#(bringing the beard back for another au)
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eremington · 3 months ago
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Phantom Creak Bio
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Occupation: Grocery owner
Elijah left Phantom Creak to go to school before returning afterwards.
The murders have led him to stay up most nights until Rei returns, and he's put extra locks on the doors to their house.
Kyoko and Eiji left town together a while ago and they've sent a few letters back and forth.
He's protective of Rei, perhaps a little over-protective and doesn't want to let go of him.
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navybrat817 · 3 months ago
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His Favorite Person
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Pairing: Librarian!Ari Levinson x Female Reader
Summary: You want to be more than friends with Ari.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Fluff, sweetness, friends to lovers (of sorts), Ari Levinson (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @lovebittenbyevans requested Librarian AU, friends to lovers with Ari, and to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #7 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You stood on your tiptoes to reach a book on the top shelf. You huffed out a breath and tried to stretch a little bit more, but your fingers barely skimmed the spine. It would’ve been easier to ask for some help, but you didn’t want to bother Ari. You bothered him enough during his shifts.
You should’ve known he was only standing a few feet away, watching the display with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. “Need some help?” He asked.
Managing not to fall into the shelf from the slight scare, you pointed to the book you tried and failed to grab. “If you wouldn’t mind?” You asked, dragging your eyes from his chest to his eyes. It was like looking into a storm, but warmth lingered in a way that told you not to fear any destruction left in its wake. “Please?”
Rugged was the word that came to mind whenever you glanced at him. A dark beard to match his long hair and jeans that showed off his large thighs, he even had the sleeves of his tight shirt rolled up so you could see his veins. The man could've easily passed for an adventurer instead of a librarian and you were certain he caught you staring at him more than once.
It wasn’t polite to stare, but was it fair for him to be so good looking?
“Don’t mind at all,” he said, plucking it from the shelf and placing it in your waiting hand. “You could’ve just asked me to grab it from the start, but you just had to be stubborn.”
“I wasn’t being stubborn,” you argued. He raised an eyebrow in response. “You just have a lot to do and I didn’t want to bother you,” you said, hugging the book to your chest.
“You were being stubborn, you’ve never once bothered me, and it’s part of my job to help.” Ari made a show of looking around, his silky hair flowing with the motion. “But I guess you’re right. I have so much to do since it’s so crowded today,” he joked.
It wasn’t a secret that the library was hit and miss in town. So many wanted their stories electronically and didn’t appreciate the feel of a book in their hands. Ari did what he could though since he took over as head librarian. Between overseeing the daily operations and managing his employees, he took his job seriously. You had no doubt he’d bring a much needed spark back to the place.
“Yeah, well, thanks for your help,” you said.
“Another romance novel, huh? Didn’t you just bring one back today?”
Your face grew warm before you nodded. Of course, he’d notice that. “You know me,” you mumbled, hugging the book tighter.
He took a step closer, searching your face with a gentle gaze. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with reading what you love.”
There was no judgement in his eyes and that made the corner of your lips lift in a smile. “I appreciate that.”
Being single, reading books like that allowed you to dive into various worlds and experience love. You could immerse yourself and imagine having a partner who would not only overcome obstacles with you, but would ensure that there would be a happily ever after. In a world often dark and negative, the escape gave you hope that one day you'd manage to find someone who could love you so deeply. You didn't want to think that romance only existed in books.
If only you were brave enough to take a chance and ask Ari out.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” you began, walking beside him to head to the front desk. He took up a good portion of the aisle with his beefy frame and you had to tell yourself again not to stare. “I spoke with my boss about adjusting my hours and they approved it! I can do Story Time on Tuesdays.”
“That’s great!” The smile on Ari’s face was worth moving your schedule around. “I really appreciate you doing that for me. I owe you one.”
You wished you would’ve teasingly suggested a date as a form of payment, but you shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend and that’s what friends do,” you said, cringing inwardly. It sounded lame to your ears.
“Yeah. Friends.” His smile faded slightly as he walked around the counter. “Just this book today, right?” He asked, slipping into his professional tone. Still pleasant to hear, but a touch of the usual warmth was gone. Like you were just like every other person who walked into the library.
“Yeah,” you replied, passing over your library card. “Did I say something wrong?” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.
“No, you didn’t,” he said, his large hand placing your card on top of the book. He passed it over to you and you couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that moved through you when your fingers touched. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s just…” Putting him on the spot wasn’t your intention and you didn’t want to point out his slight change in demeanor. “You do consider us friends, right?”
You didn't have a lot of close friends, but you considered Ari to be one of them. At the very least, he was friendly with you. It was possible that you read things wrong. Engrossing yourself in one too many books could’ve blurred your version of reality.
“Of course, I do. You’re my favorite person,” he replied. You leaned on the counter with a relieved and dopey smile at his statement. Were you really his favorite person? “But just because you’re my favorite person doesn’t mean I have to be yours.”
“But you are my favorite person,” you blurted out, covering your mouth when your voice echoed. “Sorry,” you added in a hushed whisper. It was a library. You needed to be somewhat quiet.
He chuckled and leaned on the counter, too, his eyes zeroed on you. “Oh, I am, am I? So, you don't actually come here to borrow romance novels. You’re just really looking for an excuse to see me.”
Your heart pounded, but you took a breath to keep your cool and hopefully not make a fool out of yourself. “I come here for the books and to see you, Ari,” you said carefully, the corner of your lip twitching in a smile. “But you obviously want to see me, too, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to do Story Time.”
“Well, yeah,” he smirked before softly adding, “Seeing you is the best part of my day.”
How did your knees not buckle? “It is?”
“Yeah, it is.” He smiled, almost to himself. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did, but you can ask me another question,” you teased.
He stretched across the counter a bit more. “If I'm your favorite person and you're mine, why haven't we gone on a date?”
For a moment, it felt like the room sucked up all the oxygen. Breathing should've been natural to do, but you couldn't inhale as you stared at him. Glancing down at the book to get your bearings, it dared you to take a chance. A leap of faith. With a deep breath, you did.
“Because I've been waiting for you to ask me out and you haven't yet. And I've been too chicken to ask you myself,” you replied. You regretted the words the moment he stood up straight, his expression unreadable. He didn’t actually want that, did he? “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. Please.”
A second passed and his lips slightly parted, but he didn't speak. His silence said it all. Nodding with a heavy heart, you turned to walk away from the counter. You could lick your wounds later as you read another happily ever after.
“Shit. Wait.” Ari moved with impressive speed to block your path, his grip gentle on your arms to stop you. “Did you mean it? You really want to go on a date with me?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I do, but I understand if-”
“Thank fuck,” he sighed, your eyes rounding at his words. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for days and I got worried there for a moment with the ‘friends’ comment that you didn't want anything beyond friendship.”
Your stomach did somersaults. Ari liked you. He wanted to ask you out. God, you almost ruined things before they started. “I’m sorry I worried you, but trust me. I'm very interested in you, Ari,” you smiled, forgetting you were in the library as you stepped closer. “And if you ask me, some of the best romances come from friendships.”
“They do.” He smiled back, his cerelain eyes lit up like yours. “And our story will be more romantic than any of those books you’ve been reading.”
Biting your lip, you watched as his gaze dropped to your mouth. What would it feel like if he bit your lip? “I don’t know. That’s a pretty tall order.”
He brought his mouth to your ear. “I’m a very determined man,” he whispered. No doubt he felt you tremble in his grasp. “Saturday night?”
“It’s a date.”
A date and the beginning of your love story.
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We know this man would plan the perfect date, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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blingblong55 · 1 year ago
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Young and Beautiful-Alejandro Vargas NSFW
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A/N: so desperately want to kiss him, look at that cute face uggghhh
Based on a request:
Hi Kasper 🖤 If there is a spot available still, could I get an Alejandro Vargas x f!reader with a breeding kink + dbf au?? if you're not doing 2 from the list, either is fine. Thank you, I hope you have a good weekend --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, dbf!Alejandro, breeding, unprotected!sex P-in-V, age gap, gentle!sex ---
A/N: all characters are of consensual/legal age
It started with an innocent question that now has his hand over your mouth as he fingers you. Your tried to suppress the moans from escaping but his thick fingers kept rubbing your clit and giving you the pleasure you longed for. "Ale-" You try to stop him but all he does is undo his trousers. Your dad and mum are downstairs as he corrupts the daughter of his best friend. "Shhh chula, be a good girl and keep quiet," he kisses your lips this time and slowly pushes himself onto you. His hands under your shirt, neck kisses that guarantee hickeys to be shown.
Clothes were thrown to the side, "I'll take good care of you," he whispers and rubs his tip on your clit. Your legs spread open for him. The bedroom of his friend's 'little girl' now used to have sex in. He gives your clit a few smacks with his tip before slowly slipping it inside you. You gasp, his size too much to take, you let out a whimper to which he kisses you to keep the noise down. "It's okay, be a good girl and take it," he whispers between kisses. Your hands are on his back, holding him close as he thrusts into you with care. His kisses are intense, tongue lapping yours, fighting for that bit of dominance, he can't take back what he said. "I'll ruin you, Chula." A promise he meant to keep.
His thick cock nearly too deep into you, hitting all the right spots, your clit rubbed on by his fingers. "I bet you fingered yourself to me, huh." a cocky smirk on him. Oh, how he loved to know you dreamt of this moment, to get absolutely corrupted by a man like him. His not-so-innocent girl had a vibrator in her drawer, one he planned on using, not tonight, but maybe tomorrow for yet another 'friendly' dinner. "Wouldn't you look so cute, filled with my kids," he kisses you again. His kiss is like drugs to you, addicting yet alluring. You can't help but bite his lip in return, trying to stay quiet for him. His cock now fucking into you with rhythm, and you let out a moan. "Shh, wouldn't want to let daddy know what his friend is doing to his daughter, now would we?" His chuckle is deep and rich with lust.
His back with light scratches from you, your neck with two visible love bites. His hand goes to your tummy rubbing it and looking into your eyes, "Look at you, so perfect and even more so if I fucked my kids into you," his beard tickles the skin of your jaw as he whispers. A knock from the door, "R/N, Ale, you ready?" A surprise he and you were in the room to begin with. Another innocent question he gave you months ago. The surprise in the closet as your cunt gets filled with his cock. You clear your throat, "Almost done Dad, fixing a few stuff." you call out the lie. "Alright honey," your dad responds and heads back to the longue. "mmm, what a bad liar, mi corazon," a smirk like the devil as he notices your hand fly to the one he had on your clit.
"C'mon, let go for me," he ensures. Your head is thrown back as your juices leak all over his thick and needy cock. He smiles, "That's it, that's a good girl," he watches you ride this high. Your hips rocked into his cock, his pre-cum leaking into you. "Oh, what beautiful face you have, R/N," he grins, adoring how you try your best to keep quiet as he brings you to the first orgasm of the night. He holds your hips, thrusts become faster and whispered groans escape his lips. "Ale...Ale" desperate whispers leave your lips. "I know, Chula," his voice soft. The tip of his fat cock, filling your walls with his cum. You can feel him fill you up, cum leaking out as he continues to thrust.
Hard and slow thrusts that turn to whispers of sweet nothings, that's what he offers as he wipes the tears from your pretty face. "Ay mi amor, don't cry," he kisses your forehead before trailing down to your cheeks and lips. He pulled out and laid next to you, big arms holding you. Your head resting on his chest, hair brushed by his fingers. "You really are a dream, R/N." His gaze is on the ceiling. Naked bodies lay together, resting from the high you gave the other. Kisses to his chest before he brings those kisses back to his lips. New promises made, corruption, possession, love and secrecy. The young and beautiful, the soldier and corruptor, kissing to lock the deal.
Tags: @sharkssharkssharkssharks @warningofeve @constantlypr0crastinating @sswweetteerr @tokkitak @kit-kats06 @vivii-annx @cooliofango @radiantblog
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arcanefox207 · 8 months ago
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 1)
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 8k
Part 1 / ? (Ongoing Series)
Summary: Set in fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). This chapter includes smut with fingering and cum eating. Dominant Joel. Eventual Angst. Drinking Alcohol. Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. 
Chapter Excerpt: He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you.
A/N: Please hang in there. This chapter has a lot of setup and is a bit of a slow burn. Its also my first fic and I am pouring my heart and soul into it.
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N
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“Remember, if you need anything you can ask Joel. He knows his way around the house” your mother reminds you. 
“Thanks, I will be fine but I’ll keep that in mind.” You appease her but have no intention of bothering her neighbor.
“Love you, honey. Talk later!”
“Bye mom. Love you.” You end the call and slump back against the couch. This was going to be your home for the next few months. Your parents had gone south to avoid the brutal New England winter and had offered their summer vacation home in Kineo to you in the interim. No rent and plenty of free time to figure out what to do with your life next. All you had to do was pay the utilities and keep an eye on things.
The offer was genuine but also came from a place of concern. You had spent the last few years living a more-or-less nomadic life and poorly indulging your dreams of adventure. Your bachelors degree in Liberal Arts proving to be as useless as everyone told you it would be. It got you jobs easy enough but nothing that felt like a long term career. It all felt directionless but you also had been hell bent on proving everyone else wrong and keeping up the appearance that you were doing just fine. 
Your past relationships were nothing too exciting either. Months of casually dating someone and it not really going anywhere or random hookups that you regretted the next day. One or two guys you were getting serious with but ultimately scared you off when they started talking about a family in their big picture. You were starting to get cynical about any compatible prospects.
You are only 29 and wonder if a midlife crisis before your 30’s is normal. At least, that is what it felt like was happening. You had been treading water for too long and felt like you were too tired to keep swimming.
Your mother finally wore you down enough when your lease was up at your Boston apartment and you had no real obligations. You hated your current job, your roommates were little more than acquaintances and the busy city life scene was starting to lose its charm especially when it was astronomically expensive to live there. It was getting harder to say no so you agreed to her offer. 
You had to admit living in the country sounded like a nice change. You had a few months to figure stuff out and the thought of something new was exciting to you. Even if it meant continuing to endure the bitter winter, you had a chance to start fresh somewhere new. Something different. 
You didn’t grow up here and spent most of your life living in suburban homes with slightly warmer climates. Your parents had bought a small one bedroom vacation home in a sleepy New England town that they mostly only enjoyed in the prime summer months. The home sat mostly vacant otherwise. They would rent it out for weeks at a time but in the winter months no one from away wanted to go there. Too far from ski resorts and civilization to be of interest to a casual vacationer. It had a lake that drew much attention from outsiders only when it wasn’t frozen. The town was reduced to just the year-round locals in the coldest months.
Your new residence was outside the main populous of Kineo and nearby the lake. In fact, you could see the lake peeking through the thick pine trees out the front window if you looked hard enough. 
The closest and only neighbor in sight was the handyman your parents raved about across the street. He kept an eye on the place while they were away. You had never interacted with him on your occasional summer visits, but knew he had been kind to your folks and heard about him often enough. You occasionally saw him out in his yard from afar and he would give a lazy wave to your parents in passing. You never really got a good look at him up close but from what you could see he looked rugged and fit and always wore jeans and work boots. He had a modest waterfront cabin across the street and seemed to keep to himself.
You had arrived just a few days ago and already had a job lined up at the local coffee shop, Grind. You were getting your caffeine fix and saw a help wanted sign in their window and you had no trouble securing the job when you chatted with the owner. She hired you on the spot and seemed desperate but grateful that you actually had enthusiasm for coffee and knew your Americanos from your Lattes. Grind Coffee House was on the main drag along with some other quaint shops. It was charming enough and an easy 10 minute drive from your house. The pay was pitiful but would be enough to get by. Things seemed to be lining up perfectly.
You went to bed early that night and felt optimistic that this was going to be good for you. This was going to be the reset that you craved. A new adventure. It was like nothing you had experienced before and maybe that was exactly what you needed.
Shit. Your first day working at Grind and you can’t even get the car to start. 
It was freezing cold. The kind of cold that hurts when it touches your exposed skin. You turn the key in the ignition again and the engine makes a pathetic attempt to turn over. Nothing. Fuck. 
You turn the key again. Nothing. Fuck fuck fuck. You pull out your phone and realize you have no idea what to do other than call your new boss and make a horrible first impression. No, that wasn’t going to do. You look in the rearview mirror and see across the street that lights are on at your neighbors house, despite the early hour. As quickly as the thought crosses your mind you push it away. No. No way were you going to bother him at this hour. You hadn’t even officially met the guy yet.
You pull up Google on your phone and scan the first few results for “car won’t start” and narrow it down to engine troubles or dead battery. Either outcome is something you are not equipped to handle. 
A few moments pass and you reluctantly weigh the options. Would a garage even be open this early? How long would that take to get someone out there? You were wasting time and had to do something. You curse to yourself and go back inside the house.
You walk over to the fridge where a note is hanging front and center “Joel Miller” with a phone number neatly printed. Your mothers careful handwriting to contact the poor neighbor that she probably harasses all the time. You sigh and open your phone to dial the number.
It rings a few times, and then you hear a gravelly voice that catches you off guard. 
“Hello?” A deep and thick, unfamiliar accent answers. Not what you were expecting. 
“Hi, Mr. Miller.” a long pause and you stumble over your words. “I uh, I’m sorry to call you so early. I'm Rick and Linda’s daughter.” and mumble your name. Another pause. 
“Ah, right. Whatcha need, kid?” He asks with little expression in his tone. You can’t tell if he is annoyed or just sounded that way. 
“My car won’t start and I–” you pause, not too sure how to ask for help from a stranger. “I don’t know what to do...” Your voice trails off with uncertainty on how to ask for help or what you are even expecting. 
You hear a long exhale on the other end, like he is letting all the air out of his lungs while he is thinking on it. 
“Dead battery most likely… on a day like this. I’ll be right over.” He hangs up the phone before you can say another word and instead say thank you out loud to yourself and let your voice trail off. You instantly regret making the call.
You zip up your coat, pull your knit hat snug over your ears and head back outside when you see a black Ford pickup truck ease into your driveway. A tall man wearing a brown suede jacket approaches. The morning light is faint but you can make out that he is much older and has some silver streaking his hair and beard. He looks weathered and rugged but also has a warmness about him that is hard to reconcile with his rough exterior.     
“Joel Miller, I presume?” you nervously laugh and awkwardly introduce yourself for the second time. You attempt to be extra friendly and maybe penetrate his bristly wall. It seems to help when he notices you are a young woman and not some bratty teenager that your parents probably made you out to be. He takes a step forward and reaches a hand out towards you, nodding. He firmly shakes your hand and you are taken aback by how his grasp seems to engulf you.
“Pleasure to meet you, darling.” His voice is smooth and polite and has the tiniest hint of playfulness in his tone. You can’t place his accent, but you know it isn’t from around here and only someone from away would say ‘Darling’ so casually to a stranger. 
His dark brown eyes hold your gaze for a moment and he has the faintest smirk as he subtly scans your body. It sends goosebumps down your spine. You are grateful that you made an extra effort to look cute for your first day of work. You realize your hands are still embraced and nervously laugh as you pull away. He gets right down to business, but not before stealing another peek of your body when he thinks you aren’t looking.  
“Lets see what we got here.'' He climbs into the driver's seat and in no time confirms it's the battery when he hears your car's engine protest. He walks over to his tailgate and brings back some jumper cables. 
You stand there with your arms wrapped around your body trying to hold in as much warmth as possible. Your bare hands clenched in a fist and tucked in as far as they could in your jacket sleeve to shelter from the cold. Your teeth chattering as you try to stand out of the way but want to be nearby too. At least give the illusion you can be helpful if he needs something. You regret your first meeting being a clueless damsel in distress, but maybe he liked that sort of thing. His tune did seem to change once he saw you. 
Joel returns and leans over the edge of the seat leaving the door wide open, his large palm dragging up slowly from the floor to the steering column, searching for the hood release. His finger catches on the button and he pops the hood. It’s hard not to stare at him while he slides his expert hands with reckless abandon.
His eyes find yours and the corner of his mouth raises slightly. You question if you are mistaking his caught you watching me look for more than what it was. He seems to enjoy you watching him work. He steps away from the seat and pulls a pair of work gloves from his back pocket as he works to connect your car to his truck with the jumper cables. He starts his truck back up and approaches you. Your breath and his making little frozen clouds as you exhale. 
“You can sit in my truck if you want, it’s plenty warm in there.” He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder. “This will just be a minute.” You thank him and take him up on his offer and climb into his passenger seat. He has a classical rock station playing on the radio. A thermos sitting in the center console. You glance in the back seat and see some neatly organized tools and miscellaneous junk on the floor. It smells metallic and leathery. 
You outstretch your hands to the vents that are pouring warm air into the cabin and relish the heat.  
A few moments pass and you don’t see much of what’s going on with the hood of the truck blocking your view. You doom scroll on Instagram to keep yourself busy but your mind keeps thinking about Joel. You were in no way prepared for your neighbor to be so fucking handsome. It felt absurd to be so turned on by him.
He’s too old. You tell yourself. Don’t even think about it. 
Your thoughts are interrupted as the hood slams shut and Joel opens the driver's door. He reaches his arm out to grab his thermos while he climbs into the seat with a groan. The door shuts hard behind him and a blast of cold air invades your space briefly.  
“Damn cold one today” He says it with a huff as more of an observation than a complaint. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks over to you. You nod in agreement and find yourself caught up in what to say to him. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them in his backseat. He rests his arm along the back of the seat and it is nearly touching your shoulder. The way his body takes up the space makes you feel small and helpless. Then, you remember you are small and helpless compared to him. He doesn’t feel threatening towards you but you certainly does give off the aura that he could be intense in the right circumstance. You find that undeniably attractive.
“Your folks called me last week. Told me you were gonna be staying here a while.” His eyes are back focused on you. “Meant to come over this weekend and introduce myself.” he seems a little nervous and takes another sip of his coffee. “Didn’t wanna bother you, though.” 
You feel a small smile start to grow on your face. The thought that he shared the same reservations brought comfort. Joel rests his thermos between his legs while still holding it with one hand. He looks like he is hesitating to say something but does it anyway. He looks over at you with tender eyes, 
“Didn’t expect.. You know...” He makes an unreadable expression as he is searching for the words and scans your body up and down. “Someone like you.” You were not entirely sure what he meant by that, but his smoldered stare on your body made you feel hot inside and your cheeks flush. He looked at you with intrigue and it made you feel good. It made you feel wanted. It had been too long since you felt that way.  
In fact, it has been too long since you had any sort of relationship. Even a casual lay.  
“You really saved my ass this morning. Thank you.” You pause and feel yourself giving a sultry gaze back at him. “I owe you one.” Joel makes a no big deal gesture with his hand and a cocky smile as he chews the inside of his cheek. In that brief moment you feel something between the two of you. The desire to flirt; tempt a man with at least 20 years on you. An unexpected but undeniable magnetic pull. A curiosity to learn what lies beneath. A forbidden fruit that is ripe and beckoning for you to take a bite. Something different. Something exciting. Something you know you should stifle before it even begins.  
His eyes reflect the same sentiment but also harbor concern and restraint. It’s a bad idea. The brief silence between you looms loudly. The elephant in the room. 
“Where ya’ off to so early anyways?” he asks, eager to change the subject. He takes another sip of his coffee while you reply.
“Oh, first day working at Grind. You know it?” Joel's demeanor changes in a subtle way that you may not have seen if you weren’t so focused on trying to read him.  
“Oh. Yeah..” he chides and looks down, pensive in thought as he brings his hand to the back of his neck and rakes it through his hair. “I know the place.” He glances back up and avoids eye contact. The bite in his voice does not go unnoticed, but you don’t pry. 
An uncomfortable subject; noted.   
“Better coffee than this I reckon” he says as he places his thermos back in the center console. He attempts to lighten the tone and then glances at his watch.
“I gotta get to work, sweetheart. Keep your car runnin’ for a bit and you should be all set. Probably get that battery replaced.” His tone is more serious now, more business-like. You realize you had been waiting in his truck longer than necessary. You really have to get to work anyways. 
You thank him again and return to your car. He waits for you to get in and raises his fingers off his steering wheel in a lazy wave to signal he was leaving. He backs out of your driveway and heads down the road towards town.
You take a deep breath and adjust the knobs in your car. Joel had put everything on high heat and full blast for you and your car was now unbearably toasty. You tune your radio and ease into the road and on your way to work. 
All the while your mind can’t stop thinking about your charming, handyman neighbor. 
So that's Joel Miller. You smile to yourself and faintly feel butterflies in your stomach. Anxious thoughts that excite and frighten you.  
It took Marlene all of five minutes to become your new work bestie. She was efficient and smart and knew her way around the place. She was the only one working when you arrived and despite the line of customers she was friendly and teased you for arriving late on your first day. 
Marlene had great rapport with everyone. It was apparent that the customers were all regulars and she wasted no time introducing you to them. She had a somewhat forward style but it was well received because she knew exactly what she was doing and didn’t waste time being flowery and over the top. It reminded you of the brashness of Boston.
After the morning rush things were relatively calm. You had time to chat and get to know her a little more while she was showing you the ropes. It wasn’t complicated and you were a quick study.
By mid afternoon it was time to close up shop. The hours were a perk. You were scheduled to work weekdays from open till close and would have to occasionally help out on Saturdays. Marlene worked the same shift and the weekends were mostly covered by high schoolers. 
It was just after 2 o’clock when the owner, Tess, stopped by. 
“How did it go?” she asks you both as she takes a seat and rests her bag on the counter. Marlene had no intention of telling her you were late and talked you up, pleased with your presence. Tess had a few other properties she owned so her time at the coffee shop was only as needed and Marlene you learnt was more or less the one who ran things day to day. 
You recap the day and thank her again for the job. You did genuinely enjoy the work. It was easy. Simple and straightforward. You got to know lots of town folk and everyone was curious and interested in meeting the new girl in town.
Tess seemed pleased enough and was quick to head out. She was friendly but brief and gave the impression she had other responsibilities that demanded her attention. She joins you behind the counter briefly and pours herself a black hot coffee in a to-go cup. Another perk of the job was indulging in all the free coffee. 
“Let me know if you guys need anything!” She says energetically as she collects her bag and heads out the door. She flips the sign to “closed” as she leaves. 
“Tess is cool. She doesn’t interfere too much and we only see her a few times a week, if that.” You nod to acknowledge Marlene. “Lets finish cleaning up and get out of here.”
It was nice leaving with the sun bright and warm. Winter meant shorter days, so getting out of work with a few hours of daylight felt luxurious. The bitter cold from the morning had made its departure. 
You had been so focused with work it wasn’t until you got back to your car that you allowed yourself to think about Joel again. You know you shouldn’t but can’t help feeling turned on at the thought of him. He was handsome in that brooding, mysterious way and he emanated competence. It was refreshing and welcomed. 
You decided to send him a text message. You had his number in your recent contacts after all and you were curious if he would play along. You were certain that there was something sparked between the two of you, but unsure if he would act on it. Unsure if there were too many obstacles between you.
You keep it simple and friendly.   
You: Thanks again for your help! 
Your car starts up with no issue and you head home. When you arrive you glance down to your phone to see a simple reply. 
Joel: Anytime
It was brief but you couldn’t help but read it with that low, southern drawl. His voice was so distinct. Polite but stern. You add him as a contact in your phone and wonder if he did the same. 
You take a shower, make some dinner and get comfortable in your bed. It’s early and you watch some TV when you hear your phone chime. You glance at your phone and see Joel Miller has you on his mind as he revives the conversation with you. 
Joel: So how did it go? 
You smile and recount this feeling like you were a teenager talking to your crush. You want to gush about your first day but you play it cool and brief. 
You: Went good, I think I’ll like it there
A few minutes pass. Against your better judgment you start to go into details but delete it before you hit send. You recalled his strange reaction earlier when you brought up Grind. This man has you second guessing yourself and you don’t want to blow it before it even begins. He replies instead before you elaborate.
Joel: Glad to hear. Thought you would. 
You: I’m exhausted though, getting to bed
You decide to be playful and see how he reacts. 
You: Goodnight, Mr. Miller.  
Joel: Just Joel. 
Joel: Goodnight darling
Darling. Even if it was just a typical Southern phrase it made you wild. It was uncommon to hear in the north and felt so endearing and warm. The knots in your stomach return as you struggle to fall asleep. Your mind is too excited to see where things go from here. You knew he was interested in you enough to keep talking. It would have been easy for him to end the conversation there and keep things formal and neighborly. 
Your mind wanders thinking about how truly handsome he is. How badly you want his manly, rough hands on your body. How his voice makes you melt. How his domineering  presence makes you tingle in your core. You feel yourself starting to get wet just at the thought of his body and what you wanted to do to it. What you wanted him to do to you. Sinful thoughts.
You slide your hand between your legs and feel yourself already wet and wanting. Your delicate fingers tease circles over your clit and it doesn’t take long before you get off. You feel ashamed to be lusting over an old man you barely know, but nevertheless wish it was Joel’s rough hands on you.   
You wonder if he is doing the same thing and sharing the same thoughts about you.
A few uneventful days go by and now it’s Friday. You haven’t seen much of Joel other than his truck occasionally driving off, but he had been stuck on your mind all week. Lonely nights accompanied by dirty thoughts of Joel that only fueled your yearning to get closer to him. Your inhibitions regarding age and disapproval of your parents were blinded by your building desire. It still weighed on you though. Your parents would be appalled and probably disown you if they knew. It would just be another tick on the disappointment list.   
Work is busy and the day flies by. Just a few hours to go. You are taking a break, sitting at one of the tables by the front window and snacking on a blueberry scone. You reason with yourself that tonight is as good as any to try to make something happen. 
You: You doing anything tonight?
An agonizing hour passes and no reply. Your message is on read. Marlene takes notice of your change in demeanor. When things finally slow down and its just the two of you waiting around to close up she presses you.
“So.. whats going on? You look distant.” 
“Just trying to… make friends here.” You pause. “A friend in particular.” Your voice trails off. Marlene catches on quick and she had suspected you were starting to fall for someone. 
“Anyone I know?” Marlene knows everyone. You don’t want her judgment on the matter so you keep it vague.
“My neighbor. He doesn’t seem the type to come to a place like this though.” Your phone chimes and you try to play down your excitement as you look down and see it’s from Joel. You can barely contain a smile. 
Joel: Just got done a job. No plans
Marlene searches your face and rolls her eyes.  
“Just go over then. Easy enough.” she was right. 
“Yeah, I think I will.” 
The rest of the shift goes by quickly and you are both out the door by 3 o’clock.
You sit in your car and decide to just call him already. You were craving to hear his voice again and you wanted to put him on the spot. He answers quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Joel. I still owe you, you know for helping me out earlier.” Joel sighs in defeat. 
“I see you aint lettin’ that go. What did ya have in mind?” 
“Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring over drinks.” Your offer was more forward than you intended, but you went with it.
“Yeah, ok. Sounds good.” He pauses and has a counter offer for you. “Come over for dinner first?” You melt at the thought and realize you haven’t responded and there is a silence while you are getting lost in your thoughts. “Grilling steaks. Nothin’ fancy.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.” You can feel your smile spilling into the phone. That sounds more than good. It sounds really fucking good.  
