They had relinquished the betrothal in under five minutes and she should have felt relieved, but her stomach was sinking at the memory of Ser Harwin ignoring her entirely.

“Many have shown a great interest in you, Lord Jason Lannister in particular has-”

“Jason Lannister is a fool. I’d sooner drop dead than marry a fool.”

__________

Harwin stole away to the woods the moment he left the tent, his hands shaking as he stormed off. She was infuriating, selfish, childish. He was angry at her outburst, angry that she could so easily dismiss him. If his father had any personal ambitions he would have insisted on keeping the match. But his father was a kind man and unfortunately, Harwin could not blame him for granting the princess her wish. He took several deep breaths before slumping to the ground. He could not even look at her, could not bear to see the look of distaste or pity or whatever negative emotion she felt towards him that day.

Years of her ignoring him and openly disliking him and their arrangement had not mattered. They were betrothed and when they were wed, he knew he would be able to win her over eventually, if he was patient. Unfortunately for him, he was overly patient and he had been desperately in love with her for years.

There was only a month until they were meant to be wed, as the princess had come of age earlier that year. He had looked forward to their union more than he wanted to admit, embarrassed at his one-sided affection for his betrothed. He thought she might come to feel the same way eventually, if she would give him a chance. Footsteps sounded behind him but he did not turn until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. His father was looking down at him tenderly.

“I’m sorry, my son”, his father whispered, patting him on the back. His father knew, for years now, that Harwin loved the princess, despite her not reciprocating his interest. Harwin had been betrothed to her at her birth, shortly after his first nameday. He had known no true purpose in his life other than being the heir to House Strong and being betrothed to the princess.

And now one was no longer to be. He leaned into his father’s touch, enjoying the comfort it brought him. He could not begrudge the princess for her choice as he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, but he had hoped she would eventually be able to find happiness with him.

__________

Several weeks had passed before Harwin found himself being called into the small council chamber with his father, the King, and the Princess to finalize the dissolution. He was poring over a document detailing which lands were to be given to him as a consolation prize, positions at court he could take if he was interested, and a large sum of gold to be granted as an apology for the inconvenience of no longer having a bride.

He did not care about any of it and had not expected to be rewarded with anything for agreeing to release the princess from her duties. He simply could not force her into marriage with him. It would eat him alive to know that she would resent him every day if he had not agreed to give her the freedom she desired to select her own match. He signed quickly, not wanting to dwell on it for much longer, and hastily slid the stack of parchments across the table to the princess.

Princess Rhaenyra looked down at the parchment, her fingers brushing over the blank space for her signature. Harwin could see her hands shaking, her breathing becoming more shallow as she read over the dissolution of their betrothal agreement. He watched as her fingers drifted over his signature, smudging the not-yet-dried ink.

“Might I have a moment to speak with Ser Harwin?” she asked, not looking up. His father and the King glanced sidelong at each other, but exited the room without saying a word. Harwin sat still, his hands folded on the table in front of him as he waited for her to speak.

“I think this is a mistake”, Rhaenyra said, gesturing to the papers. Harwin’s breath caught. Surely she could not mean what he thought. “I do not think we should dissolve the betrothal.” Harwin let out a sigh of relief, his mood lifting and hope filling him as the words left her lips. “If we marry, I will not have to deal with all of these ridiculous lords vying for my affections and you will still get to be Prince Consort.”

“What?” Harwin asked, suddenly confused.

“It is beneficial for both of us to continue with this arrangement, I think”, the princess replied, looking at him with widened, hopeful eyes. “I will bear you two children, the first will sit the throne and the second will inherit Harrenhal. We both have a duty to our houses. I suggest we fulfill that duty but afterwards allow each other to do as we please.”

There was no ‘afterwards’ for Harwin. Doing what he pleased did not involve going separate ways from her. It involved a lifetime of being a devoted husband and father, fulfilling his desires of holding her in his arms each night, playing with their children on the beaches at Dragonstone. His duty was not only to continue his line but to dedicate himself to her happiness. He had been silent for too long and Rhaenyra continued speaking.

“When you agreed to end our betrothal at my request I realized that there are few men in the realm who would be willing to give up what you did. I do not need love from a husband, I need respect and understanding and I want as much freedom as I can be allowed in my position. And I feel that you are most suited for that.”

“Right, of course.”

“So do you agree?” It sickened him that he could not deny her, that she had him so firmly wrapped around her finger she could ask him to put himself to the sword and he would do it without question. A farce of a marriage was all she was asking of him and he felt so much longing for her that he could not find it in his heart to decline. He would have her in whatever way she would allow him and it would have suffice. He nodded, reaching across the table and tearing the papers.

#harwin strong #harwin breakbones #princess rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaewin #smut #enemies to lovers #pining #house of the dragon #ser harwin breakbones #ser harwin strong #betrothed #slow burn #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #wattpad #he falls first

8 notes · View notes