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cryptidcasanova · 1 day

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Lover Boy

Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.

Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.

3.5k

The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.

You were mortified.

One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.

There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.

You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.

Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.

Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.

'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'

You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.

Again, mortified.

He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.

But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.

He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.

"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."

You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.

"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.

"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.

"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."

Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.

"You want to help me find a man?"

Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.

"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"

It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.

You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.

At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.

"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.

Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.

All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.

The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.

"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."

"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.

"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."

It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.

"Please don't go."

But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.

"You're running out of time, punk."

The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.

For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.

But it still hurt.

A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.

But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.

"Get out of the car."

You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.

He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.

"No."

He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.

"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."

His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.

Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.

"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.

The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.

"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.

But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.

"What's gotten into you?"

"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."

You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?

"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."

The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.

"Let me take you home."

As if you had a choice.

You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.

So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.

But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.

"You're unhappy."

"No shit."

"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"

You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.

"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.

He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.

But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.

"We're friends, Buck."

You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.

"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"

And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.

"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."

You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.

And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.

When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.

"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."

"Bucky-"

But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.

"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.

"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.

It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.

"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.

Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.

"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."

It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.

"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.

"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."

The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.

Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.

Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.

The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.

You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.

He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.

Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.

You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.

And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.

Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.

You're a vision.

Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.

There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.

He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.

And then the car jerked to a stop.

There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.

That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.

Bucky doesn't share your distress.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.

You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.

If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.

As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.

"This isn't my place."

His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.

"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"

And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.

#mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky #mob!au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #the carriage scene #bucky barnes #lover boy

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metalmiez · 3 days

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Another ineffable Viking Wives i created for @riathedreamer 🖤🤍

I‘m on my knees for femme Aziracrow in love🥹 They deserve so much more soft moments 😌

And ofc I needed them to kiss 😂🥰

#good omens #good omens fanart #fanart #ineffable husbands #ineffable #ineffable wives #viking wives #aziracrow #aziracrow kiss #femme aziraphale #femme crowley #good omens fic #good omens au #viking #kiss #good ineffable omens #ineffable spouses #ineffable lovers #are we meant to read the footnotes?

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sukirichi · 2 days

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 008 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. unedited.

notes. thank you to everyone who waited patiently, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 this will be the beginning of kiyoomi arc!

wc. 11k

series masterlist | next

[ EIGHT ] all they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride – the only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife

The Kingdom of Inarizaki was at a loss whether to celebrate the early return of the latest married couple from their honeymoon. The couple seemed to be doing great – according to the tabloids, anyway. When they arrived, the Princes and their wives waved to the people, all eager for a glimpse of the infamous couple who had married for love. For two years, society had their eyes on you – the shy, reserved noblewoman who caught the eye and heart of their one and only Crown Prince Suna Rintaro. And oh, what a wedding it was, broadcasted all over the world and celebrated like a holiday.

What the world didn’t know was that it was an entirely different story behind the Palace walls.

You may share a bedroom, but never the bed. You’d been acquainted with the couch for the next few nights, only seeing your husband once in the mornings before he left to do his duties, and every now and then when the Queen wanted to have dinner. Not that you were complaining – the space was most appreciated. Without Suna lingering, there’d be less reminders of how much of a fool he took you. A naïve, young woman who really deluded herself into believing a Prince could want her. Although…

Suna didn’t not want you, either.

In the few spaces in between, he would look for you. He would make small talk and ask if you’ve eaten. If you liked breakfast, which was a silly question, since it was always tea and waffles. If you enjoyed yourself while he was away, this, again, was a silly question. You spent the mind–numbing hours blaming yourself for being in this predicament. That, perhaps, if you had just been brave to walk away that night you found out the truth, then you wouldn’t be out here wondering if the maids’ whispers were true – that Suna spent most of his nights at Belleview Manor, because quote unquote, “he was unwelcome in his own quarters.”

As if somehow it was your fault he did not feel comfortable to sleep under the same roof with you.

Sighing, you flipped your novel closed. No one had given you official duties yet, other than the blatantly obvious one of giving the Crown Prince an heir. ‘They will have such sleepless nights!’, the Queen’s goons crooned. ‘So young and virile, they are, we’ll have a new Crown Prince in no time!’ Oh, if only it were that easy. If there were to be a Prince, Iris would most likely be the mother, considering he saw her more often than you did. And how funny of a thought that was – you wanted distance from him, yet something died inside you little by little the colder your room got.

“Since we have returned, my schedule will be full.”

You glanced up from where you sat. Suna had sauntered back into the room, his tie loosened; hair messed up like he ran his fingers through it several times. Already, a servant stood beside him to comb his hair back neatly. You couldn’t help but stare. How long had it been since you combed his hair for him? You knew he hated it when they gelled it back. He preferred it messy and unkempt, saying his bedroom hair felt most natural. The bedroom hair he’s shown only to you in the quiet breaks of the night when he was in your bed.

The bedroom hair Iris had seen, as well.

Just the thought of it forces a smile on your face. Standing up, you brushed off the imaginary dust off your skirt. Less than a week in the Palace, and you were already so miserable. You could at least try to look less bothered by his unrequited affections.

“Do what you must.”

Once his hair had been brushed to perfection, Suna gestured for his servant to step away. The man politely bowed down before exiting the room. “I mean to say,” he continued, stepping closer now that there was no one else around. Your breath hitched the closer he got, but you dared not move, not even when his warm, familiar hand cups the curve of your cheek. “The meetings I must attend and people to deal with will take up most of my time.”

You knew what he was trying to say – that he wouldn’t be around, and you had to entertain yourself in his absence. Gently, you take a step back from his touch, watching as an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“And as I have said, do what you must. I have my own duties to fulfill as well.”

“You do not sound bothered by this.”

“Why should I be?” you shrugged, “If I am to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, surely I can enjoy what little time left I have for myself.”

Suna’s lips thinned. “You could act a little less eager to get rid of me.”

“On the contrary, I have no intention of leaving.”

“So I will see you tonight?”

“If we run into each other at the palace, yes, yes you will.”

If he seemed discontent with your half–hearted response, he did not show it. Must be the practiced regality and composure befitting for a Crown Prince like him – all lazy, yet wary, watching eyes. He, too, must know the true meaning behind your words. There was no need to pretend.

You both knew Suna would run into Belleview Manor as soon as the night ends, and his duties for the day had been tended to. Meanwhile, his wife would stay up all night in her couch.

Not quite waiting for him, but not quite imagining if he slept better at her side, either.

It was an unspoken deal between you two already. So he leaves without another word, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when the door finally slams shut.

Tears prick at your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were tired of this. Tired of not knowing where you truly were in his life – were you his wife, his friend? After you’d heard of his passion and dedication to Iris, you weren’t so evil to stop him from seeing her. He loved her first. And you of all people should know the pain of not having the one person you wanted most. To him, she was his unattainable treasure. She was already making him smile before you even came to his life. She was already offering companionship and the comfort he desperately needed in this tiresome world of politics and power. She was his solace in all this chaos.

And you… you were just his wife. And without a baby in your belly, you might as well be just another useless figure in the Palace.

You refused to be so.

You may be worthless to him as his wife, for you truly couldn’t have his heart, but you refused to be a worthless person. Deep down, you knew you weren’t. It was just the title of ‘Princess’ that made you feel incapable and short. Did that mean you weren’t meant to be Princess, then? Should you go back to your manor, learning how to handle the household and managing the family business like your parents taught?

If you were not for Suna, did that mean you were not for the Crown, as well?

You bit your lip in contemplation. There was only one person who could provide you a solution to this.

“It is not every day I am summoned by a Princess,” a smooth, deep voice filtered through the garden. Smiling, you stood up to greet the Third Prince. A curtsy, a bow, and soon you two were sipping tea – the momentary peace a guise of what was to come. Kita must have sensed it, too, his gaze flitting over your pinched face with understanding and patience. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your honeymoon.”

You grimaced. “Definitely not. There were no pleasantries to begin with.”

His face fell.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you… My apologies. I’m not sure how to proceed with this.”

Nodding, you set your tea town. You had a feeling he truly meant his apology, which felt good, seeing as most of the Princes had too much pride to know the word ‘sorry.’ But you hd always known that Prince Kita was unlike the other Princes – he had more honor, and a stronger sense of morality compared to his brothers. Maybe it was due to his being raised by his mother, who was a lawyer, and therefore was not so exposed to the greed and competition experienced by the other Princes.

Whatever it was, he was just different. And you could rely on him to be truthful, too.

“Have you always known about them?” you muttered, refusing to look at the Prince’s face in fear of being met with pity. That was the last thing you wanted – to be seen as the poor, unwanted wife. “Iris and Rintaro?”

“I have.”

“I see.”

Kita sighed. “Please don’t misunderstand, Princess. I never meant to keep it from you. None of us did – except for those truly involved. It was just… I grew up with them, too. Keiji and I were only a year ahead of Rintaro and Iris. When I heard the Crown Prince had become acquainted with a foreign royal scholar, we didn’t think too much of it. Her sudden marriage with Kiyoomi surprised us all, and none of us would’ve thought that her friendship with Rintaro would turn into something more.”

“You don’t need to explain all of this to me, Your Highness.”

“Perhaps, but…” reaching over the table, the Prince squeezed your knuckle. You chuckled, not having realized you’d balled up your hands into a fist. It turned out you couldn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, to act like you didn’t care how much it all hurt. “I do not want you to think I am not on your side.”

“You do not need to be on my side. He is your brother.”

“Blood means little to me when my own kind is cruel to others,” he retorted, looking offended you would suggest otherwise. “I have always been against it, Princess. I told him from the beginning that to covet one’s brother’s wife is one thing, but to involve someone else, all for his selfish reason of ascending a throne that was always rightfully his just seemed heartless.”

Heartless. Gods. To know that your husband was capable of being cruel was one thing, but to hear it coming from his own brother’s lips was another.

“But Rintaro is Rintaro. Of course he is stubborn.”

“Indeed, he is,” Prince Kita sighed in defeat, leaning back against his seat as he stroked his chin in thought. “Princess, while I cannot guarantee I can take all of your woes away, I want you to know you can trust me. If there is anything you need, let me know and I will do it for you. It’s the least I can do to make your stay here in the Palace tolerable.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I do, and I am a man of my word.”

“Then I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush,” you gritted your teeth, forcing the words to come out.

It had always been a lingering thought at the back of your mind – to leave Rintaro – but there was this prideful, equally stubborn voice at the back of your head telling you it was too early to give up. That you needed to fight. But what was there to fight for? It wasn’t like Rintaro would learn to love you. And neither do you plan on wooing him. So, instead, you swallowed up your pride and called for Kita, knowing he would never judge you for the choices you were about to make.

“I actually called for you today because I wish to discuss royal marital laws, possibly with your mother. She would know about it best.”

“You need legal counsel,” he caught on, and you nod, “I can arrange that. I assume you want it discreetly, too. That is no problem at all. But if I may be bold, I wish to ask something from you in return.”

“Name your price.”

“It is about this maid that I am fond of. Airi,” her name came out breathily from his mouth, almost like a whisper. You noticed the Prince glancing around the empty garden almost warily, though you already took measures to ensure no one would be around to witness this conversation. Reassured, Kita sat up straighter and looked you in the eye, nothing but sincerity and determination in his expression. “I will do anything you ask of me, as long as it is within legal reasons, if you take her in as your personal maid.”

“I’ve heard rumors about you having affections for a maid in your quarters,” you mumbled, feeling almost sorry for the kind–hearted Prince. It seemed he, too, did not escape the heartbreaking torment for falling for a person you could never have. “So it is true, after all.”

“It is. You seem surprised about it. Is it so shocking to learn of a Prince having genuine feelings for another?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. I think I should know best that passion is something you brothers certainly have,” you snort, and Kita fights back a grin. “Very well, then. I will take care of your lovely maid, although I do wish to know – why are you assigning her to me? Have you… done anything to stain her honor?”

The color seeped out of the Prince’s face.

“I would never do such a thing.”

“I figured you wouldn’t.”

Kita’s shoulders squared before he exhaled. “Airi is… Ever since I set my sights on her, she has been in danger. People have been very unkind towards her, especially with the staff in my quarters. And as much as I would love having her by my side in my every waking hour, it would break my heart to know that she is being looked down upon simply because I admire her. But I figure with her at your side, with a new assignment, she will have some peace.”

Your heart ached for him. You could tell this was not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one if he wanted to ensure his lover’s well-being.

“You can still see her, Your Highness. It’s not like I will take her away from you.”

“I wouldn’t let you, either, but these are very difficult times for everyone in the Palace. The security of the throne weakens every day. The Parliament is restless, and there is only so little I can do with all these failed unions,” he rattled on, eyes widening when he realized it too late. Bowing his head, the Prince’s brows furrowed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to–”

“Our marriage is not a failed union. Not yet. I will make certain it will not be a failure.”

It couldn’t be a failure. There was only one way out of this dreadful marriage, and as much as you hated it, that exit only existed in a path where you had no choice but to let him be a great King. This is why you need Kita’s mother’s counsel. Surely there could be a loophole in the clause that would invalidate the marriage. But until that opportunity presents itself, you were stuck here in this Castle, surrounded by everyone but your husband.

You had to make it work.

“With all due respect, Princess,” sighs the Prince, looking more remorseful than irritated. “Why is it that you try so hard? You do not need to stay with him, you know. It may be against the law for royal marriages to be annulled, but surely we can find a way. You do not need to torture yourself by spending one more day with your husband.”

“I know that.”

“Then why do you stay?”

“Because,” you croaked out, feeling a lump grow in your throat. “Because loving him is all I had known, and perhaps it is time I learn to despise him, as well.”

Silence stretches. The prince sat there, unmoving, as your words hang in the thick air between you two. You knew he would understand; he wouldn’t judge. But there is still concern in his handsome features that made you realize how pitiful you really are. And maybe there was no one else to blame but yourself, because you were foolish, and in love. But you were trying – by the Gods, you really were doing your best – to just be in love and not have to be foolish anymore.

Kita could see this as well. Your strength, your grit. He could see everything from where he sat, and that was why he simply nodded. “Are you getting there yet?”

“I will get there someday.”

Before the Prince could say anything else, a servant appeared from the bushes. He looked sheepish upon the intrusion, an apologetic smile on his face directed to the Prince. “Your Highness. It is time for your lessons.”

The Prince sent you a knowing look. This was not to be the last time you see each other, and you smiled up at him, grateful. It felt good to have at least one person you could lean on in the Palace. You stood up, too, shaking his hand just as his servant excused himself. If your memory did not fail you, the Third Prince studied law outside of the Palace and had to attend university, unlike his brothers who had chosen to indulge in their promised wealth after graduating high school.

“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to, but my words still ring true – I am only a call away should you need me.”

“Thank you so much for your time, my Prince.”

“It was my pleasure. I will inform you right away of my mother’s availability.”

“Oh, and Princess,” piped up the servant from somewhere around the bushes, “Princess Maiko is looking for you. She is waiting for you in her drawing room.”

You should’ve expected that Princess Maiko would come looking for you. The whole ordeal she witnessed back at your rest house must have come as a shock for her. Sure, her marriage didn’t go so well, either, but at least Tooru hadn’t gone around sleeping with someone else. For a man who didn’t want to get married, he kept to his vow of loyalty to his wife. Still, you didn’t want this to be a competition on who had it worse – Maiko was simply worried, and you had to explain yourself for your untoward behavior on everyone’s getaway.

“Princess! Oh my gosh – how are you?! I was worried sick!”