“Alright. Come over ‘round 7.” 
“Ok. See you tonight.” You end the call and take a deep breath. Your heart is beating out of your chest in excitement. 
Getting ready for the night you attempted a relaxed look. You wanted to look nice, but approachable. You had some worn jeans that tucked neatly into your Bean boots. A button down flannel that you left undone over an intentionally low cut, fitted shirt. It accented your chest just right. You wore your hair down and went light on the makeup. You threw on a light leather jacket and grabbed the six pack of beer as you head across the street. 
Joel opens the door and leans in the doorframe with a casual figure, taking you in while he bites his lip,
“Evening' sweetheart” He steps back and holds the door open for you and gestures to come in. He was definitely a gentleman. You normally are not a fan of the pet names, but he worked them into his vocabulary so smoothly it was welcomed. 
You step inside and turn around, holding up the six pack of beer.
“Sam Adams. That ok?” He shuts the door and nods in approval. “Figured I’d bring some Boston culture over.” You step further inside. His kitchen is just off the main entrance and has an island with some bar stools at it. You make your way over and take a seat and rest the case on the countertop. 
Your eyes scan the room. His kitchen is tidy, save the spot where he prepped the steaks. You see an empty whiskey glass. Evidence that he had at least one stiff drink before you came over. You panic a little and regret not doing the same.  
“That where you lived before this?” He interrupts your thought as he stands across you at the island. His crossed forearms holding him up as he leans towards you with intrigue. He is dressed plainly in a pair of worn jeans and a plain navy blue t-shirt that hugs his arms just right. His biceps bulge as he is leaning forward and your mind is now preoccupied with just how broad his shoulders are. You almost forgot he asked you a question.
“Yeah, for a few years anyways.” You briefly recount, distracted when Joel takes a beer bottle from the case and effortlessly pops the cap with his large, calloused hands. A satisfying hiss escapes the bottle followed by a clink as the cap falls to the countertop. He slides it over to you and repeats the motion again for himself.
“Oh, wow.” you say out loud, without realizing it. Joel has that cocky side smirk again, well aware of his impressive party trick. He holds the bottle up and towards you and you do the same, clanking bottle necks together and taking a sip. Your eyes are locked on each other for a moment; trying to read each other's intentions.  
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m gonna put the steaks on.” he gestures his head to the back door that leads onto the deck. He grabs his suede jacket off the back of a chair and walks towards the back entrance. You trail behind and this was the first time you really noticed just how beautiful his home was. 
His open living room and kitchen had a vaulted ceiling with massive windows lining the whole back side of the cabin. It faced the lake and you could imagine how serene it would be to watch the sunrise. The cedar walls and flooring made it feel cozy and inviting. There was a large wood stove in the center of the living room and an open loft above the back of the living room. The deck seemed to wrap along a good part of the home. 
“Your home is beautiful.” It had looked so much more discrete from the road; tucked behind some pines and a long driveway. The backyard was a short distance to the lake and sloped slightly down to a dock. Joel probably had a boat parked there in the summer. The cabin was perched perfectly with a breathtaking view; isolated and private from the world.
“Thank you. I built it myself. Me and my brother Tommy.” 
“Thats… impressive.” 
“Eh, just comes with being a contractor. Made more sense to build my own place the way I wanted.” There it was again, that feeling in your core that excites you. Joel likes to be in control, and he has the skill set to back it up making it all the more alluring. 
Its a cool night, but not uncomfortably cold to be outside for a few minutes with a jacket. In fact, you are grateful to have the crisp air to help ground you and calm you down. It was embarrassing how easily Joel could work you up. You lean over the railing and gaze out over the lake while he tends to the grill for a moment and then joins you at the railing.
“I spent a few years there myself. Boston.” This was news to you, but you were still curious about his Southern accent. 
“And… before?” 
“Texas.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Most my life.” You smile and give a slight laugh. 
“Well, that certainly explains things. You don’t exactly sound like a New Englander” you tease him. Joel laughs and looks a little distant. Something you have come to realize about Joel is that he has a lot on his mind he doesn’t say out loud. His mysterious demeanor was something you found as attractive as it was frustrating. 
“You like it here so far?” He asks.
“I do. Its simple and peaceful. Life is easy here.” you realize while saying this out loud that you mean it. You really are enjoying your time in Kineo more than you ever had expected. “And… my neighbor isn’t so bad.” You tease. Joel rolls his eyes and returns to the grill, pulling the steaks off.
“Mine is a pain in the ass.” He jokes as he closes the grill. He wasn’t wrong. You were persistent if anything. 
Dinner is laid back and enjoyable. He has a small dining room table but you choose to sit next to each other at the island drinking your Sam Adams and enjoying your ribeye steaks. Joel cooked them to perfection. You stay seated long after you are done eating, getting carried away with conversation. Your bodies are facing each other and knees knocking into his as you get animated with your storytelling. 
Joel mostly listens while you ramble on. The more you drink the lower your inhibitions get. You are a lightweight to begin with and it doesn’t take much. You don’t even notice that he isn’t really listening to you anymore. His focus has left your well intended words and shifted to your body. He’s looking at your low-cut shirt teasing him. The way you brush your hair out of your face when you laugh. How your neck looks so inviting when you tilt your head back to take a sip of beer, You don’t register that he is eyeing you crudely like you are a piece of meat. That he is fighting every urge inside him to just lose himself with you. 
He inches his hand along the countertop closer to yours until he is grazing your wrist with a light touch and dragging his fingers back across yours. It sends a shiver through your body as you become aware how he is looking at you and how painfully reserved his touch is. It is polite but intrusive. He watches how it makes you feel. How you start to come undone. 
Your pent up feelings are starting to overwhelm you and you excuse yourself reluctantly. Your heart starts to race and you wonder if he can hear it beating. 
You get up and bring your plate over to the sink to wash it. It is a distraction more than anything while you gather yourself. Joel watches you from behind for a moment. You can feel his gaze burning into you and brace yourself against the counter. You like the way it feels. The way he makes you feel wanted. 
That loud silence returns. The air in the room feels heavy. He joins you at the sink and you can feel his heat envelop you as he approaches you from behind. His broad body boxes you in and makes you feel small and vulnerable. 
Joel takes his hands and dances his fingers down your arms lightly. His touch starts a fire inside you and you crave a heavier hold. You need him like you need air in your lungs. He presses a gentle kiss behind your ear and another one drags to your jawline and to the soft meat of your neck. His coarse beard scrapes against your skin and makes you shudder. You press your ass into him and feel him hard against your lower back. He responds by pressing into you firmly and brings his mouth to your ear. 
“You feel what you do to me, beautiful girl?” He asks with his low, gravely voice and presses another kiss into you. His heat is searing into you. 
He agonizingly slides his hands down to your hips and turns you to face him. He pushes your body gently against the countertop and moves one of his hands up to caress your face. He presses his hips into you and holds your chin gently between his thumb and finger. He stares down at you with a thirst in his eyes. He narrows his focus to try to get a reading on you. Your mouths are just inches apart. There is a hunger he is resisting but the wolf inside is slowly starting to win over reason. 
“I want this, Joel.” You stare up at him and make sure he can see the desire in your eyes and that you are serious. You want to remove any hesitations he has on your account. You try to rock your hips into him but he has you pinned. He can feel your needy attempt.  
“We shouldn’t…” Joel pleads, but his words are empty and not speaking the same language as his body. 
Your age, your parents, your unfamiliarity with one another all should be reason enough to quelch this flame, but it just makes you want it that much more. He has wanted you since he first laid eyes on you that morning he came to your rescue. He wants to be respectful but fails, instead teasing you with how much he wants you. The hesitance is an illusion that he has kept up until that moment. Your body is trapped against his and he is looking at you like you are prey in his clutches. You had suspected and even hoped that Joel was a dominant lover with how confident he carried himself.   
You seize the opportunity to show him just what he is doing to you. 
You push your tongue into him and taste him; sweet and malty. His warm and wet mouth is inviting and intense. All reluctancy fades away as he gives in to you and takes control with his tongue. You can feel his cock is hard and straining against his jeans as he rocks into you. Your arms hang around his neck and tangle into his hair as you grind against each other. The friction of both your bodies sending each other into a frenzy.
He drags his mouth away, biting at your lower lip as he moves along your jawline to the soft skin at your neck. You stretch your head back giving him full access to your bare neck as he nips at you hungrily. His scruffy beard rubs roughly against your supple skin and feels so good. One hand roams up your shirt while his mouth traces lower and lower down to your collarbone. He thumbs and circles over your nipple. He can feel it harden through your bra and engulfs your breast with his large hand. His touch is brazen but you welcome it. You can feel just how badly he wants to devour you and it makes you moan.   
He slides his expert hand from your breast and drags it down to your jeans. He unbuttons them hastily with force and works his hand slowly inside. Your underwear is already wet from your arousal. He pulls his mouth away from you and has a devilish grin as he grabs at your pussy and narrows his eyes on you.
“You’re so wet for me.” He says breathlessly with anticipation while he has you in his grasp. 
He slides his hand inside your waistband and teases your clit as his hand slides against you. You want to reply to him but your words are trapped beneath the moans caught in your throat. He brings a finger to your opening and slowly pushes the tip inside you. The pressure from his large, calloused fingers makes you buck into him. He rubs his thumb over your clit as he slowly teases your entrance with his finger. He takes it slow and when he thinks you are ready he slips another one inside.
You can feel your walls clench around his obscenely thick fingers and he pushes deeper. Twisting and playing at your entrance and thrusting in. Your hips writhe in his grasp. While one hand is busy with your cunt the other has an iron grip on the back of your neck. His mouth messily returns to the soft skin above your collarbone and into the crook of your neck. You are completely at his mercy and can’t imagine any other place you’d want to be. 
You are so tight but he stretches you open artfully. Moans escape your lips as you gasp when his fingers dip further into you, reaching that perfect part deep inside. 
“Come for me.” He pants into you with a snarl as you convulse on him.  
He doesn’t let up and fucks you relentlessly with his fingers until you are coming and moaning his name. Incoherent expletives escape you while you soak him.   
You ride the wave of pleasure for as long as you can. It has been too long since you had fucked around with someone. However, no one had ever so masterfully gotten you off with just their fingers. The way he handled your body and worshiped you with his mouth was intoxicating. 
As you come down from your high he slides his wet fingers from inside you and pulls his mouth away with a final ravenous kiss on your swollen lips. He places a kiss on top of your head and pulls you in close for an embrace. The hard protrusion against your body makes itself painfully known.   
Joel presses his forehead against yours as he works to unzip his jeans and free himself. His fingers are wet with your slick. He smirks at you as his hand glides over his swollen cock and rubs your wetness all over his length. His breathing shallows as he strokes himself with one hand and braces his body on the countertop with the other. His swollen head grazes your belly with each thrust into his fist. 
You watch him wantonly as he palms himself with more vigor. Joel’s cock is thick and intimidating, but you crave it in the worst way. It is by far the largest you have ever seen. It glistens in your slick and the precum that was beading at the head. A desire builds inside you and you yearn for more of Joel. Want him in your hands, your mouth, your cunt.  
“Let me, please?” your voice comes out barely above a whisper. His hand slows and comes to a stop. He stretches out his arms to hold him up against the counter as he hovers above you and lets you take over. 
You reach out and grab on to him. You marvel at its size and how weighty it feels in your hands as you start to rub them up and down. His skin is hot and velvety smooth and pulled tightly. Your pace is much slower but more precise. You feel the veins bulge under your grasp as your fingers glide up and down his length.  
A moan hitches in his throat as you rub your thumb over his sensitive tip. You do it again and again. Teasing Joel Miller feels dangerous. You can feel how ragged he is and how close he is to coming. You want to make him come undone.  
“God, damn it.” Joel grunts under his breath. He peels back your hand and painfully pulls it off of him. His cock twitches at the loss of your touch. He stands up straight and towers over you as you shrink back.  
“Get on your knees.” He commands with his hand firmly on your wrist as he pulls your face closer to his. It sends a shiver through your body and you oblige. Any warmth in his eyes has been lost and he is staring at you; dark and menacing. He throws your wrist away and grips his hand along the side of your neck. His touch is rough and urgent. His fingers snake around to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer to him while you drop down. They twist into your hair and he has a hold on the back of your head. It doesn’t hurt, but his grasp is firm and might if you tried to fight it.  
He takes his cock back in his grasp with his other hand and pumps it. His movements are jerky and his breathing is labored. You can tell he is so close. He roughly pulls your head back by your hair to look up at him.
“You gonna’ finish what you started?” he asks with darkened eyes. “Then open up.” He commands you through clenched teeth. 
You respond with an uncontainable smirk. You part your mouth slowly and let your tongue hang out, never taking your eyes off his. You sit back onto your knees so that you are slightly under him and wait patiently. He widens his stance. His hand slides to the top of your head and tangles in your hair. You can feel him slowly starting to lose control and come undone before you while he strokes himself. You brace yourself, hooking your fingers into the back of his thighs and clawing at his jeans. You can smell his sex and feel his heat but he holds you just out of reach and makes you wait while your thirst grows. 
Finally he taps the head of his weighty cock against your tongue and you lick at his slit, sending him over the edge. He groans as his thick spend coats your tongue and drips messily onto your chin. You close your mouth around him as he begins to stall out and swallow, pulling the final drops of cum from him while you choke his cock with your mouth. 
“Good girl.” He rasps at you. “So fucking good.” His grip on you loosens and he tenderly drags his hand along your jawline. You relax your mouth and let him slide himself out. He groans when your tongue licks the underside of him as he pulls out. 
He thumbs over some of his mess that falls out of your mouth and curls his thumb over your bottom lip. You lick him clean and he moves to hold your face in his hands while you look up at him.
“My good girl.” His words shoot straight to your core and make you weak. He brushes your hair behind your ear and helps you up. He places another kiss on your head and wraps his arms around you. His hot and heavy body feels so good against yours. You tilt your head up and press your mouth into him one more time.
“Are we even now?” you joke. Joel smiles. Everything about him feels warmer. He peels himself away from you and steps back, leaning against the island. You adjust your clothes and zip yourself back up while he does the same.
“Actually… think I might owe you now.” Joel says with a playful tone. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and shakes his head at you like he can’t believe his predicament. You like the idea of Joel owing you. 
You don’t spend the night. He offers to walk you home but you opt to go alone. It felt good to get some fresh air, to clear your head and recap the night. You also wanted to leave him wanting more.
You weren’t sure what would come from this situation with Joel, but you knew you barely scratched the surface with him. He was rough around the edges but you liked that about him. You liked that a lot. 
END CHAPTER
(Part 2!)
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A/N: More to come! Undecided how many chapters but I have quite a bit mapped out. Please be kind. This is my first fic and it is nerve wrecking to post! If you loved it, PLEASE let me know. I'd love to know your thoughts so far! What did you like? What do you want more of? How much angst can your heart take? I aim to test it in future chapters. Comments/Reblogs are appreciated so much. Thank you all
Also special thanks to @magpiepills for the lovely cover photo (and her mood board inspirations she helped with along the way!) and to both her and @legendary-pink-dot for reading my first draft and giving their feedback AND courage to post this.
If you wish to know when I post the next chapter, please follow @ArcaneFoxFics and turn on notifications!
If you are here for my gifs only and are like WTF I dont want to see this mature content... you can follow me over at @ArcaneFoxGifs which will ONLY be reposts of my gif sets.
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Love to my friends who give me the courage and support to do all the things @magpiepillsjunior @legendary-pink-dot @exquisiteserotonin @youandmeand5bucks @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo
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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago
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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader
wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!
synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?
a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.
It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.
Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.
Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.
As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.
“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.
“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again. 
“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position. 
He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too. 
You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”
“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”
You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face. 
“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You had a plan.
A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.
Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.
You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.
Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.
You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet. 
“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”
You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”
Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence. 
When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”
You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”
Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”
“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.
“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”
“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”
“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle. 
You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”
After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.
“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”
You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”
“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?” 
You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”
Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip. 
“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”
This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.
“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”
You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.
“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it. 
You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward. 
Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage. 
You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”
It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”
“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest. 
“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”
“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were. 
“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”
You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”
“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”
“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”
“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”
Oh. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.
“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.
You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.
Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.
Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”
“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips. 
You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.
You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.
Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet. 
Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top. 
He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”
You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”
Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?
You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”
“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“
“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.
Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”
With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.
He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?
“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”
Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”
“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.
“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”
He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”
At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.
“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”
You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”
“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”
You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”
“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”
You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind. 
Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away. 
Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.” 
You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“
Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.
Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.
You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly. 
“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“
Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”
You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”
“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”
He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.
Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.
“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding. 
You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”
Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“
You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.
“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”
Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.
You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.
Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.
“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss. 
You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.
“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.
“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”
“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.
Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.
“What are you-“
You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly. 
“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”
Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued. 
His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock. 
“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.” 
You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“
Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”
You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”
“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?” 
You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”
Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.
“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“
“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.
“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered. 
“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”
You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.
“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”
“Shit.” You agreed.
“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable. 
“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”
Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.
“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.
Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.
“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”
“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”
Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”
“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“
You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.
You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held. 
They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.
The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour. 
Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.
“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”
“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”
“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”
“Huh?!”
Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”
“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”
Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”
“Yeah.”
He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”
Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”
“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”
“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”
“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”
“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”
Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?” 
You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”
Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”
You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?
Wait.
You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying. 
It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.
Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.
You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance. 
“Are you ready, dear?” 
You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”
Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”
You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration. 
You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.
You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day. 
She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.
The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly. 
Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”
They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.
Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.
You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.
Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.
He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.
The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”
You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.
In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.
Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?
Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well. 
“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”
Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…
Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.
This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”
Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”
You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.
Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.
Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”
You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash. 
In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.
You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.
Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you. 
Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.
Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.
You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-
The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”
“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort. 
“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”
You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”
Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.” 
“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas! 
After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.
Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-” 
You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth. 
You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this. 
Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”
You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss. 
He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”
“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.
Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish. 
Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.
“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”
“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”
“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.
“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”
You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”
Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.
When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife. 
Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”
“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.
You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.
“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”
Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could. 
Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.” 
Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”
You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it. 
“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“
You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”
Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”
“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs. 
You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so. 
With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.
Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out. 
Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.
“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”
Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.
You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”
Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”
You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”
Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust. 
His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"
"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.
“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.
All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”
You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.
"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.
“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“
You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.
Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin. 
There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”
You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”
“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.” 
“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”
“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”
You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.
You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.
You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-
Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.
You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.
The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes. 
You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.
You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.
You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.
“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”
You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”
Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”
Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?
“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“
“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”
Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”
Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”
She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear. 
You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.
You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.
This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.
Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.
You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.
“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.
“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”
You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.
You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”
“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”
You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”
“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”
“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”
“I’m in love with you.”
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
taglist: @moasworld . @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad . @queenofthegardengnomes . @boomfrogg . @hoeinthehouse . @msaddictions . @sunnyhonie . @hizliyuruyen . @jyu037 . @jouoy . @drhsthl . @seungincore . @jellylver . @veedoesntknaur . @meloncremesoda . @k-poplv . @livieloo914 . @fekixfmp . @fawnpeaks . @minnielvr . @imastraykidsfan . @hanjisung2023 . @hoelynecujoh . @kyrviu . @sxgeofprohets . @everydreams-penumbra . @chaneomma
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago
Text
Winter's King 18
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: It's Friday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 
“You well, mouse?” He growls. 
You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 
“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 
You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 
“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 
You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 
“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 
You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 
“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 
You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 
“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 
He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 
“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 
“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 
“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 
He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 
Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 
“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 
“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 
“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 
“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 
“And what about you?” You murmur. 
He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 
You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 
“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 
“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 
Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 
“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 
“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 
You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 
“It is... my duty.” 
You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 
“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 
You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 
“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 
⚔️
You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 
As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 
You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 
You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 
You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 
“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  
You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 
“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 
King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 
The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 
You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 
The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 
“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 
She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 
He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  
Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 
“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 
“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 
“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 
“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 
“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 
You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 
“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 
You gulp and gape at the large beast. 
“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 
He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 
“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 
You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 
The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 
“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 
“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 
“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 
“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 
You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 
The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 
“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 
You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 
“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 
Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 
“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 
You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 
“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 
You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 
Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 
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sarcasticscribbles · 9 months ago
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Thinking about a happily ever after AU
Jon wakes up next to Martin, confused as this isn't how he remembered falling asleep. Unable to recall the last time he was asleep, he pulls the curtains, and everything appears: normal. Martin groans softly in the background; it's early, and he had hoped to wake up before Jon today.
"Happy birthday," Martin mumbles as he stretches his arms out. Jon watches him, stunned.
"Get back in bed, at least let me make you breakfast," Martin bargains, and Jon doesn't have a response.
The birthday celebration consists of tea and toast—a slow morning. Still, Martin informs Jon that they'll meet the others tonight.
Tonight, the others. Basira, having taken an early retirement, is the first to the restaurant. She no longer works for the London Metropolitan Police nor the Institute. Reading a book as Jon and Martin arrive, she greets Jon with another "happy birthday."
Melanie and Georgie come together, Melanie with her hand in Georgie's, tapping her cane on the ground to see. Martin hugs them, and they greet Jon in a similar fashion.,
They chose this restaurant because Daisy hasn't had issues bringing her service dog here. Both Daisy and Basira are former police officers, aware of the Equality Act 2010, yet restaurants still refuse to let Daisy enter. Jon can't answer when Daisy wishes him a happy birthday, as to him, Daisy was shot and killed. She's calm, smiles, and sits across from him.
Tim and Sasha are late; their daughter Dani still isn't sleeping through the night, but they eventually arrive. Tim sports a beard neatly trimmed across his face. Jon can relate, as shaving over the worm scars tends to reopen them. He quickly embraces Martin and shakes Jon's shoulders when he doesn't respond.
"Happy birthday, boss," Tim says. Sasha is behind him—tall, with big glasses and long hair. Jon knows who she is.
They all gather around the table, admitting they weren't supposed to but bringing forward a wrapped present. Seeing everyone today has been enough of a gift to Jon, which is quickly laughed off because he's not supposed to be this sappy. Martin insists, and inside the box is an old tape recorder with a still tape inside it. Jon is hesitant to touch it, but the buttons don't seem to be working.
Maybe because he's free?
Or because, "this isn't real."
"No," Martin admits, looking at Jon after his revelation, "but I thought it would be nice."
And Jon wakes up on the hardwood floor in the Upton House. Martin is asleep, but the bright light and carefree morning are gone.
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toxicanonymity · 2 years ago
Note
Would you please write a boyfriend’s dad fic 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Maybe the bf ditches her while she’s on vacation with his family and Joel knows his son is a fuck up so he wants to show her what she’s missing
Sky’s out, thighs out
1.5k / boyfriend's dad!Joel x f!reader 
thighs out masterlist
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Warnings: NSFW 18+,  non-outbreak AU, big girthy age gap (unspecified), public, exhibitionism, oral & rimming (f receiving), unsafe P in V sex, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, use of daddy (prone bone anon). 
☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️🌤️☀️
You're sunbathing face-down in a pool chair and a shadow falls over your book.  Joel squats down in front of you.  “Hey,” he says gently.  You wipe your eyes under your sunglasses.  He takes your shades off, but leaves his own on.  “Don’t worry 'bout my dipshit son, okay? Not worth the tears." He catches one with his thumb as it rolls down your face. You glance up and he asks, "Wanna go for a swim or somethin’?”  You avoid your reflection in his shades. Your eyes fall to his meaty thighs which are stretching his short, retro swim trunks under his wife beater tank top.   He follows your eyes down, then his nose twitches, smugly tugging at one corner of his mouth.  “We could do that, too." He’s shameless, but you've ignored it so far.  
One day, lounging on the beach, he caught you looking. He said, “sky’s out, thighs out," then sensually rubbed his upper inner thigh. You said, “sky’s always out. . .”   “Exactly.”  His beard pattern only enhanced the mischief in his smile, his hand resting at his groin. He wet his lips, still looking at you. Then he adjusted himself. The next day, he snuck up on you from behind when you were reading at the edge of the pool. He silently swam up and stood behind you, pressed himself up against you, and you didn’t do anything about it except think about him while you fucked his son later.  
"Thanks." You take your sunglasses from his hand and go back to reading. You're looking at the book but can’t focus with all these butterflies between your legs.  
You're thinking about how big and hard Joel felt against your ass in the pool and now hot it was that he stole that moment, no matter how creepy. The way he loosely wrapped one arm around you under the water, and you didn't flinch as he ran his hand over your stomach, just barely dipped his fingertips into your suit, and whispered, "good color on you." His soft grunt when he pressed himself harder against you before sinking back and floating away just in time for Jack to come back outside.
"Plenty of time to ourselves," he says as you stare at the words on the page. It’s a rooftop pool shared by several units, and the other units have been empty this week.  But there are higher roof tops nearby with direct lines of vision. Someone waved from their barbecue the night before and invited y’all to join. It's a friendly area, lots of vacation condos.
-
“Alright, I’m gonna make this easy on ya,” Joel says.  “Want me to stop, I will, but you gotta say stop.” You throb at his words. He knows exactly what you need right now - for him to take charge.  
He starts by massaging your back. "Damn fool to even glance at another chick.”  He kneads your muscles lower and lower, then gropes your ass with an "Mmm."  You put your book down and rest your head on your hands.  He slides his hand into your swimsuit bottoms and keeps sliding down, over your crack, a little further, until his middle finger reaches your dripping wet pussy.  He inhales deeply and his voice lowers to a horny pitch as he swirls his finger. “Yeahhh," he growls.  "That's what I thought. . .” he says as he touches you.  
He swings a leg over the pool chair to straddle you, and as his crotch hovers over your ass, he brings his mouth to your ear. "You're so damn hot, baby," then dips his pelvis down for his raging erection to brush your swimsuit, sending all your blood to your loins.  "Knew ya wanted it."
He uses one hand to slowly untie your swimsuit bottom on both sides, so slowly, as if any sudden movement might break the spell.  Then he backs up toward the foot of the lounge chair and spreads your thighs.  "Damn, this ass is perfect,” he says under his breath as he gives your cheeks a quick squeeze. Then he inserts a thick finger into your cunt and breathes deeply as he adds another.  
“Pussy, too. . . Damn. . .” Your cunt twitches around his digits and he says, “Wooo.”  He takes out his fingers, and his hands on your hips nudge you into lifting your ass and tilting your hips for him to plant his face. His facial hair prickles you lightly.  He starts at your clit and when he reaches your warm, wet hole he gives it a kiss.  Then he inserts his tongue and moans into you.  After about a minute of eating you out, his tongue sharpens and drags from your entrance up to your asshole to tease you there while squeezing a cheek.  
He gets on top of you and presses the hard bulge of his swim trunks into your ass.   You moan softly and he says, “Yeah, that’s right.”  He pulls his swim trunks down enough to free his stiff member then runs the firm tip through your folds.  You gasp and he says “All yours, baby.  Every inch.”  
-
He notches the swollen head at your entrance.  Your thighs spread and your hips tilt for him. "That's right, baby."  He shoves himself into you with a grunt.  You moan as his girth splits you open.
“Fuck yeah,” he breathes and retreats half way.  He plunges forward again and bottoms out with a long sigh. "Damn. . . tight 'n juicy. . ." He repeats the motion.  "Perfect pussy." He lowers his broad torso against your back for a moment, pulling out all but the tip. The light padding of his stomach makes you twitch. Then with a deep thrust he pushes himself back up.  He hovers over you and braces himself on both sides of the pool chair as he rails you.  He’s hitting just the right spot.  The tension builds in your core.  
“Ah, fuck,” you gasp. 
“Yeah, how’s this cock treatin’ ya, baby?”
“Fuck, it’s good.”
“That’s right,” he says into your neck. "Daddy knows best. . . Don't I, baby?" He latches onto your neck. 
You start to say it back to him "Da-" and cut yourself off with a moan.  He sucks your neck so hard it’ll leave a mark but you don’t care. All you care about is his cock inside you.  You take a deep breath and manage, “yeah, Daddy.”  
He pounds you with all the pent up tension of the week.  You hear faint voices from a neighboring rooftop.  It sends a rush of excitement through you, the thought of strangers seeing you get railed by your boyfriend’s hot dad. 
Every time Joel buries his length in you, it rocks you forward on the chair and you grip it for dear life.  You moan in near disbelief at how good he feels. Your chest feels light with energy.
“Jack ever fuck you this good?" Not even close.  
“No,” you pant.  “Never, daddy. . ."  You could come any minute but don’t want it to end.
“s'what I thought." His cock is so stiff and thick.  And length wise, even a smidgen more might be too much to take. 
-
You look up and a shadow moves inside the clubhouse. “Wait,” you say. “ Is someone in there?”
He slows his hips.  “Want me to stop?”  He stops moving, and you can hardly stand it you’re so close to coming.  You groan.  No, you don’t want him to stop.  
You’re trying to see into the clubhouse when he pulls out and you answer too late, “Nooo.”  
He says “C'mere” and flips you over.   The voices return next door.  His strong thighs swell out from under his swim trunks and you follow them up to his commanding cock.  His sun-kissed arm flexes as he pumps himself, then crouches down and lines himself up.  
“Look at Daddy, don’t worry ‘bout nothin’ else."  He plunges to the hilt with a loud sigh from both of you.  “Damn you take it good,” he says.  He begins to pound you, then puts your legs up in a mating press.  
“I’m on the pill,” you manage to say between deep breaths.  Hard to tell if he’s relieved or disappointed.  His hips snap into you faster, and you forget about the shadow in the pool house and the people next door.  When you’re on the edge of  bliss, you say “I’m gonna–”
“Yeah baby, come on my cock.” 
You pant. 
“Come on, baby,” he says as he slams into you. 
You begin to clench around him and moan obscenely, gushing on his cock.
“Attagirl.”  He keeps fucking you through it. “Hell yeah,” he says between heavy breaths.  
He plunges into you slower but harder and somehow further, bottoming out with a primal grunt. Then he pulses inside you and sighs loudly as his balls empty.  His pulsations extend your own until he finishes coming and pulls out. Before he takes his still-hard cock away, he gathers his cum with the tip and pushes back inside.
When he's truly done, he swiftly pulls up his swim trunks, drags his hand through your juices and sucks his fingers.  He crouches down, cups your cheek and says, “Hot as hell.”  
Then he takes off his tank top and jumps in the pool.  He turns around and rests his arms on the deck, facing you. 
 “Damn. . . Jack’s even dumber than I thought.” 
-
Same Joel, same vacation:
thighs out on the beach
sun's out, guns out
-
Thank you so much for reading and engaging!
If you like this one, you might like the Speakeasy series which has exhibitionism, horniness, and talking.   Like how he talks?  Try night walks for similar energy (on the darker side).  Instagram and Uber for another squirter. 
-
ty for reading @dark-scape
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339  @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro
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marsbutterfly · 6 months ago
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The Princess and The Pauper
Summary: Your father has arranged for you to be wed to a prince in a nearby kingdom, but when you tell your beloved, the two of you plan to run away.
