howlingplayground | Arranged Marriage

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Arranged Marriage

It's a trope near and dear to our hearts. Arranged marriage.

Maybe it's for the family. Maybe it's for a friend. Maybe you know the person and have been expected to marry them for years. Maybe it's the wedding day and you have no clue who it is you'll be tied to for your natural life. Maybe you've been married a while, and you're just now starting your life, away from the expectations of others. Or maybe, the "others" are watching, waiting, making sure this marriage sticks.

Prompts for those who need them:

Reasons:

1. Station → You come from a royal, noble, or otherwise distinguished family who has chosen a suitable spouse for you.
2. Feud → You are being married to put an end to the bitter enmity between your two families.
3. Economics → Your economic state and/or your station will improve through the union, though one of you may be marrying down.
4. Empire → You and your spouse are merging your businesses and/or property to create something more influential or profitable.
6. Tribute → You have been offered as a gift or appeasement, alternately you're the spoils of war.
8. Bloodline → Carrying on your distinguished family name has fallen to you and the equally well-bred spouse of your family's selection.
7. Disapproval → Your marriage has been arranged to keep you away from the person with whom you truly wish to be.

Scenario:

1. First meeting → This is the very first time you're meeting your future spouse.
2. Courtship → To get to know each other and encourage affection, your family has approved of you going on dates.
3. Engagement party → Be it a huge, formal affair or a small, intimate get together, you're celebrating (or pretending).
4. Wedding day → The big day!
5. Reception → The big party!
6. Wedding night → Every meme needs a smut prompt, right?
7. Honeymoon → Where will you go with your new spouse and what will you do there?
8. Been at this a while → Just starting to get to know the other person

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's a bit surprised to see him, because it really is the least amount of clothes she's seen him wear. She'd half suspected that he would've done all the undressing in the bathroom, and the thought that he was feeling a bit more at ease around her to shed some of those layers left a rather warm feeling in her chest.

As he goes to shower, she flops back onto one of the beds, her hands resting on her stomach to play with her ring as she stares up at the ceiling. She'd actually been really impressed that he'd made the rings - she'd known he was into blacksmithing, but she'd never really seen what he could make until now. And the design, while not really her style in most cases, seemed rather fitting now for some reason. His personal touch where he normally didn't leave one.

Glancing over as he returns, she sits up and fixes up her bathrobe a bit. Even though they are married now, she still can't help feeling a bit shy about her body. "I could go for a pizza, honestly," she replies. "Do you think there are any places open?"

As she tugs the towel off her head and reaches for her hairbrush, she finally notices the small box resting on the other bed. "What's that?"

He's not going to be asking her to disrobe anytime soon. He thinks they need to learn about each other a bit more first, before they go jumping into having a "real" marriage. Not that he'd object - sometimes, Kevin is just a guy about things - but he doesn't want to pressure her.

"Dominos is usually open, though I don't know around here. It's almost one." He admits with a shrug, and then glances around and slips on his glove before picking up the menu. He's barechested, having forgotten to find a tank top. Gingerly, he holds it out to her. "There's one on here open until three? Give 'em a call and see if they'll deliver?"

then she asks. He glares at the box. It had fallen out of his bag. He'd meant to save that for Florida. But he just scoops it up with his gloved hand and offers it to her. "It's... Forge and Doc McCoy made it for me. It negates my powers." They'd also given him rules about wearing it - no more than nine hours straight, period. Then he had to be off of it for eight hours, at least. But, if she wants him to wear it, he will.

She takes the menu from him, only just slightly distracted by the fact that he's shirtless - being an X-Man means they were all in really great shape, and she'd meant what she said earlier. He is pretty attractive.

When he starts explaining about the ring though, she takes in a breath and slowly takes the box from him, carefully opening it up. The ring itself doesn't look like anything extraordinary, but she knows better than most that appearances are deceiving.

"...Would it hurt?" she asks softly. She couldn't lie that the idea of some semblance of a normal relationship is appealing. But she doesn't want to risk him getting hurt just for that.

He never sees himself as attractive, but as a freak amongst mutants. He kills with a touch. Sure, Rogue does a lot of the same thing, but she can choose to kill or not. And that's just not fair.

Sitting on his bed, keeping deadly skin far away from her, he doesn't look at the box. "If I wear it for too long, it'll give me a headache." He shrugs. "But I can wear it for nine hours or so at a stretch." Long enough to sleep next to his wife, if he wanted to... if she wanted to.

"It's... a choice." He says, softly. "If I had it, I'd wear it all the time, but I can't." He slips on his second glove. They go up to midforearm, luckily. He reaches out and touches her hand. "It's your choice." He whispers. "I'll wear it, when and if you want me to."

Her eyes look from the box, then to his hands, and finally up to his face, studying him for a moment as she bites her bottom lip thoughtfully.

“....If...If I asked you to wear it, would you be comfortable with it? And don’t,” she adds quickly, “don’t say that you will if I want you to. Don’t think about me right now. I want to know if you’re okay with it. I need to know what your limits are.”