“Princess,” you return her hug, smiling despite the fact the smaller Princess had a bone–crushing grip. “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am well.”

“Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be,” she pulled back with tears in her eyes. You almost apologized on the spot now that you remembered demanding to return to the City without informing the others why. Especially not Maiko, who seemed to be clueless. “I… I heard from Tooru about everything. The entire situation with Iris and the Crown Prince – truly, I did not know a single thing. If I had, I would have told you right away.”

“I know, and I’m thankful for your support.”

You squeeze her hand in reassurance, and the Princess leads you to sit on the couch. She slumps on it rather ungracefully, her innocent, wide eyes moist as she shakes her head.

“I had no idea Iris could do that. I just… the moment she arrived in the palace, she was so lovely, you know? She was always a little reserved, and liked to keep to herself, but I never would’ve guessed. I truly thought she was a good friend of mine, and now I have no idea who she really is.”

“Neither did I.”

“How are you, though? And please, tell me the truth. You do not need to pretend all is well.”

You shrug half-heartedly. “I am the Crown Prince’s wife. I must learn to be strong.”

“You mustn’t torture yourself any longer,” she licks her lips, chuckling without a trace of humor in it. “Although I do not blame you for staying in a marriage without love,” she smiled sadly, holding your hand firmer where it sat on her lap. “What do you plan to do?”

“I will divorce him,” you announced, and finally saying it loud felt different than just having the thought float in your head. It now felt like a reality. A choice you had to be firm in making. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful wedding ring sitting on your finger – how just like your marriage, it is sparkling yet meaningless.

Leaving him would be the right choice. It would not mean you were weak.

“Once I meet with Kita’s mother and work our way around the law… I’m going to leave him. If it is a proper marriage he wants, then it is the one thing he will not get,” braving to look her in the eyes, you force a determined smile. “I believe it is the right thing to do, Your Highness. I must pick my battles wisely.”

“I understand, and I support you if this is what you want to do.”

“Thank you, Princess.”

“Although…”

“Although?”

“I still find it hard to believe,” she quipped, momentarily letting go of your hand as she stood up, pacing around the room. Her dark hair, neatly braided and adorned with headpieces, slowly started falling into curled pieces around her delicate face with how fast she’d been pacing. Almost as if her feet couldn’t quite keep up with her thoughts. “Iris and Kiyoomi had been married for five years, and Tooru told me they’d loved each other long before then. I am aware I am not the best at reading the room, but surely I am not so foolish to miss the love in their eyes. I would have known, Your Highness, I swear.”

You smile, confused. “I… am not sure I understand what you mean.”

“I mean Iris never looked in love,” she reiterated. “Granted, she was never affectionate with Kiyoomi, so that much is clear, but with the Crown Prince? They barely even speak to each other.”

“You couldn’t have known if they did spend time together,” you told her as softly as you could, “I heard they often hid in Belleview Manor, away from the eyes of the public.”

“But I live here,” she argued, and you stopped trying to butt in. For such a small thing, you had already learned once Maiko had her head set on something, almost nothing could stop her. “I live in Honor Hall, just five minutes away from them! I could have heard something. And on the few times I do see them together, Iris had always seemed… walled off. If Rintaro was able to display his affections openly, Iris was not the same. That night you weren’t at the house, they did not seem like a happy couple to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Maiko shook her head again, causing more curls to loosen. “They seemed familiar with each other, but not intimate. It was almost as if they were lovers purely in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have known each other’s heart,” her eyes lit up, before it dimmed again when she took in your somber expression. “I do not mean to give you false hope, Princess, but believe me. I know a man in love when I see one, and it is not the Crown Prince with Iris. But… but when you were not married yet, everyone could tell the Crown Prince smiled more. He laughed often, too, and he even spent more time with his brothers.”

“Well, that is only natural. He has a lot of siblings. Of course he would enjoy their company.”

“No, no, you do not understand, Princess. The Crown Prince… didn’t grow up that way,” she bit her lip, and then scooted next to you. “As the only son of the King and Queen, he was already more important than the rest. Because of that, he was raised differently – away and isolated from his brothers. He was always tutored alone, and never played with the other Princes. He spent his childhood locked up in his study, but then the Queen allowed him to attend regular school, and when he graduated… he met you. And I swear, he was different then.”

“Because he already met her,” you remarked, hoping she would stop already. Rintaro does not love you. “He’d become happier because Iris was already in his life.”

“I went to the same school with them; grew up with them. I had crushed on Prince Tooru for so long that I followed wherever he went, and where Tooru was, the Crown Prince would follow. They were born just months apart. And Iris never made the Crown Prince look… look…”

“Look what?”

“Look content,” she finally supplied. “But when the Crown Prince introduced you to us, he had this look on his face. When you spoke to others, he would always be looking at you, listening to your every word. Even when you were not in the same room, he would speak fondly of you. And he even once told me he still could not believe someone as precious as you had been attending the same lousy balls he’d been enduring all his life. He said that if he had met you earlier, he might have never skipped out attending the dances.”

“I don’t know,” your lips trembled, “I do not know what to do, Princess. Hearing of this does not make it any better.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but you must understand,” she squeezed your hand, desperation evident in her tone. “Your husband looks at you the way I wished mine would at me. He may say otherwise, but his eyes cannot lie. He softens when you are around, Princess. That night you did not return home at Greenville, the Crown Prince could not sleep at all. And these past few days…”

“I believe that is enough. I do not wish to hear how he spent his nights at Belleview.”

“He didn’t, Your Highness. The Crown Prince has never even spoken to Iris ever since we returned from your honeymoon.”

Rintaro could count the number of things pissing him off with one hand.

One: You had barely acknowledged his existence the past few days.

Two: Iris wouldn’t stop pulling him into dark, secluded corners in the Castle each time she chanced upon him. Two-point-five: She couldn’t understand he was not in the mood for another one of their trysts.

Three: Kiyoomi skipped another meeting concerning Itachiyama again.

Seriously, Rintaro understood being a Prince was tiresome work. It was not as grandiose as the tabloids made it out to be. Even in his sleep, he sometimes dreamt of paperwork, or he would wake up in the middle of the night with his hands signing off imaginary papers. The pressure was tougher on Kiyoomi, too, because he was expected to be ready to take after Wakatoshi at any time he even faltered – note: the First Prince never did – and to also act as representative for the other territory thanks to his birthright. But his brother was an hermit, and seemed to fear the sunlight, considering he never left his quarters. Or on the rare occasions he did, he would be hiding away in other countries doing who knows what.

He had just finished a meeting with some of the territory leaders regarding a public complaint that the price of goods had gone up, and some daily necessities were now ridiculously overpriced. One of the main suppliers of good livestock and coconuts, Itachiyama, made it even more expensive – not for any good reason, just that their leader loved to remind Inarizaki constantly that they needed him more than he needed the monarchy.

His goading affected his people, and Rintaro has had enough. Kiyoomi could at least try to pretend to be interested in the meetings. Out of all the nine princes, Kiyoomi was the most influential for being a half-blood. The Itachiyama president adored him. He wouldn’t have had to struggle negotiating for prices had he been doing his work. He was the damned mediator between the two countries, for goodness’ sake!

And to make it all worse, his life did not get any better outside the meeting rooms.

No, because his wife was intent on acting like he did not exist. And on the few times he did manage to be in the same space as you without you running off, you always looked through him. Like he wasn’t even a real person. As if he was just an apparition, a ghost in your mind that you could overlook if you tried hard enough.

He already knew you wouldn’t be in your quarters once he returned, but Rintaro still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment washing over him. He chose you to be his future Queen for many reasons, one of them being your wisdom in these kinds of things. You just needed a little encouragement to speak up, but Rintaro was confident you would make a great leader. You had genuine care for your people. You would have been able to help him make the best decisions for everybody – if you would just listen to him. Wasn’t that how marriages work? To share the burden of the Crown together? The Crown was too heavy for one person alone, which is why Kings cannot be crowned without their Queens.

Rintaro couldn’t do it alone. Each day was becoming more challenging for him, and he so desperately wished he could discuss the country’s future with you. He would feel more confident in his choices. He would be more reassured that he was doing the right thing, but it seemed that all he knew how to do lately was fuck everything up.

On his way back, Rintaro stopped trying to look regal. He let his shoulders slump and ran his fingers through his hair again. The gel be damned. Loosening his tie, he rolled his shoulders back and winced at how stiff his back was. Sitting on his ass all day long, having to listen to old men argue back and forth over money, and simultaneously having to deal with a marriage he’d already screwed over – Rintaro just wanted to disappear.

He wanted to return to Greenville.

It was peaceful there. People minded their own business, everyone had their own purpose and reason for waking up each day and there, he could just be himself. Not the Crown Prince, not a young man who had to hurt you for the sake of the throne. He could just… be free.

“Your Highness,” a servant bowed in front of him, keeping a respectful distance but enough to let him know he needed his attention.

“Good evening,” he greeted back, “Have you seen my wife?”

“Her Highness was with Princess Maiko this morning. Last I heard, she has not left the Palace, at all.”

“I see,” Rintaro was already moving towards Honor Hall before his feet could register it. It was a good twenty minute walk, and the chances of running into Iris weren’t miniscule, but it would be worth it. He could use some fresh air, anyway. And he figured with Maiko around, you would be less opposed to spending the evening with him – until he realized Maiko must have known everything, too. How he manipulated you, and left you in the middle of nowhere.

On second thought, having two Princesses who clearly did not welcome him would not make for a great night.

“My Prince!”

Rintaro stopped on his tracks. He had a split second to school his expression to surprise – the good kind – when he came face to face with the last woman he wanted to see.

“Mother,” he greeted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles whilst she fanned herself. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting.”

She waved her fan around. “Oh, I had to nearly knock down the guards when they wouldn’t let me in, but I had to see my daughter. I heard from the news that you came home too early. Well, what is wrong? Is she sick? Does she not like the countryside? Or perhaps there was an emergency you had to attend to?” fanning herself harder, Rintaro’s hand wound at the small of her back to guide the older woman into a nearby seat. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I am worried, my son.”

“Your concern for her will put her at ease, I’m certain,” he reassured, swallowing the uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. “This is just… a difficult time for us, Mother. I fear Her Highness is having doubts about our marriage once she saw how overwhelming the Crown could be. She simply wished to return home because she felt there were things to be done here.”

Your mother sighed and shook her head. “My poor daughter. She always felt the need to prove her worth by working herself to death,” spinning to face him, she pointed her fan in his direction – which would be considered a threat to the Crown Prince, but she was his mother–in–law. Her presence itself was a threat to his life. “Promise me you won’t let her exhaust herself, son. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“She is in good hands, Mother, I promise you this.”

Pleased with him, your mother beamed. “I was also… Well, I may be crossing the line, but now that you tell me my poor daughter is anxious about her royal duties, I was planning to hold a ball in her honor. A welcoming ball for the new Princess, of sorts. It should help her integrate into your world better, but still with the comfort of our support.”

“A ball sounds lovely. We can hold it anytime as we are still in our honeymoon period and she will be free for quite some time.”

“That is perfect! I will make the arrangements, then.”

Wearing his best Prince Charming smile, even if he was anything but, Rintaro found himself mindlessly agreeing to everything your mother wanted. He would have to squeeze all these events in his already hectic schedule, but he was not complaining. She was right. You deserved to relax and enjoy yourself. He should know best that having royal titles did not promise a life of gallivanting and endless tea parties. Once your mother had exhausted herself from all the planning, Rintaro escorted her out to the palace entrance, stopping only when your figure appeared from the corner.

Finally, you were looking at him.

But with a glare.

Well, he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“You are a far better actor than I give you credit for – lying to my mother like that.”

“I did not mean to.”

You rolled your eyes, and Rintaro bit his lip. Cute, he thought, but he would never say it out loud. He would simply enjoy the fact you did not push him away, or walk away as if you were scalded when he started walking next to you. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal. Minus the extreme glaring, of course.

“Surely. It’s not like telling her you manipulated me for the past two years was on your to-do list.”

“Do not use that tone on me.”

“I will speak with you however I wish. You do not get to tell me what to do.”

“You are right; I cannot tell you what to do, so do as you please, then,” he surrendered, and you must be surprised by how he easily gave in from the way you froze. Glaring harder, Rintaro bit his cheek, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon your pretty face. And oh, how badly he wanted to smooth that frown you’re wearing. “I missed you. I have not seen you all day long.”

“Must have been a lovely day for you, then.”

It was hell, actually, was what he wanted to say, but even that did not seem enough to articulate what he truly felt. I missed you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Please sleep on the same bed with me again. I want to hold you all night long, and your scent calms me. But instead, all that comes out of his mouth was, “It was not lovely at all.”

“Hmm. I’m not Iris.”

“No, you aren’t.”

He agreed wholeheartedly – you were not his lover. Iris would not argue with him like this; in fact, they never argued at all. Whenever they had misunderstandings, they resolved it by taking out their frustrations on the bedroom, and the next day, all would be forgiven and forgotten. It was easier with Iris, in some ways, because with you he actually had to use his words, and he had to say the right ones. Both of which he wasn’t good at, but would try his very best anyway.

“I heard you spent the day with Maiko. How was it? Did you two have fun?”

“As fun as two women suffering at the hands of men who despise them could have.”

Rintaro took a larger step to stand in front of you, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I do not despise you.”

“Really? You made me feel otherwise.”

Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, feeling much more exhausted than he did after the meetings ended. “You do not have to make this so difficult, you know. I am trying to fix this.”

The laugh you let out is sardonic, teetering on the edges of borderline angry. But he would take it – because arguments with you were better than having you ignore him, and he would take a thousand more arguments if it meant you talked. He would consume your wrath over your coldness every other day. Even when you cross your arms and look at him like he was the most vile creature to ever walk the Earth – because your eyes are on him, and in that moment, in the middle of another of a hundred hallways in his Palace, there was no one else but you and him. A husband and his wife. A Prince and his Princess.

“Oh, are you now? Because last time I checked, you were still in love with someone else, and I’m still nothing but a pawn in your silly game.”

“I may be in love with someone else, but it was you who I couldn’t get off my mind.”

“Is that supposed to make my heart flutter?”

You reel back as if burnt, and Rintarou couldn’t fathom why your expression hurt him so much. As if his declaration, his vulnerability, of being putty in your hands repulsed you instead of excited you. However, he refused to show he hung desperately to your every word, refused to admit that you held all the power in your hands, not him. So, he plays it off, and flirtingly lifts a brow just to get you even more riled up.

“I was hoping it would.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, Rintaro, you won’t win.”

His eyes darkened. Suddenly, all self-restraint he previously had had been thrown out the window. The urge to press his lips to you – yes, those same lips scowling at him – becomes all too consuming. He fools himself into taking the heat in your eyes as desire instead of anger. And he takes one step forward, two, then three, until your back hits the wall and his large frame prevents you from escaping. He liked you best here, he realized, under his mercy and staring up at him with your soft lips, pliant and open to release a gasp when he leans in. Closer, closer, only for his lips to meet the skin of your cheek.

Rintaro stifled a disappointed groan.

Masking it with a chuckle, he trailed his lips down your cheek and to your jawline, all the way until he’s inhaling your intoxicating scent – he wants your damned perfume to stick to his skin for days to come so everyone in the Palace knows he is yours. And like a flower, you bloom only to him. Craning your neck and pushing your chest upwards to his despite your resistance, breathing hard and heavy to let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by this.

And by the Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take you in this wall right here and then.

Brushing his lips just above your pulse point, Rintaro smiled. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was certain his was, too, when you began to crumple his shirt in your hands. “I never knew my name could sound so important without the titles attached to it.”