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a/n: hey everyone <3 I actually started writing this fic back in 2022 and just went back to it in March, I believe? anyway, this is by far the longest fic I have ever written, so please, enjoy <3
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medieval au, fem!reader, non-binary!hanji zoe, NSFW, childhood friends to lovers, parental death (mother), secret relationship, mentions and description of disease, panic attacks, mentions of forced marriage, massive age gap (between reader and the man she is meant to marry/ reader's parents), blood, parental abuse, physical abuse, kissing, face-sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, not really beta read, we ball.
small glossary: Libet - Lady-In-Waiting | Tegan - reader's cat| Elowen - reader's horse
 ao3 | wattpad | cover by: bbybluemochi on twt | wc: 24.1k
The warm spot on the window ledge had never seemed more comfortable. The sun had been shining right above it all day long, the music that came from the kingdom faded into the background and your cat purred by your feet. You knew in your heart that this was the perfect time of day to bring out a blanket and cuddle up against a pillow, a good book in your hands. These days, it was rare for you to have a moment all to yourself like this, and, deep down, you knew one way or another, your parents would interrupt your peace.
It was the third time you were reading this book, or trying to read it. The story of two lovers from different classes, brought apart by their parents and the stress that came with their titles, a story you knew all too well. You couldn’t help but sigh at the irony, of course, the book you chose had a similar story to the one you found yourself living at the current moment.
The rumors of your secret affair with the doctor’s child had been spreading like wildfire all across the kingdom, especially after a few of the night guards had caught you sneaking around late at night while trying to make it to your secret meeting spot. No matter how much you paid them to stay quiet, the word still got out somehow and you had yet to receive punishment for it.
The words on the book float around you in a silent dance as you lose focus, your thoughts traveling thousands of miles away towards the distant memories of the night before, when your beloved held you in their arms and read to you from their personal journal about remedies they had discovered, about the star constellations they had studied a week before, or just simply as they played with your hair while listening to your breathing in the cold night.
Before you can daydream much further than that, a bad feeling takes place in your stomach. Something in the atmosphere felt… wrong, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. You quickly close your book and place it on top of the cushion next to you before gently nudging your cat away to give you the chance to stand up. Even though the pet cries softly, you apologize and offer it a small smile, followed by a quick scratch on the top of the head, that’s when you hear it in the distance.
The loud, carrying voices became closer by the second and you could hear loud footsteps against the marble floors. With a heavy sigh and a roll of your eyes, you begin to make your way toward the entrance to your bedroom, your hands going through your dress to destroy any wrinkles before finding a resting place crossed against your thighs. 
The doors swing open and they quickly collide with the wall. You close your eyes tightly for no more than a couple of seconds before regaining your composure, not a word escapes your lips before your father, a plump man with a large beard and gold chains that are hidden by all the facial hair, enters the room. His voice carries around the area, the excitement palpable in his words, “My darling daughter!”
“Father,” you say politely, lowering your knees a few inches while your head hangs from your neck. Once you bring yourself back up, you decide to flash him a gentle and warm smile, knowing damn well that it was nothing but a fake, something you and your family were more than used to, something to stop yourself from actually telling him every single bad word that has crossed your mind in the last twenty seconds, “It has been a while.”
The man waves his hands, silently asking the servants around to leave you be and they quickly do as they are told. Not a minute goes by and you find yourself trapped in his tight embrace, a warm sensation taking over your face as embarrassment settles in, he has always been a man of action rather than words. “How have you been?” He inquires, awkwardly attempting to make small talk. 
His hands fidget around for a few seconds, restlessly going from his beard to the diamonds around his fingers. The smell of cheap cologne mixed with whatever he has had for lunch overtakes the room, the crumbs still stuck to his beard and the small part of his hair-covered belly that pokes out from the far too small shirt are nearly enough to break through your facade and bring out the disgust on your face. But somehow, you power through.
“I have been doing alright,” you respond, placing your hands behind your back while fidgeting with your fingers, nearly pulling out your own nails in an attempt to ground yourself and keep yourself sane. He has never once asked you how you were doing without having another intention in mind, but you decide to play along regardless, “How was your recent trip to the Pephia Kingdom? I hear their knights have recently returned from a quest with a bigger amount of gold than they have ever seen, is that true?”
The man laughs, his breath hits your face and, as an instinct, you look away. Your eyes are closed shut for a second until you force yourself to stare at him again, his face red from the laughter. “Oh, so you have heard about it, yes? Good, that will make things easier.”
You can’t help but tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowing in response to his words as you continue to pick at the side of your nails, the area getting progressively more raw and inflamed, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”
He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, his face becoming redder than before as his voice now takes a low turn, a more serious expression on his face, “It has come to my attention that you have been... Fraternizing with... A peasant?”
Your breathing seems to stop for a second, all the air is completely sucked out of your lungs and suddenly it feels like the room has started to spin. You weren’t sure what to do, should you lie and pretend that it was a made-up lie by the guards? But how could you know that the information came from the guards? Should you own up to it and beg for his forgiveness? No, you would never find yourself stooping to such a low level. Time seemed to be moving so fast and yet so slowly, the doubt clouding your judgment. Since you weren’t able to offer an answer, he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while his eyes close.
“y/n, we have talked about this!” He says, his voice has a cold tone to it and it sends a terror-filled shiver down your spine, “You were told to stay away from the doctor’s child. They are nothing but trouble and the entire kingdom knows they are… you know… a bit insane. They are considered the lowest of the low.”
Your face snaps back to look at him, how dare he speak of the one you loved in such a despicable manner? You can feel your cheeks burning, a mixture of anger and embarrassment, while your jaw clutches into place. It’s painful but you don’t even seem to notice it for the time being. “They have been teaching me to become a healer, so I can be better prepared for when the day comes when I become the queen!”
The man sighs, his eyes now squinting as he tries to remain calm, “I was not born yesterday, y/n. I raised you and I know you better than anyone ever could.” Another lie, this man may be your father but he did not know anything about you. In his head, you were still the little star-eyed girl who would love to watch her parents working for the good of her kingdom, but that stopped being the case long ago.
You continue to pick at the skin of your finger, feeling as a trickle of blood now makes its way down and lands on your dress. Your eyes shift focus for a small second before you are forcefully brought back to the situation at hand when your father grabs your chin and your cheeks with his rough hand, the sharpness of his many rings leaving behind scratches on your skin as he looks directly into your eyes. Your breathing begins to tremble as his grip tightens, you want to push him away, but that would only make things worse.
After a few seconds like this, when he finally decides that you have been brought down to your place, he lets you go. Your knees hit the ground and not even the size of your dress was enough to prevent your skin from bruising, your face is numb and you look at him through the hair that covers your eyes, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Do not lie to me again,” he says, the “loving father figure” persona completely gone now and the real version of him shining through, “have you or have you not been… intimate with this filthy low life?” The disgust in his voice was palpable, his nose scrunching up at the simple thought that his daughter, the perfect princess who was raised with everything good and nice, could have been defiled by someone of a lower class.
“Yes,” you respond, trying hard to keep the tears that desperately want to flow down your face at bay.
The look on his face sends a wave of terror down your body, he clutches his teeth so intensely that it nearly seems like they are about to break, and his face is so red that anyone who walked into the room would assume he was having a heart attack or really bad indigestion. He clears his throat and adjusts his shirt, his hands clutching the fabric, the sound of his shoes against the marble floors filling your ears as he begins to pace around.
“During my visit to the Pephia Kingdom, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that King Pierre’s eldest son was in search of a bride,” he says, his fat fingers brushing against your books, leaving behind greasy marks on your precious and rare volumes, a part of your heart breaks for the once clean pages, but his voice echoes through the walls once more, demanding your attention, “and your name came up.”
“What?” You catch yourself responding, certainly, you misheard what he said and he wasn’t suggesting what you assumed he was? Your own father would not be as cruel as to punish you in such a manner, “Porter? He is… much older than me.”
A smile takes over the man’s features, “That is true, but I was also much older than your mother, and stepmother, and yet, here we are.”
“P-please, you can’t do this. I’ll behave, I’ll do anything!” You try to plead with him. No, this is much deeper than a simple plea, you are begging. Your body is trembling and the tears you tried so hard to keep hidden now shamelessly fall, there is nothing you want less than to be wed to a man twice your age, a man whom you have never met, not when your heart already belongs to someone else.
“Oh, but I can. I am the king and you will do as you are told!” He roars, his fist slams against the wall and it causes you to whimper and cower away in the corner of the room, “this marriage will finally end the war that has been going on for nearly a century. The war between the four kingdoms will come to an end and it will finally put my name as the rightful ruler of all men. You are my daughter, you were born to do your job as a woman.”
You want to scream, you want to beg some more but you know that there is no changing his mind. The thoughts go through your mind so quickly that you can barely keep up, the air in your lungs burns on the way in and on the way out, like there are small particles of glass all around you. “Please.”
“Accept your future, y/n, and I will spare the filthy peasant who dared sully my daughter.” His eyes shot daggers into your heart, the idea of losing them, the one person who you have loved your entire life, is nearly enough to kill you. So for them, maybe this once, you could do something useful. So you nod, your head hanging low as you wrap your arms around yourself, your once light-colored dress now covered in dirt. “Excellent, I will send a messenger over to Pephia and let them know the wedding will happen tomorrow, at dusk. You will be out of here and you will never see that... Freak again.”
The sound of his shoes leaving the room would usually fill you with a sense of hope, but this time, it only meant that you would soon meet your doom. There was no getting away from this, it was your duty as the crown princess to do what was best for your people and those around you, but... The idea of living without them? Without Hanji? It was a pain that could only be compared to the feeling of having your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on.
You can’t move your body, your face still burns from the mark of your father’s rings, your knees are scraped and covered in dirt and your hair is now a mess from being thrown around like a cheap and replaceable doll. You stay like that, wondering if this was your life now, just another pawn in your father’s sick game for power and control.
The stars start to show up in the sky, the lanterns in the kingdom taking over the once colorful streets and turning them into a dark shade of orange, covered by shadows that dance in pathetic rhythm. Once you are finally able to collect yourself off of the floor, you walk towards the balcony, your legs nearly failing you as you hold onto the walls for support, the tears won’t stop pouring from your eyes.
Your body drapes over your favorite spot on the window, the pillows are now freezing cold as the night air hits the fabric, your fingers gripping tightly onto it as you bury your face in the surface, a scream leaving your lungs. The desperation you feel in this moment can only be absolved by one thing, by the one person who could save you.
You reach under the window for the loose tile on the ground, hoping to find the box you have kept hidden for so long. You were careless once before, the people of the kingdom had found out about your most precious secret, but not anymore. From inside the compartment, you pull a black cloth, the smell of your beloved taking over your nostrils and filling you with a warm sense of security. With trembling hands you wrap it around the window ledge, your eyes finally noticing the armed guards that keep a close watch on your room, your father must know you have a plan.
The different colors of fabrics you hide in that box represent different things: yellow if you missed them, red if you wanted to meet at your usual spot, blue if you would not be able to see them that night, and so on, but the black one is the one color you never had to use before, it meant you were in danger. You prayed so hard that this moment would never come, that the worry on their face when Hanji handed it to you and you laughed quietly, saying it wasn’t necessary, wasn’t warranted but, once again, you were wrong.
The night was cold, a complete contrast with how sunny and warm your day had been up until that unfortunate visit. While a few tears still stream down your face, you decide to get yourself ready while waiting for Hanji to come, you know they won’t take long so you want to be ready, the sooner you can get out of this hellhole, the better.
Thinking of what you were actually going to take with you was a harder task than you’d ever imagined. There was nothing inside these empty palace walls that you would want to take with you, nothing that couldn’t be replaced. Only two things came to mind: the love letters Hanji had written to you throughout your relationship and the sapphire ring that belonged to your mother. The rest? Could easily be bought or traded or forgotten.
In a small bag gifted to you by a young peasant girl from a nearby village, you decide to pack the two essential items and a few more things, such as a small sewing kit, a small book where you have written down your knowledge about every herb and fruit you have ever come in contact with, a hairbrush and, of course, a bit of food that was bound to last the two of you a few days.
Your once beautiful dress is now covered in dirt and some blood, the sight is so disgusting that you can barely look at yourself. When you walk past the mirror and realize the pathetic state you find yourself in, a fit of rage takes over your body and you can’t help but follow your first instinct to throw a book at the surface, shards of glass exploding all over your room as you cover your face.
Your nails dig through the fabric of the outfit you are wearing, ripping it to shreds as you attempt to remove it as fast as possible. The grunts that come from deep within your chest represent the frustration you are feeling at that moment, nothing else could compare. The idea that you are being sold to a random kingdom… for loving someone? Fuck that.
You catch yourself staring into nothing, a thousand thoughts going through your mind and you can’t help but bite off your fingernails, waiting for your beloved to appear, for them to make their grand entrance through the passage you found hidden in your room years before, as a child. The idea that they wouldn’t come crosses your brain and you shake your head vigorously, pushing the thought so far deep that it won’t see the light of day again.
Not long after, you hear a faint knock coming from the secret door underneath your carpet. You can’t help but fly towards it, ripping the fabric off of the ground and throwing it across the room, immediately unlocking the heavy area. The moment Hanji comes into your field of vision, you notice the scratches on their face, the dirt on the palms of their hands, and the growing concern behind those whiskey-colored eyes, even the slight way in which their nose scrunches up when they try to catch their breath doesn’t go by unnoticed.
You have barely any time to react before their arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Your arms, in response, grow a mind of their own and immediately wrap around their neck, your face buried in the area as you try your best to muffle your desolate cries. With tears of their own, Hanji guides you backward towards the bed, where the two of you lay for a while, crying in each other’s embrace.
The room is filled with outside lights and the deafening sound of your sobs. Hanji’s grip on you never loosens as you dig your nails through their clothes, your heart has never called their name quite like this before, it’s almost as if you need them to survive, more than food, more than air. All you need is Hanji. After what feels like an eternity, they break the silence.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Their voice exhales a fake sense of calm that is completely unmasked by the trembling of their arms. They are desperately trying to keep the tears in their eyes at bay, trying to find a way to control their breathing while waiting for a response. You can only nod. “It’s all over the kingdom. I heard from my father that they are sending you away tomorrow?” 
“I didn’t... I - I can’t…” You try to speak but the words simply won’t come out, they die in your throat before even being able to escape and all you can do is quietly gasp for air, clinging onto Hanji as tightly as you possibly can. Their fingers go through your hair, attempting to calm you down but it’s futile, especially when they feel themselves break down as well. Their lips press against the top of your head intensely as they pour all of their love for you into this one small action. “I can’t… live without you.”
“I know..” They respond after a few seconds, seemingly lost in thought, “Do you remember when we first met?”
You pause for a second, the clear memory of the day coming into your mind. It was a rainy day, the dark clouds in the sky making it seem a lot more hurtful than it already was. You couldn’t have been more than eight years old at the time, barely old enough to attend your first meeting between your father and his counselors as they talked about the plans and tactics for the war at hand, nothing they were saying made much sense to you but you sat there and listened regardless, as it was your duty as the royal princess.
In the middle of a very serious part of the conversation, one of your mother’s lady-in-waiting bursts through the door. You can still see the pure look of terror in her eyes, not sure if she was afraid of your father’s reaction to this rude interruption or because of the reasoning behind it. Her breathing is ragged and she tries to catch her breath, her voice trembles, “Your Majesty… the queen... She collapsed!”
The room falls silent and all eyes now rest on your father, analyzing his facial expressions as he stands up from his seat. “What happened?” He asks, calmly. Your poor heart is racing in your chest as you want to desperately run out of this room, to your mother’s side, but you know that if you do, there will be consequences. 
“We were on a walk and she simply collapsed onto the ground, I tried my best to catch her but…” She attempts to continue but your father raises a hand, her mouth immediately closing in response.
“Was the doctor called?” He asks. She nods.
“Yes, your Majesty.” The lady-in-waiting responds quickly. You notice that her hands are trembling and her breathing is still a bit out of control. When she notices your curious eyes, she straightens her back and places her hands in front of her body, trying her best to look as collected as possible. 
“Good,” the king says loudly. Finally, he looks at you, “Y/n, why don’t you go and check on your mother while I finish this meeting? You can report back to me with everything once you have found out what is going on. I will be counting on it, ok?”
A smile forms on your lips, the idea of pleasing your father was always the first one in your mind, with every movement being perfectly planned and calculated. You salute and respond with enthusiasm, “Yes, sir. I will do my very best!”
He offers you a smile as he ruffles your hair, tilting his head towards the door so you can calmly but quickly follow the person who would lead you to your mother. 
The walk towards your parents’ bedroom is long. You can’t even hear the echoing of your footsteps with the heavy rain that falls outside. Your little brain works overtime, trying to figure out what is going on with your mother and what could possibly have resulted in her injuring herself like this. “So.. what’s the doctor’s name?”
The woman next to you jumps slightly, a clear sign that your words startled her, though her footsteps never cease to move forward. She thinks for a second, “I’m not sure what his first name is, but the people of the village call him Dr. Zoe. He is from a small city called Gillamoor, which is hidden in the mountains of the Vatebia Kingdom. One day he simply showed up, saying he was looking for refuge from the war for him and his child, I believe they are about your age. People say that his wife passed away on the way here. So far, he has treated pretty much all of the Kingdom for Sheep Fever and casualties have gone down drastically.” She smiles at you softly, “I think that covers all of your questions?”
You can feel your cheeks heat up as the embarrassment takes over, you can’t help but avert her eyes as you nod. Until one final question pops into your mind, that is, “You said he has a child my age?”
She smiles widely again and nods, “Yes, their name is Hanji. They may be a year or so older than you but I still think the two of you would get along greatly. Both of them are on their way to take a look at your mother, so you know she’ll receive the best care all of us can offer.” 
Once you find yourself standing outside the doors to your mother’s chambers, reality strikes once more. You had been so caught up in the idea of having a friend, in the idea of having someone to show your books to and maybe even play with, that you completely forgot the dire situation you were now facing.
Your small, trembling hands knock on the door but have little to no effect. Your breathing is a bit unstable as the fear of what you might encounter on the other side of the wooden door might be, but quickly you pull yourself together, showing this amount of emotion was unfitting of a future queen. You knock again, with more confidence this time, and, in response, you can hear a familiar and welcoming voice inviting you in.
The door finally opens and your eyes go through the room, attempting to find your mother. It doesn’t take long for her weak figure to come into your field of vision: she’s laying on the bed, dark bags under her eyes and a weird contraption touching her chest. You want to run towards her, to hug your mother and cry into your arms, but instead, you simply walk towards her, holding your hands in front of your body tightly.
You barely notice the presence of other people in the room, the cold feeling in the pit of your stomach never ceases, no matter how much you try to force it to fade away. Finally, you find yourself standing by your mother’s side, she looks nothing like the strong woman you are so used to seeing.
The sound of a man clearing his throat fills the air and you are forced to acknowledge the presence of other people in the room besides your family. The doctor offers you a comforting smile, he isn’t someone you’ve met before. His brown eyes match the color of his nicely parted hair, a pair of glasses sitting on his nose as he places the contraption that was once pressed against your mother’s chest around his neck.
“Your Highness,” he bows towards you slightly and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I’m Dr. Zoe, I’ll be in charge of your mother’s care from here on out.” All you can do is nod, your fingers lacing with the ones of the woman who lays on the bed. You notice a small figure hiding behind the doctor’s coat, their fingers slowly pulling the man’s sleeve down, the gesture earns a heartfelt giggle from the man, “This is my child and prodigy. Why don’t you introduce yourself, sweetheart?”
Your heart stops beating for a second as soon as your eyes meet the other child’s. Their eyes are a deeper shade of brown than their father’s and their hair is in a messy ponytail, a complete opposite of the adult standing by them. They have a pair of glasses sitting on top of their nose and, when they speak, you notice they have a tooth missing, “I’m Hanji, Your Highness.” They repeat the man’s gesture and bow before you slightly, dropping a few papers in the process. When they notice the mess, they bend down to pick it up and your first instinct is to help them collect the pages. 
You proceed to reach for the last one, not noticing that the other child is about to do the same thing, and, for a split second, your hands touch. It’s a brand new feeling you have never experienced before, almost as if there are flying little creatures around your stomach. You are too young to understand what is going on but that was the moment your first, and only, crush took hold of your brain.
The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, your eyes meeting as you hand them the loose page on the ground. You notice the reddish blush that spreads across their cheek and it sends your little heart ablaze, almost enough to stop your breathing. “H- here you go,” you say in a shy voice.
They nod and look away, quickly standing up and retaking their spot next to their father. You shake your head and decide to do the same, taking your mother’s hands in yours while she smiles lovingly at you, a part of you can tell she knows exactly how you feel about the doctor’s child and you can’t help but ignore her gaze in embarrassment, which in response earns a weak giggle.
“So… Do you have any idea of what might be wrong?” The lady-in-waiting that stands next to you asks and you realize you were so caught up in the moment that you nearly forgot the reason why you were here in the first place. The man on the other side of the bed adjusts his glasses, looking over the results of the tests he performed on the queen.
“Unfortunately, it does seem Her Majesty has come down with Sheep Fever, this case in particular seems quite severe and in its later stages. It must have been dormant for quite some time now,” the doctor places down his papers, his eyes now looking directly at you when he flashes you a gentle smile, “Are you familiar with the disease, Your Royal Highness?”
You look down at your feet, embarrassed of the response you are about to give. “No, sir,” is all you can say. You’ve heard about it, sure, from the maids, the chefs, every single person who comes by the throne room every day to speak with your father, but you had never actually seen a case up close. The man smiles at you once more before turning his attention towards his own child.
“Hanji, why don’t you enlighten the princess on the condition?” His child looks at him through their glasses, their dark brown eyes meeting you within a second of the doctor finishing the first half of his sentence, “Maybe it will give her some peace of mind and sound a bit less scary if it comes from someone her own age.”
The nine-year-old takes a few steps closer to you, the papers they hold and the side of their hands smudged by black ink, a bit also smudged on their nose and you can’t help but feel your small heart skip a beat. They stop just at arm's length, clearing their throat and straightening their back, clearly attempting to look and sound older and more mature than they actually are.
“Sheep Fever has been associated with the consumption of poorly prepared meat or the consumption of milk that came from an infected sheep. Considering that the chefs of the castle always prepare the food to perfection and the tasters haven’t gotten sick, I would assume the cause comes from the latter.” 
You pay close attention to their words, entranced by the way they sound so… grown-up and so smart, no wonder they were already taking after their father’s profession, it seems like they have a natural gift. You can’t help but feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor in an attempt to hide the embarrassment that appears in the way you scrunch your nose.
“Symptoms often include muscle weakness and leg swelling, both of which we found to be present in your mother, I mean, Her Majesty, at the time,” they correct themselves before taking a quick look at their father, hoping for approval. The man nods softly and the child in front of you continues their explanation, “Shortness of breath can also occur, and that was the reason why she collapsed during her walk today.”
“Is there… anything else?” You ask, making a mental note of all the information they are presenting you with so you can later report back to your father regarding your mother’s condition. You notice for a second as their eyes sparkle, almost as if… nobody had ever asked them that before.
“Actually, yes!” They respond with a bit too much excitement in their voice. Immediately, they correct themselves, “I mean, yes. Toe numbness and excessive yawning can also occur in more severe cases, such as the Queen’s. Father and I believe the swelling has traveled from her legs to other areas of her body since her fingers have also grown in size.”
For a second, they stop talking. You aren’t sure if they have simply finished their explanation or if they’ve noticed the tears that stream down your face. The once giddy expression on their face dissipates as they carefully place the stack of papers in their hands onto the ground, taking a few steps closer to you. You can’t look up at them anymore, so your eyes avert toward the stack of pages on the ground. You try your best to think about what to say in this scenario but nothing comes to mind, you are just a scared little girl after all.
When you look back up again, you are hit by the sudden pressure of a pair of small arms wrapping around you. You freeze in place, not knowing how exactly to react. Rushed footsteps try to reach you, someone telling the other child to pull away but all you can hear is their voice, a soothing tone ever so different from the overly excited one they presented earlier, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but if anyone can help Her Majesty, it’s daddy. He learned from my grandparents, who were healers way before my parents were even born.”
You smile softly through the tears, “is that why you are learning?” You ask through the sniffles and they nod, the eager expression taking hold of their face one more time. They look so adorable that you can’t help but giggle once more.
“I want to be a great healer one day,” they respond, the blush that spread across their cheek now deepening as they avert your gaze, their fingers begin to fidget with a random strand of hair that falls on their face, “so if you are sick, I can take care of you… and I promise to save you, no matter what.”
You are finally brought back to reality after a trip down memory lane, your face snuggling close to Hanji’s chest as you are reminded of the situation you currently find yourself in. You nod in response to their question, “Yes… I remember the day we met…”
“I made you a promise,” they say, their voice barely louder than a whisper as their fingers ghost above the skin of your shoulder, “that I would save you, no matter what, didn’t I?” You nod in response once more, trying to understand where exactly they are going with this rant, not that you ever minded hearing them talk, it was definitely one of your favorite things in this world, the sound of their voice contained soothing properties that could only be compared to the lightest of teas. “Let’s run away.”
Your heart stops for a second and your breath gets caught in your throat. The idea crossed your mind and you had already packed a bag while you were at the peak of your rage, but to hear Hanji actually suggesting it… That was a completely different scenario. “A-are you sure? What about your father’s clinic?”
They shake their head, “ever since he passed, the only thing in this place that has felt like home has been the barn outside the mountains where we would meet. The moments I’ve held you in my arms like this have been more comforting to me than the memories I’ve had at that clinic. Besides, my father wanted to expand his knowledge further, to treat more people in other areas but… I asked him to stay here because… Well, because I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”
You can’t help but hide your face in the crook of their neck, snuggling your body as close to theirs as you possibly can. Hanji can’t help but allow a small giggle to escape their lips, feeling as your body trembles slightly beneath their touch, their grip on you tightening slightly and it is nearly enough to stop the air from flowing to your lungs. You don’t mind it.
“That’s so nice to hear,” you respond in a whispered voice, “my heart has been yours since our hands touched for a split second years ago. Even before I knew what romantic love was.” You prop your body up on the pillow, your hand resting underneath your chin as you stare into Hanji’s eyes, those adoring glasses shoot at you causing butterflies to flutter around in your stomach, “my heart beats for you and no one else.”
They smile smugly, attempting to hide the red tint that covers their entire face, they bring their face closer to yours, lips brushing against one another ever so gently, just barely enough for them to tickle each other. Hanji’s voice is quiet but their words hit you with the same effect as if they have just screamed at the top of their lungs, “Say you’ll run away with me.”
Your eyes flutter closed and you nod, it’s subtle and almost undetectable but Hanji is more than used to every tiny movement you make. Their lips finally press against yours, gentle at first, caring for you like you are a wounded animal, but it suddenly escalates into something much deeper. Their tongue traces the outline of your lower lip, silently begging for entrance and you quickly oblige, parting your mouth ever so slightly and the way they hum in response lets you know that you are doing something right.
Your tongue dances with theirs in a passionate tango, exploring the inside of each other’s mouth like it is the first time all over again. It’s a feeling you will never get tired of, the feeling of being this close to them, to the person who has been by your side in the hardest times, the person whose name is echoed with every beat of your heart.
Sadly, you are forced to pull away, cursing yourself for needing to breathe, a small string of saliva connecting your bodies and you can’t contain the smile that makes its way to your lips. Your fingers gently brush against their cheek, your foreheads touching for a while as you continue to enjoy this moment together.
“Yes…” You finally respond, your eyes still closed as you teasingly brush your lips against theirs again before pulling away, “I… I’ll run away with you.”
“I don’t know where we are going, but give me an hour to gather some things,” they whisper, slowly pulling away from you. You reach out, fingers brushing against the skin of their arm as they pull away, your lower lip trembling as a sense of panic takes over you, the fear that something will happen to them in the meantime taking over, “I promise I will be back for you, so be ready, ok?”
You nod, watching as Hanji blows you a kiss before disappearing through the small door underneath the carpet once more. The dark shadows of the night dance around your room, taunting you of the destiny you are bound to face if your father were to catch you.
Deciding that you can’t simply stand around and do nothing, you get up, reaching for the water jug that rests on the corner of the bedroom. With a bit of soap, you wash away the dried blood and dirt from your hands, watching as the water turns into a deep shade of maroon, the metallic smell entering your nostrils and you can’t help but turn your head away.
You change out of the destroyed dress, throwing it in another corner of the room. Your heart aches slightly, it was a dress your mother had chosen for you before she passed, something that reminded you of her and your father had, once again, taken that small sense of comfort away from you.
Your memories go towards the times when things weren’t so bad when your parents were still in love and happy with the blessing of finally having an heir after many, many years of trying. The times when you could still see light in his eyes when he looked at you and not the shell of a man who now was only interested in power and full control.
As the night progresses and the moon descends, a bottomless pit forms in your stomach, waiting for Hanji to return. Your small bag had been packed since earlier that day and you were wearing the least fancy outfit you owned, which was still extremely fashionable regardless, you knew there was a possibility that it would cause you to stand out, but that is a chance you would have to take.
Finally, when you feel as if your heart can no longer wait, you hear the sound of Hanji’s knock coming from the ground, a few tears of relief brew in your eyes as you move the carpet away, giving them the space needed to enter your room. They carry two small bags in their hands, one bigger than the other but still relatively petite. 
They immediately drop them onto the floor, freeing their arms so they could wrap around you. It takes very few seconds for your body to respond to their actions, your legs grow a mind of their own as you rush to their embrace, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nuzzle your face against Hanji’s chest, “what took you so long?” You ask, your voice trembling in a mixture of fear and relief.
“I’m sorry,” they responded quietly, their voice shaking as well, “I was gathering things from the clinic, such as a few samples of the herbs my father kept and the book my family kept on every condition we have ever treated. It took me a while to get out of the village, you know how much those women love to gossip,” they giggle quietly and you hum. The room falls silent for a moment as you enjoy the feeling of being in their arms, “I got you some of my older clothes, they might be a bit big on you but… I think it’s better than... Whatever you are trying to go for right now”
You gasp dramatically, playfully pushing their shoulders away and they chuckle, a sound that sends goosebumps down your spine and you can’t help but look at them with lovestruck eyes. The love in your heart emanates throughout your body and all you want to do is jump on their arms and stay intertwined with them forever.
“I tried my best, okay?” You respond, trying your hardest to make sure your voice doesn’t carry through the room. This is the first time all day that you have felt a genuine smile creeping onto your lips, even if you are rolling your eyes and pouting at Hanji the entire time, “I don’t have any less extravagant clothes.”
“I can tell,” Hanji muffles a laugh and you gasp again, your hands brushing against their chest as you land small and gentle hits on their skin. In response, Hanji wraps their arms around your waist, tightly pulling you into another hug while lifting you off the floor, and spinning you around. You try your best to contain your squeals of excitement, biting down on your lower lip as you do so. After a while, they finally place you back on the ground, brushing a strand of hair off of your face, “Go change, I’ll make sure no one is coming.”
You nod, rushing towards the partition wall that stands by the closet. Every small movement you make seems to be louder than the town crier’s voice at early dawn, but maybe it’s just the nervousness taking hold of your emotions. You try your best to remain calm, the plain thought that Hanji is in the room with you is enough to soothe your nerves more than any possible tea could.