“I...” he doesn’t know what to say to that. He isn’t sure. “I want to wear it now.” He decides to go with the complicated truth. “I always want to wear it. To be able to just reach out and touch anything or anyone without having to be so careful. I want to wear it until the headache blinds me and I have to take it off.” He’s admitting things to her that he’s never admitted to anyone. Save Mimsy.

“But I’m scared of it too. With it on, it offers me a chance to be normal. And then takes it away when I take it off.” He looks at her, hair falling into his face. “That’s why it can’t be my choice. I need someone to help me with it. And as good a dog as Mimsy is, sometimes she’s not the greatest help.”

She releases a slow breath, watching him for another silent moment. She could understand, even if not fully, why something like that would be difficult. Wanting to be able to do things that people - herself included - take for granted every day, but being scared of getting used to it only for it to be fleeting. And her heart goes out to him, because it isn't fair that he has to make a choice like this.

And is it fair of her to ask him to wear it? To give him that bit of hope, when they both know it can't always last. In all honesty, she isn't sure. But she thinks, if she was in the same position, she'd still want to know...want to have a chance to experience what she'd always been missing, even if she couldn't always have it.

To take it however she can, for as long as she can.

So carefully she plucks the ring from its confines, holding it up to him. "You know..." she says with a small smile, "since we missed the reception...we never got to have our first dance."

It isn't fair, but he knows that God doesn't give him more than he can handle. Even if God has way more faith in him than he does himself. But, maybe, there are perks. Like his brand new wife of a little over thirteen hours holding out the suppressor to him. Cautiously, he peels off his right glove and takes the ring from her with his left hand.

Then, he slides it on.

Faith can be rewarded.

He knows it's working because his skin suddenly doesn't feel hypersensitive. It doesn't feel like it's reaching out to just touch things. So, he takes off his other glove, revealing his wedding ring. Then, he tunes the alarm clock radio to some slow song with no words and offers her a bare hand. Standing there shirtless, in only his jeans and socks, he wants to dance with his wife.

"Well," he whispers. "We should fix that, don't you think?"

Her eyes tick from his face to his hands, before reaching up and slowly placing her hand in his.

And there's...nothing. Nothing but the warmth of his skin, his fingers rough from his forging work and still gentle. With a smile on her face, she slides off the bed and gets to her feet.

"Yeah," she replies just as softly, and lets herself lean into him - feeling the beat of his heart beneath her other hand as it rests against his chest.

He has calluses that are thick on his hands. But he'll always be gentle with her. Wrapping his other arm around her back, he starts swaying to the music. Kevin isn't huge. His dad wasn't huge and his mother was smaller than Kitty. But forging work, welding work, just general metal work has left him broad with well-defined muscles. Being an XMan only helps that.

He pulls her against him, and just sways to the music, holding her close, his head resting against hers.

It's... nice, peaceful. Something that they probably both needed after a hectic morning of wedding, and an equally hectic afternoon of 'get the hell outta here'. He wonders though. Wearing both rings makes him bold. As one song slides into a second, he gently tilts her face up, his brown eyes earnest. "Know what else you never got?" Kitty's going to learn that Kevin is more about other people than himself. He leans closer, moving slowly so she can decide if she wants to step back or not. "That first kiss." He whispers against her lips, then brushes them with his own.

He may not be very tall, but he is still a foot or so taller than she is. And right now, with his firm build and soft warmth, as he holds her close and she can pick up the faint scent of the hotel soap on his skin, she feels...safe.

And it's a nice moment, one that she gets lost in until he gently lifts her gaze, meeting his eyes. She doesn't question him, seeing and feeling him lean towards her, and she doesn't move until his lips meet hers, before closing her eyes and cupping his cheek as she returns the kiss.

Despite his mutation, Kevin has had a girlfriend, and a boyfriend. He knows how to kiss. It's a skill, learned like any other.

He closes his eyes and wraps both arms around her, pulling her against the warmth of his body. But the kiss remains sweet, gentle, but not tentative at all. One hand buries itself in her hair, cupping the back of her head.

Then, his tongue brushes against her lips, seeking entrance. It's definitely a question and not a demand, those might come later in their relationship, but right now, he's still trying to feel his way through this. And feeling her pressed against him, and the warm metal of her ring cannot be beat. It can't.

She shivers a little, giving a soft sound that's muffled between their lips. Oddly enough, despite her outgoing personality and the 'party girl' perception of her, she's only ever had one boyfriend, and they had been on and off again so many times that she isn't nearly as experienced.

Even so, she leans more into him, her lips parting slightly to give him entrance as she wraps her arms around his neck. As she feels herself pressed against his chest, she becomes even more aware that the only thing covering her is the bathrobe.

He holds onto her, stopping any movement, except the sweep of his tongue into her mouth. The sound she makes is something that he doesn't hear, so much as feel against his lips. His tongue explores her mouth, inviting hers to play with it.