“Wh–what?” your query came out breathily. Not that he could blame you, for his words have also begun to sound more like a whisper.

“Rintaro,” he echoed, nosing your neck to greedily take in more of your scent. If not on his skin, then he will settle for the evidence of you all over his clothes – and damned the servants who dared wash his dress shirt. “Not Prince, not Your Highness. Just Rintaro. It makes me feel like… it is just you and I, husband and wife, as simple as that,” you draw in another gasp just as his fingers start ghosting over your waist, fighting the urge to pin you in place, or to just hold you delicately because he knew he’d broken you enough. Rintaro felt weak, his head dropping in the column of your shoulder. “I truly did miss you. And I do not like how I spent many nights, in our bed, alone.”

“You do not deserve to share a bed with me.”

“I know,” he lamented, and that firm resolve of keeping him at a distance was enough to wake him up. Pushing himself off of you, Rintaro took a solid minute to admire you like this – lips parted, expectant for a kiss, and skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat, with eyes so bewildered he could see himself clearly in the reflection – that he was just a man now, and not really the husband you wanted him to be. Once he had his fill, Rintaro smoothed down the wrinkles you fisted in his shirt and took a step back. “But you do not deserve to sleep in just a couch. Take the bed tonight. I will sleep outside.”

“But that’s–”

“I’m the one who fucked up,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his face, “So I should be the one sleeping uncomfortably. I know I cannot tell you what to do, and neither do I plan on ordering you around, but this is the one thing you cannot argue with me on. You will take the bed. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Back to titles. Back to formality. Back to reality.

“Good girl,” he murmured absentmindedly, nodding in the direction of your bedroom. “Let us head back to our quarters. I’m buying you a new dress for the ball first thing in the morning.”

To say Rintaro had changed would be an understatement.

He was a completely different person than your husband in the honeymoon. It was as if… last night’s intimate encounter had brought him back to the Rintaro you fell in love with, but this time it felt different. He felt more intense. Maybe it was the fact that his secrets were now laid out in the open, which could mean his attentive actions toward you no longer held the purpose of winning you over. Maybe now he truly just wanted to spend time with you because he could.

Cancelling his plans for the day, he’d told the servants you were going out shopping, and oh, what a cunning, devilish Prince he is. He knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him out in public. With so many eyes watching, you spent nearly every second of the day with your arms looped around his, laughing and smiling at every word he said, and not daring to keep your eyes off him lest someone took a photographed and headlined it ‘Newly Married Royal Couple Having Their First Lovers’ Spat In Public.’ No. No, that would be catastrophic. The Queen would be furious.

Here, in public, you were forced to act sweet and touchy with him, to which the stupid Crown Prince basked in as he led you from boutique to boutique. He complimented you on everything, even when you wore a hideous bright orange gown that made even the designer flinch. But in Rintaro’s eyes, you were simply mesmerizing. He even got a suit that matched all of your dresses, claiming that everyone should know he was married to you. Everyone already knew that – the whole world knew – but you didn’t want to burst his bubble.

Aside from having a day off, your husband genuinely did seem to be doing things other than paperwork.

You stopped being kind once you entered the car, however, when the windows had rolled up and you had both stopped waving to the people. Here, it was just the driver and the both of you, and the driver knew better than to comment on whatever happened, anyway. Sighing, you scooted to the other end of the seat, prying yourself off of Rintaro’s tight grip around your waist.

“Drop the act.”

“What act?”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking off your gloves and folding them neatly in your lap. “We are in the privacy of our car. You needn’t pretend any longer.”

“Who said I was pretending?”

You looked at him dead in the eye. “You are not fooling anyone. This was all a PR act – you did not actually mean whatever it is you said to me out there, but worry not. I’ll get out of your hair and divorce you – surely that will make everything easier.”

The way Rintaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head would be comical if he didn’t look so scared. In a flash, your husband crossed the distance and sat next to you, his hurried movements causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His large hands began to engulf yours, and you suck in a breath – without the gloves, it felt more intimate. “What divorce?” he chuckled nervously, brushing his lips over your bare knuckles. It was the faintest of touches, only done to appease you, but it still didn’t stop the bolt of heat coursing through your thighs. Gods, it was just so hard trying to stay mad at him.

“You know that’s impossible. Royal marriages are forever. Look, if you truly wish to divorce me, fine. But you know you will have to help me become King first. Once I am crowned, I can write a new law that says royal couples can be separated.”

“You are despicable.”

“I am,” he whined. Whined! Seriously, who was this man? “But I promise you, if you help me, I will let you go. Look, I’ll even find a high–ranking nobleman for you. The best of the best. You wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. Just… don’t ever mention divorce to me right now. I won’t let you.”

Scoffing, you pull your hands back from his heavenly lips. “You seriously think after everything, loneliness is somehow my biggest issue?” Rintaro opened his mouth to retort, but you shook your head, making yourself small between him and the window seat. You hated it, how helpless you felt, from wanting his touch to being burnt by it. You hated it even more how you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled, “Have you ever thought that maybe I just want to forget you?”

“I do not want you to,” he breathed out, and your eyes snapped shut when you felt his fingers brush over your cheeks. “But I am not so selfish to deprive you of a good thing. You will find someone who can love you better than I could.”

Your heart fell.

“Well, that would be easy. You never loved me to begin with.”

The Crown Prince never spoke again. You both mulled over your silences as you arrived back at the Palace, heading into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. Rintaro was to your left, taking out his razor blade and shaving foam while you stood to his right, lathering on your cleanser and toner. Thankfully, the silence did not feel as heavy as it did on the ride back home, but it was still far from being comfortable. It was only after you’d moisturized and turned to leave the room that Rintaro caught your wrist, glancing down at you with a pleading expression.

“Please. Can we stop fighting? I thought today was fun. Let us not end it hating each other.”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I ruined your precious day,” you snapped, leaning back to examine how he missed a spot below his jaw. A slight stubble was visible, but you had to stop your hand from reaching out to him. You sighed. “All this space in the Palace and they couldn’t give us separate bathrooms?”

“Traditionally, royal married couples slept in separate rooms. Everything was separate, too, including bathrooms,” he gestured around you, “Perhaps you would’ve liked the old ways.”

Screw it. The small talk is the most awkward thing you have ever experienced.

“…You missed a spot,” you finally mumbled, taking his razor from him and gesturing for him to crouch down so you can reach. “Do you want me to finish it?”

Rintaro, despite his surprise, nodded and obeyed. It must have been uncomfortable for him to slouch, but he did so without complaints. He let you shave him as you saw fit, turning his head side to side, lathering on more foam, and you watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Eyes fluttering close, Rintaro sighed, the tips of his fingers gingerly tracing circles as they laid beside your hips.

“You will take the bed as discussed,” he reminded, “You will not argue with me on this.”

“Okay,” you answered, because you, too, had no energy for more arguments. Once you were done with him, you wiped off the rest of the foam with a warm, wet towel. You both left the bathroom and went your separate ways – you to your king–sized bed, and him just outside the bedroom and into the lounge room, where you spent the past few nights sleeping. You realized he must not be sleeping well from it because of his large frame, yet Rintaro did not seem to mind.

Just as he was about to close the door, he lingered for a few beats.

“Thank you for going along the happily married couple act today,” he said, lifting his gaze from the carpeted floors to gaze into your eyes. “And for the record, I meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

Then he turned, and swiftly closed the door, leaving you to be with your thoughts – all filled of him.

It didn’t help that the sheets and pillows still lingered with his scent.

You had your upcoming ball to thank for distracting you from your confusing feelings for your husband. That in itself was such a ridiculous statement, but one that ringed true. After Rintaro’s surprising gentleness, and the revelation from Maiko that he hadn’t spoken at all with Iris, you were now in a dangerous zone called Getting Your Hopes Up. Truly, you should know better. You had known Rintaro for years to know he could be effortlessly charming. He could have you wrapped tight around his finger, smiling like a lovesick fool, only for him to break your heart once more.

If not for that cold, hard truth, you would have invited him to bed with you that night. It seemed too tempting. It felt like the right thing to do. But you didn’t, and you were glad you held back on your desire, because you weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak.

Especially because these past few days made you realize one thing – that you were still in love with him. The next morning, you found yourself wishing you had woken up next to him, and that was enough to make you avoid your husband all over again. And much to your disappointment, Rintaro stopped trying to chase after you, too, after countless rejections on your part. He had kept his distance, and only spoke with you momentarily when you arrived at your mother’s ball and had to exchange niceties with everyone.

After that, your husband excused himself and spoke with his brothers, but not after your parents couldn’t stop cooing at how adorable you and the Crown Prince were. He handled it with grace; kissing your cheek and thanking them for raising such a wonderful daughter. But the moment your parents became occupied with welcoming other guests, you were now left to entertain the other women in the ball.

Until the music began playing.

Until your song reverberated all across the room.

“This is the song you and the Crown Prince danced to the night you met,” your mother whispered beside you, giggling in your ear. “I requested it specifically for this night. Enjoy the dance with your husband. He’s already waiting.”

True to her word, you could feel Rintaro’s heated gaze on you from across the room. He’d stopped speaking with his brothers – the twins smirking beside him, Akaashi smiling at you softly, Tobio waving enthusiastically while nursing a glass of wine, and Kita firmly hovering from the walls with a concerned frown. Not that you paid attention to them. Your gaze was held by your husband and him only, bewitched as he started walking forward. The crowed parted for him like a true Prince until nothing stood in his way. Everyone smiled, giggling behind their gloves at the apparent ‘romance in the air.’ Beside you, your mother pushed you encouragingly, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, waiting to see if you would take the Crown Prince’s outstretched hands.

“My love,” he whispered above your gloved hands, and your heart skipped a beat. He didn’t call you Princess, or Your Highness. You knew it was for the sake of keeping appearances, but by the Gods, you loved him. You were so hopelessly in love with your husband that you placed your heart in his hands once more, silently pleading with him not to break it as he led you in the middle of the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your hand resting on his shoulder as naturally as his arms came to your waist. The exact same movements from the night you first met, with the same song, but with your love for him stronger tonight than it did when you first laid your eyes on him.

This time, you danced as man and wife, and you recalled his words from the other day.

How there were moments it seemed so simple – where there were no titles, just you and him, having this dance like it was the most natural, inexplicable thing in this world.

The chord struck. The crowd parted. He took the first step in the dance, and you took a step back. Not once did you tear your gaze away from him, happily drowning in the depths of his hazel eyes you could look at forever. And isn’t that what you’d always wanted? To spend a lifetime with him, to grow old together. It would have been so easy if it weren’t for –

“Don’t think about anything else,” your husband shook his head lightly, “Just enjoy this moment. Tonight, there is only you and I.”

“Okay,” you found yourself nodding, and his grip on your waist tightened for a second. “Just you and I.”

Rintaro’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “Just you and I.”

You and him in those moments – you felt immortal. Like nothing could stand in your way. Or perhaps you could die tonight, and you would die happy. Because you were in your husband’s arms, and he was looking at you and only you, murmuring how you were becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day. You were melting in his arms, like goo. Like pudding. And he was strong enough to catch you, to brush his nose against yours at each dip, or letting his lips linger on your forehead each time you came back to him with each spin.

But happy moments never lasted long enough, and soon the rotations were beginning. More couples have joined the dance floor. Through one spin, you caught sight of Tooru and Maiko. Neither of them looked happy, but Tooru visibly brightened when he caught your eye, and shamelessly winked. On the other side of the room danced Iris and Kiyoomi, with the latter looking so nauseous you worried dinner would be spilled on your mother’s floor. And then too soon, Rintaro’s hands were leaving yours as he moved to the nearest dance partner, and you were caught by a pair of strong, muscled arms.

“My turn,” Tooru teased, a grin now on his handsome face as he nudged his head in Rintaro’s direction. He was now dancing with your mother, and you could tell, even from this distance, the smile he wore was genuine. “Should I beat him up?”

You chuckled, throwing your head back. Despite his jokes and jabs, Prince Tooru was a surprisingly great dancer – less stiff than Rintaro, and more confident in his receiving when you spun and dipped. But dancing with him did not feel the same. There was no passion, no yearning, no longing – just the lighthearted air of good humor and his calming nature.

“I don’t think beating the Crown Prince up would be a very wise decision.”

“Indeed, but I was never the Prince known for making wise decisions. That would be more Shinsuke’s forte,” he snorted, and the song reached a part for another rotation. However, Tooru refused to let you go and intentionally spun you away from what was supposed to be your next dance partner. Out of shock, you slapped his chest, and his broad chest rumbled with laughter.

“Your Highness! That was unbelievably rude!”

“As I have said,” you both laughed when he spun you again, “I am not the Prince known to be socially adept.”

You bent over in giggles, your head resting on his chest as you danced more throughout the night. Your feet were getting tired, but your mother was right – this was a night to enjoy. You danced to your heart’s content, exchanging jokes with the handsome Fifth Prince until you craned your neck to the side, only to be stopped by Prince Tooru’s large hand. This time, he no longer smiled as he gazed upon the dancing partners behind you, and your skin turned cold.

You had a feeling you knew exactly why.

“Don’t look. You won’t like what you’ll see.”

Nodding, you pursed your lips and forced a smile at him. “It’s okay, Princess,” he comforted, “Just look at me. You need not concern yourself with others.”

So you danced, and danced, until you could hear your father pleading with the Fifth Prince to give his daughter back because he didn’t get a chance to have a dance with you yet. Reluctantly, Tooru handed you over to your father, but not without a faux frown.

“That was a lovely dance, Your Highness. I wish we could’ve danced more.”

“I think we danced enough.”

Tooru’s smile was guarded; secretive. “I’m afraid it was not enough.”

You danced with your father next. And it was lovely, seeing him up close with all his smile lines and wrinkles. You missed him so, dearly, and he felt the same way. It hurt having to lie to him when he asked how you were settling in the Palace, but you didn’t want to concern him with your personal matters, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with you if your father disliked Rintaro. So you swallowed your discomfort down and told him everything was great – silently wishing he wouldn’t pry further. He didn’t. And when the song slowed, your father kissed you on the cheek before letting you meet with your next dancing partner.

Stood in front of you was a great wall of what could only be described as majestic. Dressed in white with gold ornaments, Prince Kiyoomi’s curls framed his handsome face beautifully. You had been so accustomed seeing him in more comfortable clothing, and in the privacy of his own home, that seeing him out here in society, it reminded you that he, too, was a Prince.

The Second Prince – the would have been next King should Ushijima and Rintaro falter.

“My Prince.”

“Princess,” he bowed, taking your hand in his as you made your way back to the dance floor. The music played again, this time louder, and the Prince leaned down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. You repressed a gasp, unable to help yourself from digging your nails into his palm when you were greeted by how good he smelled – like mint, new leather, and pine. It also dawned on you how tall and firm the Prince was – perhaps taller and more muscular than Rintaro.

“Y–Yes, Your Highness?”

“Remind me to thank your mother for extending her invites to the forgotten Prince. Imagine my shock when I saw her invitation letter this morning.”

You chuckled nervously, thankful that he had now slightly tilted his head back. “I hardly doubt you are a forgotten prince.”

He snorted, effortlessly spinning you with one hand. “It’s not like I do my duties to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I truly was forgotten,” distracted by his scent, you unknowingly stepped on the hem of your dress and slipped backwards. A scream nearly tore out your throat when the Prince’s large hands cupped the small of your back, your chest pressed to his and his curls brushing against your cheeks as he held you close. “Careful.”