They were right, their clothes are indeed a bit bigger and the fabric is not nearly as soft as what you are used to. There are a few holes here and there and the mysterious stains that cover most of the shirt remind you of the experiments Hanji used to do when you both were children, but there is a bright side: the scent of her skin has now been engraved on the clothes and, with every step you take, it feels like their arms are constantly wrapped around you.
Once you walk out from behind the fake, wooden wall, Hanji’s curious eyes fall on you and, even through the dim light from the candle, you can see a dark shade of red spreading across their cheeks when they fully take in the sight of you wearing their clothes. It sets their heart ablaze and they can barely focus on the challenges the two of you are about to face.
“You look beautiful,” they say, their voice is barely louder than a whisper and the timid way in which they look in a different direction doesn’t fail to get a heartfelt chuckle out of you, “are you ready?”
You take their hand, a deep sigh escaping your throat as you two prepare to get down through the secret door on the floor. Until someone knows on your door, that is.
At that moment, your heart stops beating. The fear that courses through your veins is too severe to express and you feel as though you are frozen in place, unable to move, breathe, or even blink. The palms of your hands begin to sweat and you feel yourself beginning to shake. Tears form in your eyes as you squeeze Hanji’s hand, the panic clearly written all over your facial expression.
They place their index finger in front of their lips, silently asking you to remain quiet. You struggle to fight back the sobs that form in the back of your throat, using your free hand to cover your mouth. The two of you stay perfectly still for a while, hoping that whoever is standing on the other side of the door will soon give up and walk away.
Another knock and you can feel your body beginning to sink to the ground with fear. It isn’t until the third knock that the person on the other side identifies themselves, “Your Highness, it’s me.” You would recognize that voice anywhere, your mother’s favorite lady-in-waiting, the one who was by your mother’s side in her last moments and who was also by your side when you and Hanji first met. There had never been any secrets between the two of you, but for some reason, you found yourself terrified of what she would do if she were to find out your plans.
You and Hanji begin to make your way towards the main door, fingers permanently laced together as you place your ear against the door, responding in a hushed though shaky voice, “Yes?”
“May I come in?” She asks, the tone of her voice is full of worry and care for you and it reminds you of your own mother. You look at your beloved for any signs of disapproval but all you see in their eyes is a lot of love and support. Carefully, you open the door and, just by the way she looks at you and holds a package in her hands, you can tell that she isn’t here to yell at you.
“Libet, you should not be here,” you whisper in the most cautious voice you can muster, still tightly holding onto Hanji’s hands as the woman closes the door behind her. She wears a dark cloak above her nightgown, her hair is down in a tangled mess and the redness in her eyes tells you that she has been crying, the sight is the complete opposite of the strong woman you are so used to. “What happens if you get caught?”
She shakes her head furiously, arms wrapping around your body in an intense hug. You can feel your own body trembling as you return the affection, both of your bodies sinking to the floor after you finally let go of Hanji’s hand. They take a step back, allowing you to have some space while still remaining on guard, just in case something goes wrong during this exchange. 
Silent tears stream down your face, the tightness in your chest increasing as you finally stop to think about the good things you are leaving behind. The woman can tell that you are lost in thought, so she brushes your cheek with her thumb, stopping a tear in its tracks.
“I… I needed to say goodbye,” she whispers, hands carefully brushing your face, much like your mother used to do when you would have a bruise or a cut. She reminds you so much of her. “I brought you a few supplies, it isn’t much but it will last the two of you a few days. There are also a few extra seeds, once you find a suitable place, plant those and remember that they were your mother’s favorites. Also a bit of money.”
“But… How did you know?” Hanji asks quietly, kneeling beside you. The woman smiles, her free hand now gently touching your beloved’s arm and you notice a dark blush spreading across their cheeks as they attempt their best not to look away.
“I know Her Highness like the palm of my hand,” she whispers softly, touching her forehead with your own, “and, if she’s anything like her mother, which believe me, she is, she wouldn’t just sit still, and allow her dad to ship her off to somewhere distant, especially if it meant she would never see you again. Her heart calls your name, after all, Hanji.”
“But…” the two of you speak in unison, sharing a look of confusion as the woman chuckles, clearly amused by the expression on your faces.
“You two have never been very good at hiding,” she responds, and your eyes immediately fall onto the ground, too embarrassed to look at either the woman or Hanji. The only reason you lift your gaze is because you can hear Hanji’s inquisitive tone coming from beside you.
“That day at the tower… When I felt like someone was watching us… Our first kiss..” They say, the words fighting to come out as their brain works overtime to form the necessary sentences, “That was you?” Their question is responded to only by a simple nod and a smile. Do you want to disappear, knowing that someone saw the two of you in such a vulnerable state? It makes your face burn and your vision nearly goes black.
The sound of footsteps and shadows dancing outside of your room is a reminder that you don’t have time to sit around and talk. If you were to escape before sunrise, this is your one and only moment to do it. So you take the package from her hands and stuff it in with the rest of the things you’ve packed. It isn’t very big so it doesn’t take up a large amount of space.
As you stand up, you wrap your arms around her once more, her green eyes meeting yours as she plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. Her voice is quiet.
“For guidance.”
Another kiss, this time on your fingertips.
“For control.”
And lastly, she plants a kiss on the tip of her own fingers before brushing it against the left side of your chest, her eyes filled with tears and you can barely see her pupils through the tears, her voice is trembling and her hand isn’t as steady as it usually was.
“For eternal love.”
You want to say something, maybe stay with her for a few more moments, but when Hanji opens the secret exit to your room, you realize you are out of time. So with one more look, you take your beloved’s hand, making sure to take in the view of the room you grew up in one last time.
Before you can leave, you decide to ask for one more favor, “would you care for Tegan for me? I want to entrust his safety to someone I trust and I would prefer it if my father would stay away from my cat.”
Libet nods, “Don’t worry, I will care for him like he is my own. I’m sure he will get along great with my own animal. He’s always had a precious heart, much like your own.”
You flash her another look and she can tell you are hesitating, but when a shadow lingers around your door for too long, she gives you that necessary push you need to finally get things up and running. She smiles at you while Hanji guides you down the steps for the very first time.
“Good-bye, Your Highness,” the woman waves at you, finally allowing your hand to be free to take Hanji’s. Your eyes meet hers and, for a second, you feel like you are staring at your mother. Your heart beats a bit faster than before and you offer her a smile.
“Call me y/n,” you respond, a single tear falling down your face. Libet chuckles, her hand reaching for the doorknob so she can shut it as soon as you and Hanji are completely out of sight.
“Goodbye, y/n,” she says, her voice is so docile it could almost be compared to freshly made honey, “I hope to meet you again someday. But if I don’t, I will make sure to see you in my next lifetime.” Her words strike you like lightning, your whole body feels like it's on fire, the fear of leaving her alone in this castle is so strong that you are only brought back to the reality of your situation when she pushes you at the same time as Hanji tugs at your hand.
Your eyes only leave hers when you are out of view and you can hear the door shutting behind you. Even though Hanji instructed you not to speak, you want to say something, to ask them if this moment is really real or if it’s just a stupid dream your mind created to cope with the situation. But you don’t say anything, you just follow them, their certain footsteps letting you know that they’ve crossed this cramped space more times than you could count.
The walls of the tunnel are covered in spiderwebs, a smell that you could only assume came from a dead animal hidden somewhere behind one of the bricks and the only light comes from the small candle that rests in Hanji’s hand. A thousand thoughts go through your head but, when you notice that they are shaking slightly, you squeeze their hand three times, a silent way of saying “I love you.”
That small action causes Hanji to stop dead in their tracks, their shaky breath finally returning to normal as they turn around to look at you and you can’t help but be mesmerized. Even in this dim lighting with dirt covering their cheeks, they are still the most beautiful human being you have ever laid your eyes on and just the thought of starting a new life with them nearly makes all the nervousness dissipate from your body.
A careful arm wraps around your waist, their forehead touching yours as they silently mouth back the words “I love you too.” No sound is needed for you to realize that they meant every bit of it. With your eyes closed, you lean forward ever so slightly, your lips brushing against theirs softly.
Hanji’s breath smells like a mixture of berries and bananas, a small snack they would often munch on before an important event or when they were nervous. They’ve told you in the past these particular fruits contained soothing properties and were known for the mixture of sweetness and tanginess, the perfect effect to ground someone back to reality. Your heart breaks slightly when you realize just how intense the taste of their lips is.
Their body melts against your touch and, even though you are in a hurry, they can’t help but give in to the sensation. They part their lips ever so slightly, a clear path for your tongue to gain entry and you can’t contain the smile that forms on the right corner of your mouth. 
Teasingly, you brush the tip of your tongue against theirs and you hear Hanji whimpering quietly in response. The sound alone is enough to send goosebumps running down your spine, all you want to do is strip them and just spend some time together, right there in the dirty, old tunnel. You bring your hand up to cup their face, not only trying to calm their nerves but a way of grounding yourself back again in the seriousness of the situation.
When Hanji tilts their head to the right, you know you’ll be done for unless you pull away. It takes every ounce of your strength, every last bit of it to part ways, a small string of saliva still connecting your bodies while you look at them with love-filled eyes. Hanji was your very first kiss and, even though years have already passed, you still hope they will be your very last. 
A small smile appears on the corner of their mouth as they press their lips against yours in a much quicker kiss, they look at you with thankful eyes, almost as if silently saying how badly they need that small token of your affection. But both of you are aware that talking in this situation is not an option, so you are left to only interpret what they have to say.
Once the two of you regain your composure, you begin walking towards the exit once more. Your steps now carry more confidence than before, certain that this is for the best, the doubts that once clouded your mind have now cleared and, even if you are not sure what the future holds, you know that you’ll be fine as long as you and Hanji are together.
Finally, the moonlight comes into view and the cold wind of the night hits you in the face, it is the most refreshing feeling you have ever felt before. You are still scared: of the guards finding you, of what might happen to Libet, of your father’s reaction. But one look at Hanji’s face and you can tell this is the right choice for you, after all, this is the most freedom you’ve had since your mother’s death.
You had never seen this pathway to the stables and you pay close attention to how dangerous it is. Something was covering the ground that you couldn’t figure out if it was mold, moss, or a disgusting mixture of both, but all you could actually tell was how slippery it was. You realized this because, if it weren’t for Hanji’s protective hands on your lower back, you would have found yourself sitting on the ground after slipping. At least three separate times.
This hidden part of the city was different than anything you had ever experienced. It has a different smell than the ones from the main areas, even the way the lights from the lanterns cover the walls seem somehow different. You can see people dancing around in bars, the sound of laughter and music fills the streets, and, even though it is late at night, children are playing around with street animals. It’s a kind of life you had never been introduced to but always dreamt about.
You can see your breath every time air comes in contact with your lungs, your body shivering in a mixture of fear, excitement, and cold. Hanji’s hand in yours is so warm and it causes your blood to flow at a rapid speed, somehow keeping you from freezing on the spot.
“Okay, we are almost there,” they say, their voice so quiet and full of love, while their gaze transmits a concerned expression, “are you doing okay?” You’re enamored by the way they look under the pale moonlight, the way you can clearly see the droplets of sweat that form on their forehead, even though it is extremely cold. Their fingers brush against the top of your hand, comforting your racing heart. You nod.
“Y-yeah,” you respond and Hanji smiles. God, the way one of their teeth is slightly crooked is such a small detail and you would only be able to notice it if you were paying close attention, but for you, it was one of their most endearing physical qualities. Faintly, you can hear the horses as the stables come into your vision.
You and Hanji pick up the pace of your steps, freedom is within your reach, and all you need to do is make sure to grab a horse. From afar, you can see Elowen, the horse you’ve had for a few years now and the fastest one you’ve had throughout your entire life, you couldn’t see yourself riding another horse out of this situation that isn’t her.
Before you have time to reach the building, Hanji’s strong grip pulls you into a dark alleyway, their index finger quickly taking place in front of their lips as they silently begs you to remain quiet, and, in response, you cover your mouth with your hand. 
They lean their head forward, peaking out of the area in an attempt to see what is going on. You copy their action, noticing a couple of castle guards walking by. The two men, whom you’re more than familiar with, are part of your father’s personal guard and it sends a chill up your spine. Could he possibly already have noticed your absence?
It’s not until both men enter a bar nearby that you allow yourself to breathe. Your body trembles and your blood runs cold, you can feel a surge of panic washing over you, is this a mistake? Maybe you should fulfill your duty to your kingdom and not selfishly run away. Maybe you should accept that you are nothing more than a simple tool, maybe... Just maybe... You aren’t good enough.
Hanji notices the look on your face and the way your eyes are fixated on the ground, the way your body begins trembling once again, and the way you seem to hyperventilate. So they look around again quickly and, when they notice the coast is clear, they pull you in for a tight hug, holding your body against theirs as tightly as they possibly can.
“This has already been one hell of a ride, huh?” They chuckle in a desperate attempt to mask the trembling in their voice. Their breathing is shallow, almost as if they are afraid to let their guard down for even a nanosecond. Your fingertips brush against their cheek softly, a smile forming on your lips as you look up at them, your eyes meeting.
“I’m so in love with you,” you whisper softly, your head laying against their chest, “ever since I first met you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be your bride.” Immediately, you notice a maroon blush spread across their face and, with it, an endearing smile, it causes your heart to race in your chest and you nearly stop breathing.
“I… I’ve dreamt of hearing you say that for so long,” they whisper, their voice soothing and warm in contrast with the cold air that surrounds you, “I’ve spent my entire life, from the moment I first saw you, trying to crawl my way up as the most successful doctor in all the land, just so one day I could be worthy of a princess. Let’s get moving, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can make you my bride.”
“But you are worthy!” You spout, a little louder than you initially meant to, so you quickly take a look around to make sure no one heard you. Once you realize the coast is clear, you continue in a much quieter tone of voice, “You are extraordinary. You were able to study and explore such complicated diseases, finding cures and even causes. There is no other like you, and for my final command as your princess, never speak such things about yourself again.” You say with a serious expression on your face, “Please.”
Hanji snorts quietly and nods, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Yes, Your Highness. As you wish.” You roll your eyes but the butterflies in your stomach begin to float around once more, the mere sight of their smile is enough to awaken the turmoil inside of you.
The two of you begin to make your way towards the stables once more, you could not be more than a minute or so away when you realize that Elowen has already been prepared and set outside to wait for your arrival. A pit forms in your stomach as you fear you’ve been discovered by someone else but you are quickly greeted by a message from Libet.
“Your Highness,
You have no time to lose, so I took the liberty of preparing your horse myself. She has been fed and there are a few food rations and treats for her in the small pouch around her neck. I am so sorry there isn’t more I can do for you, but do know that I am rooting for you.
Your mother would have been so incredibly proud of the woman you are becoming. It is unfortunate we will never get the blessing of seeing you as our queen, I think you would have been able to change our world. But no matter where you are, Her Majesty and I will be with you, protecting you from afar.
Please, may the two of you be safe and happy on this new journey. May we meet again under better circumstances.
Libet”
Your heart is flooded once more by the intense feelings of appreciation. It was a different kind of love, the kind you had been missing since the Queen’s passing. To have someone care for you and want nothing more than your happiness… It was something your father had never gotten even close to achieving, something he could never understand: how to love his own child.
As you read the letter, Hanji places the two bags you were carrying onto the horse’s saddle, making sure everything is tightly packed into place. They quietly guide the animal a little further outside of the range of the night guards, who are too drunk to even realize what is happening. You place the piece of paper into your pocket, ensuring that this final piece of home will stay with you during your travels.
You decide to mount the horse first, seeing as you have more experience with this kind of situation than Hanji does. Their firm hands give you a gentle booster as you wrap your other leg around Elowen’s body, straddling her back. Then, it’s your turn to offer Hanji some help. As you extend your hand, you notice the pinkish blush that covers their cheeks, their fingers brushing against your palm before they accept your pull, and you can’t help but smile.
Once they find a comfortable position on top of the horse, they pull out a small blanket from one of your bags, placing it above their shoulders and making sure it reaches you as well. Lastly, they wrap their arms around you, still holding onto the cloth as they rest their head on your back. You can feel their soft nod against you, the sign that the two of you are ready to start moving.
Carefully but firmly, you poke the heel of your feet against the horse’s ribs and she starts to move, slowly at first but once you repeat your movements, she begins to pick up speed. 
Using the moonlight as your guide, the two of you find yourselves going into the forest. For the final time, you bid the kingdom that raised you goodbye, silently waving goodbye to your mother’s resting spot and the place where she had raised you. But even from an early age, you knew the burden of wearing the crown was too much to bear, so finally managing to get away from it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.
As the hooves of your horse crunch the leaves and sticks that fly from the trees onto the ground, Hanji rests their head on your back, arms tightly wrapped around you while always making sure your body is covered by the blanket, protecting you from the night wind as best as they can. You aren’t sure how long the two of you have been moving for, could be a few minutes or a few hours.
Raindrops begin to fall from above, the earth beneath you turns to mud and it splashes onto your clothes. With a sigh, you take a look around, trying to find a place for shelter. When the rain begins to intensify, you hear Hanji’s voice coming from behind you.
“I remember coming into this area with my father once,” they say, snapping their fingers a few times as they try to think of the words, “if I’m not mistaken, there is an abandoned barn just past the old, dirty road. Turn left on that crooked tree and we should be there in less than two minutes.”
You nod, hitting the sides of your horse with the balls of your feet, prompting her to speed up her movements. As usual, Hanji is correct and the barn finally comes into view. By that point, the two of you are already soaked as water has begun to pour from the sky, and loud claps of thunder fill your ears, scaring all three of you.
Once you reach the area, you make sure to place some food down for your horse as Hanji removes the equipment from her back. The two of you begin to pet the animal, reassuring her that she is doing a great job and how thankful you guys are for her hard work bringing you this far. Of course, she probably doesn’t understand, but you like to think she looked content nevertheless. 
When you look at Hanji, they have the brightest smile on their face and it turns your heart into a pounding mess. They take a few steps closer, their hand grabbing onto your waist as you feel your body heating up from that small contact, trembling softly not knowing if it is because you are soaked from the rain or due to the softness of Hanji’s touch. 
Their hand reaches inside of your shirt, slowly gliding up and down your back as it leaves a trail of goosebumps behind in its wake. Without even realizing it, you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to look at them, only for you to feel their free hand reaching for your chin and carefully forcing you to maintain eye contact, “don’t look away.” 
You nod, your lips quivering softly as you shiver. Even in the dark, you can see those hypnotizing brown eyes staring at you, a devious and dangerous smile on their lips as Hanji knows they have you in the palm of their hand. They bring their fingers back to your hips, slightly digging their nails into your soft skin, dragging a whimper out of you.
“H-Hanji…” Your voice falters and you can hear a faint chuckle, their shadow leans forward towards you, lips brushing against your neck and you can’t help but lean back slightly, giving them better access to such a sensitive area. Just as you are starting to fully surrender to them, Hanji pulls away.
“Let’s make a fire and…” Their eyes travel up and down your body before they smile again, “then we can get you out of those wet clothes.” You can feel your entire face burning in embarrassment but you nod, moving around the barn as you look for things to use as kindling.
Most of the things around you are wet as a result of the rain but hidden underneath what used to be a workbench, you find a pile of dry pine cones. Carefully, you bend down to reach for them, watching closely for any rusted nails that might be poking out or any bugs that could be crawling around the area. Once you feel the rough surface against your hand, you call out to Hanji.
“Hey, I found these, do you think it would be enough until the rest of this wood dries off?” You ask, wiping away the hand you used to prop yourself up from the ground. They nod, taking the plants from your hands and running their fingers through it, feeling the texture.
“Yeah, these would be perfect,” they smile, taking a few steps toward the center of the barn. The moonlight and raindrops come through a broken patch on the roof, so while Hanji is in charge of making a fire, you decide to make your way toward the supplies and retrieve some dry clothes while hanging the wet ones to dry. 
Slowly, you remove your shirt, the feeling is nearly identical as though you still have the wet clothes on. Goosebumps travel through your skin and you can’t help but shiver violently, your nipples hardening as your skin comes in contact with the chill air.
As you hook your thumb onto the waistband of your pants, you feel a pair of hands wrapping around your torso, the sudden feeling bringing a small gasp out of you. Hanji buries their face on the side of your neck, gently taking in the aroma you exhale, it earns a small chuckle out of them.
“You smell so good,” they whisper, their voice is tender, carrying the softest of tones, yet you can still hear that devious sound, the desire that has been brewing for the past few days, from before the two of you even decided to run away. You nuzzle yourself against their touch and your action only serves to fuel Hanji’s appetite. Their hands grow bolder, tickling your abdomen as they make their way towards your breasts, cupping them tightly, “you are so soft.”
A breathless whimper escapes your lips and you close your eyes, leaning into the sensation their hands are providing you with. Their warm breath now transforms into heartfelt kisses, which then proceed to turn into love bites, marking the area with their teeth. Their left hand carefully shifts so that their index finger and thumb gently pinch your nipple while their right hand begins to glide down your body. You moan quietly in response, not pulling away from the touch.
Hanji smiles, humming softly as their hand finally finds its way toward the waistband of your pants, “take these off,” they order as they pull away, leaving you wanting for more. You can already begin to feel the wetness pooling in your underwear, so you nod and oblige, removing the clothes from your legs and standing before them wearing nothing but your underwear. They shake their head, “I meant all of it.”
The seriousness in their tone catches you off guard but, once again, you nod. Your fingers gently hook to the sides of your panties, pulling them down your body before you drape them over the improvised clothing line you’ve hung on the barn. You’re too embarrassed to look at them, almost as if it was the first time they were seeing you naked.
Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the sound of their footsteps as they place their own clothes onto the line. The thought of their naked body exposed to you causes another surge of wetness to drip down your legs, the excitement coursing through your veins almost as if it were an essential part of your blood. When their fingers touch your arm, you finally open your eyes, sensing their body behind you.
Their touch is featherlike, so soft that it nearly tickles. The words that leave their lips are sweeter than honey and they make you melt as soon as you hear them, “You’re so beautiful, I could just stay like this with you all night.”
You try to think of words to say in response, but your body betrays you and not a single coherent thought goes through your mind, the only answer you can provide them with is a low whimper, a vocal representation of how much you crave their grace.
Their bare chest presses against your back, lips gently brushing against your neck while their right hand travels to explore your skin, going from your arms, then gently brushing against the lower part of your breasts, continuously making its way down your stomach, only to finally find its resting place just above the mound of your pussy. You reach behind you to wrap an arm around their neck, pulling them even closer to your body and you can hear a faint gasp escaping their lips, it has an instant reaction in your heart as it feels like it’s about to run out of your body.
Carefully, their fingers spread your folds apart, exposing your swollen clit to the cold night air. You hiss quietly in response, shutting your eyes tightly as you nuzzle yourself against them. They glide down a bit more, swirling their digits around your tight entrance and gathering the wetness that was once trapped inside.
“You are already so wet for me,” they whisper, nibbling on your shoulder softly. Your face feels like it's on fire and all you can do is surrender to their touch, instinctively spreading your legs apart slightly so Hanji will have better access to the most sensitive area of your body. They chuckle, a low and rough sound, “Good girl.”
Hanji moves their hands away and you grunt in disapproval, but it quickly goes away when Hanji flips you around so you are facing them as they proceed to pick you up in their arms, almost as if you weigh nothing. They carry your body closer to the fire, carefully laying you down on the small camping area the two of you set up.
Their eyes never leave yours, that loving gaze you’ve grown so used to analyzing your every move, every small reaction your body may have to their actions. The smile on their lips never fades, it in fact grows wider once you bring your hand up to cup their face and begin to brush their cheek with your thumb.
Hanji nuzzles themselves against your touch, one hand supporting their body upwards so they are above you and the other softly travels through the sides of your body, forcing a mixture between a moan and a giggle out of you.
“I love the way you react to my touch,” they whisper, their voice laced with desire and passion. Their movements become a bit rougher and it turns into an evident contrast with their kisses, which could only compare to the silk pillows you were so used to sleeping on.
“I love the way you touch me,” you whisper in response, your voice is so low that it is barely audible. Hanji smiles, a simple action that could easily outshine the sun if they tried. Your heart races in your chest and you can feel your excitement dripping down your legs, leaving behind a trail of your dedication towards your beloved.
“I know this is no way to speak to a princess…” They whisper, moving a strand of hair away from your forehead, “But I know how to make this night special for you.” You tilt your head, puzzled by what could they possibly have in mind but, before you have time to ask, they remove the ribbon that holds their autumn-colored hair up. The strands fall on their face and the shadows dance with their skin, your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to be able to look away, absolutely mesmerized by their beauty. This is why their next sentence catches you so off guard, “sit on my face.”
You choke softly on your own spit, using both of your elbows to prop your body up, “I beg your pardon?” You find yourself blinking repeatedly, trying your best to process their request, no, their demand. Hanji chuckles in response, laying their head on the floor.
“You heard me,” is all they say before patting their cheeks, much like you would do on a chair or a… Different “seating” surface. Your entire body burns in embarrassment as your eyes meet, the expression on their face indicating they could not be more serious.
“I don’t want to crush you,” your voice falters and it’s now Hanji’s turn to prop their body up with their elbows. They vigorously shake their head and you know exactly what they are thinking, so you continue, “I… We’ve tried this before… And I almost hurt you. You know I can’t hold myself up after a while.”
“y/n…” The softness in their voice is almost alarming, a dangerous tone that they only used when they wanted to convince you of something, “if you start to hurt me, I will push your ass back up with my hands.” You can tell by the expression on their face that they have been thinking about this for quite some time, just waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up to you again. You let out a long sigh.
“Alright,” you nod as there is a sudden light in their eyes that was not there before, “but if I start to hurt you AT ALL, you will let me know, right?” You give them a pleading look, silently begging them to make this promise. Without missing a beat, it’s Hanji’s turn to nod.
“I promise!” They eagerly respond and, with that, they lay back down on the floor, their cheeks a crimson color as a love-drunk smile takes over their lips. 
With unstable legs, you move closer to them, your breathing is shaky and, for once, it’s not from the cold. You can hear your heart beating in your ears and it might as well have been the loudest sound that echoes through these empty barn’s walls. You feel your stomach twirling around anxiously but the sight of Hanji’s eager lips is enough to send a shiver down your spine and put your mind at ease.
Carefully, you place your knees on each side of their face. Your eyes meet theirs and you can’t help but feel embarrassed once more, almost as if this is the first time the two of you are being intimate. The genuine expression on Hanji’s face sends your heart into a flutter and you look away.
As they hook their arms over your thighs, they speak to you in a caring tone, their voice filled with what could only be described as the most raw and unfiltered love for you, “I want you to look at me, please.” Your lower lip trembles but you oblige, tilting your head down so that your eyes can meet, “your scent is intoxicating, I could spend the rest of my days down here, just living in between your legs.”
“S-shut up!” You stutter, the words barely being able to leave your throat. You want to look away, to avert their hungry gaze at all costs but you are drawn to it like a magnet. So you simply look into their whiskey-brown eyes when they first flip their tongue against your wet slit, your body shivering as a moan erupts from deep within you.
Even with their arms wrapped around your thighs, they are able to use their middle fingers to spread your folds apart, giving them better access to your swollen clit. You can hear the wet sounds of your arousal and their saliva being mixed together, along with the sound of their breath as they inhale your essence.
With each time Hanji flicks their tongue, you buck your hips forward in response. The loud sound of the thunderstorm outside covers any noises you are making, so you don’t even worry about trying to remain quiet. Though the cold air feels nice when it comes in contact with you, it doesn’t prevent the strands of hair that stick to your skin or the droplets of sweat that drip down the side of your forehead.
Suddenly, the singular layer of pleasure is split into two when their tongue stops its teasing motions on your entrance and softly begins to enter you. Not only that but there is a second point of pleasure that you can’t quite decipher until you look down at them, their adoring eyes focused on your face once you notice that their nose brushes against your clit. 
There is a blush that spreads across their cheeks, their breathing warming up your exposed pussy as they continue to lap their tongue around the deepest areas inside of you. They gulp down every drop of your essence, their movements are so certain that you can tell they have been waiting and preparing for this specific moment for a very long time.
You can feel yourself succumbing to their touch with each passing second, the lack of finesse to their movements would be enough to make any nobleman cry, their tongue pushing and prodding around the entrance to your wet pussy, teasingly lapping inside before returning to the outside while the tip of their nose continues to attend to your swollen clit.
You can feel yourself growing weaker, not because of an orgasm, but because of the way they make sure every inch of your aching cunt is being properly attended to. Your thighs tremble slightly and you can feel your body lowering itself on their face and, as a confirmation, you feel Hanji’s hands shifting from their spot on your pussy to a spot on your ass, where they use very little strength to gently prop your body up once more.
Moans erupt from you with the same intensity as the raindrops that fall against the rooftop. Their name falls from your lips repeatedly, almost as if you are chanting to the world who is the one to make you feel this incredibly good. The sensations increase once you feel their nails digging at the skin of your ass, a quiet gasp escaping from you as a result.
“Did I hurt you?” They stop their movements as soon as they hear you, a concerned expression taking over their features. You shake your head desperately and it earns a giggle out of them, “Do you want me to do it again?” Your voice betrays you and not a single coherent word comes out, only a quiet mumbling sound and a nod.
The feeling of their nails dragging across your skin and leaving behind red marks is enough to cause your body to lower itself against Hanji’s face once more, not from losing balance but because you are desperately seeking more contact with their tongue.
Hanji makes sure to use every part of their face to bring you the maximum amount of pleasure: their nose brushes against the swollen bundle of nerves that sits at the top, their tongue playfully teases your entrance while moving up and down and their lower lips brushing around the area, making sure not a single part of your aching cunt is left unattended.
Their movements are precise, almost desperate as they work their hardest to bring you some well-deserved release. You can’t help but move your hips in perfect synchrony with their tongue as you feel it entering your thigh entrance, exploring every inch as it drags loud moans from you.
“H-Hanji…” You whimper loudly, and your voice is hoarse as a result of trying to compete with the loud sounds that come from outside. Your breath is shaky, one of your hands travels towards their hair, playing with the loose strands of their side bangs as the other rests above their chest, holding yourself up and helping you keep your balance as your hips grind against Hanji’s face, “It feels… So good…”
You can feel the warmth of their breath as they giggle against you, clearly amused by the reactions they are getting out of you. When they pull away slowly, you whine quietly, annoyed by the empty feeling their tongue left behind, but then you hear their voice, low from desire as lust takes over their eyes, “Moan my name… Show me that your heart belongs to me.”
Their words alone are enough to cause another rush of pleasure to gush out from inside of you, straight into their mouth and Hanji can’t help but let out a delighted sound. The warm sensation rises to your cheeks and you find yourself embarrassed to say it, even if they have asked you to, even if you desperately want to.
“Hanji…” You decide to start off quietly, their whiskey-brown eyes shooting open as you feel a smile forming on their occupied lips. Their tongue continues to make its way inside of you, feeling every little contraction from the inside while the tip of their nose is now glistening with your juices. You’re embarrassed, there is no denying it, but your need to please them overturns any of the shyness, “H-Hanji, please… Keep going… I… I need more.”
