#I could have beat the whole palace yesterday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mins-fins · 4 months

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AUDERE EST FACERE. — [Z.CL]

❝to dare is to do..❞

SYNOPSIS: where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

PAIRING: zhong chenle x male!reader

GENRE: royalty au, not really modern but not really medieval time period either, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, kinda humorous, prince!chenle x medic!reader, kinda forbidden relationship, ambiguous/open ending

WARNINGS: might not be accurate to medieval times, death, blood & gore, forced marriage, mentions of disease, unhealthy ways of grieving, a lot of mentions of violence

WORD COUNT: 22.7k

NOTES: woah woah woah!!! this whole fic broke a whole bunch of isa records…….. hiiii jj 😊 hi chenle stans 😊 hello nct male reader community 😊😊😊 i hope im serving the isanator nation well (consists of 2 ppl) ANYWAY this is one of the works i am genuinely most proud of because for one, it's my longest ever work, and for two, i'm just so happy with how it turned out!! this was originally meant to be like 16k words but then i got carried away and now this is here 🙁 i truly apologize for how long this is but PLEASEEE dont get bored i swear it gets good 😞😞 and i did write ambiguous ending but it does seem pretty straightforward so um… im sorry for that, this fic would've been MUCH MUCH LONGER than 22k words but i already beat my former wc record so i just cut a bunch of other unnecessary scenes 😶 alright thats enough of my yapping!! ily jj my bsf ever ty for listening to me ramble abt this endlessly in ur inbox 😊😊💗

CHENLE REMEMBERS IT LIKE IT WAS YESTERDAY. his little feet sneakily took him away from the huge meeting room full of intimidating adults talking about gibberish, and slowly, they lead him to a much more enjoyable place. at the time, seven year old chenle couldn't figure out why his parents needed such a big meeting room, or why all of these important people came to the castle every few months, to him, those strangers were nothing but tryhards, greedy men and women who were never pleased no matter how much they were offered.

seven year old chenle could never truly figure out why his parents insisted on having him sit around with these other important adults, listening to them talk about the economy, kingdom relations, marriage, all this stuff that isn't interesting to seven year old boys.

the young prince found his feet leading him to a place of familiar comfort, the palace's own rose garden. he could never truly explain why the air surrounding the abundance of roses ever became of comfort to him, because roses are anything but comfortable to hold, but whenever he felt like father and mothers fights were getting too aggressive, he could just come here and everything would be okay.

the gardener, a woman by the name of mrs. qian, was always sweet to chenle, much sweeter than his father usually was. her son, qian kun, is basically chenle's older brother, the older boy often comes around whenever his mothers in work, and he tells chenle stories of what goes on at the village schools, the newest gossip and adventures he's gone on with his friends.

chenle often finds himself interested in the life of a commoner, they're all just so intriguing.. he can't believe the stories most of the time, but he is homeschooled, and has been holed up in this castle for as long as he can remember, so how he can prove or debunk any of these things? he just thinks that non-royals are some of the most entertaining people he knows, they're all so hilarious.

as soon as the seven year old chenle stepped into the rose garden, a feeling of relief seeps into his body. he takes in a deep breath, and finally allowed for his shoulders to slump, much too tired of having to keep his back straight all this time.

he lets himself relax into the atmosphere, finally away from the suffocated room full of adults seemingly speaking a language he could not understand. if that's what kings and queens have to do, chenle thinks he'd rather not take the throne.

the seven year old prince allowed for his eyes to scan the garden, it's empty. well that makes sense, mrs. qian isn't in today and neither is her son, they went on a holiday. he sighs to himself, he misses kun's company, but alas, no one is around.

chenle makes his way around to a specific rose bush, it has the most roses out of the bunch. seven year old chenle used to think the rose bushes were magic, the roses always grew so quickly, one day there'd be none and the next there'd be hundreds, it was purely shocking to the young prince.

chenle, as always, began tracing the shape of the roses with his finger. he finds them pretty, as he does all flowers. it might sound like he's being basic, but roses are probably his favorite of the bunch. they're just so beautiful, and most importantly— they're sharp.

but the seven year old chenle is startled out of his rose admiring due to a shout.

"hey! don't touch those!"

the young prince furrowed his eyebrows at the words, what's wrong with touching the roses? it's not like there are garden rules or anything. when chenle turned to the source of the shout, that's when he sees the person.

you, it was you. adorable seven year old you who ran up to him as quickly as you could, you stopped as soon as you made it his way, panting like you had just run a marathon. "don't touch the roses".

the young chenle blinked, puzzled. "why can't i touch them? i'm the prince you can't tell me what to do—"

"they're sharp! you're gonna hurt yourself see?" you pointed at chenle's hand, and he looked down, eyes widening as he came across the sight. his finger was bleeding, oh that's bad. "roses have thorns, you have to be careful".

chenle had no idea who you were then, but all he knew was that you were worried. your eyes were watering, as if you were going to burst into tears at any moment, and you took a deep breath as you slowly began freaking out over the small cut on the prince's index finger. "oh uh— i didn't even notice".

"it's okay really, god i have a bandaid don't i? hold on.." you mumbled, worried as ever as you began rummaging through your pockets, trying to find a bandaid to patch up the prince with.

"it's fine it's just a small cut i.." chenle paused in between his words, clearing his throat. "who are you?"

right, you were still a stranger, chenle had no idea who you were then, for all he could know, you had broken into the palace or something. you finally stopped looking through your pocket, your face went a bright red as you faced the prince again. "um my name is y/n, i'm the—"

"y/n honey? where did you run off to?"

now chenle recognized that voice, that was the voice of the palace's sweet medic. mrs. l/n had a voice that was like honey, she was easily one of chenle's favorite staff members, not only because she would always be there to wipe his tears when he scraped his knee, but she always offered him delicious candy. "oh! there you are!"

"good afternoon mrs. l/n" chenle politely greeted, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the sight of your mother, though that look of worry was still prominent in your eyes.

"chenle, how are you doing?" she reached over to ruffle the young prince's hair, which he accepted happily, giggling at the gesture. "i'm doing good, ma'am".

"he has a cut on his finger" you muttered to her, and a small 'ah' leaves her lips as she finally realized what was going on. "i wanted to help him but i didn't have any bandaids" you seemed disappointed in yourself, as your gaze immediately lowered to the floor.

"oh sweetie, it's okay" your mother shook your shoulder, reassuring you. "just remember to call me before running off".

"i'll remember, sorry".

the young prince blinked at the sight before him, though he continued to smile at the sight of your mother. "sorry for yelling at you, your highness" you muttered in your low voice, and all chenle did was shake his head, waving you off.

"it's alright you were just trying to help" chenle replied, he finds seven year old you to be the epitome of adorable, just the cutest person in the world.

"let's get you that bandaid yeah?"

chenle nodded, you nodded, and the two of you proceeded to follow your mother out of the garden and to her office.

when chenle thinks back to this moment, the moment he first met you, he likes to compare it to an explosive, just waiting to be lit, just waiting to be set off and destroy everything. when he thinks back to the first moment he met you, chenle can't help but reminisce about it.

after your mother helped him with his cut, the two of you.. talked. you talked about things all seven year old boys talk about, and it was one of the highlights of chenle's day, though he kept trying to make you drop the formalities and call him by his first name, you vehemently disagreed.

the two of you became friends (and just chenle calling the two of you "friends" was enough to almost send seven year old you into cardiac arrest), a royal and a commoner, but chenle never saw it that way, chenle has never seen it that way. a friend is a friend, regardless of status or their economic situation. yes chenle is at a great advantage, being the prince of the kingdom you lived in, but he never held it over you, he isn't like that.

you were— are a special friend to chenle. sometimes, it feels like the two of you have known each other your whole lives. you mean much more to him than he actually lets slip, but he'll never let that be known, even under kun's watchful eye and jisung's insistence on knowing if you two really are just "friends".

chenle spends a lot of time thinking about the day you two first met, it's like a looping episode of a show in his head.

"chenle? did you even hear me?"

no response.

a grunt of frustration is sounded in the room, but the prince doesn't react, much too busy zoned out as a specific memory replays in his head for the seventh time that hour.