“Th–thank you.”

You were a mess after that. You were never the best dancer, but something about being in the older Prince’s presence made you extra nervous. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He simply danced with grace, and hid his grimace well each time you stepped on his toes. He had also convinced you to stop apologizing every time you did, and by the time the dance was over, you were more than ready to disappear.

“Thank you for the dance, my Prince,” you bowed, words hurried, “I shall see you–”

“Kiyoomi!” a woman appeared out of nowhere, her thick, dark curls pinned up beautifully with some loose strands swaying in time with her hips. She had the same moles as Kiyoomi, and you watched, entranced, as the older woman wrapped her arm casually around the prince. The two shared a silent conversation with their eyes before Kiyoomi glanced at you, and the woman followed his line of sight. “Oh! Your Highness. Greetings. I don’t believe I have introduced myself before – I’m Kanami; Kiyoomi’s mother.”

You smiled at her, politely taking her hand as she extracted herself from her son’s arms and taken to draping herself all over you. Discomfort must be written all over your face, because the Second Prince sent an apologetic smile your way.

“It is an honor to meet you, Miss Kanami. Are you enjoying the night so far? The travel all the way from Itachiyama must have been exhausting.”

“Oh, it was, but it’s all worth it now that we’ve met again!” she squealed, and you paled.

“We have met before?”

Just as she nodded and went about to retelling this so–called meeting, Iris popped up behind Kiyoomi, her smile stiff as she regarded Kanami. Instantly, your mood soured. She hadn’t spoken to you at all tonight, which you were thankful, but something about the thought of her dancing with your husband, and probably being suggestive while at it had your blood boiling.

“Mother! Such a shock seeing you here. I wasn’t aware you were invited.”

Kanami barely glanced her way, her dark, curious eyes still on your face.

“Hello, Iris, and it’s Miss Sakusa, dear,” she corrected, her enthusiastic smile momentarily fading into a scowl before it returned. “Say, Your Highness, since you’re still on your honeymoon period – and I’ve heard your dear husband is too busy these days – would you want to come visit Itachiyama with me? I would be honored to be your host. It will also be a great opportunity to learn more about your Princess duties and politics!” leaning closer, she whispered behind her gloves, although her words were loud enough to be heard by Prince Tooru and Iris. “Although if I will be honest, politics does not interest me in the least bit.”

Your mouth fell open and closed, unsure of what to say, until you settled on chuckling and patting her hand wrapped around your arm. “I… Thank you for invitation, Kanami. I am most tempted to see your beautiful country, but Princess Iris should be the one visiting her territory, should she not?”

Kanami scrunched her nose.“The Princess never grew up in Itachiyama. She would be just as clueless as you. Besides, I have always wanted to invite you over ever since you had Kiyoomi as your last dance on your eighteenth birthday!”

“He… was?”

“He was! Don’t you remember, dear?” she turned to Kiyoomi, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him already. But judging by his reaction, it seemed true – Kiyoomi was your last dance on your debut ball. “Well, in that case, I was always fond of you. I may be crossing the line here, but it was always a famous royal saying that whoever was your last dance on your debutante ball was your destined lover.”

#suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou angst #suna x yn #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #kiyoomi sakusa x you #suna x you #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #suna rintarō x reader #suna rintarō x you #series: dusk till dawn

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gildedoak · 2 days

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“Look darling - we’re trending!”

Happy Pride Month! 🌈

Fantasy High Junior Year on Dimension 20 was a WILD RIDE and I had so much fun! Happy to kick off Pride Month with these cutie patootie lesbian goddess wives. I love their color palette like OMGGG.

@caitmayart was such an inspiration this season with all her gorgeous art!

I’m hoping to do one full piece each week for the month featuring some of my favorite queer characters, since I won’t have the time to do daily art. BUT I am prepared for RadioApple Week and I’m still working on the Southern Comfort Food series!

Copics, gel pens, and washi tape from Notebook Therapy (Twilight Hour and Golden Hour collections)

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mochinomnoms · 3 days

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Reading that of adopted children, yeah, I agree with Kalim and Malleus. I REALLY doubt they could have adopted children. Specially Malleus, like, you are telling me the next heir is not blood-related to Malleus, I think Briar Valley views Draconians as gods I swear hqbahw-- anyway, having adopted children means they won't get Malleus magic capabilities, so that's a no-no. Besides, Malleus is an only child, who the heck can they turn to IF is not Malleus' heir?

BTW, if you are using a magicless Yuu/Mc... good luck with Malleus Xd I wouldn't dare put adopted children in that position, still. Especially adopted children. What a combination, tbh! 😂

With Kalim AT LEAST, they can say, "Oh, well, let's get one of his siblings' children as the heir."But even then, that's asking for even more problems @×@ because... who would be?! He has a LOT, and I would feel bad for his adopted children being looked down just for not being blood-related.

Anyway, Mc/Yuu has to either suck it up and look for another partner, one that isn't from high class or at least first in line of some high ranking position (I don't think would be that much of a problem with Leona, but then again, I still wouldn't do it, just in case). That or simply have their children, lmao.

I think that with Malleus, they are able to have the kid via magic. Mild Chapter 7 spoilers but I believe that the egg and it's growth are attributed to magic and love. I think that potentially Malleus could create the egg and pour magic into it while Yuu could pour love into it (I'm sure it senses like the vibes or something).

The last ask was specific to adoption so I didn't mention it, but the thing is that surrogates and IVF are options for same-sex couples or infertile couples, or couples who don't want to be pregnant themselves for any reason. It wouldn't be that complicated to just do that for either of them, and the issue of bloodlines wouldn't be a concern.

The main issue I think would come up is that people sometimes don't consider adopted or stepkids as "true" members of a family because they're not blood related. But that's not the case at all, they're still family no matter what they say and with Kalim and Malleus, it would really come down to them setting their foots down to protect their families.

I also think that they wouldn't let something like other people's issues with adoption get in the way of their relationship. Both of these characters strike me as extremely devoted lovers, they'd put their spouse and their needs above everyone else. If their spouse doesn't wish to carry a child for whatever reason, then they will make it work.

The only issue would come if the spouse doesn't want kids, as both Kalim and Malleus also strike me as people who really want kids. If you don't want kids, and that's a hard ass line, then there might be a dilemma. Even in Kalim's case, where I strongly believe polygamy is accepted in his home (his father must have multiple wives for him to have over 30+ children...I refuse to believe that a single birth giver did that) if you don't want kids at all would still cause some strife, because you can't just ignore his kids from your other spouses. Otherwise, I don't think there would be any issue.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia #kalim al asim #malleus draconia x reader #kalim al asim x reader #i think we might be making it more complicated than it actually needs to be #if bloodlines are a big enough issue for them to not want to adopt then surrogates are available and tube babies #for lack of a better word anyway but i have a friend who was conceived via ivf and it's very expensive but thats not an issue with these tw

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fuckyeah-dragrace · 3 days

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EXCUSE ME WHAT

WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME MOTHERS WERE SERVINGGHGHHHH

#the hottest wives ever #I fucking love them so much #if you guys could see how my mouth dropped when i opened insta #AIDJCOFOWMDOCK #am actually feral for them #jackie cox #jan sport #jankie

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depravitycentral · 20 hours

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I don’t know if this appeals to anyone but me, but I’ve been watching a lot of period pieces about Regency Era England (specifically the 1995 Pride and Prejudice and Bridgerton) and I can’t stop thinking about the way women were actually treated like property, their only purpose to wed and produce children. Imagine the yandere possibilities, and the absolute lack of control you’d have over your fate.

Specifically, I can’t stop thinking about the lack of care and the disregard for social customs and norms yanderes could exhibit in that era. The rules are so very strict, and so very numerous – really, can he be blamed for not adhering to each and every one? Sure, he doesn’t treat any other woman this way, but is it such a crazy notion that he breaks a rule here or there? Surely not – not when it’s so very obvious that the proposal is coming, that he’s absolutely hell bent on keeping you pristine and pretty and pregnant in his own abode, not the pathetic pile of wood and roofing you call your home.

Maybe he’s always been one for attending the local and regional balls – for appearances, yes, but also because there’s nothing more that he loves than being in a room with all sorts of beautiful women and alcohol. Maybe he likes to play the politics game, stringing along every girl he can find so that he gets his pick of wives, so that he can bed any woman he so pleases without as much as a goodbye. Except that once his feelings for you form, his composure crumbles a bit.

He’s standing much, much too close to you throughout the entirety of your dance with him. His hips are tightly pressed against your ass as he follows the 1, 2, 3 of the waltz, the shuddering breath you hear at your ear making your skin crawl.

Maybe he’s insisted on keeping his hand much too low as he guides you through the dance, almost able to feel the hem of your underclothes under the layers of your dress, his fingers eager as he presses them tighter and tighter against you.

He’ll speak to you during the dance, his voice low and whispered and his mouth much too close to your ear, the audible wet sound of him licking his lips seeming louder than the quartet in the corner of the dancefloor.

He’s even asking you to remove your gloves, won’t you? I wouldn’t want to ruin the delicate silk – what would your dear mother think of me? And once they’re off (because really, his tone left very little room for rebuttal), his bare skin is pressing against yours, his palms clammy and sweating and absolutely engulfing yours with the way he keeps grabbing at more more more, wanting to feel every inch of you possible.

And then of course there’s those who aren’t as bold with physicality – no, the mere thought of being any closer to you than society permits is enough to get them hot under the collar, so nervous and flustered that they’re sure they’ll trip over themselves, that they’ll make an absolute fool in front of you. Instead, they resort to more classy measures – that is, it’s a bit jarring when they quickly approach you the moment you’ve entered the ballroom, swallowing harshly and asking in a voice that’s just a hair too high-pitched if they could perhaps have the honor of claiming your first dance this evening?

You can’t exactly say no – and even as you watch him eagerly scribble his name down on the first dance slot, then the second, then the third and fifth and tenth, what can you really say? He’s wealthier than your family, and your mother watches from the corner with a glint in her eye because oh, isn’t this just such an advantageous match?

Even the grouches who only attended the ball in which they met you upon a friend’s request act out in unexpected ways. They seem distracted, clutching onto their lemonade glass with a grip tight enough to turn their knuckles white, their shoulders visibly tense as their eyes scan the room over and over. They’re looking for you, of course. Mentally guessing at what colors you’d be donning this evening, how your hair is styled, what sorts of jewels and precious jewelry sits so prettily in the hollow of your throat or dangles against the sensitive skin of the juncture of your neck and jaw.

And once they've found you, they may not have the courage to speak with you or dance with you. But suddenly you've gained a permanent shadow for the evening. Where you go, he goes. He’s following you a good five feet behind, snaking around fellow attendees and keeping his eyes locked on your figure, biting his lip as he mentally notes who’s eye you’re catching, who’s speaking with you, who’s approaching you with a request to dance.

He’s standing directly behind you as you dance with some low-level baron, some insignificant man who can’t hold a candle to the riches, comfort and adoration that he can give you. And he's just staring, too – eyes like daggers as he watches the interaction, letting the anger simmer and fester until he finally, finally approaches you, his voice gruff and choppy as he compliments your dress (something like this dress is much more handsome than the last one you wore) and practically demands your next dance. Yes, it’s awkward, and yes, he leads far, far too much.

But really, the truly terrible thing to think about is what happens after the ball – when they call upon you in the sanctity of your own home, all sorts of love declarations falling from their lips that are much too hyper specific and draw upon knowledge you know you’ve never shared with him. But you must be kind; he’s of higher rank, after all, in a position where a few bad words could ruin your family forever.

It’s just that when he drops to one knee and proposes, it’s difficult to remember your delicate position because he’s managed to find the ring of your dreams, and he’s going on about how he’s had your bedchamber already decorated to fit all your tastes, how he has a wardrobe full of new dresses he’s had custom-fit to you, how he’s already decided that you’re to have a son first, but then all daughters and you’ll name them James, Eleanor, Kathryn, Marta…

And as he embraces you, the hug either much too tight or much too stiff, it’ll feel like a cage locking into place around you. Because really, what can you do? If you try to fight him, he has the wealth and connections to force your family into consenting. And even if your parents refuse to hand you off to a man you clearly despise and fear, it’s not so difficult to spread the rumors about your purity, to claim that he’d witnessed a servant passionately embracing you, that he’d seen you naked in the arms of some butcher’s boy…

It’s your word against his, and oh, isn’t he so kind for still having you after your reputation’s been destroyed? Isn’t he so dreamy and chivalrous for saving you from a life of destitution and outcast? Even if he’s the one to blame for that life in the first place?

And he’ll be so good to you, he promises. He’ll explain each and every aspect of the wedding night, of the consummation of a marriage, showing you exactly how deeply he’s been desiring you, how long he’s been craving you, how many times he’s fucked his fist and been thinking of you you you in those tempting dresses you wear, of those hips that you sway and move like a fucking minx at every dance you attend…

He’ll leave you wanting for nothing – aside from perhaps your freedom, and perhaps your sanity. But he’s sure you’ll learn to love him.

You must, after all.

Specifically the image of a few characters in the traditional regency dress is making me feral - imagine Aizawa, who's known as the reclusive Duke of the area, his public appearances next to none and his temperament difficult to handle. But alas, what's this? A few snarky comments from you - also standing against the ballroom's wall - about the ridiculousness of women's fashion and the discomfort of dancing in heels has him chuckling a bit, your obvious lack of knowledge of his position making him feel oddly seen. And when you find yourself falling into his company at the next ball he's forced to attend, Aizawa decides there's something particularly agreeable about your smile - finding himself wanting to know if your lips taste as good as they look. And when he loses his composure and blurts these words out, don't expect him to cut off contact with you - instead, he'll immediately speak with your father, requesting your hand in marriage and hoping that in time you might learn to forgive his dismissal of your opinion. Perhaps a child would help distract you, yes?

Imagine Rengoku, who's introduced to you by the ball's hostess, Shinobu. Imagine Rengoku, who immediately dances with you and keeps returning to fill up your dance card, that smile blinding as he spends the evening on the dancefloor by your side. Imagine Rengoku, who calls upon you everyday after first meeting you, his visits growing in frequency - sometimes multiple a day - and duration as the weeks drag on. Imagine the way he'll end each visit by grasping your hand in his and giving it a much-too-long kiss, assuring you that it's only taking this long for him to propose to and wed you because he's having an entirely new manor built - one he thinks you'll like a bit more. Nevermind that you don't wish him to continue his visits or leave you alone - do you like floral or patterned wallpapers more?

Imagine Akaashi, who's every woman's dream for both his looks and status. Imagine the way he holds you so delicately as he twirls you, those steel eyes of his practically cutting into you, his mid-dance questions starting off simple and innocent and slowly morphing into something that feels like an interrogation, something that feels too intimate and demanding and strange. Imagine the way he grasps onto your wrist - still gently but firm enough to eliminate your escape - as he guides you towards the refreshments table, insisting that you absolutely must drink something because he's noticed you haven't drunk anything since you arrived nearly an hour ago. But don't mention the fact that you didn't meet until roughly twenty minutes ago - long after you'd walked through the front doors.

Imagine Chrollo, who manages to charm his way into getting you alone with him on the balcony, those dark eyes smoldering as he compliments you. There's something stiff and rehearsed about it, and as you snort and ask him how many women he seduces in a night's work, something clicks in his brain. Imagine the way he doesn't leave your side for an instant after that, glued to your hip and seamlessly managing to evade each and every potential suitor from approaching you. Imagine the way he begins inviting you for long stays at his rather luxurious home, conveniently placing your bedchambers beside his own, spending night after night with his ear pressed against your shared wall and biting his lip as he fists his cock to the sound of you humming to yourself and washing your face with the pale of lukewarm water he'd used first then had the servants bring to you.