Your words are breaking up and your hips gain a mind of their own, bucking against your beloved’s face like a loose horse on a track, there is no stopping you now, especially not since the familiar warmth has started to form on the pit of your stomach.
Hanji’s hands hold your ass up, making sure they are not being suffocated by your thighs. They can tell you are getting closer so they use that knowledge as leverage to speed their movements, their entire face now entirely focused on bringing you over the edge.
“Hanji… H-Hanji, you’re going to make me come,” you say in a shaky voice, your breath trembling just as much as your legs as you attempt to keep yourself steady. They take your words to heart, softly and meticulously moving around. Their tongue thrust in and out of you as their hands tightly squeeze your ass, their nails digging into your soft skin.
They know exactly what they are doing to you, there is no doubt in their mind that they are the only one who can make you feel this way, and the thought alone is nearly enough to send Hanji themselves into an orgasm. 
With a loud gasp, your body leans forward, your legs shake violently and you nearly feel yourself collapse on top of Hanji’s face but luckily, your hands hold on tightly onto a pile of old wood that finds itself in front of you. That is the only reason why you did not come crashing above them.
Their name falls from your lips with ease, cries of pleasure erupting from you as they slow their movements but refuse to cease them, slowly teasing your aching clit with the very tip of their nose. Your walls contract around their tongue and, by the look on their face, you can tell Hanji is in heaven.
The pleasure washes over your body like a crashing wave and it lasts for a while, just giving you this insane high that could only be comparable to the one you have seen from the guards who go venturing in the forest. This one feels different from the other orgasms you have had while having sex with Hanji… Not only more intense but more intimate as well.
Tears form in your eyes as you finally find enough balance to hop off Hanji’s face, catching a glimpse of your juices covering their face before they use the back of their hand to wipe it all away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you want to bury your face on their neck and never look at them again, but you decide against it.
Instead, you lay down next to them, their hand grips tightly around your waist while your fingers gently brush against their face. You lean closer to them, fully taking in the scent that you left behind, lips ghosting above each other before you take a step further and actually kiss them, finally tasting yourself on them.
Hanji’s tongue swirls around with yours, exploring your mouth to the fullest, not an inch goes by untouched and the combination of your saliva and theirs, plus the remainder of your fluids that is left on their face is enough to bring a whimper out of your partner. It’s a taste Hanji has never and will never grow tired of.
Reluctantly, they pull away, the necessity to breathe outweighing the desire the two of you feel in your hearts. The warmth from the fire flickers around you and the shadows of the night dance around their face, making them more beautiful than ever before. The love they have for you is evident in the simple way in which they hold you by the hips, pulling your body as close to them as they possibly can, almost as if they are scared that you will disappear the second you are not within their reach.
“You truly taste like the most addictive treat…” Hanji whispers, their voice husky with desire as their lust-filled eyes analyze every inch of your body, “I can’t help but crave more of you. That pussy of yours is all I can think about…”
Your breathing ceases for a few seconds as you silently choke back on your spit, not because you are embarrassed, although that was slightly the case, but because that was not at all what you were expecting them to say to you.
Not sure how to respond, you bring your lips against theirs once more. Your tongue rushes above their lower lip carefully, taking in every drop of your wetness that you might have missed. You can hear a faint moan escaping their throat, covered in desire.
Slowly, your fingers begin to trace their way down their chest, carefully touching the space in between their breasts. You start with circular movements, using the tip of your nails to leave behind a few red marks on their sun-kissed skin, and, in response, Hanji closes their eyes, finally allowing themselves to be vulnerable.
Once a breathless whimper escapes their lips, you decide to get a bit more daring, tracing the contour of their underboob with your finger. Their skin is soft and you know it would be so easy to leave a love mark if you so desired, but this time isn’t about marking each other, it’s about feeling the love the two of you have shared toward each other for more than a decade.
You nuzzle your face against their neck, leaving behind love-filled kisses that awaken goosebumps along their skin. The smell of their sin has always been one of your favorite things about them, the feeling of their wet hair brushing against your cheek, tickling your face ever so softly.
Your fingers continue to travel and explore every inch of their body, tracing a gentle line above their stomach and it causes Hanji to giggle and then immediately pout. You know how ticklish they are and yet, you just can’t help yourself but be delicate in your touches. 
With a smile on your face, you take a second to grip tightly at their hips, pulling them as close to you as you possibly can, eyes closed as you enjoy the warmth emanating from their body. The fear and anxiety you felt just mere hours ago dissipate with each passing second, the horrifying thought of a life without them seeming more like a memory than a possibility.
“Feeling clingy, aren’t we?” Hanji whispers, a grin so big stamped on their face that you could even see the singular dimple on the left side of their face. Normally, this would be the moment where you would roll your eyes, playfully push them away or even tell them to shut up, but they are right. You are feeling clingy.
“I just…” You begin whispering, trying to explain your track of thought without making a complete fool out of yourself, you are failing miserably, “I love you. I have loved you for so long that I don’t know who I am without having these feelings for you in my heart.”
“y/n, I- I,” they begin but you shake your head, squeezing their hips just a bit harder. Hanji knows that this is your silent way of asking them to stop talking and let you finish whatever it is that needs to come out of your chest. With a deep breath, you continue.
“You saved me, more times than I can count,” you whisper, your voice is shaky is a cocktail of emotions, “so I am thankful for the chance of ever being with someone like you. So yeah, I guess after everything that has happened today, I am feeling a little clingy.”
By the look on their face, you can tell they feel the smallest bit of remorse about teasing you, but it is not like they are going to apologize. You both chuckle softly, Hanji’s hand gently brushing against your cheek as you find yourself mesmerized by the spring in their smile while autumn was the season that stared back at you, those brown eyes doing wonders to your heart.
Hanji’s tongue brushes against your lower lip, traveling from one corner to the other before they proceed to nibble on the thin skin. For the next move, their tongue invades your mouth, swallowing the chorus of sounds that comes from your throat like it's a pond of crystal clear water in the middle of a desert. 
Before you give them a chance to reply, you decide to finally continue to move your fingers down, playfully twirling their pubic hair around. Your kiss continues, slowly and tender at first, bringing out the years of practice you have had with each other, perfectly in sync. Your fingers finally brush against Hanji’s clit, so you gently rub it in circles for a few seconds before using your hand to push their legs to the side, giving yourself better access.
Their desire is undeniable and palpable, they can’t hide the blush that has been spreading from their cheeks onto their ears nor can they hide the wetness that begins to pool onto the bed in a reaction to their lack of underwear.
“Tell me what you are thinking about…” You whisper, your curious fingers dipping a little below their original spot to drag out a bit of the wetness that begins to pool inside of them. You can hear Hanji’s quiet gasp and a smirk creeps onto your lips, “Tell me what has made you this wet.”
You can tell they are embarrassed, not only by the way their entire face immediately goes from a faint blush to a dark red as it spreads to their ears but also by the way they squirm beneath your touch, hips moving forward in desperate search for more contact with your fingers.
They struggle to keep their breathing steady but every attempt is futile, the words they were so proudly flaunting around when it was your turn to be vulnerable suddenly disappear and the only sounds that they can express are breathless and desperate moans.
Only when you threaten to move your fingers away do the words return to them, the response is nearly immediate as a sudden fear takes over their heart, “I… I keep thinking about y-you…” They know that isn’t a good enough answer, they trip over their words, flustered as their mouth dries up. Your eyes never leave their face, admiring every small freckle, even droplet of sweat that falls to their eyebrows, every spec of dirt left behind by the blowing wind and rain.
“What about me?” You inquire, wanting to hear the specifics of their desires. Your heart beats powerfully in your chest, so much that it nearly hurts. Your love for them has never faltered, from the first moment the two of you met, you have been inseparable, hearts beating together as one. The scenery of your beloved by the fire is engraved in your brain as you make a point to memorize every detail about this moment.
“T-The way you looked when my tongue was inside of you,” Hanji begins to speak breathlessly, with every word that exits their lips, you increase the pressure on their clit, rubbing gentle circles while using their own wetness to make sure there is no friction, “all the ways I can make you sound,” they moan, eyes rolling to the back of their head in pleasure.
“Keep going,” you indulge, the devilish smile on your face never once faltering. Gently, you begin to nibble on their earlobe, feeling as their grip around your shoulders tightens. They want to be as close to you as possible, even if it means your bodies will melt together under the fire and become one.
“I keep thinking about the way you look at me when you are about to come,” their voice falters slightly, trembling from desire. Their heart beats at a thousand miles per hour, and a few droplets of rain make their way inside the barn and dare to fall onto their head, mingling with the sweat that forms on their hairline. You can see their breath with every word that exits their mouth and yet, the cold doesn’t affect either of you in the slightest. “I think about the way your lips feel against my skin, especially when they - Ahh..”
You don’t give them enough time to finish the last sentence. You lower your torso softly, bringing your attention now towards their breasts, your left hand supports your body up as your lips tightly wrap around their nipple, tongue firmly swirling around the raised bud while your finger starts to slowly make its way towards their entrance.
Hanji arches their body slightly, attempting to guide your digits towards their most sensitive area. You can see how eager they are, not only by the way their hips buck forward but also by the small quantity of viscous liquid that has slipped from in between their legs, you chuckle quietly as your tongue continues to move around their nipple,
A small part of you wants to be slightly cruel and continue to tease them but when you look at them, those pleading eyes tugging at the strings of your heart until you can’t deny them any longer. Carefully, you slide your middle finger inside of them, their nails gripping at your skin as they close their eyes, a happy grin tugging at the corners of their mouth.
Once your finger is fully settled inside of them, you begin to thrust it in and out, dragging pleased moans out of Hanji, even if your movements are still slow and loving. But even though Hanji found themselves enjoying this experience, they needed more, you had been teasing them for a while, and having you sit on their face earlier was the cherry on top. They weren’t sure how long they would last at this pace. Their fingers drag over your arm, begging for more.
Not only do you comply and begin to speed up your movements, you decide that adding a second finger would be the best course of action. With your index and middle fingers buried down to the third knuckle inside of them, you pick up the pace, your fingers scissoring quickly.
Hanji is nothing but a blushing mess, their moans are loud as they try to bury their face on your neck. You continue your assault on their breasts, suckling on their nipples like your life depends on it, the tip of your fingers brushing against their g-spot, tickling them from the inside out as you try your best to help them reach their climax.
The palm of your hand grinds against Hanji’s clit, adding an extra layer of pleasure to the whole thing while your fingers continue to move in and out, dragging against the walls of their pussy as they continue to dance inside of them. Up and down, one side to the other, there was no direction you weren’t moving in.
You can feel their cunt getting wetter, more desperate for you as they continue to moan. You finally move your lips away from their breasts,  your eyes finally meeting once more as Hanji’s free hand runs over your face, thumb gently brushing above your cheek and you can see a single tear of pleasure forming beneath their eyelashes.
“I love you,” they whisper, their chest rising and falling desperately as they continue to buckle their hips in perfect unison with your fingers, there is no stopping this now. Their breaths become even more dysregulated, the desperation in their voice nearly palpable as they continue to repeat the same words over and over again, almost like a mantra, “I love you.”
“I love you too, sunshine,” you smile, hoping that your words will reach them, “I want to make you feel good.”
“You are…” They move their face closer to yours, foreheads touching as they wrap both their arms around your neck, propping themselves up in a way that allows your fingers to reach even deeper inside of them, “it feels so fucking good.”
It was rare to hear them curse, so for Hanji to say such a thing, meant you were more than definitely doing something correctly. You continue your movements, your lips ghosting above theirs as you speed up once more, the tips of your fingers fully exploring every single inch of their insides, leaving no pleasurable spot untouched.
They close their eyes tightly, mouth nearly hanging open as they barely find the strength to speak, “y/n,” your name falls from their lips with such ease, like their vocal cords were made to play the symphony that is your name, “you are going to make me come.”
“Come for me, Hanji,” you whisper, lips brushing above their cheek, carefully planting kisses on the area. You can feel their walls begin to tighten around your fingers, their pelvis raising in the air as they get closer to the edge, all you need to do is that one final push, “I love you.”
Those three sacred words always did the trick. With a loud scream, Hanji’s body begins to shake next to yours, arms pulling you closer as your fingers are nearly pushed out by the intensity of their spasms, but that itself isn’t enough to stop you. As you readjust yourself slightly so your body is more on top of theirs, you push in deeper inside, the tips of your digits continuing to brush against their g-spot while you slowly switch from in and out movements to circular ones.
They cling to you for dear life, wanting nothing more than to feel themselves being cradled in your arms. Once the intense pleasure wave has passed and their body finally seems to stop convulsing around your fingers, you decide to pull them out, leaving behind not only an empty feeling inside of them but also a long trail of their juices.
“You did so good, sunshine,” you say, bringing your digits close to your lips. Hanji’s eyes widen as they realize what you are about to do and their cheeks become covered by a darker shade of red than you have ever seen before. You smile, taking your fingers into your mouth as your tongue swirls around, taking in every last drop that they have left behind. You can’t help but hum happily, the taste of their pussy being the most delicious meal you have ever had in your entire life.
They watch you in a daze, almost as if they are under hypnosis. A mixture of scents fills the air: the smell of the rain against the grass outside, the smell of the fire crackling next to you, the smell of your sweaty bodies as you become one, but the smell of sex overpowers any and all others.
After a few seconds, you remove your fingers from your mouth, not a single drop of Hanji’s juices remains and, instead, a small string of saliva finds itself attached to the area. It’s the most sensual scene they have ever seen and, for some reason, they simply can’t avert their eyes. 
Hanji places their hand on the back of your neck, their fingers lacing themselves with the strands of hair attached to your skin by a layer of sweat. Once they finish readjusting, they pull your face towards theirs, lips crashing against yours in a hunger-filled kiss, swollen lips desperately searching for some sort of relief as they can taste themselves on your tongue.
Your teeth gently nibble on the soft skin of their lips, pulling the flesh towards you until it earns a long moan from Hanji and it draws a few drops of blood and neither of you seem to care about or mind about the newfound metallic taste.
Reluctantly, the two of you pull away, only a single string of saliva connecting your bodies. Your eyes meet Hanji’s and you are met with a look you are more than familiar with: the necessity for more. A warm feeling takes over your features as your chest rises and falls, you want to say something, anything that would make this feeling go away but the words fail you. All the confidence you had mere moments ago disappears and it’s up to Hanji to take the next step.
“You are so beautiful,” they whisper, their words washing over you like warm water on a cold winter night, “I am so lucky that I am the only one who gets to see you like this, the only person who gets to see Her Highness, Princess y/n, in a flustered state, sweaty and with your hair all tangled up. I want to be the only one… for the rest of our lives.”
“It has always been you,” you respond quickly, your voice trembling with emotion as you continue, “My first crush, my first kiss, my first time, every first I have ever had has been yours and I plan to keep it this way.”
It’s now Hanji’s turn to look away, their eyes are fixated on the wall until you bring your fingers gently towards their chin, moving their face ever so tenderly so they are looking at you once more. Your heart races in your chest, wanting nothing more than to look into their whiskey-brown eyes while you declare your love.
“One time, after I grew tired of reading the same old books in the castle’s library and begging my father for new ones, Libet secretly snuck into this extremely old book,” you begin to explain, noticing how Hanji’s eyes are shining even more brightly than before, they pay close attention to every word that dares leave your lips, “it came from a very distant land, somewhere I had never heard before but somehow it was still in English, much to my luck.”
“You and your books,” they smile playfully and you roll your eyes in disapproval before letting out a heartwarming giggle.
“In the book, I read about something called “The Red Thread Of Fate,” and it’s a theory that two people connected by a red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The cord may get tangled, but it will never break.” Your voice is now lower than a whisper, blood rushing through your cheeks as you explain your favorite tail, “The following day, I met you. It always felt like we were - “
“Meant to be,” Hanji finishes your sentence and you nod. You cup their face gently, thumb lovingly brushing above their cheek until you notice goosebumps forming on their skin once more. You lean down slowly, placing a couple of kisses on their neck, earning a few eager moans as they lean against you.
Your hands begin to explore their torso, aiming for their breasts while your fingers pinch their nipples gently. When they begin to exhale those sweet, sweet harmonies, you are no longer able to control yourself. You sink your teeth onto the smooth skin of their neck, leaving behind a mark, not a big one, but enough that they will remember it by tomorrow morning.
You desperately want to taste them again, this time directly from the source, but you don’t have the chance to make your way down. Instead, Hanji takes your chin away from their neck, fingers sliding down towards your throat as they ever so gently squeeze around it, earning a moan out of you.
“You’re going to be a good girl and listen to me, won’t you?” They ask, pulling you closer with a devious grin on their face, teeth digging into the flesh of their lower lip. All you can do is nod, your mouth hanging open for a slight second as you pay close attention to them.
You want to respond, you want to say something but words simply refuse to come out. Your brain has been wiped clean and the only coherent thought that even remotely comes to mind is Hanji: their slightly crooked smile, the raspy sound of desire in their voice, the desperation present on their touch as they dig their nails into your skin.
You whimper, that is all you can do in this situation. Their usually sweet eyes are now piercing through your body like a wild animal looks at their prey like they are addicted and you are the most fascinating drug they have ever had the luck of tasting.
Your hands go through their abdomen, fingertips carefully analyzing every little crook and dip, every scar they have acquired throughout their life, and even the smallest strands of hair. Your heart dips into your throat, nearly escaping your body but somehow, you can hold onto it. You want to tell Hanji how beautiful they are, how much you love them, how much you want this, but they are faster. Their words break the silence.
“I’m going to spread my legs, okay?” Hanji says, guiding you through the process. You nod and you catch a quick glimpse as the corners of their lips lift into a smirk, they continue to speak, “I want you on top of me, just like we used to do.”
You nod once more, focusing all of your attention on making sure you are following their instructions perfectly. Just like they said, Hanji’s legs part ways, their left leg is stretched on the bed while they adjust their right upwards, you take in the sight of their soaked pussy, the last few drops of her cum slide down her ass and land onto the ground, soaking the area below.
With your left hand, you carefully move their right leg up slightly, their knee touching their chest as they let out an amused sigh, this being the first time in years that this particular scenery plays in front of them. You slowly throw your right leg above theirs, your wet pussy pushing against Hanji's as you position yourself above them.
As your wet vulvas begin to touch, the two of you can’t help but moan in perfect harmony, a symphony of breathless whimpers filling the atmosphere. With your free hand, you guide Hanji’s palm towards your breasts and, eagerly, they begin toying with your nipple, pulling at the bud while watching for the pleasured expressions on your face.
It’s like something flips in your brain and your hips gain a mind of their own, eagerly bucking back and forth. You push yourself forward, applying more pressure to the point of contact between your two bodies and you can tell exactly where Hanji’s mind is in this moment.
With your free hand, you begin to explore their torso, nails dragging against their sun-kissed skin as it contrasts with the red marks you leave behind. The sweat on their face glistens as the light emitting from the fire washes over their features, their fingertips toying with your nipples before ghosting over to your hips, pulling you closer as they increase the pressure of your bodies pressing together.
“I love you,” they say in between whimpers, their voice trembling in a mixture of desire and need. You can’t help but feel yourself melting in response, a smile plastered on your face as you throw your head slightly back, your hair tickling your skin. Their fingers begin to dig bruises into the skin of your hips, an attempt to encourage you to speed up your movements, the sweet words pouring from their lips like a waterfall that cannot be stopped, “my heart calls for you with every beat, with every breath I take. I’m yours and yours alone.”
Your heart beats forcefully in your chest and suddenly all the moisture disappears from your throat, it’s nearly impossible for you to swallow and you almost choke on your words, but you want to return the sweetness they are expressing to you. So you sink yourself deeper against their aching core, the wet sounds filling the air as it mixes with the desperate moans the two of you let out.
“You’re angelic,” your brain isn’t sure as to what you are trying to say at this moment, so you allow your heart to do the talking for once, your breath is unsteady in between whimpers, “every part of you, every strand of hair that falls out of place, every freckle on your shoulders, every little scar on you is perfect. It’s almost like you were made for me to love.”
You continue to roll your hips, your cunt rubbing against theirs in a frantic rhythm as the two of you search for a high that seems closer than you could ever imagine. Despite what it may seem, Hanji’s body is more defined than they allow other people to know, it’s a direct result of constantly working in their father’s herb garden for most of their life.
From this angle, you can fully admire the silhouette of their body. You can pay close attention to the small arch of their spine, their back no longer touching the ground as they search for an even more intense connection between your two bodies. You close your eyes for a split second, still being able to taste their juices on your tongue.
Once your eyelids lift once more, you realize Hanji’s face is starting to contort into one you are more than familiar with. You yourself begin to feel the familiar tingling sensation as it forms in the pit of your stomach, and it only encourages you to pick up the pace.
"Fuck, baby girl," Hanji hisses in pleasure, their fingernails digging at your hips enough to draw a couple droplets of blood but that little bit of pain only adds to your pleasure. The way your wet pussy rubs up against theirs in a slow grind, the bundle of nerves colliding against one another as the two of you continue to whimper each other’s names. Hanji tilts their hips up ever so slightly, grinding back against you and matching your quick pace. You can feel your blood rushing faster and faster through your body, “I’m close…”
You nod, hands wrapping around their abdomen as you continue to hold yourself against them, “I-I’m close too…” You want to sound like the confident person you were just a few minutes ago, but that persona is long gone. All that is left behind is a whimpering mess, who can’t stand the mere thought of stopping her movements, “H-Hanji… Hanji, I…”
It hits you like a tidal wave. You aren’t even able to finish your sentence before your body begins to shake violently, your grip around them tightening as you throw your head back, you tried so hard to be quiet throughout the entire night but, just this once, you can’t help but scream their name in pure bliss.
Hanji isn’t far behind. In fact, the sight of your orgasm on top of them, your excess of juices dripping onto their entrance and mixing with their own was enough to shake them to their very core. Their nails dig into you tightly as they continue to move, drawing out every last bit of pleasure they can from this interaction.
You hold yourself into place and you can feel their clit spasms against yours, tears of pleasure forming in your eyes as you continue to whimper weakly. It takes nearly a minute for the entire effect to end and, only when the two of you are certain that there is nothing else in the tank, is when you unhook your legs, allowing your limp body to carefully come crashing down above their abdomen.
The two of you breathe heavily, lungs burning in a desperate search for oxygen. Your skin sticks together due to the sweat and neither of you even dares to move, except for Hanji’s fingers, which begin to lightly brush above the back of your right arm.
“I - “ the two of you say at the exact same time. Neither of you can help but chuckle at the situation, before doing it again, “You go first.”
With a small nudge of your head, Hanji begins to speak, “I knew from such a young age that I wanted to be your partner, that I needed to make you my girlfriend, even if at that point, it only meant holding hands and reading books together.” You notice a few tears begin to form in their eyes as they shift their face away from yours, trying to hide how vulnerable they feel at this moment. Almost as an instinct, you bring your hand up towards their chin, carefully turning their face back towards you, a few tears of your own threatening to fall down, “my entire childhood, I was surrounded by so much tragedy and death that I just assumed I was a bad omen, attracting sadness wherever I went.”
As soon as their words leave their mouth, you frown, a pout forming on your lips as you listen to them. You shake your head, refusing to continue to listen to them as they continue to speak about themselves in such an ill manner. But before you have time to intervene, kiss them, or even just tell them to shut up, Hanji takes your hand on theirs, fingers lacing together as their lips plant a small token of their affection on your knuckles.
“You taught me that wasn’t the case,” they whisper, tear-stained cheeks turning even redder as they blush, “you showed me that good things CAN happen to me. After all, I ended up with you, and I’ll be damned if I don’t admit you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me.”
You prop your head up on Hanji’s chest, the most beautiful brown eyes meeting yours in a love-filled stare. No words were needed at this moment for the entire atmosphere to be completely overtaken by the passion the two of you share for each other.
“I thought my life would always be this straight line,” you being speaking, your voice barely managing to get out of your throat, a result of all the moans but also the emotions that you had bottled up for a while, you want to let them out calmly but your mouth refuses to listen to your brain, so you continue, “I thought I would always have to dress up, play my part, marry a man and have several kids to make sure the bloodline and the kingdom were secured.”
“The idea of another person, especially a man, touching you makes my skin crawl,” for a second, you notice as their usually brown orbs turn dark, the jealousy in their voice not subtle at all. Before they have the chance to continue their rant, you plant a kiss on their lips. It doesn’t last long and, unlike the previous kisses you had been sharing that night, this one isn’t filled with lust, but with longing.
“My point is that from a very young age, I knew exactly who I was going to be,” you whisper against their lips, still planting a few kisses here and there as the words pour from your mouth, though your voice is still trembling, you have never been more certain of what you are trying to say, “and then when I met you, I was even more certain.” When Hanji shoots you a confused look, you smile and continue, “I knew I wanted to be your bride.”
A comforting silence grows between the two of you as you lay your head back down on their chest, the beats of their heart directly against your ear plus the sound of the rain outside truly made the entire experience so much better. It felt almost… heavenly. A while passes, you aren’t sure if it is minutes or seconds, but it’s enough for your eyes to begin growing heavy, a smile stamped on your face.
"I guess I haven't officially asked, have I?" They say, their fingers just ghosting above the back of your arm. You open your eyes just enough to look at them before propping yourself up on their chest, placing your chin on your hand in the hopes of not causing them any discomfort, a puzzled expression of your own on your face, and it drags an endearing laugh out of Hanji. "To be my bride."
Your face suddenly feels like it’s on fire. Of all the things you were expecting them to say at this moment, this one was not on the list. Yes, you were expecting a proposal eventually, maybe even at some point soon, but that wasn’t the reason why you brought it up in the first place. Not that you are complaining, to actually hear them say it? To hear them ask the very thing you have been craving since you were eight? Oh, the speed at which your heart beats in your chest could only be compared to a healthy stallion being set free in the wild for the first time.
"Please, Your Highness," they begin, a smug smirk stamped all over their features and a giggle escaping their throat once they notice how you roll your eyes at them, "y/n... will you give me your hand and marry me?"
Now it's your turn to laugh, a sound Hanji could never get used to, for it always meant more than the entire world to them. For some reason, they seem so nervous, almost as if they are afraid that you will actually say no to their proposal. You shake your head and place a kiss on their cheek, "I will marry you. I will gladly take your last name and get rid of my father's. I want nothing more than to live a long and happy life with you, Hanji Zoe.”
The light from the fire makes your shadow seem angelic like a goddess descending from the heavens just to bless them. Hanji can’t help themselves. They immediately pull your face closer, their lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, their voice is a mess of hums and whimpers, but there is no sexual connotation behind the sounds.
After you pull away, Hanji doesn’t open their eyes. Instead, they pull you closer into their chest, burying your face in the crook of their neck while their fingers hold onto your back tightly, desperately hoping to keep you from moving, but it’s not like you had any plans on doing so.
There is a smile on your lips that refuses to fade. The warmth from your beloved’s skin plus the sound of the pouring rain are enough to lull you into a deep slumber and for the first time since the night your mother died, you find yourself free from the nightmares that have haunted you.
By the time you wake up, the thunderstorm feels like nothing but a distant memory as the dark clouds have been replaced by the bright sunlight that enters the barns through the broken windows and the cracks. It takes your eyes a second to adjust and, by the time you become fully conscious, you realize you are lying there alone.
Your naked body is now covered by the previously rain-wet blanket and the fire next to you is now extinguished. You take a quick glance around, and can’t help but frown when you can’t seem to find Hanji anywhere. You stand up, finding your dry clothes lying next to you and the small hairbrush that was once in your bag now sitting on a compact mound of hay.
Once you are dressed and miraculously remove all the knots from your hair, you make your way outside. The first thing you see is your horse, happily eating and drinking by a small lake a few feet away. The pout that once took over your features now dissolves into a happy smile as you make your way towards her.
Carefully not to startle her, you place your hand on her flank, fingers gently brushing against the soft fur as she turns around. The horse’s head bobs up and down a couple of times before she immediately returns to her previous affairs and you decide to leave her be.
From the other side of her silhouette, you can hear the water splashing around, so cautiously you find yourself making your way toward the origin of the sound. Your heart immediately melts and you have to fight all of your instincts to prevent your body from turning into mush as soon as you see the view ahead:
Hanji’s pants are cuffed up to their calves, they aren’t wearing a shirt since it would just make it completely wet, so the water droplets fall directly onto their skin. Their hair is tied up in a messy bun and they hold a knife in their hand. One quick glance over to the side and you notice a quickly handmade basket holding a handful of fish and some fruits.
You take a few steps forward and clear your throat, wanting to make your presence known without alarming them. Promptly, they turn their head around and flash you the brightest smile you have ever seen, your heart rapidly swells with a thousand emotions, but the most prominent ones are love and affection.
“Good morning,” they say, taking a few steps towards you. Their arm wraps around your waist as they pull you close, a grin tugging at the corners of their mouth as their lips press against yours in a quick and messy kiss. It doesn’t last for long but it’s enough to make you smile from ear to ear, a truthful reminder that when it comes to Hanji, you always wear your heart on your sleeve.
“Good morning,” you respond once your lips part ways, your voice having a sluggish and almost needy tone to it, “you should have woken me up, you know. I could have helped!”
Hanji chuckles while shaking their head, their grip on your waist tightening as they place the knife on their belt, “I didn’t need help. Besides, you look so beautiful, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.” That stupid response, always made your entire face burn and always made you feel so shy just to hear it, but this reaction is exactly what they are looking for. “Let me make you some food, you must be starving.”
At the simple mention, you can feel your stomach growling. Your fingers brush against the fabric of the shirt that covers your stomach, allowing you to feel just how hungry you are. So you decide not to put up a fight anymore, simply nodding as they let go of you and reach for the basket on the ground, picking it up before making their way back to the barn.
Your eyes keep tracing the outline of Hanji’s body as they walk in front of you, the love marks you left behind on their neck are oh so visible when their hair is up like this. You can see every small mole hidden on the back of their neck and it sends a shiver down your spine, the thought of the previous night returning to you as you feel the heat growing in between your legs once more.
The only reason why you are pulled out of those thoughts is because Hanji dries their body off and puts on their shirt. A chuckle escapes their lips as they notice just how deeply you had been staring but, for once, they decide not to tease you about it.
Instead, they walk towards the spot that used to be the firepit, reaching for the same objects you used to make a fire the night before in the hopes of igniting it again. Gently, they pat the spot next to them, silently begging you to take a seat. It takes you less than two seconds to make yourself comfortable, your head resting on top of their shoulder as they begin to clean the fish.
It takes around two hours for the both of you to eat and clean up after yourselves, wanting to hide any and all traces of your stay as best as possible. While Hanji makes sure to cover up the fire, you place everything back in the bags, looking around for signs of anything you might have forgotten or anything around the barn that might be useful.
When you’re done, you reach for the piece of paper with the visual representations of all the lands explored by men. Your eyes go back and forth, trying to analyze every and all possible scenarios, the most hidden yet safest paths, and routes that might lead you towards freedom. Though, it is hard when you aren’t exactly sure of where you are going.