"chenle! pay attention!"

the slam of a hand against the table, paired with the loud shout is enough to snap the now twenty one year old crown prince out of his little dazed memory recalling session. chenle startles, but he quickly lets his face relax, sighing as he rejoins the conversation he'd previously zoned out on. "what?"

chenle's mother pinches the bridge of her nose, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "marriage, chenle, that's what were talking about".

oh god, chenle resists the urge to groan. he isn't exactly on board with this whole marriage thing, but then again, he has no other choice, his father is gone and he's next in line for the throne, this is how it goes for each royal family, he should just suck it up and deal with it head on. "yeah yeah, sorry, i didn't sleep much last night".

it's not exactly a lie, these days usually have chenle plagued with some sort of sleeplessness, but that isn't the main reason he was zoned out, obviously. "alright.. anyway, i talked with the zhu's, we agreed that you and their daughter, yinuo, are to marry".

chenle recognizes the family name, unfortunately, he doesn't exactly recognize their daughter. "you're marrying me off to a stranger? what about the girls i actually know, suyin? jia? mingxia? they're actually my friends, i'd be much more comfortable with them than a princess i've never met".

"marriage doesn't work like that, chenle" the words are enough to make chenle grit his teeth, he bites his tongue, though. "all you have to do is merely get along with her enough that it looks like you're in love at the wedding, rule the kingdom, and have children".

chenle raises an eyebrow, rocking back and forth in his chair. "that sounds a tad bit dystopian, mother".

the older woman does nothing but narrow her eyes at chenle, a look he's become used to receiving from her at this point. "it's just how everything goes, le, i don't know what to tell you".

chenle bites his inner cheek, looking everywhere else in the room. he always knew marriage was a custom, if not out of true love, it would be out of convenience. chenle had been given so much time to go find a woman to fall in love with, but he didn't find it that easy, maybe he just has too many requirements when it comes to love. he doesn't exactly support the whole thing about creating new heirs, but he was born into this family for this reason, what is the point of being a king if not sacrificing his freedom for the happiness of others?

chenle has always known that he wouldn't exactly enjoy this part of his life, and his father just had to go early, he is very much upset, but he doesn't disclose those feelings to anyone. after his long minutes of silence, chenle stands up from the table, again facing his mother. "yes yes i get it, mother" he mutters, making his way over to his mother and pressing a kiss to her cheek, realizing that she was trembling in anxiousness. "don't worry about me, i'll be fine".

but would he really? chenle can't exactly determine that.

"HOW DID YOUR LITTLE MARRIAGE CONVERSATION GO?" QIAN KUN cannot contain his interest, immediately finding chenle and inquiring about his upcoming marriage. chenle can always go to kun to talk about things troubling his mind, the older is a person of solace for him, a comfort in this big castle that seems to be swallowing him whole. chenle is glad he has kun, even with how much he does tease him, he's truly grateful for the older. "whose the lucky lady?" the words are enough to get a groan out of chenle, who shoved his nose into his book.

"zhu yinuo".

kun's eyes widen, clearly he recognizes that name. "of azerene?"

chenle clicks his tongue, not sparing the older a glance. "yes, that one".

the older male hums, merely glancing at the crown prince. "why do you sound so uninterested? marriage should be a fun topic for you".

his teasing tone doesn't breeze past chenle, but the younger doesn't comment on it, focusing on the topic of the novel in his hands. "not when it's with a women i don't know, i'm just being placed into a union with a stranger, a stranger who i'm then going to have make babies with so that the treasurable zhong family lives on for generations and generations".

"well isn't that the whole point of royal families, though?" kun asks absentmindedly, it seems he meant to say that in his head, seeing as how he slaps a hand over his mouth immediately after the question escapes his lips, but chenle doesn't mind, getting offended over such a question is the last of his worries. "..sorry".

"it's alright" chenle responds, his voice a low echo in the expanse of a room. "it's how most things go anyway, i should know better than to question it".

"i just don't think it's fair" chenle only gives a mere hum, though he notices kun's tone of concern. "yeah you're supposed to create heirs at the end of the day, but not even with someone you love?"

"you ask too many questions".

kun scoffs, turning to chenle with a look of betrayal in his eyes. "i'm just saying what your thinking, chenle, i worry about you".

chenle, who sighs silently, finally closes his book and gives the older an indistinguishable look. "you don't have to worry about me, i'll be fine, i always am".

a lie, one as clear as day too. chenle doesn't exactly know how to explain what he feels, sometimes it feels like everything is bubbling up slowly, closing in on him and suffocating him to death. he assumes it's normal to feel like this, especially with people who don't talk about how they feel, but chenle doesn't know how to bring it up to people without making everything weird.

it's all just complicated.

chenle finally stands up, running a hand through his hair and folding the page of his book as to not lose his page. he makes his way over to kun, whose mindlessly folding his own clothes as he admires the butterfly tank before him.

the butterflies were an installment chenle begged for his father to get for him after he read a book on metamorphosis once, it was a gift for his twelfth birthday, though he wanted a room to be a whole conservatory for him, his father said that would be "unnecessary" (and as an adult, chenle is inclined to agree with that statement). he finds the winged beings to be beautiful, a kind of striking that only specific animals can replicate.

yes, chenle is a huge fan of butterflies, his love for them runs deep. he lightly taps the glass encasing the creatures with his nail, gaze laser focused on the flying insects and their bright colored wings.

"you say that all the time, but i can never truly tell if you are" kun finally responds after letting his answer wither in the silence of the room, his eyes wander over to chenle, who does nothing but admire the trapped butterflies before him.

the words get a small smile out of chenle, but he's not sure why, though they do make him smile. "i am fine, there's no need to look in further".

"you know me, i'm always going to look further".

chenle allows for himself to chuckle at the response. he's right about that.

he stares at the butterflies encased in the glass box, practically trapped against their own will. his mind wanders, the butterflies remind him of something very familiar.

but he pretends to have no idea what it is.

CHENLE OFTEN FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS THESE DAYS. after the first two hours of insomnia took over, the crown prince decided to entertain himself by reading that book he's left off at earlier that day, but by the time he looked at the clock again, two more hours had passed, and he had finished the book which he once thought would enthrall him until his body gave into it's exhaustion. he lets his arm fall, placing the copy of strange case of dr. jekyll and mr. hyde onto his desk. he's still not tired, for some unknown reason.

maybe another book will do the trick, chenle's mind tells him, and he agrees with that statement enough that he swings out of his bed and his feet grace the cold floor. it's cold, it's always cold at night, but chenle thinks it's always extra cold at night on purpose.

the crown prince tries his best to shake off the freezing temperature of the room, slipping on a fuzzy sweater and grabbing the lamp from his desk. if sleep isn't going to come him, he could at least spend some of the night in the library, it'll be a good way to pass time.

the library is a nice place of comfort, chenle has always been able to relax his mind the most when he's reading. reading is one of the easiest hobbies to have, because you're not tiring yourself out, but your also doing something fun (but chenle has learned that some people don't really describe reading as their idea of 'fun').

when chenle was younger, reading was really all he did. he was homeschooled, so the most lessons he got were three a day, mother and father never cared about what he had to tell them, dismissing his words as just idiotic child talk. no one ever gave him the time of day if they weren't forced to, so chenle quickly found comfort in the many books which littered the library.

by the time chenle was fourteen, he had already read most of the books in the library, and that includes the unnecessarily huge dictionary. he could almost always be found in the library if not in his room or the rose garden, immersing himself in another world of fiction or nonfiction.

the library is basically his second home, he's there all the time, engrossed in the literature which is all he can see.

the constant creaking of the old structure is all chenle can hear as he makes his way over to the library. at one in the morning, the palace is truly creepy, like one of those haunted buildings full of spirits that suddenly scare you in the night.

now, chenle isn't one to believe in the supernatural, but some of these nightly events in the castle truly can't be explained away. sometimes, he almost gives in to believing all of stories about paranormal activity happening in the castle, something about an old king going haywire and murdering his whole entire family.

father and mother would tell him the stories to scare him out of staying up late, saying that old king chen was gonna come out of the walls late at night and scare him if he ever tried to roam the palace halls past his bedtimes.

but chenle's an adult now, much too grown to be believing in some make believe ghost stories.

back to his mission of getting to the library with nothing but his tiny lamp, chenle sighs in the darkness of the empty halls, his sigh seemingly echoing in the silence and bouncing off the walls. he pauses to observe his barely lit surroundings, and he feels his stomach drop when he hears the sound of faint footsteps across the hall.

who else could be awake at this time?