#_lee rambles #yandere hxh #yandere haikyuu #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere kny #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer #_hxh #_kny #_haikyuu #_bnha #_lee's regency au

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 11 hours

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I'm up way later than I need to be and listening to music while I draw and this song gives me SUCH Sabo feelings and I would love to hear your opinions!! (Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives)

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Y07xArvIvjw&si=ffMbMHTWuHHnxY2C

You dare bring. The Crane Wives. Into this peaceful household.

Never Love an Anchor no less.

RELATING THE SONG TO THE BLORBO FROM MY SHOW NO LESS

The audacity.

Anyway.

youtube

Yeah it makes me think about how Sabo left Ace and Luffy on his own accord at the end. Of course it was a last resort but he left them because he knew that this was the only way for them all to be free.

He left knowing that he would probably not see him until they were 17. Or maybe even never again.

He left them so that they could be safe. Because as long as long as he was with him, as far as he could see, hands would still try to claim him, resulting in the ones he loves getting hurt.

There was no winning for Sabo or any of them. As long as he tried delaying the inevitable, it just never would have happened.

He had to give up what he loved so he could keep it.

And then after he regains his memories, him thinking how much he’s changed. His claws might hurt the one he loves so dearly, even though at this point he doesnt even know him anymore. What if when Luffy finds out that he was alive, it only hurts him deeper. Knowing that there was someone who would have made a difference that day wasnt there. Reliving not only that day in the moment of reuniting, but the say he lost Sabo, too.

I dont find it strange that Sabo didnt try to reunite with Luffy until dressrosa. And in fact i think that reuniting with luffy is something he did as an absolute last resort. I think he truly didnt want to meet him that day at all.

In the anime alone, it doesnt much show it, but in the manga and the Episode of Sabo his hesitance and nerves are really clear to me. He takes a second before he starts walking to talk to luffy. His hand is clutched and shaking. He walks as slowly as he can. And also he only does it after he knows that Luffy cant get the fruit.

They both need that fruit safe. An heirloom of their precious brother, the only thing they have left that can life on from him.

If Luffy could’ve finished that tournament, im fairly certain Sabo would’ve never revealed himself.

I think he feels like he might hurt luffy if he did, but i also think that he didnt feel he deserved it. To reunite with Luffy after all that time. After all that happened.

Going back to the song, the lyrics

“So, I did the only thing that i could And severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor.”

Even though it was Sabo who went sailing from the harbor, what he was doing was sever the rope from his connections with luffy and Ace so that they could grow and be free without worrying about being held back by him and the weight of his life keeping him suffocating at the bottom of the harbor he’s being drowned in.

If sabo had successfully left Goa that day, and he had reunited with Ace or Luffy somewhere down the line, i think he would act the same way he did in dressrosa that day. I think he would feel his baggage is too much, someone could be after him. And he wouldnt want to reunite. Especially after how he left them.

To me, that letter didnt read as a “i hope i see you again”, but a “goodbye forever”. Which i mean,,,, it was one, at least in Ace’s case, so … 🤷‍♀️ kill me

Anyway, the sentencing of your crimes of Crane Wives-ing me will be capital punishment, i hope you understand.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask reply #@silkentine #music recs #sabo #asl brothers

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themysticmango23 · 1 day

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Saw your post Abt needing something to draw soo

Empires Season 1 flower husbands or S2 nature wives? Please? (Dw if u can’t btw. Idk how to ask ppl these 😭✋)

I love drawing esmp1 Scott so much, and these two deserve the world <3

#flower husbands #solidarity fanart #smajor fanart #esmpblr #esmp s1 #empires smp #empiressmp #mcytblr #mcyt #fanart #art #art requests

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somin-yin · 2 days

Text

Saraswati romance >

I'm living for all this forbidden angsty dark murderous wives trope, I'm telling you! and what better way to start pride month but with dark sapphic romance asdfghjkl ❤️

"Sometimes I feel as if someone else lives inside my body" Alexa play Oshiete Oshiete 😂 (those are literally the lyrics of that song XD) okay let's get serious again (in all seriousness the lyrics fit tho 😂 okay okay I'll stop)

I don't mind, I like my women dangerous and deranged 🤷‍♀️

HHHHHHHHH seriously living for this trope of "I'm too dangerous for you so I have to get away" sorry I'm crazy

"I'll care just as much about the darkest possible side of you. Just don't hide it from me" That's so intense and intimate and true love is acceptance so that's true love my honour ❤️

This is giving me serious "I can fix her" vibes and I'm all here for that 😂

Listen, I support women's rights but above all, I support women's wrongs and I can't help but liking my women insane so this is definitely my jam 🤷‍♀️😂

And the cherry on top is Devi potentially becoming just as dark and murderous as Sara so they can be dark murderous deranged wives together hhhhh how delicious ❤️ to say I'm invested would be an understatement!

#deranged women >#I support women's rights but also women's wrongs #rc saraswati #hhhhh #romance club #rc #kali flame of samsara #kali: flame of samsara #saraswati basu

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thisonehere · 2 days

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OMG I HAVE SUCH ANGST IDEA

HOW ABOUT WRITING OF RUIN JOHNNY&SONYA MARRIAGE, AND HOW JOHNNY FOUND CONSOLATION WITH KENSHI AND HOW JOHNNY HAVE PROBLEMS WITH ACCEPTING HIS FEELINGS FOR A MAN

IF HE AFRAID JUDGMENT AND REACTION OF HIS EX WIFE, FRIENDS, DAUGHTER

OMG ITS SO BADLY AND PAINFUL 😰

Omg, I love it 😭

Blindsided

A/n: Aw yes, Johnshi, the superior Cage ship (sorry CageBlade shippers out there, please don't rip my head off). Anyway, I kept it vague on which timeline this takes place in. Now, let the agnst -filled torturing of these characters commence!

Tags: Request, Mk, MK AU, Ship: Johnshi, angst

C/w: Bed rotting, mlm, internalized homophobia, angst (when I say angst I really mean it), alluding to possible self harm, self loathing, grief, poor hygiene

Johnny and Sonya had the picture perfect marriage. They were crazy for each other, travelled the world togethe, and lovingky raised their daughter to a total baddasss. Truly, everything is perfect...or at least that's what Johnny wants people to believe. The false reality he created on social media, the illusion of the life he wanted but could never have.

The truth? Their marriage was dying, or had already been dead the moment they said "I do." Johnny loved Sonya with all his heart, but he could feel their marriage crumbling apart just by looking at her eyes. Her eyes were neither scorn nor adoration, there was just...indifference. it was worse than anything else she could give. He could deal with disdain, he could deal with bad reviews and hate online, but not apathy. That means it's over, that there's no more fighting.

They did get into a lot of arguments, though even were stiff and lifeless. A lot of times over nothing, Sonya because she found annoyance in the slightest thing he does, Johnny because, well, because he just wanted to feel something. He didn't care that it was hatred, he just wanted to feel some form of passion from her. Often he lies awake next to, though she's present Johnny might as have been alone. He was so cold and alone that he swore that if he looked at her side of the bed she'd be gone.

When they first met Johnny, things seemed amazing between the two, there was so much passion between them Sure Sonya didn't like him...a-and he did harass her a lot until she finally agreed to date him...but surely they had love at some point...right?

"Baby, wait, please!" Johnny cried as he chased after Sonya down the stairs. "What did I say about calling me that?" Sonya rolled her eyes as she march down the stairs to the door, where her bags were. Johnny's eyes widen in horror at the sight of it. This can't be happening, it just can't. She can't be leaving, not now, not after everything they've built together. They made a home, raised a daughter to become a badass, and protected earthrealm countless times.

"You can't seriously be leaving me!" He says as he finds the speed to jump in front of her in hopes of blocking her path. He tried to flash his ever charming and charismatic. Maybe acting the way he used to would bring something back. But Sonya just rolled her eyes and pushed past him. "Look, Johnny, I can't...I can't just do this anymore." She tried to articulate, she wasn't the best at romance. She was actually terrible at it. Possibly another reason for this reason this relationship couldn't work.

"Bab-Sonya...please, just talk to me." He voice is more desperate now. Sonya can't leave, she just can't, she means so much to him. He has had many wives over the, many of them only lasting only, for what, like a month? Johnny wasn't too bothered by most of them, he had already checked by the time they ended. But with Sonya, he wasn't ready, he still wanted this work. But as he stared into her eyes, he saw the same look that he had when he was done. "What about Cassie? She-"

"Cassie's old enough now that she can handle it."

Dammit, she's right. At this point Johnny was pulling at straws to get her stay. But nothing was working. "Look Johnny, I'm sorry. But I can't do this anymore...I don't...uh..." Love you, Johnny finishes in his head. Sonya didn't mean to hurt, but that didn't mean she wasn't. "Sonya..." Johnny tried to reach out to her, but she backed away. "I'm sorry." And with that, she turned, grabbed her bags and walked out the doors. Johnny watched in horror as she gave one him last look as she closed the door behind her.

The next few weeks were hell for Johnny. Many grew worried for him when less and less was seen of him. Many of his fans were going into a frenzy as they speculated about what happened to him, maybe he was planning a major surprise, a new secret project perhaps. But the reality was that he couldn't even build up the strength to get out of bed.

Many of his up and coming projects were delayed or even cancelled. Cassie filled his phone with hundreds of missed calls. If she was even able to reach him, he'd give the same "Everything's fine, I'm just feeling a little sick" bullshit excuse. She knew that the divorce would have a negative effect on it, but she didn't know it would be that bad. She herself was hurting because of her parents splitting, but it made her even worse to see how badly he'd been effected.

If she could only see her father right now, oh the ways she'd be devastated. He shifts unfortunately in his bed, trying to find some form of comfort, but rest evades him at every turn. He hasn't showered, he hasn't even changed out of the clothes he wore that horrible day. He hasn't eaten much, his breath stank of alcohol, his eyes died red with tears.

Each day since Sonya left him has been more painful than the last, this day was no exception. Johnny got out of bed, with a painful moan, he stretched and then went into the kitchen. Not to find food, but to drench his throat with more expensive liquor. He rummaged through the collection of wine he had grabbed from the wine cellar a few days prior, already almost everything was gone, save for a few expensive wines. The one he pucked was just an ordinary seeming red wine, but it was the same wine he and Sonya picked up during their honeymoon away in some country maybe an entire realm. It was something he wanted to share with Sonya on their wedding anniversary. But now he needs it to console him for they're divorce.

He downed it straight from the bottle with a hopeful gulp. Maybe this would numb he pain, make the hole inside of him full. Or at least make him forget the state his heart was reduced to. It wasn't shattered, it just felt gone, it left With Sonya the day she walked out the door.

He was alone now, the house echoed at each gulp he made, its walls vibrated with the echoes of him throwing the bottle in a moment of blind fury. "FUCK" He finally exerts, he throws almost every last thing he sees in any direction he can. It all shatters as Johnny fell to his knees and began to sob.

Oh God...he's alone. No one is here for him. Cassie, Jax, and all his other friends are miles away, (or at least that's what it feels like.)

Why, Johnny wonders, why is (the) God(s) so cruel? Why would they leave me like this? Why would they make him be alone, unloved and un

*knock*

Johnny's ears piped up at this, his head jerked and his eyes darted to the direction of the door. Who could that possibly be?

----

Why am I doing this? Kenshi wandered to himself as he banged on Johnny's front door. He and Johnny were friends, they worked together to protect Earthrealm, and went on countless adventures with each other , yes, but they haven't spoken in so long. Something had happened between the two, a rift formed that pushed Kenshi away from him. Sonya, the left was Sonya, or Johnny's interest in her to be precise

Kenshi didn't take this pairing seriously at first, after all, Sonya hated Johnny and Johnny couldn't take a hint. The likelihood of the two being together was so unlikely, the mere concept of it filled Kenshi with a strange bitter and angry feeling. Kenshi hated when Johnny flirted with Sonya, he hated the way Johnny looked at her, he hated the way she began to return his gaze, he just hated it all. He didn't know why but he just did. Perhaps it was because of this hatred that caused him and Johnny to fall apart. They hadn't spoken much since the wedding, but when he heard about the divorce and how badly it hit him, he couldn't help but feel sorry for him. The image of him languishing in agony in his bed, his face soaked with tears. For some reason the image of him being in pain hurt him for some reason.

So now he's here, at Johnny's door with a box of chocolate. Why the chocolate? He didn't know, it felt wrong to come by empty handed, and bringing chocolate felt right. This is a breakup he's dealing with, so why not?

As he waited for Johnny to open the door, he felt his hands getting sweaty. He felt...nervous for a reason. Why? He's coming here to check on Johnny, it's not like he's coming to ask him on a date.

His ears immediately picked when he heard hurriedly footsteps come to the door, no doubt Johnny was hoping it might have Sonya at the door. The door swings open and Johnny's head pops out. Kenshi didn't need to see to know that Johnny had a giant and hopeful smile on his face. He truly thought he'd see Sonya at his door.

"Kenshi..." The disappointment sinks in. His voice was low and hoarse, no joy or at could be heard. Only a returning sadness. No quips, no puns, or any other usual Cage annoying charm. Johnny sounded drained, lifeless. No doubt he looked that way as well. Kenshi's heart sank at this, actually witnessing Johnny in this state hurt him a greater deal then he expected. "I-uh-I brought you chocolate." Kenshi spouts abruptly as he hands Johnny the box.

"Uh... Thanks." He awkwardly accepts the box with a nod. "I-It's caramel. Well, milk chocolate and some other flavors, b-but mainly caramel." This is weird, Kenshi thought, why am I so nervous?

"Listen, I heard what happened between you and Sonya." At that second, Kenshi felt Johnny's shoulders slump down and his already fragile spirit collapsed even further. "And I heard how hard it's been on you. I just came to check on you and see how things were going, if you were alright."

"Yeah..."

"Cassie's worried about you."

"I know."

"We're all worried about you actually."

"Oh...o-okay."

God, this was so awkward between the two. Kenshi never was good at handling situations like this, but he has to. He has to help Johnny. "Do you want to talk about? I'm here for you if you want...you know...talk. N-Not just about the divorce, j-just anything in particular." At this moment, Kenshi's face blushes with embarrassment. He was fumbling his words. Hw just wanted to put his head into a hole and hide there forever.

It's not going to work, I messed up so badly.

"I'd like that. C-could we do it right now, actually?"

Well, what do you know? It worked.

---

"It hasn't been easy lately, it's actually been hell." Kenshi shifts unfortunately in the love seat he and Johnny sat on. The other couches were too messy to be sat so the two sat on this tiny couch, it was meant for him and Sonya but now Kenshi was taking up the other space.

"Out of all my marriages, I don't know, I thought this one would've worked. I loved her so much, the moment I laid my eyes on her, I thought about our whole future already." Johnny picked at the chocolate's in the box, hoping that maybe something in there might make him feel less bitter inside. He avoided Kenshi's face, he didn't know why, but something about him made Johnny shy. It's been like that since he first met him, he couldn't place this feeling for Kenshi, all that he knew is that he made him feel shy and Johnny didn't like that feeling.

Kenshi just sat there, listening attentively as if every word of his heartbroken rambling was the most important things in the world. This alighted the warmth inside of him, it made Johnny feel a little bit better, like he mattered or something. "I-I wanted it to work, god, I wanted it to work so bad. I thought everything was going amazingly, we had an awesome wedding, a literal god attended, we had a badass daughter who kicked another god's ass. We've had rough patches in the relationship, true, but I thought we'd work it out." Johnny felt cold inside again, he set aside the chocolate box, nothing in there would make him feel any better.