You can feel yourself growing more anxious, your breath trembling while a knot forms in your throat. It only dissipates when you feel Hanji’s presence behind you, the warmth that emanates from their body immediately calming you down as you realize they are just what you need.
“There’s a village a few more miles west,” Hanji says, pointing towards the blurry smudges on the map that slightly resemble a pair of mountains. Their chin rests on your shoulder, fingers brushing from the paper towards your hand and you can’t help but smile, “Maybe when we get there, we can get some more supplies and I think Elowen here would appreciate some more fresh carrots and apples.”
You hand them the map and nod, resting on your forehead on your horse’s muzzle, your heart beats at a rapid pace as you scratch her favorite spot on her chin. Her fur is warm and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain or discomfort despite the extremely long journey, so you let out a content sigh, knowing that this is all you could ask for for your most loyal friend.
“Do you think we will ever stop running?” You say in a whispered voice, a subtle hint of regret imprinted in your words but it is enough for Hanji to notice it. For a few seconds, all you can hear is the sound of the wind blowing the leaves of the trees and you ask yourself if they heard you, but before you can repeat your question, they sigh.
“I don’t know,” there are a lot of feelings laced in their voice: fear is the most prominent one, but also a bit of sadness. However, never once did you find a single shred of regret in their words. They continue, “But if it means keeping you safe, I will go with you to the ends of the Earth. We will go beyond the areas on the maps and form a little life of our own at the edges of the universe.”
You feel your entire face heating up at their words, even more so when you feel their hands wrapping around your waist as they place their head in between your shoulder blades. Your heart nearly skips a beat and a brand new wave of butterflies awakens in your stomach. It’s your turn to sigh.
“Do you mean it?” You ask softly. You already know the answer and still, your heart yearns to hear them say those three little words yet again. Hanji nods and you can feel them as they smile against your back.
“With every bit of who I am.” They respond, their fingers digging at your hips as they flip you around so the two of you are facing each other. Their hands continue to rest on your hips, thumbs gently brushing against the dips while your arms wrap around their neck, your face standing mere inches away from theirs. Their voice is now smooth like butter, as they finally proclaim what you have been desperately craving to hear, “I love you, y/n.”
A shaky moan escapes your throat, your body melting as an immediate response to Hanji’s words, to their actions, to the mere way they look at you. It’s like your lips gain a mind of their own, immediately seeking solace and comfort in their kiss. 
Every flick of their tongue raises the hairs on the back of your neck, the moment their saliva mixes with yours, it fills your taste buds with a flavor you could only compare to the sweetest nectar derivative from a sunflower born from a drop of sunshine. Your eyes are tightly shut but you can clearly see their face in your brain: the small way their nose scrunches when they are moving their head, the twitch on the corner of their lip when they realize how badly they have you in the palm of their hand, or even the way their eyelids tremble, struggling to remain shut.
As Hanji’s petal soft lips continued to brush against yours, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, all the fear you once had about running away melting with every beat of your racing heart. For the first time in a while, you fully allow yourself to be submerged in the overwhelming feeling that is loving Hanji Zoe.
The need for air begins taking over your body as your lips tremble against theirs but your mind is too clouded by the need to stay in this moment to pull away, so unfortunately for you, Hanji is the one to listen to reason and separate themselves from you. You pout, sadness clearly engraved on your features but it doesn’t last long. Hanji brings one of their hands up from your hips towards your face, their thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek ever so softly.
There is no need for words to be said between the two of you, so all you can do is nuzzle yourself against their palm, a trembling breath making its way out of your chest, almost as if it had been sitting there for as long as you have been alive.
You sigh, turning away from their touch as you take a few sure steps towards Elowen, who begins to excitedly clap her hooves against the ground when she notices that you begin to adjust her saddle. You can feel the warmth of the sun soaking into your skin and into your heart as you watch Hanji place your bags in their designated spot. They smile shyly to themselves as they gently pat the horse on the ass, a playful action that earns a neigh from the animal.
Once the two of you find yourselves ready, you are the first one to hop on the horse’s back, carefully scooting forward and adjusting yourself so that your beloved will have enough space to sit down. You reach your hand down carefully and Hanji giggles in response at how delicate your movements are, the blue blood that courses through your veins still apparent. 
Nevertheless, their rough fingers brush against your palm as they grab hold of you. Their foot shakingly touching the stirrup, unsure of when it would be the appropriate moment to leap from the ground. So in hopes of giving them a bit of assistance, you squeeze their hand gently, tightening your grip just enough to give them a boost of confidence.
That simple small action works like a charm and, within milliseconds, Hanji finds themselves sitting behind you on top of the horse once more. They wrap the cloak around the both of you once more, making sure that at least your heads are properly covered but not blocking your vision. Then, once you are both settled, they wrap their arms around your waist tightly, their cheek resting in between your shoulder blades once more.
You can tell that they have a smile on their face and the warmth of their body provides you with a sensation that is more than enough to keep the cold fronts away. So with a sigh, you carefully hit the heel against the horse’s ribs, kissy sounds making their way past your lips as she begins to gallop towards the village Hanji mentioned earlier.
As the trees pass you by, a sense of calm washes over you. “I would be getting married right about now if I had stayed behind,” you think to yourself. You can’t help but wonder if the royal guards are looking for you right about now if everything is okay with Libet or even Tegan. If your father has had yet another heart attack while having a fit of rage.
You shake your head, pushing away every thought that could be related to your old life. Your Highness, Princess y/n, the king’s only child and heiress to the throne died the moment her father discovered her secret romance with a peasant.
At this moment, all that matters is that you can’t wait to find out who it is that you can be now that you are free from the chains of royal duties and responsibilities that tied you in place. You can’t begin to conceive of a life in which you aren’t with Hanji, a life in which the two of you aren’t living together in a cabin far away.
It’s a life you have been dreaming about and finally, you are about to discover just how happy you can be while living the simplest of lives. After all, that was one of the many benefits of being a pauper.
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justsomegdude · 11 months ago
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Negan x Gn!Reader
No apocalypse AU
Summary: Fluff post, Negan and Reader just having a nice day together, loving each other, and making Christmas cookies in the end.
Warning: very little swearing, a lot of physical contact (no smut), no specific gender for this fic!
A/N: Okay first time writing a one shot.. If this ends up bad, or that you guys don’t like my writing style i’ll probably go back to just prompt writing, which after writing this.. i’ll most likely not have the motivation to write a new one right away anyways. It took forever for me to even think of something to write. I don’t think i like this myself, but Enjoy and please give feedback/ask me for anything you’d want to see me write!
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It was early in the morning and your alarm had just woken you up. Christmas was around the corner and recently you and your boyfriend Negan had been doing many Christmas activities together. He stayed the night last night after you watched a movie together. You had a plan of another Christmas activity but it required you to go out, and you didn’t feel like it.
Negan was still asleep next to you, he doesn’t wake up from an alarm so you have the opportunity to admire him. His soft expression when he’s asleep, his sunken in dimples that are unintentional, and somewhat hidden by his beard, his salt and pepper beard making him just that much more handsome, his slick back hair that is fluffier when he sleeps, he looks perfect under the morning light. You didn’t want to take your eyes off him. Him being yours doesn’t make sense, although he reassures you everyday that he wants you.
You forced yourself off the bed, careful to not wake him up. You began to get ready, a shower, new clothes, and making breakfast. You were making eggs and was going to wake up Negan when they were ready. As you were standing in front of the stove cooking, you hadn’t heard him until he wrapped his arms around your waist and his head found its way to the crook of your neck. Faint kisses were felt from where his face hid.
“Look who’s finally up.” You spoke with a smile on your face, enjoying his now woken presence and making sure to still watch over the food. His hands slowly rubbed over your waist and he looked down at the food, resting his chin on your shoulder now.
“Morning.” Negan said in his morning voice, you love when he sounded like this. Both of you having a smile on your face just from the mere contact of eachother. Having to break away from his embrace to put the food on two separate plates, although once you sat down the food onto the plate, and the utensil down in the sink, he came over and picked you up by your waist, which then had you letting out a gasp and swatting at his arm while laughing. “What’s the magic words!” He said with the widest smile he could possibly have, holding onto your waist as best as possible to make sure you wouldn’t actually get hurt, your squirming not helping his grip. Laughter filling the air from both ends.
“I love you?” You answered back in between laughs, as you looked over your shoulder at him. His smile increasing when you said it, he then set you down on the ground but didn’t let go of your waist. He held you close while peppering your neck with kisses. You loved how much physical affection he gave, it was a spotlight everyday with him.
“I love you so much more.” He spoke in between the kisses to your neck, which had gotten closer to your jawline. He had to one up you every time you said those three little words. If you didn’t know better you’d say it was his favorite thing to do. You flip around in his embrace so you’re facing him, his hands finding their way to the sides of your waist yet again. Bringing your forehead against his as your arms wrapped over his shoulders. “God, you couldn’t get more beautiful.. could you?” He spoke in a tone just above a whisper, tracing his hands lightly over your waist. The food you made almost completely discarded because of each other. His words causing such a nice feeling in your heart that made your cheeks warm. If it weren’t for him holding you, your knees would be weak.
You lean in for a kiss, which he had returned. The kiss was slow, but passionately gentle, this man was perfect. You could never get enough of him, he was so special in every way. Pulling away from the kiss to finally answer, but getting distracted by his beautiful brown eyes looking into your own eyes with such care and love. “I could say the same to you.. you couldn’t get more handsome.” You spoke with a huff of a laugh after it when he kissed your nose. “You’re already too pretty as is.” You continued as he peppered more kisses, onto your cheeks, nose, forehead, soft laughter escaping from his beard tickling your face, before his lips finally closed in on yours once again. You couldn’t automatically kiss him back as you were smiling. Although, not a very long kiss anyways as he pulled away to just admire you. Your smile is so wide when you’re around him that your cheeks always hurt.
Grabbing his hand to finally grab the previously discarded food. Holding his hand the entire way to the dining table. You had sat next to each other with him on your left, his hand still clasped with yours, which had made it hard for him to eat since he wasn’t a lefty. You spoke about whatever, small talks and other plans for Christmas as you ate. You could never get used to how magical this man was, the way his voice sounds, his eyes that always knew the right way to look at you to make you fall in love with him all over again, his embrace anytime he held your hand, or waist, or pulled you into a hug. He went out of his way to admire you in every way he possibly could.
He stood up, placing a kiss on your cheek and letting your hands fall from each other’s constraint. “You always make the best breakfast.” He says before grabbing your also empty plate and bringing it to the kitchen sink, rinsing it off and setting it down. You couldn’t help but admire him yet again. His eyes looked back to find you staring, which caused him to laugh. “You’re staring Darlin’.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, returning the admiration in his look, like the way you looked at him.
Your cheeks flush over and you lean back in your chair. “I can’t help it.. I have the best boyfriend.” This caused his dimples to sink in more, you love his dimples. You stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed like forever, until he pushed himself off the counter and walked over to where you sat in the chair, putting his arms around your shoulders. Your hands automatically moved to hold his forearms. He kissed your head before letting his cheek rest against the side of your head. You couldn’t help but be in awe anytime this man showed you the slightest amount of attention. “Hey Negan?” You spoke up, slightly turning to look at his face, which he had returned by looking at you as well.
“Yesss?” He drew out his word, smiling happily to himself. You knew how much Christmas meant to him, it was one of his favorite holidays. You know he likes tradition and you don’t want him to get upset that you don't want to do the plan today.
You decided it would be best to just get it out there. “I don’t feel like going out.. Can we just stay in today?” You watched his reaction closely, but surprisingly he didn't look upset. He did however close his eyes and let out a sigh. His grip around your shoulders tightened and he brought you closer to him.
“One of those days, doll?” He asked and kissed your head, you nodded as a response. You could tell he cared about you, since he automatically began to place kiss after kiss onto your head, his arms squeezing around you. He wasn't the best with words so he showed his love with physical love. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your cheek and looked into your eyes again.
“No, I’m sorry.. I know how much you love Christmas traditions.” You placed your hand on his cheek, and slowly caressed it. “I know you had a plan for today..” Whispering out your words and looking into his eyes with a sad, soft expression. He leaned in giving a small kiss, almost to shush you. You felt guilty, but why not do something productive while staying at home. “I know we planned this for when it's closer to Christmas.. But what if we made cookies today?” You smiled at him, which he reluctantly returned. God his dimples.
He seemed happy as soon as you offered, he wanted to jump up and do it right now, but it was way too early. “Of course!” His voice full of excitement, he really does love Christmas, “I’m so fuckin’ glad you’re still up to do something while we’re home!” He kissed your cheek, getting a laugh out of you.
The day was spent like most days, You both didn’t have to work though, since you both were gratefully given time off for the holidays. Most of today was spent relaxing, and having a little fun with each other by playing games, board games and online games. You were a video game couple for sure. By the time you had gotten bored of the game you were playing it was around dinner time, which is obviously before baking.
You got up from your spot on the couch, or gaming lounge as you call it, to get Negan to help with dinner. Spaghetti, your favorite. He made the sauce and you made the noodles, always the same arrangement. Both of you were cheesy when it came to spaghetti and did the arm link when taking your first bite. He would always tease you when you get sauce on your face, because for some reason, even when you’re careful, you’ve always been a messy eater. The same as breakfast, Negan got up to put both plates, and utensils in the sink.
“You ready for cookies?” Negan asks with a bright smile. Walking over to grab both your hands too lead you to the kitchen. He always gets so excited about baking, but it just makes his personality more attractive. “You get to choose the kind this time. Chocolate chip, or actual Christmas cookies?” His hands found their way to your waist as you both stood in the kitchen once again.
“I think I'm in the mood for..” you paused to think for a few minutes. “Actual Christmas cookies!” You returned the smile, placing a kiss on his cheek. Once confirmed he rushed into the pantry to get ahold of the items to bake. Setting them down on the countertop. You had taken out your phone and opened google. “I’ll get the recipe.” You typed up the recipe and kept it open to bake.
Setting your phone on the countertop near the baking ingredients, you went to grab the bowls, spoons, and other items for baking. Negan started reading off the ingredients and you had made sure that you had it all. Once you knew that you were all set you started. You put in the dry ingredients while Negan had his own bowl for the wet ingredients. You looked over at him, he had messy hands and a look of concentration on his face, your heart fluttered just from the sight of him. He’s so handsome doing the most simple tasks, how did you get so lucky. You were admiring him, and accidentally leaned onto the counter which led to you knocking over the flour bag onto yourself. Your clothes now all flour-y looking down with a sigh. Negan saw and he started laughing, getting distracted from baking. His laughter filled the room, but you weren’t complaining. You picked up the bag and threw some at him. He stopped laughing for a few seconds until you looked at each other, causing you both to laugh.
“You little asshole!” He said in between laughs. He then ran over to you, causing you to run away. The island counter makes it easy to run around in circles without being caught. You both had a devilish grin while running, he bolted for you and you tried to run, but he grabbed your waist and brought you into the air. “Got you!” His voice full of excitement, as he sat you down onto the counter he looked at you with his hands on your thighs. His beautiful brown eyes connecting with yours. His expression is full of love. You leaned in and gave him a kiss, the same slow but passionate kiss that you both seemed to love. He didn’t refuse and kissed you back.
The kiss lasted a few moments before you pulled away. “Okay as much as i love kissing you.. we have to finish the cookies.” You fake pouted with your hand on his cheek. He kissed your cheek one last time before helping you off the island counter and over to the discarded baking stuff. Your clothes, and now his clothes covered in flour, which will be a pain for when you have to wash them, but the memory is worth it. He finished his mix first and you finished yours shortly after. He grabbed your waist from behind like usual as you put the wet and dry ingredients together. You leaned back into him and his hands made small shapes on your waist. You kissed his cheek before returning back to the unfinished cookies. He took a few steps away and it caused you to look back over at him. He quickly found what he was looking for, baking trays, and set it down.
Almost as soon as you finished mixing he grabbed the bowl with the dough, and the flour, racing away from you. You followed him into the dining room which he had set down the stuff and was about to put some flour on the table so we could roll the dough. Negan was getting ready to sift the flour while you went to grab the other needed stuff, the rolling pin, cookie cutters, and the baking tray from earlier. Once you returned He was already spreading the flour around, and he looked up at you with a wide smile. “You’re so beautiful.” He spoke to you, you smiled wide in return.
“You’re so handsome.” Complimenting him back as you set down the stuff near the other end of the table, so it doesn’t get too messy. “Do we plan on decorating them after we bake them?” You look down at the flour, which was slowly disappearing as Negan had put the dough on the table and started to roll it flat.
He looked concentrated, until he looked up at you. “hmm.. I know we still have some time before Christmas and we know how fast we’ll probably go through them..” He looked back down to finish rolling the dough. “We probably could, just if we really wanted to decorate them for Christmas day.. probably don’t go all out for them.” You could tell he was thinking hard about it, but more than likely you won’t decorate them at all and just grab them on the go. As he finally had the dough laid flat, you grabbed the cookies cutters and set them next to it.
Negan and you were cutting the cookies with the cookie cutters. Reindeer, mittens, snowflakes, bells, Christmas presents, angels, and gingerbread men, were all the shapes that you had. You both had favorite cookie cutters, Negan seemed to favorite the gingerbread men, and you favorited the reindeer. This whole process was relatively simple and quiet, just enjoying the tradition with each other. There were times when you’d just look at each other with wide smiles while doing it.
Negan had left for a few minutes, saying he wanted to find something. Obviously you didn’t know what, he wouldn’t tell you either, so you stayed by the Christmas cookies, that had been put on the tray ready for the oven. When Negan finally returned, you weren’t looking at him. It gave him the opportunity to scare you, which no doubt he took. Gently grabbing your shoulders and like his plan, you jumped. Swatting his arm when you turned to face him. You didn’t know what it was he went to grab until he lifted his hand over the both of you with a mistletoe in his hand. “We haven’t kissed in so long.” He extended the word ‘so’ like you hadn’t kissed in years, although you kissed today.
“You don’t need to bring out the mistletoe when you want to kiss.” You sighed, but puts your hands on his cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. His hands held your waist and he pulled your close. The kiss lasted a minute or so until you pulled away. “Just ask for a kiss next time you goof.” You smiled, so he smiled back.
“Can we kiss again?” He licked his lips and when you shook your head he fake pouted, and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why the fuck not? you said ask.” He didn’t sound mad, he seemed more upset.
You softly laughed at his facial expressions and caressed his cheek. “I’ll give you all the kisses you want… as soon as the cookies are in the oven.” He had rolled his eyes at your statement and quickly turned away to grab the trays and put it in the oven. He opened the oven and slid the trays into it, and after he closed it he put on a timer. He eagerly made his way back over to you and pulled you close.
“How about nowwwww?” He gave you puppy dog eyes, which made you adore him just that much more. You leaned up and kissed him again. He quickly grabbed your waist and pulled you against him. Your arms found their way around his neck. You and Negan both enjoy this. For once he’s the one to pull away. “Your lips are an addiction.” He bit his lip looking at yours yet again.
You looked down and back up with a smile on your face. “Yeah? Then you’re my little addict.” You kissed his cheek, and you could faintly see the blush creep onto his face. You’re usually the one who gets embarrassed or flustered, but when Negan does it makes you sure, that you’re absolutely in love. “I’m glad I can spend my holiday with you, and i’m even more glad that you’re mine.” You spoke with you heart.
“I’m so fucking glad you’re in my life, where i can hold you, kiss you, and love you.” He spoke back and pulled you into a hug. You both just stayed there together in the hug, a smile on both your faces. Losing track about how much time is actually wasted, until the oven timer starts to go off. Causing a sigh from both of you. “I’m cuddling you again tonight.” He spoke while leaving your embrace.
You followed anyways, “I’m okay with that.” You smiled and watched him slide on a glove to take the trays out, making sure they’re fully cooked as he then set them on the top of the oven. “They smell so good..” You smelled the air, you loved the way Christmas cookies smelled.
He looked over at you with a smile. “If you were a Christmas cookie, I don't think I'd be able to eat you. You’d be too pretty.” Negan spoke up, a blush settling on your face. He came over and kissed your cheek. “You’re so easy to make blush, and so pretty when you do.”
You swat his arm. “You’re a jerk!” You laughed, Negan laughing as well. “Good thing I'm not a Cookie then. I’d feel lonely if I never got ate.” You said while putting your hand on the side of his neck, pulling him a little closer.
“I mean.. if you feel lonely now I can still eat you.” He winked, and you knew exactly what he meant. Your jaw opened which made Negan laugh at your reaction. “C’mon you should know me by now!” He spoke in between laughs, your jaw still hung open and you shook your head.
“Negan, as nice as that sounds-“ You closely watched his reaction to the first part of the sentence, his eyebrows rose and a smirk was now present. “No, not today.” You shrugged, which caused Negan to roll his eyes. You just smiled at his reaction, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip as he thought of something.
“So tomorrow?” He smiled down and pulled you closer.
“I hate you.” You rolled your eyes with a smile of your own.
(Tags: @pinchofhoney )
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zepskies · 2 years ago
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Never Say Goodbye - Part 9
Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 
Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)
Word Count: 5,000 Warnings: Angst, canonical character death, hurt/comfort and many, many feels.
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Part 9: Intensive Care
You only felt a little ridiculous repeating yourself for the hospital receptionist.
“Dean McGillicuddy,” you said. Your nails tapped impatiently on the counter. Meanwhile, the woman behind the desk seemed to take her sweet time sorting through the computer records.
“He’s in Intensive Care,” she informed you. “Just so you know, only family members are allowed to visit at this time. What’s your relation to the patient?”
You made the decision to lie before you even really thought about it—with an age-old tactic since the movie While You Were Sleeping, circa 1995. 
“I’m his fiancé,” you said. “What’s the room number?” 
Once she gave you the room, you booked it down the hall and up the stairs three floors (the elevator was taking too long). You were breathing heavier by the time you swept into the room, but then your lungs constricted. 
A gasp got stuck in your throat when you saw Dean. He laid intubated in the hospital bed, with several wires crisscrossed along the floor, two monitors steadily beeping, various bruises and lacerations spread across his face and arms, and a nasty cut stitched down his forehead. 
“Dean…” Tears welled up in your eyes.
Standing beyond his bed was an older man you hadn’t seen before. He had dark hair, a salt-and-pepper beard, handsome features. He also looked banged up with his arm in a sling (presumably from the accident), and in his blood-stained undershirt, wrinkled buttoned-down, and jeans. He looked up at you, confused and suspicious.
“Who are you?” he asked. There was edge in his deep voice, and his posture straightened. Defensive. Protective.
Another small gasp fell from your lips. Your gaze lifted from Dean to the man’s face and you instinctively told him your name.
He seemed to recognize it in an instant. His eyes widened as he realized who you were, then they softened. His shoulders loosened.
So you approached Dean’s bed and raised a shaking hand to the crown of his head. Very gently, you brushed back his hair, traced the outline of his stitches down his forehead. You sought the warm thread of your soul bond, but you couldn’t feel him at all. The connection was solid, but silent. 
The man on Dean’s other side shifted on his feet, bracing one hand on the bed frame. You then realized this must be John Winchester, Dean’s father, who you’d never met before. And he was watching you with some measure of curiosity. 
With a hot blush, you remembered your manners and stuck out your hand across the bed.  
“I’m glad to finally meet you, Mr. Winchester…sir.”
After a beat, his shoulders relaxed. His lips pulled into a smile and he took your hand.
“Just John is fine,” he said. “...Dean’ll be happy you’re here.”
You gave a weak smile. John was slow to lower back into his seat at Dean’s right, while you stood at Dean’s left. Before you could find something else to say, Sam walked in with a duffel bag and hell on his heels. He spared you a smile and a hug when he noticed you.  
“Good to see you,” he said, with a gentle pat of your back. You let out a halting breath.
“You too,” you replied. Despite the circumstances.
But when Sam released you and looked at his father, his face fell into a tight frown.
“Something wrong?” John asked.
Sam’s lips pursed. He dumped the duffel bag at his father’s feet. “You think I wouldn’t find out?” 
John’s brows furrowed. “What’re you talking about?”
“That stuff from Bobby. You don’t use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one,” Sam said. “You’re planning on bringing the demon here and having some stupid macho showdown!”
This conversation was lost on you, but you weren’t about to interrupt. You sat down on the edge of the bed, took Dean’s hand, and watched Sam in worry. John, however, looked calm.
“I have a plan, Sam,” he said.
“That’s exactly my point!” Sam shouted. “Dean is dying, and you have a plan. You know, you care more about killing this demon than you do about your own son!”
You’d never seen him so angry before. It was starting to scare you, especially when he emphasized that Dean was dying. 
Fresh tears burned in your eyes and your lower lip wobbled as you looked down at Dean. You didn’t notice that John glanced at you before answering his son.
“Do not tell me how I feel,” John argued back. “I am doing this for Dean.”
Sam glared incredulously. “How? How is revenge going to help him? You’re not thinking of anybody but yourself! It’s the same selfish obsession!”   
“You know what, I thought this was your obsession too,” John shot back. “This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be a part of this hunt! Now, if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would’ve happened!”
“It was possessing you, Dad!” Sam ground out. “I would have killed you too.”
You perked up at that, mostly confused. You’d pieced together that the demon had somehow caused their car crash, but it had possessed John too?
“Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now,” John said. 
“Go to hell,” Sam spat. 
It probably wasn’t your place to interrupt, but part of you wanted to speak up and stop this. You started to feel a growing sense of anxiety and frustration, even anger at these two men. You had the sudden urge to tell both of them to shut the hell up. 
Then a quiet gasp fell from between your lips as you realized something. You were anxious, yes, and scared. But angry? 
Had that thought really been yours?
It felt a bit like that first time, long ago. When you were a child standing in a cold cemetery on the worst day of your life, but you started to sense thoughts and feelings that weren’t your own…
“I should’ve never have taken you along in the first place,” John said. “I knew it was a mistake!”
Sam opened his mouth to spew back a hot retort, until a glass of water on the rolling tray between them fell and shattered on the tile ground.
I said shut up!
This time when you gasped, both John and Sam noticed you. Both quieted with apologetic looks. 
And one of Dean’s monitors started to beep more rapidly. All three of you stared at it for a moment in shock—and then it flatlined. 
Sam rushed out of the room and called for help while you pressed the emergency button multiple times. John called his eldest son’s name, and was still trying to reach him when the nurses rushed in. Two of the nurses guided you out of the way. You didn’t want to leave his side, but in shock and desperation you looked back at Sam. He gently took you by the shoulders over by the door. 
John also leaned against the wall while the medical staff tried more than once to resuscitate Dean with the defibrillator. Each shock arched his chest, but didn’t stabilize his heart. 
“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. Tears poured down your face as you hiccupped a sob.   
“Still no pulse,” the nurse said. The doctor nodded.
“Okay, let’s go again,” he said. “360.”
“Charging.”
“Clear.”
“All clear.”
By the third round, you were all but leaning against Sam with your face buried in his side. His supportive arm wrapped around your shoulder. He had the door jam in a death grip with his other hand.
I said get back!
The thought rang out clear as a bell in your mind. This time you could even hear Dean’s voice. 
And his heartbeat finally stabilized into a steady rhythm. You let out a shaking sob in relief. Sam’s hand tightened on your shoulder and he led you to a nearby chair. You looked up at him, not knowing what you wanted to say or what to think. Sam had similar relieved tears in his eyes. He nodded and let out a sigh before he turned back to his father, who looked three shades paler. 
“Want to get back to your room?” Sam said. After a moment, John seemed to snap out of it and actually see his younger son. He nodded, though his gaze was focused on Dean. Sam’s lips pressed, but he went over and helped make sure his dad made it back to his hospital room.
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“I’m sorry about that. All that arguing,” Sam said. He returned to you in Dean’s room with a cup of coffee for you. “Me and my dad…we don’t always see eye-to-eye.”
That was a bit more than a petty argument, but okay, you thought. 
“I can relate,” you said. “But Sam, what happened? What caused the crash?”
Sam hesitated, but he proceeded to tell you more about the Yellow Eyed demon, as well as the events that started from Sam and Dean finding their father, and the demon, and ending with being hit full-force by a mack truck. 
It was a lot to process with one watery cup of coffee, but you managed with a slight tremor in your hands. 
Sam assessed you.
“Did you drive here without stopping?” he asked.
You looked down at yourself and realized you were still wearing your blouse, skirt, and heels for work. You had stopped at your house briefly to grab a few things, but you still hadn’t changed or eaten since you left the museum.
“More or less,” you said.
“Maybe you should—”
“Sam,” you interrupted, “I…I heard something. Felt something. I think…I think it was Dean.”
Sam straightened in his seat across from you. “You did?”
“Through the…our connection,” you said. “When the glass shattered, and again when he…before they brought him back.”
Sam brought his folded hands to his lips as he thought. A determined look then flashed across his face. “I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” you asked. 
“I can…well, it’s a long story. But basically, I felt him too. I’m going to see if we can do something with that,” Sam admitted. You didn’t know what he meant, but you weren’t about to stop him. He left you alone with your coffee and your thoughts. 
You got up from your chair and made your way to Dean’s bedside. You touched his hand, his long fingers and scraped knuckles. You sought out the warm current of energy inside your mind, and you tugged on the soul bond.
Dean? 
You waited, but there was no response. 
Dean, can you hear me? you tried again. 
Nothing. Your shoulders fell as you deflated. The damage to his brain was enough to be unpredictable, but still, the doctor had very little hope that Dean would wake up.
You bit your lower lip to stop it from trembling. Tears still worked their way down your face. You covered it with your hands, as if you could block out the world and stop it from moving forward.
You just didn’t know that Dean’s ghost-like spirit was standing right next to you. He’d tried to call out to you, to Sam, to John several times, but none of you could hear him. Now, his heart was tearing at the sight of you. 
Unlike in phone calls and emails and texts you two had shared over the past year, he couldn’t just tell you it was going to be all right anymore. 
Because this time, he had no idea what he was going to do.
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Sam brought in a Ouija board to try and communicate with the spirit that was most likely Dean. You were skeptical, and even wary of that hoodoo crap, but Sam asked you to trust him.
Eventually, Sam was successful in contacting Dean. He was able to tell you and Sam that an actual reaper was after him.
“What’s a reaper? As in black hood and scythe—Grim Reaper?” you asked Sam. 
“Pretty much,” he said. “They help schlep souls to the afterlife. But if one’s here naturally for Dean…damn it.”
“What?” you asked in worry. 
“He’s…he’s screwed,” Sam said. “There’s no way to stop it.”
That gripped you icily, but the thread of energy inside you pulsed in your chest. You raised a hand to your heart.
Our souls are like molecules, you remembered Dean telling you once. Just trying to connect.
“No,” you replied. “I can still feel him, which means he isn’t gone. Isn’t there anything we can do?”
“I’m going to find out,” Sam said. He’d renewed his determination with a stealed look. “There’s gotta be a way. Dad will know what to do.”
Sam got up and once again left you alone in the room, packing up the board as he went. 
You let out a shaky sigh. He was likely off to do his own research…but so could you!