"hello?"

chenle pauses again as he listens to the greeting. he recognizes that voice, it's you, chenle thinks he could recognize your voice from miles away. "y/n?" he calls out, he doesn't mean to do that, he just really wanted to say your name, is that such a crime? he doesn't think it is.

when you finally come into his like of vision, chenle lets out a sigh of relief, the pit in his stomach will hopefully go away now. for some reason, he feels much more safe with you here. "oh god you scared me ch— your highness".

ah, it's still the same, despite your long friendship, you still don't usually address chenle by his name. you always say it's because you have to "respect his title", but chenle doesn't really like it. he likes it more when you call him by his first name, even if it is disrespectful for a commoner to do such a thing.

chenle never cares when it's with you.

"you scared me" chenle emphasizes, taking in a deep breath. "my apologies".

"it's fine, uh.. why are you awake exactly?" you ask, though chenle wanted to ask you that, it seems you beat him to it. how funny. "if you don't mind me asking of course".

of course, all you ever really do is look after people, you take after your mother, it's evident to chenle that being a medic was your calling. "oh i can't sleep, i'm heading to the library to get a book that'll hopefully tire me".

you chuckle at the words, your laughter is pretty, chenle notes. "of course, you're always in that library, seems you spend most of your time reading" chenle laughs at your tone of voice, your teasing him, you talk like how your mother used to talk about him when you were children.

"reading is..fun".

those words seem to confuse you, and you blink, lightly tilting your head to the side. "i have never heard someone describe reading as fun, but i guess it makes sense for you".

chenle wants to ask about the meaning of those words, because they seem to have so many layers, but you begin again before he can even try to ask. "i heard about your new marriage" there's a certain distaste in your voice chenle can't exactly pinpoint. "congratulations".

chenle allows for himself to frown, his stomach curling in an uncomfortable way at just the thought of his new marriage. he doesn't want to talk about it, because it's just going to make him upset. "oh yeah it's quiet.. exciting news".

you pick up on his tone of disgust, his gritted teeth, and the way his eyes quickly cast around the room, but you stay silent. "anyway, i should be heading to the library, find a nice book, have any recommendations?"

you blink at the sudden question, scouring your mind for books you think the crown prince might be charmed by. "frenchman's creek by daphne du maurier".

chenle raises an eyebrow. "that's in the library?"

"yeah i uh— i read it a couple weeks ago, it was amazing" you mutter, trying to keep eye contact with the prince who was clearly trying to not look you in the eye. "i think you'll like it, i mean— i hope you do".

chenle hums, noting down your recommendation in his mind. "i'll make sure to read it then, thank you y/n, good night".

your eyes widen as you realize that it is indeed the middle of the night, and your conversation has to end eventually. "right right, it's no problem, good night your highness".

chenle frowns again at the sound of his title escaping your lips, but he doesn't say anything, just gives you a small smile and walks past you and towards the library.

he doesn't see you watch him walk away, he's much too busy thinking about how much he wants you to say his name.

"ARE YOU ALRIGHT? YOU LOOK TIRED" THE WORRYING tone in his fiancée's voice doesn't breeze past chenle, but he pays it no mind, ignoring the question. yinuo blinks, clearly expecting the silence, chenle's mother did say he's prone to giving people the "cold shoulder". she sighs, reaching out to touch his shoulder but immediately pulling back, he probably wouldn't like that. "chenle.."

"i'm fine" chenle replies faster than he intends, he brushes off any dust that might be on his shoulder and rubs his right eye. "i just lost a few hours of sleep that's all" he states rather unconvincingly, but yinuo doesn't comment more, just sighs again.

chenle holds out his arm, which the princess quickly links with hers, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. "let's just get this over with.." he shakes his head, feeling a hand of support from his future wife run up and down his back. "the faster we get through with this the faster we both get out of here".

yinuo is happy to know chenle doesn't despise her, he's just not comfortable with her, and chenle, he really is trying his best, he might be coming off as rude, but he just isn't on board with this whole thing. "they're all so extra, making us do this.."

"right, the least they could do is make us enter at different times but no, we have to do this walk in together like were walking down the aisle".

chenle glances down at their linked arms, letting a sigh escape his lips as the two of them finally exit the room they had been put into together. starting their way off to the meeting room down the hall, chenle allows for his mind to wander, he can't be focused on his fiancée or upcoming marriage, he's much too focused on other things.

you, namely.

the crown prince can't focus on what's going on when the only thing prominent in his mind is you. yeah your exchange last night was a short one, but it was also a memorable one. after weeks of going back and forth with things that just didn't make sense, and a mind that was in a frenzy, just talking to you in the middle of the night was enough to relax chenle.

you two haven't been able to talk in the past few weeks.. evidently, chenle is a prince to be king who has to focus on ruling a kingdom and your a medic who has to focus on taking care of others. you two have no time to be friends now that you're adults, it doesn't help that chenle now has all this added pressure on him, and you clearly feel like he's become a stranger.

chenle guesses the.. power imbalance is what's driving this. he's apart of the royal family, a crown prince, set to take the crown and become king, your a commoner, someone who lives just above the poverty line, the only reason you're able to stay afloat is because you took up your mothers position as the palace's medic, but even then, you can almost barely take care of her.

chenle hates thinking about it, because the two of you used to be so close, an unbreakable pair, two boys who couldn't be separated even with the differences between you two. your ranks in society never bothered you, never disturbed your friendship, never disturbed you as a pair, it never mattered. he often finds himself reminiscing on those times, the times where he could see you without his mind listing everything he had to do after that.

"chenle? are you listening?"

chenle blinks out of his daze, arm still linked with yinuo's as he gazes at his future father in law. he pretends to not see the look of worry the woman on his arm sends him, clearing his throat. "yeah, my apologies".

"uh huh, my regards to you, i know the sudden.. passing of the king was hard on you, and we hope your grieving well".

so your throwing your daughter at me, how great. chenle laughs in his mind, tongue poking through his inner cheek, he already knew he wasn't going to like where this was going. "now, about the marriage—"

chenle tunes him out easily, letting out a silent sigh which his mother hears, sending him a glare from across the room as the breath escapes his lips. he doesn't pay any mind to the look from his mother, though he knows she's quickly getting annoyed with how he isn't paying attention.

the discussion is exactly how chenle thought it'd be, the parents discuss everything and just assume their children agree from the get go, they don't even bother asking them their thoughts, or even how they felt, they just threw them into this like they were some baby making machines.

chenle guesses it's just how the cycle goes, his parents had to go through this, and so did their parents before them, and their parents before them, and so on. this is how things work, chenle can't run away from his fate, even with how much he opposes this arrangement.

"and for children.." just the mention of children is enough to make both chenle and yinuo tense, but they both play it off as the cold of the room making them flinch. "you can decide how many you want, but more than one would be nice, and especially a son would be nice".

of course, chenle sings in his head. he wonders how much they'll have to drill that into their heads, some stupid importance men have or something. he glances at his fiancée, whose trembling in her place beside him. he places a gentle hand on her back. "it's alright, calm down" he whispers enough so that she can hear it over the chatter of her father and mother.

"this is not fun".

"yeah, tell me about it" the crown prince grits his teeth, his comment eliciting a small laugh out of the woman beside him. he has to admit, he does enjoy her company.

"ah, i see you two are getting along!"

upon hearing the remark, the two pause, an awkward silence spreading between them. they exchange a small glance before chenle clears his throat, speaking up. "yeah um.. this was a nice meeting, we can continue chatting about the marriage another time, we thank you for coming, the guards will escort you out".

though chenle smiles at his future in laws, he feels nothing but nauseous the whole time.

"WHERE ARE YOU HEADING, YOUR HIGHNESS?" THE QUESTION from kun isn't enough to make chenle stop in his tracks, and he continues his way down the hall. kun blinks as the younger ignores him, furrowing his eyebrows. he then lets out a sigh, letting his hands drop as his eyes stay pointed at the crown prince. "chenle? where are you going?" chenle still doesn't stop, but he seems to acknowledge the older this time.

"to the rose garden" he responds quickly, only getting another eyebrow furrow from the older. he finally stops, turning towards the other with a look that kun cannot exactly pinpoint at the current moment. "if you need me, i'll be there".