How....how did everything go to hell? He wondered. When he was with Sonya, the sky felt like it was the limit, things weren't perfect, but this wasn't that bad...right?

"Maybe it was always hell, your head was just too much in the clouds to notice." Kenshi said abruptly.

How did he...

'Telepath'

Right.

"A long time ago, I was in line with some bad people...but I thought everything was okay. I didn't care to notice the red flags, the warning sign, they all missed. Or I refused to notice them at least." Johnny shifted his seat this time. "And what's the point of this story?"

"I know how much you cared about Sonya, I wished you two had worked it out to" the words stung like poison in his mouth, "B-but maybe it just wasn't meant to be...maybe things weren't as perfect for Sonya as it was for you..." Johnny didn't say a single thing for a few moments, maybe he was still processing these words or maybe he heard them. but was in denial. Kenshi once again shifted in his seat. Finally Johnny gives a response, single tear.

"I just...I just wanted it to work. I wanted her to...to love me..." The tears grew heavier, his breath began to get shorter and shorter. "Why...why didn't she love me?" And at that moment, Johnny completely broke down. Tears rushed out of his eyes like a water faucet after it been turned on. He basically shrunk, reduced to a whimpering mess of snot and tears.

*Crack*

There it was, Kenshi's heart breaking. "Johnny..." He started, but he couldn't find the right words that would help him. Only his actions could help now. Without thinking, Kenshi lurched forward and gently wrapped his arms around Johnny, pulling him close in an embrace. "Hey..." Kenshi uttered softly under his breath, he hasn't done anything like since Suchin. He would hold her if she ever cried, which an often thing, so it made it all the more special when he did. It's strange to do so with Johnny, but it feels right. "I know...trust me, I know..."

Kenshi is taken by surprise as Johnny quickly wraps his arms around him, returning his embrace. Johnny's sobbing began to calm down as well as his whimpering and sniffles. Kenshi feels Johnny basically melt in his arms and he in Johnny's. And at that second, everything just felt right, like this is where they belonged...Kenshi lost himself in Johnny, and maybe Johnny did too.

In that second it felt like something clicked inside of both of them. Kenshi pulled back just little, just enough so that Johnny's faces could meet. They stared at each other for what felt like eternity. Before they stop to think, Kenshi's lips gently touch Johnny's. The whole world felt like new at that second, yet familiar at the same time. It felt like paradise as they sat there as they kissed, enjoying the warmth of the other...

But paradise ended as quickly as it started. Without warning Johnny rips away, a horrified look spreads across his, he stares at Kenshi with a disturbed as he realizes what just happened.

"Get out..."

"Johnny, I-"

"KENSHI, GET OUT!"

---

Okay, what the hell was that!? Johnny thought as he paced across the floor. His heart was racing a thousand miles, his head was spinning, this was all so hard to process. He-he and Kenshi…impossible. It can’t be, Kenshi’s a man! But he kissed him…and he-he liked it. No! Kenshi’s a man! Johnny, the renown ladies, can’t like men. He can’t be gay….c-can he?

No! He can’t! What would Sonya say? How would Cassie react? Jax, Kung Lao, Liu Kang, Raiden, what do they think? His fans, hell, Hollywood, what they all do if they find out that Johnny Cage kissed a guy? Ah yes, that's right, they'd think less of him, no longer will they have any respect or love for their once golden boy, they'll throw him to the side, a place where he is out of sight and out of mind.

He could just see it, his daughter and Sonya looking down at him in disgust. They turn their backs on him and he'll never see them again. All his friends distancing themselves farther and farther away, spewing venomous words behind his back.

Those great fears swirl around his head so great that everything starts to swirl, his feet feel weak and his head light. He collapsed onto his bed and tries to catch his breath and get his heart to slow down. He tries to think about everything through, surely he didn't even like the kiss. He was just in the heat of the moment and kissed Kenshi, he was so caught up in the moment and just did...and he liked it. Damn it.

---

"What did you do?" Cassie had finally managed to find a corner Kenshi. The poor man could barely get a word in. Cassie was in a frantic state, whatever happened between them mustn't have been good. It has been an entire month since the..."incident". Johnny kept himself locked, but it seemed to be much worse this time. "You said you'd help him but now he not only blocked me, but also deleted all his social media accounts. HE deleted them! So tell me, what did you do?" He stood corrected. They all knew how much Johnny liked social media, the man was almost chronically online with how time he spent on those apps. Him deleting them was not a good sign. "Cassie, I....I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

Kenshi could feel his cheeks flush as he feels too flustered and embarrassed to explain. What was he supposed to say, 'Sorry Cass, me and your dad made out on his couch but then he freaked out and kicked me out. Sidenote, I'm in love with your dad.' Like that wouldn't be awkward.

"I...m-me and your father...something happened between...I-I can't tell you. But I-"

"* sigh* You know what, I'll just go see him myself."

"Cassie, wait-"

But Cassie bolts out the room slamming the door behind her, leaving Kenshi alone with his thoughts. And he hated it. His mind was reduced to a frazzled mess still after the whole month. He couldn't stop thinking about Johnny, about the Kiss, how he felt his heart broke when he told him to get out. But there was also relief inside of him. After all these years, everything finally made sense. He was in love with Johnny, god it felt so good to finally make sense of it. It was like a weight was lifted off of him. But it also hurts, he remembers when Johnny revealed that he and Sonya were getting married. Johnny excitedly described everything to Kenshi, the decorations, the seating arrangements, and most importantly the seat he saved for Kenshi. His heart sank at the news, it felt like he lost something and he'd never get it back. He didn't attend the wedding, he could just imagine it, Johnny staring at the empty seat in the front that was supposed to house his best friend.

He can't believe it, he's in love with Johnny. He feels like he's betrayed someone for feeling this way, like her hurt and used someone. He feels so disgusting inside because of this. He then thinks back to how Johnny basically rejected him, his heart is now broken. God, he's in so much pain right now. Not a wound or any kind of physical ailment, but in a place that no sword or gun could ever do.

"I'm sorry." Kenshi said under his breath, his breath getting heavy. "Johnny, Cassie, Sonya, Takeda...Suchin...Forgive me."

---

Today was another day where Johnny felt like crap. This day felt worse, he felt like he could barely move, it was a struggle to keep his eyes open. His skin felt dirty, his hair greasy and matted. He bet that if he got up and looked in the mirror he'd probably be horrified, his skin would pale and sickly looking, his body thin and frail looking, god just thinking about made him want to leave the bed less.

Kenshi.

The thought of him immediately rushes through mind without warning. It was an entire month and he still couldn't stop thinking about it. His lips were so soft, his arms were soft and warm and it felt amazing to be held by them, his smile was so cute, and he just good inside thinkimg of it. But this feeling always quickly fades as everything sinks back in.

He's gay-er-bi, he's excepted it, and he's never leaving the house again. He might as well, his family and friends will no doubt abandon him completely and refuse to ever see again. Kenshi probably already told them all and they probably hate him or they will if they ever find out. So decided to cut to the middle man just block them all and delete his socials, then waste away. Why not, who would possibly care about him?

*knock*

Kenshi.

The thought comes to his mind as soon as he hear the door being knocked on. He finds the energy to jump into a sitting position. He hasn't spoken or seen since he screamed at him to get out. Is he back? Johnny buries his face in the pillow, he doesn't want to see Kenshi right now. Before him all he had to worry about his divorce, now he realizes he gay and everyone he loves will probably judge him for being this way. He's too scared of what might happen if he opens that door...but he can't deny that he wants to see him again. When they kissed it felt like the world lit up for him, a magical moment that he can't forget. He felt things for Kenshi that he thought he could never feel for a man.

He keeps his face buried in the pillow. Nope, he thinks, after the way I treated him, I can't ever face him again.

*Knock*

Just stay here, Kenshi will away eventually.

*Knock*

Stay.

*Knock*

Stay here.

*Knock*

St-Oh what the hell?

And with that Johnny rips away the covers and jumps out of bed, races down down the stares to the door. He reaches for the door handle but then, he hesitates. He's sweating, was he always sweating? A nauseous feeling erupted in his stomach causing to back away from the door. Is this really the best idea? He can't seem to think of a single reason to open that door, this damn door that seemed to hold bad things every turn of the way. So he turns, beginning to walk.

"Dad!?"

Johnny hears behind the door. He stops in his tracks. No it can't be. "Dad, please, open up." It can. As Johnny hears his daughter calling to him, his heart sinks to another level. No, he can't face his daughter, out of all the people he fears losing because of all this, he fears losing Cassie the most. The image of Cassie looking at him in disgust plays over and over in his mind. He can't bare the thought of her hating him, that is something he fears hell never recover from. Something scarred might lead to him hurting himself.

"Dad, please, just talk to me." This time sounded more desperate, almost like she was about to break down into tears. Johnny's heart feels like it's about to rip out of his chest and shatter on the ground. The way she sounds so distraught, he can't stand the idea of just leaving like this, like the way Sonya left him. With that he balls up his fist, takes a deep breath and turn back to the door. As much as he doesn't want to do it, he has to fave her, he has to resolve this for Cassie's sake. If she hates him afterwards then he'll just have to deal with it.

"Dad!" Cassie's sigh in relief as Johnny finally opens the door. Her eyes widen at the star her dad has been reduced to. "Hey kid." Johnny forced a smile onto his face despite this, if his relationship with his daughter is going to go down in flames he might as well go with the classic Cage charm. "Long no see, finally come to see your old man?" Cassie stared at her father, "What the hell, dad?" She snaps. Though more out of worry than anger. "You go missing for almost two whole months, block me and everyone else, delete your entire presence online, locked yourself in your house and leave everyone worried. Again I ask, what the hell? Do you have any idea how scared I was? I-I thought something might've happened to you, that you...that y-you did something to yourself. That I'd never see you again..." Cassie's angry voice dissolves one within the brink of sobbing. She has tried to keep herself together for the longest, to stay strong for him, for her mom, all her friends and fellow soldiers. But she can't take it anymore and breaks down. "I was so scared. E-every time you hung up I-I was scared that it would be the last time I'd ever speak to you. I know that you and mom splitting would be hard on you, but that doesn't mean you can just lock me out. Lock us all out. I just want to be there for you!" Her eyes darted from this way to that all over his face, hoping to get some reaction from him. Just something, anything. Anything that would make losing her cool and crying like a baby and not the soldier she is worth it.

"Cassie..." Johnny eventually lets it, his smile fades as the tears find their way out of his eyes. "Cassie, I'm so sorry." He says, an apology with a double meaning. He opens his arms and with hesitation, Cassie rushes into them, squeezing the life out of him. It has been so long since he held his daughter, the last time remembered doing such a thing was when she was a little girl. Back to simpler times, when he thought everything was perfect, that there wasn't a single this wrong. How he wishes he knew the truth about himself back then, then it would've been easier to let her go after she learns the truth about him.

"What happened between you and Kenshi? D-Did he do something to you?" She asks defensively with a sniffle. Johnny takes another deep in and out. "Cass, I think you need to sit down for what I'm about to tell you..."

Johnny sat his daughter down, he cleaned off her favorite part of the couch just for this moment. He couldn't sit her in the love seat cause that was just wrong after everything that transpired on it. Cassie sat down quickly, not wasting time to continue her questioning on what happened with him and Kenshi. Johnny gulped hard and balled his fist tighter. So tighter he swore his nails might've stuck into his skin and caused him to start bleeding. With one last deep breath, he tells her everything. The meeting, the chocolate, the tears, the hugging, the kissing, how much he like it, everything.

Cassie just stared at him as he talked, she gave a visible reaction as he spoke which frightened him. Her being silent could not be a good sign. Well, this is it. He thought, any moment now she'll react, he'll scream at him and storm out of the door and out of his life.He closes his eyes and folds his hands together, tiny drops of blood drops from one of his hands, but he couldn't feel bothered enough to notice.

Cassie finally reacts, but she doesn't flip out, she just starts laughing. As you can guess, this is much to Johnny's surprise. Where's the look of disgust? The insults? The judgment? All he gets is laughter. "Whats do funny?"

"I'm sorry, it's just..." She tried to explain, but she changed from a sobbing mess to a laughing mad woman. "I was so scared he did something to you. I thought you were seriously hurt. Well you were hurt to some instant. Th-thank god!" She forced through her delighted chuckles, taking Johnny by surprise.

"You don't hate me?" He said, making sure he understood what was happening. He was really confused right now. "Hate you for what? For not being straight? This isn't the 90s anymore." She said, her laughing fit finally calming down as she looked at her father with a loving gaze he thought he'd lose. He smiles, but cries still. "I-I thought you'd hate me." He said, the tears getting greater. Cassie stops laughing looks at her father, her expression serious again. "Dad...I don't hate you. I could never hate you... you're father and I'll always love you no matter your sexuality, o-or your gender or whatever the hell you identify as." She smiles at her father, she looks him the eyes to let him know how much she means it, how much she loves. Without hesitation, he pulls her into a hug.

Overwhelmed, Johnny's tears grow heavier. "How-" he was stopped by a sniffle as he tried to keep contr and not crumble into mess of tears. "How the hell did I manage to raise someone like you?' He gleamed through tears. "If it's any consolation, I have done pretty awesome parents. An accepting dad and an open-minded mom...now wash up and call him."

"What?"

Cassie picked up his phone and handed it to him, Kenshi's number pulled up so Johnny could call him. "Call him. Mom already moved on and is happy, it's time you be happy too."

---

"Hello?" Kenshi picked up the phone confused. Who would be calling him this time of night? "Hey, Ken" a voice boomed happily across the other end. "Johnny? What do you-"

"I want you to come over." Johny said in his usual cocky manner, his confidence seemingly returned and was stronger than ever. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No jokes. Just you, me, and some sexual tension finally being relieved."

Johnny couldn't see it, but he could tell that Kenshi was smiling on the other end. "I'll be there in 20 minutes."