You went down to your car and grabbed your laptop (plus a sandwich from the food court). From there you returned to Dean’s bedside, tore into a tuna melt, and started looking up everything you could find on reapers.
It had been a long drive from South Dakota, and the most trying hours of your life, but you focused on the screen in front of you. 
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A few hours later, you struggled to keep your bleary eyes open and had to jolt yourself awake. You hadn’t found anything that could help Dean so far.
With a sigh, you set your laptop in the second, now empty chair. 
Dean? you tried again, but you could no longer feel his spirit like you had before. The bond was there, but it wasn’t thrumming strong. It was just…steady. 
For now, a traitorous thought whispered. You shook your head and got up from the chair, stretching your cracking back as you went. You’d kicked off your heels a while ago, so you padded barefoot to Dean’s bedside and sat down. You took comfort in watching his chest rise and fall in easy sleep. Or at least, you could pretend he was just sleeping.
Okay, channeling Sandra Bullock, you thought with a slight smile. You brushed your fingers through his short sandy hair, which was shades lighter than Sam’s and his father’s. Maybe Dean took after his mother. 
“I’m grateful, you know,” you said. Maybe it was silly to talk to him out loud, but getting the words out made you feel like he could actually hear you this time.
“Bobby, my dad, your dad. None of them got the time they thought they were going to have with their person. So…so however long we get, I’ll try to be all right with that,” you said, even though your voice started to break. 
“I just want you know, before anything else happens…that I love you,” you confessed. “I love you. The only regret I have is that I didn’t make you take me with you when you left. Because if I’m honest, I hate that you keep leaving me behind.”
You covered your face at the tears sliding down, trying and failing to blot them out. That’s when Sam returned. He was apologetic when he noticed the state you were in, but you waved him in anyway. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you cry today.
“Have you found anything?” you asked, sniffling.
“I’ve looked, but there’s nothing that can repel or kill a reaper. I can’t find my dad either,” he said. 
That fell between you with a heavy thud. You didn’t want to acknowledge his words, so you distracted yourself. You noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes.  
“Do you need a coffee? You look like you do. I’ll get you one,” you said. You wiped your face and got up to do just that, slipping your heels back on. Sam smiled.
“When you do that, it kind of reminds me of Dean,” he said. 
Your head tilted curiously. “What?”
“He may not look it, but he’s been looking after me…pretty much my whole life,” Sam admitted.  
You smiled. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
When you left, Sam’s smile dropped. He approached his brother’s bedside.
“I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “But I’ll keep trying, all right? For her sake, for everyone…as long as you keep fighting.”
He smiled and laughed a little. “I mean, you can’t leave me alone here with dad. We’ll kill each other, you know that. Dean…you gotta hold on. You can’t go, man. Not now. We were just starting to be brothers again.”
Sam let out a shuddering sigh. He stood in silence there for a few minutes, just wracking his brain. What can I do? What the fuck do I do? 
When you returned, Sam was still standing in the same spot. He almost didn’t hear you when you offered him his cup of coffee. 
“Sam,” you started, but that was when both of you heard a hacking cough.
A gasp fell from your lips.
Dean was choking on his breathing tube because he was awake. Sam went to press the call button while you called for a nurse. Soon enough the room was crowded again with medical personnel. But this time, your tears were born of relief.
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“Do you want some more water? Or are you hungry?” you asked. “I think I can snag you a sandwich from downstairs instead of the potato surprise they got cooked up for your neighbors.”
Dean stopped you from fluffing his pillow again. Sam sat at his right, not bothering to cover up his smile. 
“Hey, just stop, okay. Relax,” Dean said. He reached for your busy hands and un-busied them. He brought you down to sit on the edge of his bed. He liked the look of you in your pretty white blouse, black skirt, and heels. But he didn’t like how exhausted you and Sam looked. 
Dean stroked the back of your hand and glanced at Sam.
“You said a reaper was after me?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”  
“How’d I ditch it?” Dean asked.
“You got me,” Sam replied. “Dean, you really don’t remember anything?”
Dean rubbed his stomach with his free hand. “No, except for this pit in my stomach. Sam, something’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?” you asked in concern. Dean almost kicked himself. He didn’t want to worry you—
“I’d rather you tell me the truth than hide it from me,” you told him, more sternly. You’d picked up on the trail of his thoughts through the bond, which was once again flaring with life.
His lips quirked. “Damn. Forgot we’re basically human lie detectors again.”
“Yeah.” Your lips quirked into a smile. “So don’t bother trying, tough guy.” 
There was a knock on the door, making all three of you turn to see John Winchester. He stood in the doorway to Dean’s hospital room with his arm in a sling. 
“How you feelin’, dude?” John asked with a smile.
“Fine, I guess,” Dean replied. “I’m alive.”
You squeezed his hand at that, and he gave you a small smile. 
“That’s what matters,” John agreed.
“Where were you last night?” Sam asked. He stood from his seat, crossing his arms at his father. 
“I had some things to take care of,” John replied.
“Well, that’s specific.”
“Come on, Sam,” Dean interjected. You felt his annoyance and sensed this was an ongoing battle between the three men. That Dean had often been the one trying to play peacemaker here. The argument you witnessed between John and Sam made a lot more sense to you now. 
“Did you go after the demon?” Sam pressed.
John shook his head. “No.”
“You know, why don’t I believe you right now?” Sam snapped. 
Dean held in a sigh, lowering his head. He was too tired to do this balancing act between his father and brother. 
You rubbed his arm, though you looked between Sam and John uncertainly. You weren’t sure what to do either…
But John stepped into the room and kept his tone civil, even gentle. 
“Can we not fight?” he asked. “You know, half the time we’re fightin’, I don’t know what we’re fightin’ about. We’re just buttin’ heads.” 
Sam quieted then. He looked like he hadn’t been expecting that.
“Look, Sammy, I…I’ve made some mistakes. But I’ve always done the best I could,” John said. “I just don’t wanna fight anymore, okay?”
John looked damn near close to tears. According to Dean, this was a former Marine made of leather and grit and not much softness in between. You watched John in concern.
“Dad, are you okay?” Sam asked. He was picking up on the same thing—that something was off here.
But John only smiled. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just a little tired,” he said. “Hey, son, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?”
Sam agreed, though he still looked uncertain. John watched him leave, then his gaze turned to his eldest. You picked up on the subtle distraction for Sam, that maybe John wanted to talk with Dean in private. So you squeezed Dean’s hand and grabbed his water cup as you stood.
“I’m gonna refill this for you. I’ll be back,” you said. 
“Thanks, baby,” Dean said, though he reluctantly let you go. 
You weren’t proud of this, but when you left the room, you also left the door open a crack and stood near it with your back against the wall. You were too curious about John Winchester. While you’d gotten the gist of his relationship with Sam, you had only a small idea of what his relationship with Dean was like.
Meanwhile, inside the room, John stood by his son’s bedside. 
“You lucked out with that girl,” John said with a smile. Dean’s was softer, and you felt the warmth of it in your chest. 
“She’s…hell, I don't know why she puts up with me.” 
You were careful to keep your thoughts and emotions from Dean, but you couldn’t help melting at that. It made you feel a bit guilty for that part of you that resented him leaving you. His reasons were important, and as much as you hated the fact that hunting had landed him in the hospital, damn near dead…you understood his family’s fight.
But you were soon shaken from your thoughts as John said something unexpected.
“I’m sorry I told you not to go after her a few years ago,” he said. “Another one of those mistakes…they seem to keep pilin’ up.”
Dean looked at his father a bit harder. There was something wrong. “What’s going on, Dad?”
You listened as John apologized to Dean. He’d put too much on a child’s shoulders. He should’ve protected his son, both of his sons, better. He shouldn’t have made Dean grow up so fast. 
“I just want you to know that I am so proud of you,” John added. 
You sensed Dean’s discomfort, even as your heart broke for him. 
“This really you talking?” Dean asked. John laughed a bit. 
“Yeah, it’s really me.” 
“Why’re you saying this stuff?”
You couldn’t hear what John said next, but you felt Dean’s reaction. Shock, disbelief, confusion—it was a confusing mix to try and sort through. And it only piqued your curiosity further. Before you could figure it out though, the hospital room door opened.
You scrambled to make it look like you had just gotten back, but John graciously smiled and didn’t comment on your obvious eavesdropping.
“Do me favor, sweetheart,” he said. 
“Uh, sure, what do you need?” you asked. 
“Dean can be a bit like me. Stubborn,” he said. “Just…look after him for me, okay?” 
You looked up at him in slight confusion. “Of course.”
Though you nodded, you were also concerned. Was he planning to make a run for it without his sons again? Was he going to go after Yellow Eyes himself? 
John rested a gentle hand on your shoulder as he passed by you down the hall. You watched him go, but Sam returned with his dad’s requested coffee in hand. 
“I think he went back to his room,” you told him. “Though you might want to check in on your dad. Something seems a bit off with him.”
Sam frowned. He also touched your shoulder as he passed by, and it made you smile. Maybe it’s a Winchester thing.
You took a breath and refilled Dean’s water like you promised you would. When you got back to his room, his greeting smile was weaker than usual. You wanted to ask him about what his dad had meant by years ago, but…you didn’t think this was the time. Dean needed rest.
You set the cup of water on the rolling tray and once again sat down on the edge of his bed.
“Are you hungry? I’ll get you that sandwich, unless you want something else,” you offered. 
“I want you to stop running around,” Dean said. He sighed and rested a hand on your thigh. “I’m sorry about all this.”
You gave him an incredulous look. “You were hurt, Dean. You don’t need to be sorry.” 
“Yeah, I do,” he said. His eyes were serious, boring into yours. You bit your lip in concern.
“But, there is something I want,” he said, a note of teasing in his voice. He tugged on your hand, playfully pulling you toward him. You inched a bit closer. 
“Come on, all the way,” he beckoned with a hand. You couldn’t help but smile and let him pull you into his arms, and then in for a soft kiss. It didn’t take long for him to deepen it, his warm hand spanning the small of your back. 
He’d been cleared by the doctor, but you were still careful with him when you touched the side of his face. It was rough with days of stubble. And he would be lucky if he didn’t have a scar left from the cut down his forehead. 
The past year alone had changed him, but you were so grateful he was alive.
Stroking his cheek, you pulled away so you could see his face. You wanted to tell him you loved him while he was awake. So you did.
“I love you, you know that?” you said. “Whether it was God, or the universe, or sheer luck of the draw, I’m glad you’re the one I got saddled with. You’re the one my soul chose.”
You both saw and felt Dean’s soft shock. Your words touched him in a way that maybe even he didn’t fully understand. 
His mouth fell open to respond, but before he could, both of you noticed a team of nurses and assistants rushing down the hallway. 
“What the hell’s going on?” Dean wondered. 
“Stay here. I’ll go check,” you said. You didn’t want him getting out of bed just yet, even if he was mysteriously healed. 
You hurried into the hall and followed the rush, only to find Sam.
He was holding John’s body on the ground, shouting, crying, and trying to shake his father awake. 
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Dean’s body healed, but his heart was not so easily persuaded.
The three of you returned to South Dakota and performed a small, quiet funeral for John Winchester. Bobby explained that burning his body was insurance—so his spirit wouldn’t linger like your mom’s had. 
It made sense, but it still felt wrong to you to burn their father out in the open woods like this. It felt like it wasn’t enough. And though Dean tried to hide it from the bond, you knew he was breaking inside, just like Sam was. 
In the days afterwards, Sam and Dean stayed with Bobby while the latter worked on restoring the Impala, which had basically been crunched like a pretzel in the crash. It was beyond totaled, but if you had learned one thing about Dean, it was that this car was sacred. Even if there was one working part, it was worth taking it apart and putting it back together again.
So you watched him work in the salvage yard from inside the kitchen, where you and Bobby talked over a glass of iced tea. Slowly but surely, you were trying to get the man to cut back on the liquor.
“Something wasn’t right about it, Bobby,” you said. “When I talked to him, John was fine. He asked me to look after Dean, like he was about to take off by himself again. Like he knew he was going to leave, or…”
Like he knew he was going to die, your mind finished what you couldn’t say.
Bobby hefted a long sigh. He looked out the kitchen window at Dean for a moment. 
“Bobby?” you prodded.
“The Colt is missing,” he said. 
You nodded. The Colt was a gun, made by a known gun maker and hunter, Samuel Colt, in 1835. Sam and Dean had told you that this gun was made with special bullets. It was the only weapon on earth that could possibly kill any supernatural creature, including the Yellow Eyed demon. 
“The demon took it, didn’t he?” you said. 
“I think John gave it to him,” Bobby said. Your eyes widened.
“What do you mean?”
“I think it was a trade,” he replied. “Dean’s life for John’s, and the gun that could kill him.”
And by him, you assumed he meant Yellow Eyes. Which meant that John hadn’t been after the demon, like Sam had assumed. John had struck a deal instead. 
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A few days later, Sam convinced Dean to come with him to investigate an old voicemail on one of John’s phones—from a woman named Ellen. Dean was more inclined to keep working on his car, but he reluctantly agreed to find this woman at a bar in Nebraska, called Harvelle’s Roadhouse.  
You came by Bobby’s house after work to catch them before they left. You watched Dean pack his bag in swift moves. His face was relaxed, but he was careful to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself, away from the bond. You handed him a shirt of his that you had been borrowing, and he took it with a brief “thanks.” He hadn’t truly looked at you in days.
“Dean.” You halted him with a gentle hand on his arm. It got him to look at you, at least. 
“If you need anything, even if it’s just to talk, just call me,” you said. He gave you a smile that barely reached his eyes. 
“I’m fine, really,” he said. “But thanks. I’ll let you know when we’re on the way back. Guarantee, this isn’t gonna take long.”
That wasn’t what Sam said, but Dean just kissed you on the cheek and made his way downstairs to meet his brother.   
That was Monday. It was a Saturday by the time they got back, so you were able to come by your uncle’s house and catch the brothers talking outside. You started to head toward them, but you sensed Dean’s unease through the bond. So you hung back behind a large van that at the very least, needed a new bumper.
“About me and Dad,” you heard Sam say. “I’m sorry the last time I was with him, I tried to pick a fight. I’m sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So, you’re right. What I’m doing right now is too little. It’s too late.”
You heard emotion start to make Sam’s voice tremble, and your heart broke for him too.
“I miss him, man,” he said. “And I feel guilty as hell. And I’m not all right, not at all…but neither are you. That much I know.”
A tendril of Dean’s irritation made it through your bond. But it was laced with deeper emotions than you’d ever felt from him—self-loathing and disgust with himself being the least of them. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand.
“I’ll let you get back to work,” Sam said. You heard his boots crunch toward you, but you couldn’t make yourself move. 
When Sam eventually found you, he looked surprised to see you, but then he softened and laid a hand on your shoulder. 
What should I do? you wanted to ask him. You didn’t know what Dean needed right now. Did he need space? Should you try to talk to him, comfort him? And if you did, what the hell should you say? 
Dean had seemed to know exactly how to comfort you after you burned your mother’s ring, laying her to rest. Before that, he’d gotten you to open up about Danny Schmitt and how that experience had rattled you. But now, you couldn’t do the same for Dean, your boyfriend. Your soulmate. 
Sam didn’t have words for you either though. He just continued inside the house, leaving you standing at a crossroads of decision. 
Right now, you felt like a failure. Your mom had always known what to say to your dad. Their connection had seemed…well, seamless. 
But you were startled out of your thoughts when you heard a crash of metal on metal. You rushed out to the clearing where Dean had already spent two weeks working on the Impala. Now he was wrecking the hood and body all over again with a large crowbar. 
You remained at a distance for a minute, not sure how to get closer but too worried to leave him be. 
Dean? you reached out tentatively with your mind.
His hands tightened on the crowbar as he struck the dented hood of the car again. Then he beat through the windows with a spectacular shatter of glass.
You flinched with a small gasp. But that sound was enough to cut through it all, at least for Dean. He stopped short, though he was heaving for breath. He looked back at you over his shoulder, his eyes widening. 
He lowered his arms and was purposefully slow when he tossed the crowbar back onto the car’s hood, letting it go. He didn’t want to face you again. You knew because you felt his shame come through the connection.
You were hesitant at first, but you deemed it safe enough to approach him. His gaze stayed on the ground, even when you touched his back. His shirt was dusty and drenched with sweat. 
Sorry, he imparted to you. 
You shook your head and slipped your hand into his. He squeezed your hand, and that gave you the courage to wrap your free hand around his arm and press yourself against his tall, strong frame from behind. But he didn’t always have to be strong.
I love you, you reminded him. Your dad loved you too. 
You let out a shaky breath. 
The last thing he said to me was a request, you said, and with a slight smile, He said you could be a lot like him sometimes, a bit too stubborn. He asked me to take care of you…and I promised that I would.
Dean breathed heavily through his nose. You knew he was fighting it, but you rubbed his arm and stayed there until the dam in both of your minds finally broke.
He released everything he was hiding from you. All his shame, the depths of his distress and grief. It all but shredded your heart. 
Tears burned in your eyes and fell, but you didn’t let that stop you from slipping around him and taking his face in your hands. When he looked down at you, his eyes were shining and red.
His mouth trembled, but neither of you spoke. You just leaned up and wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, bringing him to you as tight and warm as you could. 
His arms likewise slipped around your frame. At first it was just instinctive, holding you back. But as you continued to rub his back and soothe your fingers through his hair, his tight shoulders loosened.
Dean clung to you then, burying his face into your hair, your neck, pressing his lips into your skin. 
And he let go. 
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AN: Whew, lots of drama and feels there. Every time I watch 2.01 I wanna give both brothers a ginormous hug. Especially Dean, poor guy.
But the reader finally met John (however brief that was). And she finally let Dean know exactly how she feels. The question is: when will Dean?
So let me know what you thought of this chapter!
The next one will be a bit lighter: the reader and Dean go on their first real date!
To keep reading: PART 10
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blacklegsanjiii · 9 months ago
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im kind of imagining for revolutionary!sanji that maybe theres a moment in alabasta where luffy and ace say something that sabo always used to say, maybe an inside joke, and everyone is confused but sanji kind of unintentionally mutters "youre just like sabo" and their heads snap towards him. cue an intense and furious interrogation that sanji is trying to evade bc he thinks sabo maybe pissed them off during a mission and they have no clue how the fuck sanji knows their dead brother's name
maybe not canon to your au but a fixit alternative?
Oh my gosh..... Ace and Luffy pester Sanji until they find out who Sabo is.
Sanji who is just watching these two feral adults, one of which lit his cigarette with his fruit. He's mentioned offhandedly having a brother he doesn't get to see often. Probably only once like when he talks about being from the North Blue. Sanji can't talk about a lot of stuff just because of how high ranking he is the Revolutionary Army.
So he's watching them and all the dumb shit they're doing and is just like "you're both just like Sabo" under his breath and they whip around to look at him. He doesn't know Sabo is their dead brother and they didn't know another Sabo could exist in the world. When Luffy and Ace ask about him Sanji doesn't really answer.
Can't risk whatever Sabo is doing right now. They keep pestering him throughout Alabasta. After a while Sanji is like "he's my brother! Okay! I don't get to see him a lot!" And then Luffy rubbers his way into Sanji's pockets and finds a photo of him and Sabo in their early teens, Sabo who has a massive scar covering one of his eyes and going into his hairline. Ace and Luffy are just staring at it and crying because that's their brother and everyone is confused and Nami and Zoro are hitting Sanji because he didn't tell them!
"It's not my fault Sabo never mentioned them! And it's not Sabo's either because he doesn't have his memory from before showing up!" Sanji defends himself and Sabo and everyone is like "he's at Baratie?" And Sanji shrugs and says he doesn't know where Sabo is right now and he probably won't for a while. It's just how it is.
ALTERNATE MARINEFORD BELOW
Fuck it if this happens Sanji is like "Hey, we need to get to Marineford right now." To Sabo and Sabo is like "SWEET WE'RE FUCKING UP AN EXECUTION AND DRAGON DOESNT KNOW!"
Sanji and Sabo make it and Sanji is dressed in his Revolutionary best. Ace and Luffy are looking at these blond dumbass revolutionaries. And once Ace is free and Sanji and Sabo send them to the White Beard fleet Sanji and Sabo are grinning at these top Government officials like "haha dragon is going to be pissed" only for Ivankov to have them scruffed and hauled off too.
"I would expect better from our chief of staff and head of espionage! Honestly, what do these two have do with you two?" Ivankov demands as they gesture between the four of them and Sanji is like "well he's my Captain, he's my Captains brother, and they think the know Sabo from before times."
Ivankov is looking between them as Ace is reeling because he almost died, his pops did die, Luffy saved him, his other dead brother is alive and the cook is a revolutionary and so is his dead brother and they are high ranking? What the fuck? Also the before times?
And Ivankov is just leaning over them like "explain yourselves, we raised you better than this!" As Sabo and Sanji point out they were raised soldiers and Sabo doesn't remember anything before showing up on Baltigo when he woke up to Sanji staring at him. Koala grabs Sabo's pipe and nails both of the blonds with it and screams obscenities that belong in the void century.
Sabo is blinking at Sanji as blood is running down their faces then at Ace and Luffy. "If that's all it took to bring your memories back I'm going to hit you again." Koala threatens and Sabo fucking runs from her making her give chase and Ivankov is muttering to themself as Koala chases Sabo around the ship. And seeing an opportunity to make it worse Sanji is like "Koala, look at this!" As he lights his legs on fire.
Sabo throws Sanji into the ocean and Koala hits him with the pipe like a baseball sending Sabo flying after him. Ivankov can't believe this is head of espionage and the chief of staff. Ace and Luffy are crying their brother is alive but also very confused at the pipe weilding woman who just brained both Sanji and Sabo. She's kind of scary.
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thegreymarveljedi · 3 months ago
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A Teddy Bear Hug
Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
Okay! Here is my Obi-wan x Reader fic! This is an AU where Anakin does NOT turn to the dark side. He and Padme are raising Luke and Leia together, Ahsoka is a part of the order again, Jedi attachments are allowed, the Kaminoas were arrested, clones have stopped being made but the GAR is still a thing but clones have rights. Waxer and Boil live and over all I am very happy with how this has turned out.
I’ve had this story in my drafts for about a year now I finally had the motivation to finish it so I hope you all enjoy it!
Warnings: 18+ SMUTTTT, implications of sex, p in v sex, fingering, handy, allusions to oral sex, dirty talk, Obi-wan being filthy, teasing, FLUFFFF, Anakin and Padme cameo, lots of soft moments, a dash of angst if you squint, implied pregnancy, just super fluffy
Words: 5.0k
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The room was quiet, filled with a comfortable and calming silence. The curtains of the room were blown gently around by the breeze coming through the open window. The sun cascaded in, illuminating the two bodies that lay peacefully upon the bed in the corner of the room.
The covers were pulled up to their chins as they cuddled one another, keeping each other warm. Soon the women’s eyes fluttered open and she smiled at the sight of her sleeping husband’s face. She slowly and softly brought her hand up and brushed some of his hazel brown hair away from his face, combing her fingers through it gently.
A smile graced the man’s face as he slowly opened his eyes, squinting a bit at the sun before looking into the eyes of his beloved wife. Both smiled and shared a gentle kiss before snuggling right back into each other.
“Good morning my love,” Obi-Wan said and brought his wife closer to him, his arms wrapping around her middle. (Y/N) smiled and grazed her fingers along his full beard, smiling at the stiffness of it and remembering the events of the night before.
“Good morning my handsome Jedi~” she replied, giving him another kiss before cuddling into his chest and bringing her hands to his heart. Obi-wan smiled and brought her closer, kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, then every inch of her face that he could reach.
She giggled at the actions and he let out a chuckle before rolling their bodies so that (Y/N) lay on top of him. She smiled again and kissed where his heart is before placing her ear against it. The rhythmic beating of his heart matched her own and in that moment they were one with each other, just as they had been the night before.
(Y/N) sat up slowly and moaned softly in pain before gently getting up and standing from where she lay, legs wobbling just a bit. Obi-wan whined and reached to grab her again but she laughed and moved from his hands. (Y/N) smiled at her husband, an adult by appearance, a child at heart, she thought and smiled.
Obi-wan looked at her and gave her his best pout but failed when he saw his wife giggle. Obi-wan smiled and sat up from his laying position and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching his wife dress in her undergarments and silk sleeping gown.
(Y/N) had her back to her husband but she could feel his eyes watching her. She peeked over her shoulder slightly before tossing his underwear at him and smirking, attempting to disappear into the adjacent fresher.
Obi-wan smirked, using the force to stop her from moving into the fresher. (Y/N) gasped as she was held in place, only being able to turn her head to look at her mischievous husband. Said man smirked and pulled her back to him with the force, wrapping his arms around her once she was in reach.
“I do believe that is not fair Master Jedi,” (Y/N) said as Obi-wan smiled into her shoulder.
“Well, I wanted you to come back,” Obi-wan said and kissed her shoulder. (Y/N) shivered, thinking back to last night and the things that took place.
“Obi…” she sighed softly, her husband moving his hands along her body. He moved one of his hands up her body to her neck, gently placing his hand there with no pressure as his other hand moved down to her thigh.
“Relax my love,” He whispered seductively into her ear, kissing along the skin of her exposed upper back, neck and shoulders. Her hands found purchase on his thighs, running her thumbs along them.
He continued his kissing while moving his hand farther up her thigh, moving under her sleeping gown to her panties. She began to pant and squeeze his thighs a little more to stay grounded, the feeling of her husband teasing her getting to her. Obi-Wan moved his finger to brush against her clothed clit, electricity shooting through her at the contact.
“My love…” she sighed softly and Obi-Wan smirked, moving his other hand down to fondle her breasts.
“Yes dear?” He whispered seductively in her ear, finally applying pressure to her clit and rubbing it in circles. Her head tilted back to rest on his shoulder as he pinched one of her nipples and continued playing with her clit. Her legs subconsciously widened, giving Obi-wan more access to her body.
“So responsive darling~” he said and bit down on her neck causing her to moan and buck her hips into his hand. (Y/N) whined as his fingers on her clit slowly came to a stop.
“W-why’d you s-stop?” She stuttered, bucking her hips to try and bring his fingers back. Obi-wan only chuckled and brought his hand back up to her throat, applying the lightest amount of pressure.
“To tease you~” he said mischievously before moving his fingers lower and slipping two in with ease. Her head fell back against his shoulder again as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her.
Y/N gripped his thighs as her toes curled at the feeling of her husbands fingers inside of her. Obi-wan smirked and added a third finger making his wife moan.
He always loved the sounds she made when he pleasured her. They were some of his favourite things to hear. He gasped softly as he felt her hand reach back between their bodies and grab his cock. Obi-wan was rock hard and he moaned as she began moving her hand up and down his cock as best she could.
“Fuuuck~ darling your hand feels so good wrapped around my cock~” Obi-wan groaned and moved his fingers faster causing (Y/N)‘s pace on his cock to stutter.
“Your fingers feel so good~ Obi, O-Obi~” she gasped and moaned, gripping his cock harder and trying to pump it faster.
Before she could blink, (Y/N) was on her stomach, hands pinned above her head and hot breaths fanning the back of her neck. Hot, wet kisses were being trailed down her neck to her shoulder blades. Obi-wan growled as he felt his wife wiggle her ass against his cock.
“Please~ please Obi-wan, please fuck me, I want you so bad~” (Y/N) panted and squirmed, trying to entice her husband to fuck her. Obi-wan just smirked and shook his head, leaning down so that he was practically laying on top of her.
“You want my cock in your pretty pussy? Is that what you want my good girl?” Obi-wan taunted, grinding his cock against her ass. All (Y/N) could do was nod and hope that was enough. Obi-wan seemed to be just as impatient because he pushed her night gown up to her midsection and pulled her panties to the side. He lined up with her pussy and pushed in without a problem.
“Yessss~ oh fuck Obi~” she groaned and bit her lip, pushing back just a little until his cock was buried deep inside her. (Y/N) moaned as Obi-wan began thrusting, his hand coming up to hold her’s above her head.
“Fuck your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock~” he said as he thrusted into her. He groaned as he felt his beloved clench around him, only pulling him in further.
“I love it when you fuck me~ ah~ oh fuck, you fuck meee so g-good~” (Y/N)‘s sentences were barely coherent as her husband continued to rail her into the mattress. Her legs began to shake and her toes began to curl until she was just a moaning, whimpering mess.
Obi-wan smirked as he railed into his wife harder, his balls slapping her clit. She cried out as she came, trying to hold Obi-wan inside her as long as she could. He too groaned at the feeling of her pussy clenching around his cock, giving a few more shallow thrusts before he spilled into (Y/N)‘s waiting heat.
“Fuck you milk my cock so well pretty girl~” Obi-wan whispered in her ear, slowly pulling out of her and kissing down her spine. His wife smiled a lazy smile and carefully rolled over onto her back, letting Obi-wan’s hand go.
The two smiled at each other and giggled, taking a few moments to catch their breath. Obi-wan leaned him head down to connect his forehead with that of his beloved, whispering sweet words to her as she came down from the clouds. (Y/N) smiled and closed her eyes, letting her breathing and her heart beat slow to match that of her husband’s.
“Maker I love morning sex~” Obi-wan said smoothly causing (Y/N) to laugh a loud, hearty laugh. Obi-wan laughed with her before laying back down next to his lovely wife, placing an arm over her stomach and pulling her closer.
She obliged and turned to lay on her side, tucking herself back into her husband’s embrace. They stayed like that for another half an hour before the gentle beeping sound of the women’s comm drew them from their dozing. Obi-wan whined as his wife reached over to grab the comm, giggling at her husbands childish behaviour.
“Relax Obi,” she said and began scratching his head lightly, feeling him smile against her neck as she answered the still beeping device.
“(L/N) here,” She said and listened as there was a giggle from the other side.
“Good morning love birds!” came Padme’s voice from the other end, a deep chuckle following it making Obi-wan and (Y/N) smile.
“Good morning you two,” (Y/N) replied with a smile, continuing to run her fingers through Obi-wan’s hair. Obi-wan purred and buried his face deeper into her neck, placing a few kisses here and there.
“Are you guys ready yet? You know we have brunch plans,” Padme said and (Y/N) giggled.
“Yes I remember. We were getting ready but someone here wanted more attention,” She said and Obi-wan lifted his head, pouting at his wife.
“EWW! Okay I did not need that image in my head!” You heard Anakin groan in the background making you and Padme laugh.
“Just because your mind went to the gutter doesn’t mean that’s what we were doing Anakin,” Obi-wan scolded his former padawan making you and Padme laugh even more.
“What else would you be doing?” Anakin asked sarcastically. (Y/N) took a moment to think before she laughed.
“Touche Skyguy,” (Y/N) said and Obiwan and Anakin both groaned in annoyed unison.
“Enough you three,” Padme scolded playfully.
“Padme’s right. We can’t miss our reservations,” (Y/N) said, giving Obi-wan a kiss on the cheek.
“Ugh. Fine but you owe me cuddles later,” Obi-wan said and rolled away from her. (Y/N) just smiled and shook we head as she tossed the covers off herself.
“We’ll be ready in about half an hour you two,” (Y/N) said. Padme replied with a hum of approval and wished them a goodbye before hanging up.