"is something wrong?"

chenle takes in a breath, gritting his teeth. curse qian kun for being so caring, curse him for always knowing when something's up. he's quick to shake his head, mustering the fakest of fake smiles. "nothing's wrong! i just need fresh air!"

kun blinks, totally not buying that horrible lie, but he doesn't say anything about it, just mutters a small "okay" and lets chenle be on his way. chenle didn't mean to lie to kun, he just doesn't know how to explain his feelings at the current moment.

so, he gives the older a small smile, turning on his heel and making a beeline towards the titular rose garden, the one that's given him so much comfort over these past few years. he doesn't know why just the presence of everyone in that room was enough to make him want to throw up, but his anxieties wouldn't settle, he can't bear to stay inside this castle much longer.

chenle has no idea why the feeling of suffocation is constantly overtaking him these days, but the walls are slowly pushing in on him, leaving him breathless and nothing more than a weak human vessel.

when chenle does finally step outside, met by a plethora of roses and the smell of pollen in the air, the pit in his stomach doesn't settle. instead of letting out a sigh of relief, he pauses in his tracks, allowing for his eyes to roam the area he'd grown to love as a child.

chenle sighs, not of relief, but sighs with another indescribable feeling he can't explain, walking up to a display of white roses. he knows they're sharp, your old warnings flash in his head as he stares at the pretty flowers before him, tracing them with his fingers as he's always done when in the rose garden.

"don't hurt yourself again, your highness".

it's when chenle hears you that he immediately jumps, but then he relaxes, slowly. what were the odds of this happening again? you seem to read his mind, because you chuckle at the expression which graces his features. chenle raises an eyebrow, a humored smile coming to his face. "you sure you actually have bandaids this time?"

the reference makes you snicker, looking down at the floor as you turn away from your childhood friend. you rummage through your pocket, finally pulling out a bandaid, one which wasn't present when you were seven and yelling for chenle to not touch the roses. "there you go, now you won't cut your finger".

for once today, chenle suddenly feels relaxed, it's always with you, isn't it? his mind notes that down, he'll remember it for later. he takes the bandaid from you, a smile coming to his face as the nostalgia settles on him. "thank you, you're always looking after everyone, you sure know how to do your job".

the words make you pause, but you don't look at chenle as you think of a response, instead turning to the white roses displayed in front of you. you lightly poke them, letting out a small hum of affirmation. "well, what kind of medic would i be if i didn't look out for others? i'd be an idiot to ever let our highness get hurt".

chenle's lips turn up, and he laughs in just the slightest, but he isn't sure why he laughs. there's just something about you that makes chenle feel at ease, you calm his worries without even having to do anything, it's not like he's even telling you about these worries either, but the anxiety he once felt seems to be nothing now.

spending time with you calms chenle, he wants to preserve as much of this time as possible.

"i started reading your recommendation" chenle suddenly blurts out, wanting to continue a conversation with you. he doesn't know how limited your time will be. "frenchman's creek.. i like it so far, it's an interesting choice, though".

you raise an eyebrow. "why's that?"

"i didn't peg you for an enjoyer of pirate romances" chenle shrugs, and he quickly looks away, not wanting to stare at you for too long, because he doesn't think he'd be able to look away.

"well i don't like limiting my interests to one genre, you'd know about that".

chenle blinks, the words striking him in a way only the words you say can. how do you always manage to do that? it's not really the words, it's just how you say them, even if you don't make your intentions clear, chenle always knows what you mean. "it always manages to surprise me, i'm not sure what's gonna happen next".

you click your tongue, a small smile coming to your face. "just so you know, it doesn't have a happy ending".

chenle gasps, overdramatizing the volume of his voice. "you're giving me spoilers? in the rose garden?" his words make you snicker, and you pick a white rose from the bush, unfazed by the thorns which slowly sink into your fingers.

"i didn't spoil anything specific" you finally turn back to chenle, twirling the rose between your fingers. "just told how it was gonna end up.." you mutter, stepping closer to chenle unconsciously. you look at up, suddenly anxious as ever. "may i?" you ask, motioning towards the rose with your eyes.

chenle blinks, his mind going blank for a few seconds. what do you want to do exactly? he gazes at your hands fidgeting on the stem of the flower, and the pieces slowly put themselves together in his brain. are you going to..? "i— yes, sure.."

you raise an eyebrow, not really trusting the seemingly hesitant consent chenle had given, but he clears his throat, reiterating it for you; "yes, you can".

upon hearing the answer, you step closer once again, placing the rose into his hair, your careful to not hurt chenle, and especially careful because you don't want the stem to get tangled in chenle's hair. "i.. i thought it'd look nice on you, and it does, you look— you look great".

chenle blinks, a sudden red hue coloring his cheeks. it's such a basic compliment, one he's been given many times by other people, but it feels different coming from you.

it's always different when it's with you.

chenle clears his throat, unable to prevent a smile from crossing his face. you don't look at him anymore, looking away to prevent yourself from burning up, but you allow for a smile to come to your face as you think about the action you just performed.

you have no idea why you're so giddy about this.

"oh um.." chenle pauses, laughing awkwardly. "thank you, that's very sweet".

"oh it's no problem i just— i uh, it compliments your hair".

chenle hums, looking down at the floor. he hopes you don't see his face burning, and you hope he doesn't see your face burning, it's such a hilarious thing, but you both are much too flustered to find your current circumstances amusing. "you have an eye for those things too?"

"well i have an eye for many things".

i can see that, chenle doesn't say that, though, just smiles at you. you only give him a mere glance, and a small smile yourself. "it was nice seeing you, ch— your highness" you notice how your correction makes chenle frown, but you continue. "i'll be off now, have a good day".

chenle only frowns again when he realizes your time together is over, he wants to continue the conversation, wants to try to use an excuse, wants to use his power to order you to stay, but he doesn't give into the desires he wants so badly, just nods. "oh uh, don't let me keep you here".

you chuckle. "i wouldn't really mind if you did".

the words have an unspoken affect on chenle, an affect that he can't exactly explain, but he can feel. he can feel it in the way his ears heat up and his stomach flips. "alright then, bye y/n".

"bye".

and as chenle watches you leave, the feeling of anxiety he'd entered the garden with seemed to wither away, dissolving away like it was nothing.

he thinks about your 'bye' for hours, unable to get the sound of your voice out of his bed.

"HOW HAVE YOU BEEN THESE DAYS?" CHENLE doesn't answer immediately, as always these days. he skims the row of books before him, fidgeting with the one in his hands. he's not ignoring his friend, he's just focused on other things. "fine" he responds, grunting as he lightly struggles to pull the book from the shelf, but he doesn't ask for help. he doesn't need help. "what's with that look?"

park jisung blinks at his longtime friend, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him. "you don't look fine".

chenle scoffs, suddenly feeling super defensive. he doesn't look at jisung anymore, the other is going to begin to annoy him if he keeps staring at him. "what do you know about looking fine?"

he hears jisung's sigh of defeat. "well i'm just concerned for you, we haven't talked in a while, you've been so busy preparing for your coronation and.. marriage".

chenle resists the urge to roll his eyes. "my coronation isn't for another three months, preparations have all been lackluster".

"and the marriage?"

chenle snaps his head towards jisung, giving him an indescribable look. jisung is quick to shut his mouth, not wanting to face chenle's terrifying wrath. the older prince glares dangerously at the younger, who chuckles awkwardly and scratches his hand. he doesn't have to say anything, but jisung knows he should probably change the subject.

"uh.. um, are you still friends with that medic kid?"

now that is a question chenle wasn't expecting. a question about you? when he snaps his head over at jisung for the second time, the younger almost freezes, noticing the pointed look in his eyes. "what?"

"y/n, the medic kid!" jisung reiterates, clearly thinking the issue is that chenle didn't hear him the first time. "his mom used to work here, right? is he still around?"

chenle narrows his eyes, puzzled at where jisung is trying to go with this.. question. he'd been dealt with a fair amount of teasing from his friend because of how much closer the two of you seemed, jisung often questioned how much of a "friend" you really were to chenle, but the older would always combat it with a glare and snappy insult as a response.

"yes he's still around.. he took over mrs. l/n's position".

jisung blinks dumbly. "oh? what happened to her?"

just the question is enough to put a sour taste in chenle's mouth. "she just couldn't go on any longer one day, she retired a few years ago and he took over her position".

"you don't know what happened to her?"

"y/n didn't tell me anything specific" chenle is beginning to get annoyed. he knows it's in jisung's nature to be curious like this but god, if he wanted to know these things so bad he could've just asked you. "just go ask him if you're so curious".

he hears a small "hmph" sound from jisung before the younger prince sounds again. "i will then! y/n! hey!"

chenle didn't actually think you'd be passing by the library at that exact moment, but you were. you pause, backtracking as you look into the library, blinking at the jumping prince before you. "uh— hi, your highness, what do you need me for?"

jisung is quick to chuckle, waving off your use of formalities. "please, there's no need to be so formal, were friends after all!"

you only respond with a small smile, giving chenle a mere glance. "i'm just doing what i'm supposed to, i can't call you by your name.."