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 day

Text

medialog april 2k24

ok. sick day catch up part two

watched

monkey man - this was gnarly and fun and dev patel, quite simply the hottest man ever to live, is upsettingly hot in this film, like SO hot oh my fucking god

white room - this was a VERY weird movie that (as per the filmmaker q & a) totally flopped at a film festival and never received distribution... you can kinda see why but i more or less liked it. it's about a weird sheltered repressed dude who accidentally sees the murder of a mysterious pop star and then accidentally befriends and falls in love with the woman who was actually the reclusive songwriter and voice of the act... the filmmaker described it as a "journey through genres" and it was very artistically ambitious in a way that maybe didn't totally work but it had some really good stuff about art/consumption/fame/women (my jam) and it frequently looked gorgeous and also all of the mysterious/reclusive pop singer's songs were big late 80s/early 90s style upbeat synth-bombast numbers with lyrics taken from emily dickinson poems which is soooooo funny and a great idea

alien - this is like die hard in that if i'd seen it ten years ago i would not really have understood the hype but seeing after i had a backwards education in film by watching all of the mcu movies and developing curiosity about the question of why they were bad and ugly in such distinct ways and from there developing a nascent and unsophisticated appreciation of the filmic qualities of film i'm like, wow what an incredibly fucking well made movie!!!!!! some things in particular i liked were (1) no substantive backstory for anyone, no dark secrets except the one that really counted, no traumatic pasts, no explanation for how this world works or why anyone was here except needing a job, just giving us the bare minimum to understand the situation the characters find themselves in and trusting the story to do the rest (2) very good spaceshippy spaceship (another way it's like die hard is lots of great Texture, another thing that the MCU lacks which like many other MCU traits was actually a totally fitting design choice for tech bro billionaire tony stark in iron man but simply did not need to expand to Everything...) (3) sigourney weaver so good! ian holmes also very good (4) lots of suspense through silence which is one of the most lost of lost arts in the realm of big expensive Cool Shit Happens cinema!

roy cohn/jack smith - this was a filmed recording of two monologues performed by ron vawter, a gay actor who died of AIDS, each in the character of another gay man who had AIDS - the notorious roy cohn & the experimental cinema icon jack smith. i don't really have much to say about it but i feel very lucky to have seen it and vawter was incredible - i'm glad also that he happened to come to our attention a few months ago because he played the therapist in sex lies & videotape.

mad max: fury road - ok i kept putting this off because the way people talked about it on the internet frankly emphasized to an off-putting degree the ideas in this movie and did not adequately convey to me personally the most important thing about it which is that it Fucking Owns Lmao Wow. we happened to pause it for some reason like 50 minutes in and i swear to you i would have guessed 15, maybe 20 minutes had passed, that's how much it flies by... the coolest shit ever, i wanted to live there forever! also lottie yellowjackets is one of the wives????

mission: impossible 3 - the worst movie in the entire world. we only revisited this one as part of our ongoing marathon with some friends and we spent the whole time complaining about jj abrams' totally inept camera work... seriously watch this movie and look out for (1) every time an already fast sequence is torn up with a zillion stupid little cuts some of which actively prevent us from seeing something that could have been cool (2) every time we get to a new location and the camera starts aimlessly drifting to the side literally immediately because he's afraid we'll get bored if we sit in a location for one whole second (3) every time 3 people are having a conversation and the camera spends the whole time just purposelessly wafting back and forth side to side for, i cannot emphasize this enough, no reason at all. literally nothing in this, an installment of the Stuff Looking Cool franchise, looks even a little bit cool even one time. people hate on 2 for the male gaze of it all re: thandie newton but her character has more personality and agency than ethan's sexy lamp wife in this. the closest to a redeeming value this movie has is that it really feels like part of the goal was to remind everyone of how even though tom cruise jumped on that couch one time he's actually a very normal american heterosexual man (he passes out at one point and flashes back to his wife in her underwear sdksoeroser it's SO dumb) but because he's tom cruise (a total insane freak) he can't convincingly portray that at all and just comes across as insane and maybe a sociopath. "what about philip seymour hoffman" i'm not going to give abrams credit for knowing PSH was a good actor, that's like saying defending a doctor accused of malpractice by saying he knows that feet generally have toes. be serious. i will give a shout out to simon pegg, who is in this less than i remembered but who comes across as the MVP (across what should be a deep bench of a cast!) of making abrams' horrible comic-book-bro-patter come across as something a human might say, mostly so i can also share my friend's insight when i said that which is that it makes sense pegg is suited to the task given that he cut his teeth largely on movies that are parodies of shitty action movies.

mission: impossible - ghost protocol - a wonderful and perfect treat :) i've gone on at length about this one before and really have nothing left to say but it's so good and so specifically good at all the things 3 sucks ass at... my friend was physically squirming next to me on the couch during the burj khalifa sequence, as is right and proper :)

read

beautiful losers - this is a novel leonard cohen wrote in the 60s that is very weird and experimental and i'll be real with you and say i did not get it. it's about a guy whose wife and best friend he had a weird sexual relationship with are both dead and now he's kind of obsessed with an iroquois saint... i am not sure how to describe it but i guess i would say if you think the music of leonard cohen is too optimistic and insufficiently horny for you maybe you would like this. it is probably the most aggressively sexual book i've ever read but not in an erotic way... it's very like about the nastiness of sex and bodies... which i admire ideologically on a certain level but it's really quite unrelenting with it... occasionally there are snatches of deeply beautiful writing though.

listened

sourpatch, stagger & fade - nick put on the vinyl of this and i was like oh that sounds nice and i wound up listening to it a bit... fuzzy indie rock (i'm not educated enough to parse genres more finely than that) that makes for very pleasant background listening

ariana grande, eternal sunshine - i've never kept up with ariana because i just find her voice kind of annoying and i had never heard a song to challenge that UNTIL we reviewed "we can't be friends" at singles jukebox and ariana teaming up with max martin to do kidz bop body talk era robyn turned out to be everything i wanted from her... unfortunately the rest of the album was incredibly boring lol. love that song tho!

maggie rogers, don't forget me - i don't know that i find this one as interesting as her last album or quite as likable as her first (although that might be me somewhat overrating her first because i love "light on" sooooo much) but she's such a capital-M Musician she's always a pleasure to listen to. "drunk" was an early fave but recently i found myself returning a lot to "the kill"

girl in red, i'm doing it again baby! - girl in red comes a lot when other people are talking about the g*yl*rs as one of the actual queer artists they should support but first of all they actually love her and second of all i listened to this album twice straight through and have let some of the songs play on shuffle since and i could not hum you one single line :/

taylor swift, the tortured poets department - speak of the devil! i mean i've talked about this. i like this album a lot - at this point i'm ready to call it easily her best work except for maybe folklore, and honestly i find it hard to assess folklore out of what a special lockdown treat it felt like at the time. i don't expect a world insistent on calling 1989 pop perfection to eventually agree with me but i think people will mellow out about it in time and forget that it was so divisive on release much as has happened with reputation (an album far worthier of scorn if not without its occasional merits) and at the VERY least i think in like 5 years it will be more or less consensus that it's better than midnights.

the starting line, say it like you mean it - i listened to this album mostly to fact-check claims i was making about emo in the taylor swift piece but then i kept listening to it cuz it was kinda full of bops!

fall out boy, take this to your grave - @voidofcourse recommended this as a stepping stone from the starting line for loud guys offering bops and indeed it too was full of bops!

other

an enemy of the people - i saw this on broadway, yes, 1000% literally just because my boy my king my number one guy jeremy strong was in it. the production was interesting and good if not flawless, and although i think some of the younger cast members got a little lost in the old-fashioned theatrical language (even in a new translation) and could have used some direction towards really pulling out the meaning of individual sentences they were saying, the more seasoned actors all did a great job, including, of course, jeremy strong, who got to be shoved into a pit and have pretend ice thrown at him, i'm so happy for him. also the play was incredible? like as a play? i said as much here after seeing it but basically it's about this doctor who discovers that the town baths that are about to open have a contaminated water supply that is definitely going to result in people getting sick and some of them dying, especially since they are being advertised partly for their health-restoring properties for people who are already not doing well, and he's like, wow, good thing i caught this thanks to the help of science so we can change plans, and then everyone else in town is like, but have you considered that would be expensive? why do you hate poor people? (there's a thread specifically about the editor of the radical leftist newspaper going from being the doctor's number one champion to being totally coopted out of both politics and self-interest that was particularly brutal to watch...) like it was truly SO incredibly specifically relevant to some Extremely Contemporary Issues that i was just agog and also it was incredibly fucking upsetting to watch! really really great playwriting, such a clean example of how a work can best encompass & comment on ideas by developing them through character and dramatic action rooted in wants, needs, choices, conflict, etc., a lesson many people could stand to learn. i kept thinking it had burrowed as deeply into the core issues as it could and then it found another layer. this ibsen guy... he really knew some stuff about stuff....

#media 2k24 #isabel 2k24

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icemavs · 2 days

Text

wild-eyed jokers

5.1k, explicit, ao3

“Fuck, Ice,” Maverick panted. “You can’t just move like that and not expect a reaction.” A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face.

“Well what else was I supposed to do?” Iceman replied with a laugh. “Chipper was right on your tail, I had to get him off somehow.”

Maverick shook his head to himself and flipped a switch to listen to the air traffic control radio frequency as he maneuvered his jet back to the base. It was taking some getting used to, flying these new F/A-18s the Navy was letting them try out. Maverick, along with Iceman and a few others, were tapped to help develop new tactics with the new jets before taking what they came up with to TOPGUN and teach a brand new class. There were new instructors teaching the F-14 TOPGUN classes, but there wasn’t anyone experienced enough to teach F/A-18 pilots yet. So, the Navy pulled five pilots from their squadrons to learn what they could and be the best on a new airframe.

It wasn’t that Maverick took what he did for granted, he knew it was important, but sometimes he forgot just how important it could be. As he felt the landing gear touch down on the tarmac, Maverick let out a breath through his nose and marveled at the way the Hornet handled compared to the giant Tomcat. Everything about it was so smooth and new, he loved to push it to its limits as much as he could. He was excited for the future of the Navy with this new piece of equipment.

Finally back on the ground and finished with debrief, Maverick headed to the locker room to shower the day away. Everyone else had already gone for the day, electing to shower at home and have a meal probably cooked by their wives. That wasn’t really Maverick’s style. Often it was only him and Ice that stayed behind.

He was sitting on the bench with his flight suit peeled halfway down his body, revealing his old squadron’s t-shirt he wore that day, when the door to the locker room slammed open.

“Ice, nice flying today” Maverick said dismissively without looking up from where he was untying his boots. They weren’t quite friends, but there was no more bad blood between them since the mission in the Indian Ocean. “Anyone get on your ass for that maneuver?”

When Iceman didn’t reply, Maverick finally looked behind him to where Ice’s locker was. He was just standing there with his head against the cool metal, not moving.

“Uh, Ice?” Maverick asked. “Everything okay?” Ice was usually quiet, but after a sortie like that he was typically a little more keyed up.

“Just got some news I wasn’t expecting, s’all.” He quickly stripped his clothes, grabbed his shower things, and walked off. Maverick sat there stunned, Ice was never that short with him. He was curious to know what he’d learned. For all Maverick’s experience in life, he still hadn’t learned to keep his nose out of other people’s business.

Maverick slowly finished undressing himself and waited to enter the showers until he heard the water turn on. He saw Ice with his back turned toward the rest of the room and the water beating on the back of his neck. Maverick chose a shower head a few spaces down and turned on his own water. He kept sneaking glances at Ice as he stood unmoving under the spray of the shower. Maverick would never be able to get over how beautiful Iceman was. His body was perfectly sculpted by an intense workout regimen and constant G strain while flying. Not only was Ice physically perfect by Maverick’s standards, but he was also one of the most talented pilots Maverick ever had the pleasure of flying with. He was incredibly smart with a wicked sense of airmanship and always seemed to be one step ahead of anyone he was flying with. Maverick respected him immensely, but not so much that he wouldn’t objectify him. He was still a man, after all.

“Mav, I can feel you looking at me,” Iceman said suddenly. “If you want to say something just say it.”

Feeling a flush creep up his face, Maverick finally started to wash himself properly. “You know me Ice,” he said. “I just want to know what’s making you so quiet.” He paused before adding, “Only if you want to tell me, of course.” “Yes, I know how fucking nosy you are, Mav,” Ice said. “My grandmother is in the hospital, that’s all.” Ice went quiet again, but the hard look had fallen from his face, replaced by something a bit softer, but almost scared.

Maverick wasn’t really sure what to say to that, so he went back to showering.

“She just had a fall, that’s all,” Ice said after some time. “She’ll be okay, it just wasn’t something I was expecting to hear.”

“That’s good,” Maverick said. He had gone back to stealing glances at Iceman every once in a while now that he was done washing himself. “Are you close with her?” he asked.

“She practically raised me,” he replied with a slight wobble in his voice. “After my dad passed, she was my closest relative so that’s who they sent me to. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen her, so I’ll just have to call the hospital tonight.” He clipped the end of his sentence short and ran a hand down his face.

Ice turned off the water and grabbed his towel, flashing a look in Maverick’s direction that was more what Maverick was used to seeing from him. It was familiar and it eased the rumbling in Maverick’s gut that had started when he thought Ice had gotten in trouble for his flying. Not that it was good that his grandmother who raised him was in the hospital, but it wasn’t something Maverick could have been responsible for. Often when they flew together, Maverick would do something a bit reckless, Ice would have to save his ass, and because of whatever acrobatic thing Ice had to do to cover him, Ice would get reprimanded and Maverick would go apologize to their CO to let him know Maverick should be the one in trouble.

When Maverick shut off his own shower and dried himself off, he went back to the locker area to find Ice was still there, clothes on and looking like he was waiting.

“Do you want to come over to my place and we can go over some of the stuff we did today?” Ice asked him. He sounded a bit stressed, that wobbly sound from earlier was still in his voice.

“Uh yeah, sure,” Maverick replied. He was thinking about bringing up the fact that Ice had said he was going to call the hospital, but figured maybe Ice needed a distraction for the night. “I rode my bike, so I’ll just meet you there?” Ice nodded his head but didn’t make any move to leave the locker room.

Maverick turned to his locker to get dressed, but when he dropped his towel he could still feel Ice’s eyes on him. It took everything in him to not turn around and make a comment about it, but he knew better. It wouldn’t be the first time that something like this had happened. There was a time during their first run at TOPGUN that they figured out a way to blow off steam and keep themselves from killing each other. A few of their meetings over the years had produced the same results. They were two of just a few of their TOPGUN class and now their instructor cadre that didn’t have wives or girlfriends and neither of them really went after women the way the other single men did, but still no one acted like they knew. Don’t ask, don’t tell and all that. It only happened a few times, but Maverick hadn’t forgotten about it and based on the eyes burning holes into Maverick’s ass, Ice hadn’t forgotten either. Maverick just didn’t think that was the kind of distraction Ice wanted tonight.

He decided against trying something while they were still on base, so Maverick dressed quickly and grabbed his helmet and jacket from where they were hanging on a peg near the door.

“Ready?” he asked Ice while he pulled his jacket on. Ice still didn’t say anything and just nodded again.

Maverick could feel the heat of Ice’s body where he was walking close to him and it took all his willpower not to reach out and touch him. As they approached the door, Maverick let out a groan when we saw it was raining. He hated riding his bike in the rain. It was well waterproofed, so the fact that it was sitting out there wasn’t the problem, but Maverick’s jacket was leather and there was no way in hell he would ride with it in the rain.

“You can just ride with me and I’ll bring you back to get your bike later,” Ice said with an air of finality as if he had already made the decision for Maverick.

“Fine by me,” Maverick replied, and they set off for Iceman’s Mercedes.

The car ride was mostly quiet, but the silence was charged with an energy Maverick hadn’t felt since the last time he and Ice had needed to let off steam and distract themselves. That time it was Bradley that was in the hospital. Carole was driving with a seven year old Bradley in the backseat when another driver ran a stop sign and t-boned Bradley’s side of the car. He ended up with only a broken leg and a few bruised ribs, but Maverick was so distraught at the thought of him being hurt that he sought out Ice and asked him to make him forget who he was for a little while.

When they finally pulled in front of Ice’s house, the two of them sat there for a little while not saying anything and staring straight ahead. Ice cleared his throat and looked over at Maverick.

“Well, I’m getting a bit hungry, so how about we go in and I’ll order a pizza?” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Pepperoni and mushroom, right?”

Maverick snorted. “You got it,” he said. He knew it was a bit of a different pizza order but he was tickled that Ice remembered it.

They got inside and shed their jackets and shoes before settling in on the breakfast nook barstools. Ice pulled two beers from the fridge before picking up the phone. Maverick pulled his notes out of his bag as Ice made the call to the local pizza place for two large pizzas to be delivered. Once he was done, Ice sat down in the stool right next to Maverick and stared down at his hands. Maverick felt how stiff Ice was as he sat there, so he moved his foot over to Ice’s stool and nudged his foot.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Everything okay?”