(Y/N) smiled and placed the comm back on her night stand, staring up at the ceiling with a small smile before finally going to get up. When she stood up and stretched she heard the sound of blankets rustling before arms wrapped around her waist again and Obi-wan head buried gently in her back. She laughed a little and turned slowly until Obi-wan’s head now rested comfortably on her stomach.
“It’s time to get ready sweetheart,” (Y/N) said and wrapped one arm around Obi-wan while her other hand made its way up to run her fingers through his hair. Obi-wan purrred, loving the attention from his wife. Said women giggled at her husband’s antics and leaned down so she could kiss his head.
“Do we have to?” Obi-wan pouted again and (Y/N) laughed, running her thumb over her husband’s lip to smooth out his pout.
“Yes my love, we do. We’ve had these plans for over a week. And besides, Anakin is like your brother and I know how much this would mean to him to see you,” She said and Obi-wan sighed, mumbling about how she was right and how he missed him too. She smiled and kissed his forehead again before gently detaching his arms from around her and slowly making her way to the adjacent fresher.
Obi-wan smiled, shook his head and chuckled to himself, grabbing his clean briefs off the floor and putting them on, a pair of his training pants and his training shirt.
Soft singing could be heard coming from the bathroom and Obi-wan smiled as he listened to his wife’s beautiful voice. Even after hearing it every morning and every night for the past 6 years, he never tired from hearing her sweet notes. Obi-wan stood slowly and made his way to the bathroom where he found his beloved fixing her (H/T) hair. She smiled when she saw him in the door way and turned to smile at him just as she finished with her hair.
The couple smiled at each other again before standing side by side and following their morning routine, brushing their teeth, washing their faces, and making themselves presentable.
When they finished their routine, they walked out of their sleeping quarters hand in hand and made there way to the large open lounge room. They moved to sit on the couch together, watching as speeders and small transport ships moved through the sky’s of Coruscant. They smiled at the sight, then again at each other, sharing a long and passionate kiss before there was a small knock on the door.
Obi-wan groaned and (Y/N) giggled as they pulled away before the door slid open to reveal Anakin and Padme.
“(Y/N)!” Padmé said and ran to hug her friend. (Y/N) smiled and stood up, meeting her half way as they embraced each other tightly. “Oh Padme, it’s so good to see you,” (Y/N) replied before releasing her.
The two women then struck up a conversation, discussing how they would be getting to their brunch reservations. That left Anakin and Obi-wan to discuss things themselves.
“Hello master, it’s good to see you again,” Anakin said and shook his mentors hand with a smile. Obi-wan returned his smile and handshake before pulling Anakin into a hug. “It’s good to see you too, my friend.”
It had been a few weeks since the couples had see one another, each having their own matters to attend too.
Since the death of Chancellor Palpatine after the Jedi council discovered he was the Sith Lord, the senate had erupted into chaos. Many other shady dealings came to light; the involvement of the banking clan, the trade federation, and other ‘neutral’ factions who had once dealt with the republic and separatists.
Though that was 3 years ago, and now things were run quite smoothly as the senate was given to the senators and the people of Coruscant. Senator Organa was elected to supreme Chancellor after Padme had turned down the offer in favour of living a life with Anakin. She remained as the senator for Naboo, but now she and Anakin had two beautiful children to look out for.
After the discovery of the sith and the end of the war, Master Yoda had gathered the council to discuss what would be done to improve the order. There were many ideas thrown around but the main idea, was about the need for attachments. It was a very hard discussion, especially since the rules had been written long ago, but finally there were changes made. Jedi were free to live normally, attachments and all, as long as those relations did not interfere with there peace keeping duties.
The clones were given rights, they were given the freedom to remain as soldiers or to retire and live like normal men. They were welcomed and thanked for their services and sacrifices to the republic. The accelerated ageing process had been reversed and now all clones were able to age normally. It was a peaceful time at last.
“How are the twins?” Obi-wan asked as he and Anakin sat down in the sofa. Anakin let out a hearty laugh and pulled up a hologram of the two 3 year-olds.
“Still as troublesome as ever, but they’re happy they get to spend the day with Auntie Ahsoka,” Anakin said, causing Obi-wan to smile.
“She is very good with them,” Obi-wan replied and Anakin nodded.
“She’s a natural. Sometimes I feel like they listen to her better than they listen to me,” Anakin laughed and Obi-wan chuckled, watching Anakin’s shoulders as they heaved with his laughter. His posture was relaxed and calm, the aura that surrounded him was one of carefree feeling and happiness. It felt good to see his former apprentice in such a state, knowing that the war had taken its toll on him. But he was happy and that’s what mattered.
The men continued to talk and catch up as Padme and (Y/N) spoke quietly with one another in the kitchen over a small cup of tea. They continued to glance over at Obi-wan and Anakin periodically, not wanting them to hear of the conversation taking place.
“How are you going to tell him?” Padme asked with quiet excitement, joyful that her friend, basically sister (in law) was expecting.
“I haven’t decided yet, but I want to make it special. It’s something he didn’t think he could ever have, and I want it to be memorable,” (Y/N) said, hiding her smile behind her tea cup.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t sensed anything yet to be very honest with you,” Padme explained and (Y/N) gave a very large nod, hiding it with a giggle as Obi-wan caught her eye. He smiled at her and she returned it before going back to her conversation with Padme.
“I’m surprised too, he’s very perceptive and there is usually nothing that gets past him,” (Y/N) smiled fondly and Padme laughed, knowing how true that was.
“You’re right about that, but I’m always here to help you. If you need anything, please just let me know,” Padme said and took hold of (Y/N)’s hand and gave it a sisterly squeeze. (Y/N) smiled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before Anakin and Obi-wan came over to them.
“Are we ready to go?” Obi-wan asked, earning a nod from (Y/N) and Padme. Anakin wrapped his arms around Padme’s shoulders and kisses her cheek, the Naboo senator smiling at the display of affection.
“We’re ready my dear,” (Y/N) said and kissed her husband on the cheek, taking his hand and walking to the door with Anakin and Padme not far behind.
~Time Skip~
Brunch had gone smoothly, the conversation flowing and laughter ringing through the diner. There was calm and serenity and not much of any care in the world. Once the couples had finished their breakfast, they had decided to walk around the market and browse the stand that were present. There were different stands from different planets, all with their owe unique merchandise.
Obi-wan and (Y/N) walked hand in hand together, just admiring what other planets had to offer before Obi-wan stopped infront a stall that had maybe things but his eyes were set on a little stuffed bear; soft brown fur, beady black eyes and a small blue hand print on the right paw. Around the neck was a silk blue scarf, the same colour blue as his lightsaber. Obi-wan was mesmerized by the stuffed toy, gently picking it up and running his thumb over the hand print and scarf. (Y/N) caught this from the corner of her eye and turned to watch as Obi-wan smiled sadly at the bear, giving it a short hug before putting it back.
This sparked an idea in (Y/N)’s mind on how to tell him the great news. Obi-wan looked towards (Y/N) and smiled as he caught her eyes, making his way over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“What did you find my dear?” She asked him and Obi-wan shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing love,” he said with a smile and let her go, walking to the next stall to see what else they had. (Y/N) cast another glance at the stuffed bear before she looked to the lady running the stall. An older togruta woman stood behind the stall, and her eyes watched as Obi-wan walked away before they met (Y/N)’s with a kind smile.
“Your husband?” The togruta asked, and (Y/N) nodded with a fond smile. The togruta held out her hand for (Y/N) and she shook it with a firm grip.
“Elira is my name. What’s yours deary?”
“(Y/N). It’s nice to meet you,”
“And you as well. Your husband is quite the looker if I do say so myself,” Elira said and (Y/N) chuckled.
“That he is,” she said with a fond smile and watched as Obi-wan continued to chat with another vendor a few tables down.
“You two make a very lovely couple, reminds me of when I was young and spry,” Elira said, a reminiscing look on her face. (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh, nodding.
“Thank you Elira, he makes me very happy and I hope to do the same for him soon,” (Y/N) said and Elira’s eyes lit up.
“Is that why he was looking at this?” She whispered, catching on to what (Y/N) was alluding too. (Y/N) shook her head, earning her a confused look from Elira.
“He doesn’t know yet, but I think I know how I’m going to tell him,” (Y/N) said and Elira nodded knowingly. “I’ll have a friend come pick up this little guy up for me. I don’t want him knowing just yet,” (Y/N) continued and Elira looked towards Obi-wan again. He had his back turned at the moment so she quickly took the teddy bear off the table and placed it in a box, hiding it under the table.
“It’s all yours deary,” Elira said in a hushed voice, smiling as (Y/N) mouthed a thank you before she heard her name being called. She turned to see Padme, Anakin and Obi-wan making there over, Padme holding a small bag and Anakin holding 4 more big ones. Obi-wan had his own very small bag, simple, with a flower on it.
“Did you find anything you wanted?” Obi-wan said and (Y/N) shook her head.
“Nothing yet my dear. But we can keep looking; there are many more stands to explore,” she said and waved to Elira as they left. (Y/N) then turned to look at Padme and Anakin, their purchases standing out a little bit. (Y/N) giggled and Padme smiled as Anakin didn’t look even the slightest bit embarrassed.
“What did you guys get?”
“Just some stuff for the kids and for Ahsoka as a thank you, all for very good prices,” Padme said and Anakin nodded.
“Yeah I’m just Padme’s bag holder,” Anakin said and Padme smacked his chest playfully.
“If I recall, three of those bags are yours Skywalker. Full of mechanical parts to ‘build Luke and Leia something’,” Padme said, using air quotes for the last part. Anakin huffed because he knew she was right but his intention were pure. As the two of them continued their playful banter, Obi-wan slipped his hand into (Y/N)’s as they walked along the market.
An hour or so later, (Y/N) slipped away from the group to go ‘use the washroom’. She walked towards a secluded area, where there was a washroom, but did not go in.
Instead, she made a holocall.
“Yes ma’am?” Cody answered as he picked up the call, his new military uniform on display with accents of orange as a tribute to his status as the commander of the 212th.
“Cody, I need a favour from you,” (Y/N) said and Cody’s eyes lit up as (Y/N) filled him in on all the details as well has her plan to tell Obi-wan. Cody was all for it and even asked Waxer and Boil to take time out of their day to help him.
~Time Skip~
It was a few hours after their market trip that (Y/N) and Obi-wan finally returned to their flat, a few bags in hand as well as some sweet treats for later. Obi-wan was the one to unlock the door, using his hand print and watching as the door slid opened.
What greeted the two of them inside was a shock to him, the room lit up with candles, leaving a comfortable glow around their apartment. There was food on the table, covered with steel lids and on the tea table, there was a box addressed to him with a note attached to it. Obi-wan looked at (Y/N) in confusion but (Y/N) just smiled and waltz into their home, placing her bag of goods down and walking over to the couch to take a seat behind the box.
Obi-wan followed suit, placing his items down and sitting next to (Y/N).
“What’s all this darling?” Obi-wan asked and (Y/N) just smiled at him, gesturing to the box in front of them. Obi-wan gave her another quizzical look before he pulled the box closer and opened it, a balloon being let out of it. Upon further inspection of the box, Obi-wan quietly gasped as he spotted the teddy bear from the market with a little note that read ‘Hi dada!’. Obi-wan was shocked, turning to see (Y/N) sporting a huge smile. He quickly put down the bear and instead, picked up the note that had accompanied the box and tore it open. Inside there was a message.
Hi Buir!
You don’t know me yet but soon you will and I know you’ll be the best most amazing dad a kid could ask for. I know I will have the most amazing mom to and the best Uncles and aunts to look out for me. I can’t wait to meet you!
Gar Ad’ika
The message was short and sweet but Obi-wan had tears in his eyes and they flickered between the Teddy bear, the note and his wife.
“Darling,” Obi-wan whispered as his eyes finally settled on (Y/N). She had tears in her eyes as well as she watched the pure joy on Obi-wan’s face.
“We’re going to have a baby?” He asked breathlessly and (Y/N) laughed and nodded, prompting Obi-wan to pull her into a bone crushing hug. He was in shock and ecstatic, continually whispering ‘I’m going to be a father’. (Y/N) hugged him back before he quickly pulled away and looked her in the eyes again.
“We’re having a baby?” He asked again and (Y/N) laughed with a nod.
“Yes my love. We’re having a baby,” she said and pulled out the ultra sound holo from the box, showing Obi-wan the outline of their baby. He gentle took the holos from her hand, running his fingers over them before he stood up and began jumping around the room like an excited kid.
“I’m going to be a father!!” He screamed happily, running back over and pulling (Y/N) off the couch and into his arms. He spun them around before her stopped and placed an affectionately large kiss to her lips. (Y/N) returned the kiss quickly, laughing at how happy her husband was.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he repeated again as the pair stopped spinning. Obi-wan rested his forehead against (Y/N)’s and took a deep breath. His excitement could be felt through the force, swirling around him like a warm hug.
“Yes,” (Y/N) whispered back and placed a kiss to Obi-wan’s lips. He returned it eagerly, pulling his wife closer to him. They pulled away a moment later with big smiles on each of their lips.
“How did you pull this off?” Obi-wan asked and (Y/N) giggled, pulling out her com and calling the person she asked for help.
“Congratulations General!” Cody, Waxer Boil and a few other members of the 212th yelled as the comm was answered. Obi-wan laughed as tears sprang to his eyes again.
“Thank you gentlemen. It means a lot,” he said and Waxer spoke up.
“You’re going to be an amazing father general. And that kid is going to have some amazing people to keep him safe,” he said and the rest of the boy nodded.
“I call teaching him how to fire a blaster!” Boil interjected and there was a chorus of laughs before Cody gave Boil a smack to the back of his head.
“Cool it soldier. You don’t know if this baby will be a boy or girl. And besides, they’ll be force sensitive so a blaster will be unnecessary,” Cody said and Obi-wan and (Y/N) shook their heads at the antics of the men.
“Thank you guys for helping me with this surprise. I think it went pretty well,” (Y/N) said and there was another series of cheers.
“Anytime ma’am,” Cody responded making (Y/N) smile.
“You know you don’t have to address me so formally Cody,” she said and Cody smiled.
“Of course…ma’am,” he said and (Y/N) shook her head. “Now! We will leave you both be to continue this celebration,” he finished and saluted his generals. The rest of the men he was with followed suit before the transmission ended, (Y/N) and Obi-wan being left alone once again. Obi-wan pulled (Y/N) into another hug, savouring this moment together.
“Thank you, my dear. This is the most amazing gift a man could ask for,” he whispered and (Y/N) gave him a squeeze.
“Of course. I love you Obi,”
“I love you too.”
—————
(Fully Edited Friday October 18th, 2024)
Comment if you’d like to see more Obi-wan content!
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haleswallows · 4 days ago
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I’ve Been the Forest and the Fire (and the Witness Watching It) DC x DP Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton) Teen Soulmates AU
Chapter 2!
Teaser:
"This is bullshit."
His soulmate turns around at the sound of his voice. Freezes. He looks tired and scrungly and of course. Because the universe hates Jason, so of course the asshole is also in the class he's taking for his Maths Gen-Ed credit.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason stands over him. "Aren't you supposed to be really good at math, or something? Why are you in an intro level class?"
His eyes are huge. "I don't test well and did bad on the placement exam."
"Great," Jason seethes. A twisting in his gut makes him feel like he's about to throw up. The soul bond demands proximity with his 'other half'. Chronically contrarian, Jason fights the instinct and the rising nausea before giving in. He slides into the desk next to his soulmate. The discomfort immediately eases. "Fucking fantastic."
There's attempts at a conversation. Jason ignores it in favor of getting himself settled. Pulls a copy of the list of accommodations he'll need that the Student Affairs Office helped him put together. Subtly scopes the room - for exits, and the best desk for when he brings Ace.
Ignores the put-out expression, the longing looks coming from his right.
Thankfully, the professor focuses on reviewing the syllabus only. And assigns a set of problems. What sort of jerk assigns homework on the first day?
Students scramble for the exit as soon as the dismissal comes. Asshole looks like he has something to say, but Jason just… he can't. Refuses. Before he gets subjected to what the fuck ever the asshole thinks he needs to say, Jason snags the professor.
He's vaguely aware of his soulmate lingering, and then eventually leaving. His gut clenches and his hands shake.
•○●○•
Jason stops in his tracks. The asshole looks at him. Jason glares back.
He's in Jason's literature course too.
"Whoa, 'scuse me," another student mumbles, side-stepping around Jason and his cane where he's standing stock-still in the doorway. Fuck.
OK. Fine. He has two classes with the piece of shit. Jason's dealt with worse.
He doesn't sit next to him, finding a seat in the second row and near the door. It's strategic. Less walking, a better view of the board. There'll be more room in the aisle for Ace when he starts bringing him. Jason stakes his claim - this'll be his desk for the semester.
The asshole can sit in the back like a delinquent. Jason doesn't care. He can't see him from here anyway.
The professor - mid-30s, bearded, Southern accent - makes them do an ice-breaker game. Jason wants to die.
Professor 'Just call me Justin' holds up a bag of Jolly Ranchers, directs them to take one and pass the bag down the line. Jason fiddles with the wrapper of his 'cherry' (it doesn't taste like cherry, he can't be convinced otherwise) while the bag makes its journey, and Justin makes an odd list on the board.
Grape for a favorite poem, Blue Raspberry for a pet's name, Lime for best vacation, Watermelon for 'what you wanted to be when you grew up', and Cherry for favorite food.
"Alright, everyone got a candy?" Justin claps the chalk dust from his hands. "Great, I'll start. I'm Justin," the class titters. Yes, they know. "Lime! So, I taught English in Japan for four years. My favorite vacation was to some traditional hot springs in Osaka. Next…. you!"
The random student pointed to blushes. "Oh! Uh, Karmine. Blue, my family's dog is named Cesar."
"Hi, Karmine! Pick your victim."
She shrinks a little, points randomly. It goes on like that - name, flavor, stupid random fact. It's dumb. There's cringing and some laughs at the stupid pet names. Then someone - Samir, Jason now knows - points to him.
As if he isn't a local celebrity that's had his photo in every newspaper multiple times since he was 12. And that tabloids theorize about his relationship with Bruce, or why Bruce is 'ashamed of him' as a cripple.
"Jason, chili dogs from Dave's stand." In between the pitying looks, a few nod knowingly. Locals, then. He ignores the smattering of whispers, no doubt picking up on theory crafting about him where Vicki Vale left off.
He taps the desk of the guy next to him. And away it goes, another name, flavor, and answer.
Jason's tapped out, vaguely listening but mostly only keeping track of who hasn't gone. It's background noise, all he wants is to talk to the professor and go the fuck home. When —.
"Danny. Uh, watermelon. I wanted to be an astronaut." The asshole smiles shyly, then ducks his head and rubs the back of his head.
Gross. Jason knows his name now. He frowns and the asshole — Danny — sees it, the smile dropping off his face.
Gross. He turns forward, Danny pointing to one of the few remaining people. It's hard to breathe and the wrapper of the Jolly Rancher is sticky when he unwraps it. Pops it in it his mouth.
Gross. Fake cherry.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
Text
Unorthodox 1
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.
Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼
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The rumble keeps you awake. A storm but not the type in the sky. You yawn and lean against the hummer door, jostling with the wheels as the roaring snores fill the compartment. Pierson drives and sends dark looks in the rear view, equally as disturbed by the burly man snorting and snuffing beside you. Neither of you dare disturb him. You’re not that dumb. 
The man is intimidating even in slumber. You pull on the seat belt and adjust your posture. The hours spent in the back seat have you stiff and restless. You envy Syverson. He can sleep through anything. You really believe that. If it wasn't for you, he'd oversleep the alarm in his phone every time. 
You yawn as you sense Pierson's attitude shift. You're almost there. He nods at you in the mirror and you sigh. You reach to grab the thermos that will be lukewarm at best by now. Still, you have to appease the bear. 
You reach to squeeze Sy's shoulder. He snorts and sucks in a deep breath. You try to shake him, an impossible task for most. You brush your fingers down his sleep and poke his muscle. 
"Syverson," you say tersely, "time to wake up." 
He slumps away from you and snores even louder. You roll your eyes. He's stubborn even when he's asleep. You pull your hand back and snap your knuckles against his arm. 
"Sy! Up." 
Still he is unaffected. You undo your seat belt and move closer. You uncap the thermos and reach around him, hovering it under his nose. He quiets and sniffs, grumbling. He moves stuntedly to wrap his hand around yours and slide the metal cup free. He sits up and purrs over the brim.  
"Coffee," he growls and gulps deep. 
"About there," Pierson states. 
Sy hums flatly and finishes the coffee in another swig. He hands back the empty cup and you shimmy back to other end of the seat. You cap the thermos and put it back in the plastic holder. 
"Remind me," he flicks two fingers at you. 
You stir around and bring out your tablet, sliding back the protective cover. You tap and bring up the contract, flicking through the maps as you go over the numbers. Units in the east, with another party coming from the north. Estimates are about sixty men total, fifteen vehicles, and ammunition to match. 
"They're tryin' to short us," Sy insists. "I can sell half as many for double." 
"Yes, you can," you agree, "but you also need to network." 
He chortles, "this isn't a boardroom, Izzie." 
"Don't I know it," you utter. You miss those days sometimes. Sand and sun make you long for climate control and complimentary coffee. "Money is money, I get it, but this is a big one. Could open a lot of doors. Make it so you can demand your worth." 
"Mm, so wise," he praises in his grizzly way, "kit." 
You fold up the tablet cover and once more search around the pack. You take out the toiletry pouch and hand it over. He finds the mini toothbrush and uses a gulp of the bottled water to wash up, spitting out the window. As he checks his watch, you reach over with a tissue to wipe a spot of paste from his beard. 
"Thanks, Iz." 
You go about cleaning up yourself. Worse than the cold caffeine and sleepless night, its the lack of hygiene that gets to you most. You use a face wipe on your skin and ball it up. The money is convincing and as much as you might long for the old ways, those office walls drove you mad. 
"I need a fuckin' drink," Sy grumbles as he rubs his eyes. 
"Tell me about it," you scoff. 
"Huh? You never do." 
"Not with you," you counter. "Don't drink on the clock." 
"Mm, so you do partake?" 
"None of your business." 
"Ah, come on, Iz, you can't dangle the bait in front of me like that." 
"You got your vest on?" You ask. 
"Always. Don't change the subject." 
"Not much else to say about it," you zip up the pack and sit back, watching through the windshield, a cage between the front and backseats.  
Sy straps on his fingerless gloves and furls and unfurls his fists. He's getting impatient. He always gets a bit uppity before a meeting. Especially with money on the line. You don't doubt him for a minute. He handles numbers as well as he does a gun. 
"Let's say I get them to tack on another fifty," he says, "will you drink to that?" 
You look at him from the corner of your eye, "depends." 
"Depends on what?" He challenges. 
"No Titos." 
He's quiet as he drags his boot tread on the floor. Even in such a large vehicle, he's cramped. 
"How'd you know?" 
"Someone has to keep your pantry stocked," you tut. 
He chuckles, "s'pose." 
You tidy yourself as best as you can and set your jaw. It took a lot to get used to the whole not smiling thing. You were never very keen on it but every job you had before required it. 
"You get this one, you get a lot more than money," you gird. "I know you will." 
"Ah, you trust me, Izzie." 
"Trust is a strong word. I know you'll handle it," you say as you stretch your legs, checking your own vest as you tighten the straps.  You sense him watching you. 
"Eh, I think I might let you take lead," he snorts, "you can be terrifying when ya want to." 
"Whatever," you shrug off the joke. Scary? You? 
What's scary is walking into a job interview with a brute sharpening a hunting knife as casually he might clean his nails. Scarier even is to say yes to the offer. Life does lead you to the most unexpected places. Still, you prefer it to the purgatory of predictability house in the white corporate walls of the past.  
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alienoresimagines · 3 months ago
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Dying for more crumbs of your "I was made to protect you" Bodyguard/Royalty AU if you're willing to share!
Nonnie!! 🥹🫶🏻 I swear this AU was on the backburner because I couldn't find what I wanted to do with it but your ask really kickstarted it so thank you 🥹❤️ As crumbs, here is my humble offering of John and Gale, twelve years after their first meeting, when they are safe and well in love ❤️ Yes, we're starting backwards but take this as a guarantee I won't kill off any of them 😂 As for the main fic, an outline is starting to be formed and I hope I'll manage to get a few chapters done before uni starts 🥰 But really, none of this would be here without you, so thank you 🥹💕
Also on AO3
Our love, for eternity | Buck x Bucky (Royalty/Bodyguard AU)
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John cannot remember the first time someone took his hand to press a kiss on his knuckles. Maybe when he was five, and his father could no longer protect him from the incessant requests of the Council to have him properly introduced to Court? He doesn’t remember much from it, too overwhelmed by all the noise and the crowd present, his only wish to hide himself behind his father’s legs but no longer allowed to, at least not in public. 
Almost thirty years later and he handles it much better, has learned to thrive on the attention and emotions of a crowd, even though he’s man enough to admit his father’s steady presence will always comfort him. Still, despite knowing it is part of protocol and that it is truly the least he can do, letting hundreds of nobles fall to their knees in front of him to bring his hand to their lips isn’t exactly on his pros list of being first Crown Prince and then King. Every day, he understands a bit better why his father chose to pass on the throne to him two years ago to live in a small cottage with Red and who knows how many horses the two men had managed to get their hands on since then. He’d gone to visit the two men just yesterday and they looked happier than ever, and John cannot deny that the idea of a small retreat in a house near the beach with Gale sounds like heaven. But alas, not for another twenty years at the least. 
He can do twenty years. With Gale at his side, he could do eternity as King. And really, when Gale is the one kissing his knuckles, the entire affair is much more tolerable, not to mention enjoyable. It never fails to have John’s entire being buzz with warmth spreading from his chest whenever Gale’s calloused palm gently close around his to bring his hand to his face until the now familiar prickle of beard tickles his skin, soothed by the press of soft lips. It’s a gesture Gale loves, always making sure he holds John’s gaze when his lips touch the tender skin, eyes warm and soft, corners of his mouth turned up even as it rests gently against John’s knuckles. They could be reading side by side in John’s private chambers, loosely holding hands in the space between their two armchairs, fire gently crackling in front of them, and Gale would bring up their joined hands until he could kiss John’s knuckles, only looking up from his book once John could feel his breath fanning over back of his hand. 
In all the years they’ve known each other and amongst all the different things they’ve done with and to each other, few things have felt as intimate as Gale kissing his hand, no matter how many times he’s done it. Each one feels like a vow, full of more emotions and words than anyone could ever see behind the gesture. Many people have brought John’s hand to their lips- or their forehead, an alternative he prefers with strangers, he has to admit- in a sign of loyalty. But Gale always does it in absolute devotion and love, so sincere and raw it never fails to tighten John’s throat with so many emotions he cannot name until he almost chokes on them.
To all assembled in the throne room today, it is a common gesture meant to show utmost servitude to a monarch. To John, it’s timeless proof there is no one more devoted to him and his heart than the man currently kneeling at his feet.
There’s a reverence in how Gale does it. The gentle grip in which he holds John’s right hand, letting the curve of his fingers rest against his index as he brings it closer to his face, head bowed, as if they are the only two present. 
John’s hands aren’t as soft or slender as other women’s in Court. They’re calloused and rough from sword training, knuckles scarred with little cuts here and there. Gale still takes his time swiping his thumb over his knuckles, as though softly uncovering the skin. John feels like the most precious thing in the world, and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling too wide. Then, to his surprise, Gale bows his head even lower until his forehead rests against John’s hand, windswept golden hair tickling the skin of his wrist. He lingers for a moment too long to be anything but on purpose, and John’s heart feels so full of love it might burst right out of his chest to leap into the waiting hands of the man kneeling in front of him. Despite the numerous scars on those war-hardened hands, none would be- and have been- as gentle and tender in holding his heart, of this John is sure.
It’s been two weeks since they’ve seen each other, the longest they’ve ever been apart since they first met, twelve years ago. Neither of them had been particularly willing, but a foreign delegation had specifically asked for Gale to be their escort back home and nothing could have justified John’s refusal; the kingdom is more at peace than it has been in years and Anglia’s relations with its neighbors always need to be strengthened.
To know that Gale had missed him as much John had missed him, enough that he’d chosen to be bolder than usual almost as though he couldn’t help himself? It sends bursts of warmth through John’s gut, golden light flowing through his veins until he feels warm all over, toes curling in his boots. Twelve years and the strength of his love for Gale still threatens to knock him off his feet.
Gale lifts his head, locking eyes with him, and though John needs to be careful of the emotions playing on his face, Gale has no such limits, his back to the rest of the room. Warm and fond and longing, cornflower eyes look up through blond lashes, the smile Gale doesn’t let curve his lips beside the faint upturn of the corners of his mouth dancing in the depths of blue. Then, finally, his lips kiss John’s knuckles in a lingering press, his beard a sweet tickle on his skin. John’s missed the touch so much that his knees feel weak upon feeling it again after two weeks of being starved for it, and a small sigh escapes his lips. Gale must hear it because he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly when he lowers John’s hand with a last caress of his thumb, and it’s all John can do not to pull him up and kiss him senseless, feel the softness of pump lips and the rough but pleasurable burn on his chin and cheeks.
The moment it is appropriate enough for them to go, John is crowding Gale in a secluded alcove until all he can taste are Gale’s kisses. 
“Your Grace,” and oh, how John had missed that deep voice, the way it rumbles through his body in a shiver that goes down his spine. Heat stirs low in his belly, the familiar flames of arousal only stoked by Gale’s intense gaze as John pulls him up.
John is taking him to bed in the following hour, midday and reports be damned. 
Despite this promise to himself, he can’t help the urge to feel Gale close to him, so with an arm around his shoulders, he brings him into a brief hug, clapping his hand on Gale’s shoulder a few times to mask the way he turns his head just so to bury his nose behind Gale’s ear, inhaling deeply. Nobody would blink at this display of affection, the Court well aware of John’s easygoing nature and affectionate ways with friends. 
Too soon, Gale starts pulling back and John reluctantly lets him, for a moment missing the boldness of earlier but recognizing the longing in Gale’s eyes, knowing it mirrors his. 
“You missed me?” Gale chuckles, shakes his head as he steps back to a more appropriate distance. His eyes don’t leave John’s face, as though carefully studying any change that might have happened in the two weeks they’d been apart.
“Like a stone in my shoe.” 
Even if John cannot pull him back into his own body, hold him there with an arm around his shoulders, this is something they can do. The easy banter and fond teasing they both know all the hidden messages of. It’s there, in the warm blue of Gale’s eyes and the smile that pulls at his lips. John is sure it shows in the way his eyes crinkle, how he can barely stop his arms from reaching out again. But nobody will blink at the lack of honorifics or at the fondness coloring Gale’s tone, too used to seeing them attached at the hip when they can be, or Gale always half a step behind John in times of duty. People will smile and write about the unbreakable bond between a King and his Shield, once again proving how Royal and Shield are closer than soulmates, never knowing how true those words are. 
My Clegan fics
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