"well right now, you're going to call me by my name" jisung demands, which makes you snicker. he really hasn't changed. you look down at the floor, hands picking at your nails. "your allowed to, right chenle?"

chenle was not expecting to be included in this conversation. is jisung reading his mind or something? how could he seem to tell exactly what chenle wanted to say? he feels his face heat up, but he isn't exactly sure why it does that. "i mean— yeah, yes, were friends".

jisung then turns back to you, a clear 'see?' expression on his face as he smiles in victory at chenle proving him right. you chuckle at chenle's response, smiling again, but it's much more directed at chenle this time. "fine then, jisung, what do you need me for?"

jisung then walks towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder (a hand chenle is suddenly laser focused on) almost as if to reassure you. "how have you been?"

your eyebrows furrow. it's not a weird question to ask, you just weren't expecting for him to ask a question. you share another confused glance with chenle, then snickering lightly. "fine.. i uh— i've just been trying my best, as always".

jisung hums, his finger going up to caress your cheek lightly, a finger which chenle again laser focuses on, he can't help but narrow his eyes at jisung, wondering what the hell is he doing?

"uh huh, and how's your mother?"

at the mere mention of your mother, you seem to go still, pausing as you let jisung's question simmer into the air. you try your best to collect your words, opening your mouth to speak, but then you close it, as if wanting to keep your thoughts to yourself.

chenle picks up on your sudden silence, as if he could feel your heightened anxieties, he speaks up; "are you alright, y/n?" he asks, concern lacing his tone as he sees the worry in your eyes as you think about your mother.

you snap out of your little daze, clearing your throat as you nod. "yeah yeah, i uh— i'm fine, mom is.. she's doing okay".

"okay?"

"she's sick" you blurt quickly, fingers fidgeting at shirt collar. "but she's doing much better now, i'm taking care of her and everything.." you look away from the two royals, scratching your cheek out of habit.

"oh, oh my god i didn't know she was sick" jisung realizes how awkward he made the situation. "um, i wish her the best".

chenle doesn't say anything, he sees the way you glance around the room, desperately trying to think about everything else. "yeah, tell her i said hi" he states immediately, and you finally stop looking around the room to look at chenle, he notices that look in your eyes, the one where it seems like your about to cry, but you're holding in your tears.

even with all that, you smile at chenle, as if his words had healed you in some way. "i'll make sure to do that, i uh.. i have to go now, i don't want for anyone to die while i stand here".

jisung's eyes widen, and he gasps. "right! go go, you have a job to do, sorry for holding you up" you dismiss his words with a wave, jisung is still so cute, as cute as he was when you were children.

"it's fine really, you actually kind of made my day".

"well i'm happy that i could!"

you smile again at jisung, then smile lightly at chenle, who almost wants to jump towards you and trap you in a tight hug. "thank you, your hi— jisung" you quickly correct yourself, clearing your throat. "i'll see you some other time, and you chenle, i'll see you later".

chenle allows for himself to go red at the words, what do you mean by later? he tries his best to register the words, and the fact that you just called him by his name after what seems like forever, but he doesn't say anything, even though he feels jisung's gaze burning holes into his head. "later? yeah, later".

chenle has no idea why he agreed.

it's you, that's why he agreed.

WHEN CHENLE FINDS HIMSELF SLEEPLESS AGAIN that very night, he doesn't even think before raising out of his bed and deciding he was going to go to the library. he stares at the copy of frenchman's creek on his desk, mind immediately flashing with thoughts of you. he feels the structure of the book cover with his finger, blinking as he weighs his options for a moment. he could go back to sleep, but he could also go to the library and entertain himself with more literature.

"i already got up anyway.." chenle mutters to himself, grabbing the book on his desk and the situated lamp on his desk. he doesn't mind the chills which course through his body, though it's cold, the cold is no longer a bother to him, he's much too busy thinking about books (and you) anyway..

when chenle leaves his room, he notices the halls aren't as dark as they were the other time he walked them when he went to the library the other night. he blinks into the halls, the air practically pushing against him the moment he leaves his room. chenle allows for himself to let out a weary breath, no one is around to watch him be vulnerable anyway.

as he steps out of his room, the floor of the old structure creaking under his feet, he feels a breeze of cold air rush past him, but for some unknown reason, he doesn't shiver.

chenle doesn't allow for himself to stand by and simply breath any longer, so, he takes himself down the hallway, his feet leading him to his familiar place of solace (well second most at least). he notices how the hallway seems to be more lit, he could see torches as he passed through the long corridors, eyes trained on the paintings which situated themselves on the walls.

there have always been paintings decorating the walls, paintings which dictate the many generations of the zhong family. chenle watched as a kid as an artist was appointed to paint him, father, and mother, a new painting to place on the timeline of the zhong dynasty which would extend across the entire palace.

as chenle spends more time thinking about it, it dawns on him, he's going to be displayed on the wall in a painting one day as the king. one day he's going to have to sit down with yinuo and their inevitable child as an artist uses several colors on a canvas to create a painting of the next zhong generation, and his eventual child is going to have to walk past it every time they make it through this expanse of a hallway.

chenle used to enjoy staring at the paintings, used to love watching the process of paintings being created, but now, with father gone, chenle can't bring himself to glance at the painting situated on the wall without feeling nauseous. every time he tries to look at it, a silent breath has to escape his lips, or else he feels like he's going to collapse onto the floor.

he developed a habit of speed walking past the final portrait in the hallway after fathers passing, he could never look at his face again after having to watch the life slowly fade away from his eyes. he can't even look at a photograph of his father anymore without wanting to throw up everywhere.

when chenle makes it to the library, having walked very fast past the last painting in the hallway, he pushes open the doors immediately, wanting so badly to escape the suffocating hallway.

when chenle does make it into the room, he's quick to close the door behind him, but he startles when he notices that someone else is in the room. he blinks and narrows his eyes at the figure in the room, then, he relaxes as he quickly realizes who it is.

it's you.

chenle feels himself calm in just the slightest upon knowing it's you in the room and not some other staff member. it's not that chenle has anything against the other staff, it's just.. it's different with you.

how many times does his mind have to conjure that up as an excuse?

chenle ignores the reprimanding voice, it's one he vaguely recognizes, it's not his voice, it's a distant voice that he thinks he could recognize if he focused hard enough.

but he can't, because you notice him, seemingly reading his thoughts as you turn back to make eye contact with the crown prince. "hi".

"hi" chenle replies easily, it's awkward, of course it's awkward, it's the middle of the night. his eyes dart away from yours, immediately scouring the library. you allow for yourself to snicker at his lack of attention on you, and he notices, now staring dead at you. "what?"

"nothing nothing" you mutter, dismissing it with a wave of your hand. chenle wants to ask about it, but he doesn't, just looks down at the floor. "how was it?"

"huh?"

"the book" you clarify, glancing down at the copy of frenchman's creek chenle has in his hands. chenle quickly feels his face heat up, of course you were referring to the book, what else would you be talking about? the air in the room? his walk down the halls? how he's doing? you patiently wait for his answer, flipping through a book in your hands as you let out a sigh.

"oh uh— it's a surprise, that's for sure, i didn't expect to enjoy it as much as i did, i didn't enjoy the ending, though".

you raise an eyebrow, but a smile comes to your face. "why not?"

chenle finally unfreezes and steps closer to you, the book tucked in his arms as he stands beside you, your shoulders lightly brushing against each other. your eyes finally gaze over at his, and when the two of you make eye contact, it's brief. chenle blinks, and he allows for his lips to turn up, he thinks you look very pretty in this moment, the lighting of the library emphasizing your features.

beautiful, he's beautiful, chenle, a voice sings in his head, a voice which is, again, familiar, but he can't exactly determine who it is.

"i wanted dona and jean to get their happy ending, i was rooting for them".

you hum, seemingly expecting that answer, your eyes shift towards the shelf before you, focused on the books which litter it. "well, i like to think it's realistic, it's not often that people get their happy endings, even if they do deserve it".

chenle takes in your words, it seems like such a you thing to say. "i would've preferred if they did have a happy ending, though, it's why i read fiction in the first place".

"you read fiction because..?"

"it's like an escape from reality".

the words make you pause, and for a second, chenle thinks he must've said something wrong, he can't read the look on your face. he blinks up at you, your silence taking him off guard. "i mean, i guess that makes sense".

you seem to want to say something else, you seem to have a lot of thoughts on your mind, but you don't disclose any of them, just smile. "so, did you like the book?..your highness".

you hesitated before saying it, and chenle knows you wanted to say his name, but you stopped yourself, as always. he feels his gut curl in an uncomfortable way, and he clears his throat.