“Mhmm,” Ice hummed, still not looking up from his hands. “Mav, are you trying to play footsie with me?” he asked after a moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maverick replied, feigning offense. He plastered a big grin on his face as he turned to face Ice. “I’m just trying to go over my notes from today, that’s all.”

“Right,” Ice said shortly.

Maverick figured he would let Ice take the reins tonight, given that he wasn’t exactly explicit about what he wanted from tonight. For all Maverick knew, Ice really did just want to go over their notes tonight, and Maverick was reading too much into it.

Iceman pulled his own notes from his bag and began quietly going over them while Maverick did the same. They pointed out a few things to each other with a few mumbles as they sipped their beers and waited for pizza.

They had a lot of similarities in their notes from the week, everything was coming together nicely for their first TOPGUN class in a few weeks. The other pilots were helping come up with a syllabus and what was going to be necessary to teach to pilots new to the F/A-18. After about twenty minutes the pizza finally came. The two of them scarfed down their respective pizzas in relative silence while talking only when necessary, most often to ask if the other wanted a napkin or another beer.

“Wait, wait, Ice,” Maverick said around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “Explain that to me, what do you mean by a split s against that system? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Ice waved his hand in the air and swallowed the bite he was chewing before he spoke. “The seeker on that missile isn’t any good against the Hornet’s radar jamming, anything more aggressive than that and you’re going to over G whatever bombs you’re carrying and not be able to drop them on the target.” He moved his hands around to show how the motion would work. “See?”

Maverick nodded. “Okay, okay, yeah that makes sense. We should try that next week with the emitters at the range.”

Iceman clapped Maverick on the shoulder and squeezed. “I do wish you would finish chewing before you speak, though.”

Maverick took another large bite and smiled dopily at Ice. “I just wanted you to know as soon as possible that I recognize your genius as a fighter pilot,” he said sarcastically. “The pizza couldn’t wait.”

“Shut up,” Ice laughed. He got up and took the plates to the sink and the empty beer bottles to the garbage. Maverick’s shoulder still felt like it was burning from where Ice’s hand had grasped him.

Ice stared at him from across the counter without saying anything. Maverick didn’t know if there was anything he could say, this was Ice’s dance to lead. He excused himself to the bathroom instead.

Once he got there, Maverick splashed some water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He was still so confused about how Ice could want him when Ice could have anyone he wanted. Maverick was attractive enough. His green eyes were a common topic people commented on when they wanted to pick him up. His hair was stark black and spiky from a day of flying and no shower could tame it. His exploits were often fans of grabbing it when they wanted to get him in a more advantageous position in bed. Maverick scrubbed his hands down his face, took a deep breath, and left the bathroom.

When Maverick walked back to the living room, Ice was spread out on the couch and watching a black screen on the TV. His breathing was shallow and was sporting a thousand yard stare Maverick could relate to a little bit.

“Hey,” Maverick said as he walked over to the couch. He swung his leg over Iceman’s and settled on top of his hips. Ice grunted with the sudden weight on top of him and quickly moved his hands to grab Maverick’s hips.

“Someone is a bit forward tonight,” Ice remarked as he squeezed Maverick’s hips.

“You seemed like you needed it,” Maverick replied. “You look like you need a distraction.” He was going to let Ice kiss him first, just to make sure it was what Ice wanted. With Ice’s hands gripping his hips and the heat of him underneath, Maverick was bubbling with anticipation. It was always his favorite part, the build up to the actual moment. Not that the real thing wasn’t good, but the adrenaline rush he got would always excite him. He trailed a hand down the side of Ice’s face and slid the other under the hem of Ice’s shirt so he could feel the muscles jump under his touch.

“Maybe a little,” Ice replied.

Iceman lowered his gaze to pointedly rest on Maverick’s lips before flitting it back up. He looked up at Maverick through his lashes and tightened his grip. One of his hands came up to scratch at the short hairs at the back of Maverick’s neck and all at once pulled Maverick forward.

The kiss was slow but heated, Maverick letting Ice guide him, manipulate him into whatever position he wanted. Maverick arched his back to push his hips farther into Ice’s and rest their chests together. Ice worked Maverick’s mouth open, gently taking the lead with his tongue.

It’s not like this was the first time they had kissed, in fact it was far from it, but Maverick would never get over how good Ice was at kissing. It wasn’t unlike being in the cockpit of a fighter jet. It was smooth yet fast, with constant ups and downs that left Maverick feeling like he was pulling 8 Gs and always wanting more.

With one hand in his hair and the other snaking around to grab a handful of Maverick’s ass, Ice was moving quickly. After one particularly hard tug, Maverick let a moan escape. Ice took the opportunity of the broken kiss to latch onto Maverick’s neck and work a mark into the skin.

“Fuck, Ice, don’t leave a mark,” Maverick panted.

Iceman just hummed and continued on for a short moment before working his way down to pull at Maverick’s shirt collar and bite his collarbone.

“Fine,” Ice said into Maverick’s neck. “I won’t leave anything visible. Below the collar is fair game.”

In lieu of a reply, Maverick just groaned and ground his hips in Ice’s, earning a moan from Ice. Exactly what he was going for. Maverick was going to let Ice lead for the night, but that didn’t mean he had to be patient about it.

Maverick continued grinding his hips and let his hands explore under Ice’s shirt. He tugged at the hem in a silent question and Ice complied quickly. After he had pulled his own shirt off he grabbed at Maverick’s to have him take it off as well. Once he was shirtless, Ice immediately moved his attention to Maverick’s nipples. Maverick threw his head back and let himself bask in the pleasure. He wasn’t holding back on the sounds, he knew Ice was a fan of them, if the growing pressure pressing on Maverick’s backside was any indication.

“God, fuck Ice,” Maverick moaned. “Keep doing that, holy shit.”

“Yeah? You like that, baby?” Ice was goading him, trying to get him to say more. “Tell me what you want, Mav.”

“Fuck, I want whatever you want to give to me,” Maverick replied. It was getting harder and harder to form a coherent thought with Ice playing with his nipples and a hand on his ass.

Maverick finally let his head fall forward again and rested his nose on the top of Ice’s head. He breathed in deeply, letting the smell of Ice’s shampoo and sweat fill his nose. It was an unmistakable combination of something almost minty and something musky. Ever since the first time Maverick smelled it he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. He was so glad to have it back for one more night.

Ice pulled off Maverick’s chest and looked up at Maverick with a mischievous look in his eyes. He surged up to kiss Maverick quickly and deeply before fitting both his hands under Maverick thighs and standing up.

Maverick let out a yelp of surprise at being lifted like he didn’t weigh a thing. Maverick may be short but he wasn’t exactly lightweight, he carried a lot of muscle on him, but Ice was so incredibly strong. They abandoned their shirts in the living room as Ice carried them down the hall to the bedroom.

Once they got there, Iceman dropped Maverick unceremoniously on the bed. Maverick reached out to pull Ice in by his belt loops and got to work on the buckle. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory by any means, but for Maverick it always felt like the first time with Ice. Everything about it was just so good, it never felt like they were doing the same things. With the buckle finally undone and Ice’s pants kicked off to somewhere in the corner, Maverick leaned forward to breathe in more of Ice. He mouthed over Ice’s cock in his boxers and earned himself a loud groan.

“Jesus Mav,” he breathed. Ice snaked his fingers through Maverick’s hair and squeezed once he was satisfied he had a good grip. “Wait,” he said suddenly.

Maverick quickly sat back to look questioningly at Iceman. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Ice just laughed at him. “Nothing, nothing,” he said. “I just had something else in mind.”

“In mind?” Maverick asked incredulously. He could feel a blush creeping up his body. Iceman had planned this, he was thinking about Maverick. “You mean you thought about this ahead of time?”

“You’re cute when you blush,” Ice said. Maverick felt his face get hotter. “Come on, pants off,” Ice said in his officer voice.

“Well shit, yes sir, commander sir,” Maverick said as he scrambled to pull his own pants off and situate himself on the bed. Iceman laughed at him again.

“Boxers, too,” Ice said, and Maverick quickly complied. He was already half hard and knew it wouldn’t take long for him to be aching. Ice stripped his own without much fanfare and seemed to be in the same position as Maverick.

Ice didn’t say anything but sat down near the head of the bed and motioned for Maverick to sit on his lap again, mimicking the same position they were in on the couch. The skin to skin contact made Maverick hiss, his cock pressing against Ice’s without hesitation.

They sat like that for a bit, grinding against each other and kissing. Ice was still dominant with the kiss, more so than he was on the couch. He was making each kiss deeper than the last, leaning back to pull Maverick’s bottom lip with his teeth every so often. Maverick would let out a sound akin to a whimper whenever Ice would grab a handful of his ass and squeeze.

After a bit, Ice pushed Maverick back and motioned for him to turn around. Maverick obliged and got on his hands and knees.

“I’m going to open you up, okay?” Ice told him. Maverick nodded and waited for the click of a lube bottle and the blunt pressure of fingers prodding at his hole. He was breathing heavily but more than ready for what was to come.

Ice pulled his knees up and Maverick assumed he was reaching for the lube, but Maverick felt large hands grab his hips and a hot breath on his hole.

“Fuck,” was all he had time to whisper before Ice licked a stripe from sweet spot behind his balls up to his hole. He sucked in a breath as Ice went to town opening him up.

He speared his tongue and worked Maverick open quickly. Maverick’s breathing was getting quicker but he kept it under control as much as he could, his face now pressed into the mattress.. He was fully hard and aching now and nearly dripping precome onto the bedspread, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, he had other things to worry about.

After Ice had him sufficiently open with just his tongue, Ice started to work a finger into Maverick. It was almost too much for Maverick, he bit into the blanket underneath him and tried to keep from crying out. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar but it had been a while and the stretch was just on the right side of hurting too much.

“Come on, Mav,” Ice whispered from behind him. “Let me hear you.” He added another finger alongside the first one and Maverick let out a long moan.

Ice made quick work of getting Maverick open. He worked his way up to three fingers and Maverick was panting and screaming into the bed. He was trying (and failing) to grind his hips into something, anything, but all he could find was empty air.

“Fuck Ice, please just fuck me now,” Maverick begged. He wasn’t much for begging but for Ice he would. “Please, please, please, now.”

“Well baby, when you ask like that, how can I say no?” Ice chuckled and leaned back against the headboard. Before Maverick could turn around and situate himself, Ice grabbed a hold of the back of Maverick’s neck and pulled him backwards.

Maverick let out a surprised sound and tried to keep his balance, but Ice caught him smoothly and let him down gently. He was hovering just over Ice’s cock, his thighs threatening to shake with the strain to hold himself up. With Ice trying to line everything up, Maverick had the upper hand for a moment. He took the time to grab Ice’s hands with one of his own and held them against his chest.

“Mav, what,” was all Ice could get out before Maverick snaked his free hand behind him and lined up Ice’s cock with his hole. “There’s no lube,” Ice tried to protest.

“Don’t care, need you in me,” Maverick said. Ice just snorted a laugh but his humor didn’t laugh long as Maverick started to sink down.

“Fuck, Mav,” Ice panted. “You’re so fucking tight.” Since Maverick was holding onto his hands, Ice could only sit there, leaning against the headboard, as Maverick started to move himself.

His mouth was dropped open in a silent moan and it took everything in him to keep moving. Iceman felt so good, he was just on the right side of too big but Maverick wasn’t one to back down and he enjoyed the stretch. He let himself revel in the feeling and gripped Ice’s hands tighter to his chest. With what little room he had to move his hands, Ice wrapped his fingers around Maverick’s and let his head fall forward into Maverick’s back. Maverick could feel how sweaty Ice’s hair was, a great indicator of just how much Maverick was having an effect on him. Ice wasn’t one to be loud in bed, but Maverick made it his mission each time to get him to be loud. Even if it meant he had to stave off his own orgasm so Ice could have his first. After all, the whole goal of tonight was to distract Ice so it was only fair.

Head still against Maverick’s back, Ice’s breath started to pick up and his grip on Maverick’s fingers tightened once again.

“Are you close, baby?” Maverick asked him, somewhat rhetorically. “Come on, Ice, come for me.”

Maverick could feel his own orgasm coming and his thighs were starting to shake with the effort, but he kept up a steady rhythm of riding Ice. He was dripping down the front of his own cock, some of it landing on Ice’s legs, but he didn’t think he cared.

Iceman nodded, but let his head fall back against the headboard as he started to pant louder.

“Mav, please, please,” he nearly cried. He was trying to move his hands, but Mav had an iron grip on them for leverage. Ice’s legs tensed and he cried out while Maverick rode him through his orgasm. Maverick felt impossibly full and started to slow his pace as Iceman tried to slow his breathing. Even the slow pace was almost too much for Maverick, he could feel warmth pooling low in his gut. He had never come untouched, but it was looking like a possibility at this point. “That’s it, Ice,” Maverick cooed. He kept going ever so slowly until Ice’s body felt loose beneath him. Maverick let Ice’s hands go and they immediately landed on Maverick’s hips and worked small circles into the sides. Maverick was still ever so slightly shifting his hips back and forth and trying to chase his release. Ice, despite seeming to be entirely fucked out, was always the people pleaser and moved his hands to wrap one around Maverick’s cock.

His rough hand moved slowly up and down at a brutal pace that left Maverick panting. There was a bead of sweat running down the side of his face with the effort to hold himself up and with the desire to come.

“Come on, Mav,” Ice whispered into Maverick’s ear. It didn’t take long for Maverick’s small hip movements and Ice’s calloused hands to finally bring him over the edge. His head fell back on to Ice’s shoulder and Ice pressed small kisses into the side of his neck as he slowed his pace.

Maverick slowly pulled off Ice and moved to press himself up against Ice’s side. He felt warm and fuzzy and full. He didn’t know what this whole thing with Ice was, them coming to each other for comfort or to blow off steam whenever they needed it. It was like they knew what the other needed without ever having to say it out loud. There was never any awkward moment afterward, both of them content to stay laying together until they were ready to go, each time before this having ended the next morning.

As far as Maverick’s subconscious could tell, it wasn’t just sex, it wasn’t just a friendly rivalry with one extra way to get under each other’s skin. It definitely wasn’t something Maverick felt like talking about at the moment. He was content to just lay with his head on Ice’s chest and listen to his heartbeat steadying.

“So, are you going to call your grandma?” Maverick asked him after a few minutes.

With the little room he had, Ice moved his head down to look at Maverick. “Mav you are insufferable,” he said. “And tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow.” Before Maverick could get another word in, Ice got up to go to the bathroom. Maverick let out a small grunt and Ice turned around and laughed at him.

He came back after a minute with a wet washcloth and maneuvered Maverick’s legs around so he could wipe him off. Maverick let his eyes close, sleep was close to overtaking him.

“Ah,” Ice chided and when Maverick opened his eyes he was extending a glass of water. “Drink. Your throat will hurt in the morning if you don’t.”

Maverick hummed but took the glass anyway. His cheeks felt warm at Ice’s mention of knowing how Maverick’s morning would go. There was something so familiar about it all. He was glad they were friends now.

Ice finished up what he was doing to clean up the room and got back into bed. The soiled comforter was thrown to the floor, but the sheets were still intact. He pulled the top sheet over the two of them as Maverick wrapped himself around Ice’s body like he was a tree branch and Maverick was a koala.

Maverick fell asleep that night feeling a contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. He loved his job and he loved his friends. Maybe he even loved Iceman.

#top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky

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