Kevin is very aware of the fact that all he's got on is a pair of jeans and his socks, and she appears to be wearing only her bathrobe. That may cause a problem, but right now, he's just enjoying kissing his wife.

Slowly, he pulls back, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed, just ever so slightly out of breath.

"You're one hell of a kisser, Mrs. Ford." He whispers gently. But he is not... unaffected by such a kiss. Sometimes, his body is such a guy.

With another small noise, this one more of a low moan, her tongue rises to meet his, feeling and exploring his until the kiss is broken. Taking a few shaky breaths of her own, she leans against him, shivering again as his warm breath tickles her face.

"You're pretty good yourself, Mr. Ford," she replies. As she slowly opens her eyes, she notices that her bathrobe had loosened somewhat, exposing her body a bit more. She tracks back up to his face, slightly curious to see if he might do anything.

He's noticed. He's noticed and he wants... The hand in her hair trails down, brushing along her neck, and flowing over the cloth of her robe. He's watching her, waiting for any sign that she's uncomfortable, or that she wants him to stop. He rubs the lapel of her robe between his fingers.

He leans in and kisses her again, liking the sounds she'd made earlier. The arm at the small of her back tightens just a bit, bringing her in closer.

this time, when he breaks the kiss, his breathing is decidedly ragged. His hand trails upward. Watching her, he touches her neck then follows the line of her robe, except this time, he's touching her skin, instead of the robe.

All she has to do is say stop, and he will back off.

She takes in a soft breath, his touch sending another shiver down her spine. But she doesn't pull away, and presses back into the kiss with another soft moan.

When he pulls away again, she keeps her eyes on his face as his hand moves slowly, though her breath hitches slightly when the rough callouses of his fingertips brush over her skin.

Still, she doesn't say anything. Instead she reaches up, slowly undoing the tie of the bathrobe and letting it fall open.

Kevin is taking that as a loud and clear invitation. This time, his kiss is a little rougher, a little harsher. His tongue demands entrance. But his fingers are still slow, care, steady.

He pushes open the robe a bit further and cups one breast in his hand. The thumb brushes over her nipple, trying to draw another moan from her. This is not where he expected it to go, but he's not going to complain. Slowly, he takes his hand from the small of her back, and brings it between them.

He pushes her robe off her shoulders, leaving nothing to the imagination.

She meets his kiss with just as much fervor, eager and desperate for more. He gets exactly what he's looking for, a moan rumbling in her throat as the nipple hardens under his touch. As the bathrobe pools around their feet, she shivers as the cool air of the hotel room contrasts with the warmth of his body, and she presses into him to feel more.

Sweet mother Mary. His wife is gorgeous. He knew that, in an abstract way, and her swimsuit usually left little to the imagination, but this? This is more than he'd ever imagined.

He wraps his arms around his wife, and kisses her again. Pressing her against him, he keeps her warm in the cool air of the room.

The moan makes him moan back. He wants her, and it's pressing against the zipper of his jeans and against her. He really hopes she doesn't mind. His fingers brush along her spine, while the other hand cups her breast. He wants her. A lot. Gently, he brushes his thumb over the hard nipple. "Kitty." He says, panting hard. "I..." How to say this. "If you want me to stop, please tell me now." He'll stop later, but it'll be much, much harder.

She can feel his excitement pressing against her, feel the heat of it through his jeans, and it sends a thrill through her entire body, knowing that she was causing this in him.

But it isn't as though she's not affected either. His kiss, his touch, his warmth have her head spinning, and she barely registers his words as she takes ragged breaths.

When she finally manages to speak, it's in a low, need-filled voice, "Don't stop..."

That's an invitation if he's ever heard one. So, he scoops her up in a bridal carry and settles her on top of the bedspread. Then, he shucks off his jeans and slides over next to her. He kisses her again, his tongue teasing her lips slowly time and again. Braced on one arm, he uses his left hand, the one bearing his wedding ring, to trace over her body.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers, then slowly kisses down her neck.

Still watching her, he slips his hand around her waist and cautiously pulls that rock hard nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over it. She can still call a stop, though they'll both probably regret it.

She gasps softly in surprise when he picks her up and places her on the bed. She presses into the kiss, her hands slowly trailing down his broad chest, shivering as he does the same down her body.

She doesn’t have a chance to answer him as his lips brush over her skin, sending a spark of heat through her body, which grows hotter as he gives attention to her breast and pulls another moan from her lips.

His mouth rolls the nipple gently. He wants her not necessarily begging but in no way regretting this decision. And if some of her reactions are anything to go by, she's never done this before.

His callused hand runs down her side, and hooks behind her knee, drawing her leg over his. It presses them far more intimately together. His heat to hers. But he'll restrain himself for now. Roaming upward again, he trails his warm fingers over her belly, switching his mouth from the first breast to the second.

She’s never gotten quite this far before, and she’s more than eager to keep going. Her back arches slightly as he pulls her closer, pressing herself more against him. Her arms circle around him, and her fingers gently tangle in his hair.

“Kevin...” she moans, her voice just a bare, throaty whisper.

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