"y/n?"

"yes?"

chenle takes a deep breath. "were friends" he states immediately, and he notices the way you begin to avoid his eyes, looking everywhere but at him. "were friends, we've known each other since we were seven, you can call me by my name".

the truthful statement makes you pause, and you begin to scour your mind for excuses. "i can't call you by your name, your a noble and i'm a—"

"that's an order".

your mouth closes immediately, you can't argue with that, you can't really argue with anything chenle says. chenle seems pleased by his victory, a small smile showing on his face. you quickly scoff, turning your head away from your childhood friend. "of course you can just do that".

"i just.. it doesn't matter if you work here, your my friend, you can call me by my name".

"alright then, your— chenle, did you like the book?"

chenle chuckles lightly, oh he loves the way you say his name. he remembers when you were younger, you'd always pronounce his name wrong, it frustrated you so much that you would just call him 'le' instead of his full name.

"i did, it was an enjoyable book, the plot made me crave more, i just.. i can't believe it ended like that".

"your still mad about it?"

"yes i'm mad about it! i need my happy ending for my pirate love story!"

you giggle at his words, you giggle, chenle can't believe it. he just made you giggle, in the dead of night, in the palace library, he made you giggle. you take the book away from his hands, placing it back between the other books in the romance section. "sadly, most love stories don't end that way".

chenle sighs, clicking his tongue. "i hate when that happens, i'd like to have just a little hope that true love actually works in the end.."

you chuckle again, shaking your head. "i never thought you'd be a fan of happy endings and stuff like that".

chenle raises an eyebrow, puzzled by the words. "why's that?" he asks, sounding just the slightest bit offended at the statement. you blink, and he guesses that you notice his tone of offense. you find it humorous, and chenle furrows his eyebrows this time.

"i don't know, i guess you struck me as the kind of person who'd enjoy bittersweet endings, you know, you seem to enjoy tragic love stories".

"i do enjoy tragic love stories" chenle makes sure to emphasize his point, and he quickly looks away from you. "but i also like when they have good endings, sometimes, love stories need their happy endings".

"that's cute" you comment, and chenle allows for a smile to come to his face. you didn't call him cute, per se, but it's still enough to make his cheeks go red. he should not be flustered, that's ridiculous, that's— he can't be flustered.

you don't mind his silence, instead walking over to another shelf to see what other books are there. chenle pokes his tongue against his inner cheek, watching you intently. the red dusting his cheeks doesn't go away, it just seems to amplify as you have your back towards him. "it's cute?"

"yeah, i can see where you're coming from, not all love stories need to be.. realistic, if it makes you feel better when the lovers have a happy ending, than who am i to judge?"

chenle rocks back and forth on his heels, letting out a small hum at your words. "so you're the kind of guy who enjoys tragic love stories with horrible endings?"

"on most occasions, yes".

you seem to finally find a book that you'll enjoy, because you pick one from the shelf and turn back to chenle. "so how are you feeling?"

"what?"

you merely glance at chenle, than glance back down at the book in your hands and read the synopsis on the back of it. "how are you feeling these days? you have a lot of new things being stacked on you now, you must be stressed out".

chenle allows for his jaw to drop in just the slightest, it's not like people don't ask him about how he feels, it's that he can't believe you noticed the mini battle he was having with himself. he can't believe you would even be concerned about how he was feeling, he felt like most people wouldn't care about what he was going through anyway.

"oh it's.." chenle pauses, truly not being able to actual formulate coherent words. "well it's a lot, but nothing i haven't been taught how to handle by father".

your face forms into an unreadable expression, one chenle hates because he doesn't exactly know what kind of expression it is. "they prepare you for things like this?"

"well.. mostly, but even with all the excessive lessons, it all kinds of goes to my head and makes my head spin, sometimes it feels like the palace is suffocating me, taking the air out of my lungs and leaving me helpless, sometimes— i don't know, i feel like i'm being swallowed by some horrible force which just wants to make me suffer, i'm not sure why i feel like this really but—"

chenle stops, clearing his throat as he quickly averts his gaze from yours. he has no idea where that vomit of words came from, but he feels if he continues talking, he's going to say something that he'll regret. you don't answer immediately, so chenle decides to speak up once again. "i'm sorry, i have no idea where that came from it's just.. i don't know, pretend i didn't say anything".

"don't apologize, it's good to talk about things like that once in a while, bottling everything up will just overwhelm you even more".

"it's just, i don't talk to people about things like this".

"why not?"

chenle shrugs, not really sure how to answer that question. "i feel they're sort of..unnecessary, i know i can't control how i feel but my feelings have never really felt important in most situations".

"they're important to me".

the words make chenle pause, his ears reddening and a sputter in his voice as he tries his best to respond to that statement. the words are so simple, but they have such a lasting effect on the crown prince that he can't really respond to them. you care, you care, he cares! that one inner voice screams in his head. he feels his heart begin beating sporadically, it's.. god he's so grateful for you. "oh.. uh, really?"

you smile, chuckling softly. "yeah they are, you shouldn't ever feel like they aren't".

chenle feels his stomach flip, you're so sweet. "i.. thank you, y/n".

chenle hopes you don't notice his red face as you spend the rest of the night conversing about several kinds of literature.

"ARE YOU NERVOUS?" CHENLE MAKES THE MISTAKE OF taking a weary breath when that question is asked. he hears the chuckle of amusement sound from his fiancée's lips, and he allows for a small smile to show on his face. "no" he responds, clearly lying, but yinuo doesn't seem to catch it, as he begins to pick at the fabric of her dress. he turns to her, noticing the clear anxiety she displays.

"i am" she responds, putting on her gloves and rubbing a scar on her knuckles. "i've never really been a big fan of.. crowds" she states, her tone exhibiting disgust as she says the word 'crowds'. chenle has been able to pick up on her habits pretty easily, he has spent much more time with her these days after all.

chenle hums at the response, he gets it, even as he grew up having to get used to these kinds of events, it never got easier. the pit in his stomach would often never cease, that nauseating feeling only heightened, and he could just barely mask the anxious expression on his face. "i get that, they're all too loud".

"i mean, do they really care about us that much? they can't just wait until the wedding.."

the sentence makes chenle snicker as he notices the mere irritation in her tone. "they all just want something to do, i guess" he mutters, pulling his sleeve over his wrist and repeating a reassuring mantra in his head.

it's nothing you haven't done before, chenle, just get it over with, and you'll be fine. chenle thinks if he focuses enough, he can hear his father's voice repeating the mantra to him in his head.

he caresses his wrist lightly, settling in the air of the room. he can hear the faint sound of people cheering outside, and just the sound is enough to make his stomach begin flipping, the anxiety is already heightening. "all that just to see us?"

"they want to see how in love we can look".

"seems unnecessary".

"it is unnecessary".

chenle laughs again, finally walking over to his fiancée and linking their arms together. he sighs, looking down at the floor. "you sure you're not nervous?" she asks once again, raising a curious eyebrow as she notices chenle's change in behavior.

"okay maybe i am a little nervous but that's besides the point".

yinuo laughs, humored by chenle's blatant honesty. he simply gives a small smile, turning to the door of the room and letting out another small breath. they have to face a crowd, a crowd of people who are here to see them and celebrate their totally real love, a crowd who are there to watch as they are confirmed future husband and wife, they're going to get married and have children that go on to take the throne, they have to look in love, they have to.. act in love.

chenle doesn't know how in love he can look, he might get too overwhelmed and throw up right then and there. just the idea of having to do all of this is enough to make him want to cry, and he never thought he'd ever think that, because he doesn't cry, he shouldn't cry, father taught him that enough through ear shattering yells and broken glass.

he hates feeling vulnerable, but in a moment like this, having to mask his feelings in front of a crowd of people who don't know any better, who probably don't care, vulnerability is his one true feeling.

he closes his eyes, taking another deep breath as he tries his best to ignore the anxiety settling upon him.

"chenle!"

chenle snaps out his anxious daze at the shout of his name, recognizing the voice as kun, who he remembers he forgot to greet this morning, as he was in a rush.

but it's not just kun, it's also you, and chenle almost falls to the floor and dies right then and there. kun has his fingers wrapped around your wrist, there's a smile on his face (and yours, chenle thinks your smile is so so pretty). "oh, hi kun, y/n".

look at both of them, chenle, not just y/n.

but for once, chenle doesn't listen to the reprimanding voice in his head.

he doesn't even check how in love with you he must look, just a few seconds ago he was freaking out over how he was supposed to look in love with the woman beside him, but he has no problem looking in love with you.

but he doesn't exactly realize that, too busy admiring you clear as day.

"i— we just wanted to wish you good luck" kun nudges you lightly, and you let out a small laugh as you look away nervously, a red hue tinting your cheeks as you avoid chenle's eyes. "both of you, your highness" he adds, bowing lightly at yinuo and nudging you so you can do the same.

yinuo just smiles, lightly laughing, but chenle is stuck in place, mesmerized by you and.. just you. "thank you, i have to say, everyone here is insanely sweet, i feel welcome".

"well that's my job, i can't have any future queens feeling uncomfortable".

the statement from kun makes you snort, and you shove him in the shoulder. you look away from him to glance at chenle, who is still lost in his mind, you furrow your eyebrows as you watch the cogs in his brains turn, what is he thinking so hard about?

"chenle" you call out.

seemingly snapping out of the trip inside of his mind, chenle looks up at you, hoping it isn't obvious that he's affected by your soft calling of his name. "good luck" you reiterate, a small whisper seemingly shared between only the two of you.

chenle feels his face heat up immediately, eyes widening at the sight of your pretty smile. "thank you, both of you, thank you".

chenle doesn't look over at yinuo when she gives him a weird look.

"right! again, good luck! y/n and i have to go do something right y/n?"

you seem to be puzzled by that comment, chenle determines that by the way your eyebrows furrow. "what? but i thought we were supposed to—"

"alright! good luck you two come on y/n let's go!" kun gives a quick smile and grabs your wrist again to drag you away from the newly engaged couple, who watch as you two make your way down the hall towards another part of the palace.

"weird.." chenle mutters.

"so what was that?" yinuo is quick to ask, making chenle snap his head towards her, clearly not expecting for her to ask him a question.

"what was what?"

"that, chenle" she reiterates, alluding to the little (not so little) lovesick gaze chenle had trained on you for that whole interaction. it's clear that, even with how chenle didn't check the adoration he was staring at you with, she definitely did. "you looked so smitten".

chenle allows for his expression to form into one of shock, what does she mean by that? what the fuck does she mean by that? that makes no sense, it's not like he's in love with you or anything, that would be absurd! that would be—

that wouldn't be entirely out of the picture, think about yourself chenle, the most shocking thing here would be you having no romantic feelings for him.

chenle is about to punch himself in the face for having such thoughts.

"i have no idea what your talking about".

"chenle, i know i don't know you personally like that, but i have never seen you look at someone like you look at him! what is his name? y/n? he has to have you under a spell or something, you were mesmerized".

chenle wants to say that those words are stupid, he wants to spit out some quick rebuttal and have them be on their way, but he can't muster up a coherent excuse for what she just described. how is he supposed to argue with that?

"well, y/n does know how to keep people on the hook".

"seems you enjoy being kept on the hook".

the statement makes chenle pause, and he feels his face burn once again, not at the words, but just at the thought of you, god he misses your presence already, is that weird to say? he's glad he doesn't say it out loud.

"it doesn't matter anyway, what am i supposed to do? tell him about it? not with how everything is turning out.. were getting married in a few months".

"but you're not in love with me" yinuo replies, she's sure of her words, she just knows, chenle almost feels like she's reading his mind. "you want him".

"i can't have him" chenle states as if it's a matter of fact, and it's true, he can't have you. it makes his heart hurt, the idea that even with how much he feels for you, how different it is with you, and how he's had these indescribable feelings for you since he was like eleven, he can't have you.

chenle can't run from his fate, the last thing he wants to do is break the rules, challenge a system that's been in place for pretty much decades at this point.

"you're not going to break the rules for true love?"

chenle just lets a disappointed sigh escape his lips, his stomach flips uncomfortably and he feels his head begin spinning, this topic makes him want to die in the worst way possible. "true love doesn't exist" he states rather harshly. god, he sounds like father, if seven year old chenle heard himself now, he'd grimace at the words and scowl at his new nature.

his heart aches as he utters those words, he can't help but think about you as he says those words.

good god, he feels so helpless.

"MOTHER, CAN I ASK YOU A QUESTION?" NINE YEAR OLD CHENLE liked to ask questions. chenle has always liked to ask questions, being curious is in his nature, it's just that unlike jisung, he's less annoying about it. when this question popped into his nine year old brain, he knew there was no way he could ever ask father about it, he'd never be able to come back from it. mother has always been much more understanding, even with the stubborn statements she often spouted.

"yes you can, chenle".

"are.. well, can a noble and a commoner ever end up together?"

the question received silence from his mother, who, though she had previously been humming to a pleasant tune, seemed to freeze at even the idea of that question. the nine year old prince watched as his mother's face did at least seven expression changes in a matter of seconds. "could you elaborate on that question, dear?"

"can royalty marry non-royalty? could i ever be with someone who isn't royal like me?"

the reason nine year old chenle was so interested in asking this question was because of something kun had mentioned to him, about one of his cousins marrying into a royal family far far away. it got his mind turning in ways only a child's mind can, he never knew that could happen, he had grown to think that he would just end up with any other princess but could he really have a different fate? could he really change his future?

seeing as how things have gone now.. no, he couldn't.

"it depends on how it goes down, chenle".

"has it ever happened before?"

"of course it has happened" his mother finally answered, and the curious young prince allowed for his eyes to widen comically. oh he was so interested now. "in most scenarios when it does happen the commoner becomes a royal".

"i thought that was outlawed".

that statement got a laugh out of his mother, which made the nine year old blink dumbly. "it can't be outlawed, chenle, that would be ridiculous".

"so could i be with someone of a different class?"

"well, it depends on how it all works out".

chenle blinked again, the wording of the sentence confusing the young prince even more. "would father ever approve of something like that?"

she then went silent again, turning away from chenle to gaze at the bright blue sky. "i'm.. not sure, you know how unpredictable he is".

"well that's why i didn't ask him this".

another chuckle sounded from his mother, and at nine years old, chenle didn't know what was more shocking, knowing that he could possibly not have to be forced into a marriage with a princess from a faraway kingdom, or knowing that his mother didn't really have an issue with that.

too bad he didn't try to use any of that childlike courage to get his point about this marriage across.

when the little parade celebrating his marriage is over, chenle finds himself immediately on his way somewhere. he doesn't know exactly where he was going, his feet seem to have control over themselves, and he can't exactly stop himself from walking.

oh, he knows where he's going.

his feet lead him to a familiar place, your office. throughout that whole.. gathering thing or whatever, he couldn't stop thinking about you. he usually can't stop thinking about you these days, just talking to you is enough to entertain his mind for weeks, surely that can't be normal, right?

"y/n?"

chenle's sudden call startles you, seeing as how you jump from your previous position at the sound of it. he just sort of stands there awkwardly, allowing for you to compose yourself as you smile at him. oh you're smile is so pretty, chenle could stare at it for hours. "oh lord, you scared me! your highness".

chenle doesn't even register the title, just gives a small smile. "sorry i'm just.." he pauses, trying to collect his words. "i don't know, actually, i just kind of came here on a whim" he shrugs, looking down at the floor and not straight at you.

you simply let out a silent chuckle, turning back to your desk and going back to packing. chenle blinks, biting down on his bottom lip as he clears his throat. "oh really? is something bothering you?"

chenle allows for himself to look up again, your back is turned now anyway, so you can't see his rapidly reddening face. "a lot is bothering me, really, it feels like i can't do anything these days without feeling like the world is slowly tearing me apart limb by limb".

"well that's certainly a way to explain your feelings" chenle can't tell how you feel about the whole thing from the tone of your voice, it's something that makes him worry, because he's anxious your making fun of him and he won't be able to tell.

much to his own surprise, you turn around and step towards him. "are you feeling alright? like— physically at least?" you ask, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at him. just your eyes on him is enough to have chenle's stomach doing cartwheels, he hopes you don't notice how flustered he is, that would be extremely embarrassing.

"yeah i'm not dying or anything i'm just.. i'm overwhelmed".

well you'd expect that from someone like chenle, someone in such a position of power. chenle is a crown prince set to be king, he's getting married in a few months (that fact makes your heart hurt for a reason you can't explain), he's the next ruler of the zhong dynasty, of course he is feeling overwhelmed.

"ah well that's expected" you laugh lightly. "you have no symptoms though?"

is my clearly reddening face a symptom? my fluttering stomach? my seemingly labored breathing? why can't you tell i'm madly in love with you yet!?

the screaming voice in his head is just as annoyed as chenle is at his current circumstances. you narrow your eyes as you stare at him, and for a moment, chenle thinks you might be reading his mind, but he quickly dismisses such thoughts because that's ridiculous.

"no, no symptoms, i'm alright".

you seem to want to ask for more reassurance, but you don't, instead shutting your mouth and smiling at chenle. "good, i can't have you dying".

"you'd never let me die".

"you're right about that".

chenle looks down at the floor, determined to not make eye contact with you. "where are you heading?"

chenle only realizes then that you're packing your stuff, he didn't even note it down when he stepped into the room and saw that you were doing it, he was much more focused on just beginning a conversation with you, he was much more focused on talking than observing.

you hum, giving him a mere glance then looking back down to the small set of items you were packing. "i'm going to visit my mother".

chenle blinks, the words coming as a small surprise to him. "why? is she alright?"

you quickly glance back up to give him a reassuring smile. "just doing a routine check up, and it's nice to visit your mother once in a while, i need to make sure she's doing well".

chenle responds with a small 'ah', watching as you continue to pack, he feels his stomach churn uncomfortably once again, if he stays in this castle any longer, he might die from the walls which seem to slowly be pushing the air out of his lungs.

"can i come?"

chenle has no idea where that came from, it's like he had no control over his own thoughts or words, he blurted that out in a moment of vulnerability, a moment of.. wanting. he can't stay here any longer, he might die. you now fully look at him and furrow your eyebrows, clearly as puzzled as chenle is by the words. "what?" you chuckle lightly, and chenle feels his face burn immediately.

"i'm sorry, i don't even know where that came from i'll g—"

"no no you can.." you pause for a moment, collecting your words. "you can tag along if you want to i just— i don't know, you can leave the castle?"

"well yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to take me with you i don't even know why i asked that in the first place".

"chenle" you say softly, and just you saying his name like that has chenle's knees feeling weak. how did he deny his feelings for you for so long when you have him feeling like this? he's almost positive you can notice how flustered he is now. "if you want to come visit her with me, you can".

chenle stares at you for what seems like years (in his eyes), contemplating whether he should take your offer. your basically holding your hand out to him, begging for him to take it, for him to intertwine his fingers with yours. how could he ever turn down such a proposition?

"i— okay".

"okay? so you'll accompany me?"

"yeah, yes yes! i will" he replies much too enthusiastically for his own liking, you seem to catch on, as you laugh at his sudden shout. if your laugh wasn't so pretty chenle would've immediately turned away and replied with some snappy rebuttal.

"nice" you whisper, finally finishing your packing. chenle watches you intently, he can't exactly speak at the moment. luckily, you speak up once again. "we have to do something, though".

"what?"

you catch chenle's puzzled expression, and you laugh once again. "a disguise, just so you don't cause an uproar while we go visit my mother".

for the first time this whole entire day, chenle lets out a small laugh, amused by the words which escape your lips. "were gonna sneak around?"

you snicker, looking down at the floor. oh you're adorable, chenle shouts it out in his head, he can't tell you face to face so he'll shout it there.

"yeah, guess you could say that".

though he's just the slightest bit skeptical, chenle trusts you, and a smile crosses his face.

CHENLE DIDN'T REALLY THINK HE'D HAVE as much fun as he does sneaking into the village with you. well it's not really sneaking, you live here, you've grown up here, you just had to put him in some totally not suspicious cloak so that he doesn't draw attention when you make it outside of the castle. he almost fell on his face when you dragged him out of the palace gates, because of the way you dragged him, and because you started holding his hand.

chenle feels like a girl obsessing over a boy crush, just you holding his hand is enough to make him begin overthinking the whole thing in his head. according to you, you had to hold his hand to make things seem more natural, but he suspects that you're lying because of how red your face is as you try to avoid eye contact with him.

chenle has only really been to the village a few times in his whole life, though he's had his fair share of experiences here as a child, he never got to stop and observe his surroundings, much too busy trying to settle his anxiety while watching all of the people in the crowd burn holes into his head with their stares.

chenle has always been fascinated by the lives of others, whether it be the stories kun told of the urban legends village kids would spread, or the many times he begged the staff to take him on carriage rides throughout the kingdom as a child. he likes seeing situations through other people's eyes, the life of citizens who don't live as royalty seems like nothing far from the fictional stories he reads in the books in the library.

"you almost pulled off my arm, that was totally suspicious!" chenle whisper-yells, but it's not a shout of seriousness, it's playful, the beginning of a banter.

"oh i'm sorry your highness! do you need medical attention?"

chenle feigns an offensive gasp at the sarcastic comment from you, which results in nothing but a snicker from you as you nudge him with your shoulder. he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb unconsciously, ignoring his clearly heating cheeks as he performs the action.

"do you still live in the same place you grew up?"

"hm? oh yeah, we could never really afford to get another place, it's become a super comforting place for me.."

"ah, i see".

chenle admires your face for much longer than he was supposed to, and if you notice, you don't seem to care enough to comment on it.

chenle allows for his eyes to roam freely around the expanse of a town. it's a pretty place, even with how tiny it seems, he feels much more relaxed here than in the large palace he grew to know as a home, the palace was really in the middle of nowhere, no fellow citizens around for him to make connections with or whatever. this town is the clear definition of community, the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.

"oh y/n! y/n!"

chenle startles from his thoughts when a shout rings in his ears, you snap your head towards the figure, a figure chenle can tell you recognize because you give them a smile, he opts to stay silent in this interaction. "hi tao, how is ying doing?"

the man smiles brightly at you, pulling you into an abrupt hug, making your fingers slip from chenle's. you squeak as he squeezes you in his arm, but you manage a smile, resisting the urge to glare at chenle as he silently snickers at your suffering. "she's recovering well! thank you so much, i don't know how i could ever repay you!"

"there's no need to" you smile softly again, finally able to remove yourself from his crushing grip, you rub your aching arm and awkwardly chuckle. "i just enjoy helping others, i'm glad she's feeling better, tell her i said hi".

"will do! thank you so much!"

the guy gives one last smack on your shoulder before walking off, and chenle has to resist the urge to laugh loudly as you wince from the strong grip who had been squeezing you to death with that hug.

"are you enjoying my misery, your highness?"

chenle can barely contain his laugh as he looks over at you, being met with your deadpanned gaze. he looks down at the floor to stop his giggling, making you frown. "no, it was just too hilarious not to laugh at".

"uh huh, you're sooo funny".

though you were clearly irritated by chenle's laughing fit, you only softly smiled at him trying to hide his laughter. you reach over to take his hand once again, just playfully glaring at him. "yeah continue laughing at my suffering, we still have to make it to my mother's house".

chenle, again, gets jolted forward by a strong tug on his hand, but he doesn't say anything more, just snickers as he sees the pure dedication in your eyes. he smiles as he sees the look in your eye, you're just so adorable.

when you abruptly stop, chenle bumps into you, and your fingers slip from his, an action which makes him frown in just the slightest. he likes holding your hand, he has no idea why, but he does.

you begin digging through your bag for your house key, and chenle simply watches, listening to you hum the tune of a song, one you always hum the tune to whenever you find yourself bored. "here" you whisper, victorious in your search for your keys. you quickly unlock the door and gesture for chenle to follow you in with nothing but the tilt of your head, he silently steps into your childhood home, a comforting feeling in the air as he closes the door behind him.

while you drop your bag onto a nearby table and begin looking through it again, chenle slowly removes the cloak he had been wearing as he observes his surroundings.

the place is nice, small, but nice. it has a comfortable sort of air that makes chenle want to immediately relax, it's not the fanciest place, or the biggest place, but it's a home, a comfortable, quiet home. chenle would love to live here, maybe in another life, a life where he doesn't end up born into a highly respected royal family, he just gets to live like this, it's a place that seems to bring a feeling of solace.

chenle glances over at you, your eyebrows furrowed as you continue going through your bag. you seem to sense his eyes, because you glance up at him and you meet his eyes. you blink, then glance over at a door across the room. "you can go see her if you want".

chenle awkwardly chuckles as he glances at the door your eyes were on, he then glances back at you. "i— can you come with me?"

chenle just wants to stay around you.

you stare puzzled for a moment, but you don't question it, you leave your bag alone and gesture for chenle to follow you to your mother's room. chenle stays silent the whole way there, noticing the way your mood changes as you step closer to the door.

you knock on the door. "mom?"

when you open the door, you peak your head through, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you hear her say something. "yes yes i know, i'll remember to tell her, i brought a guest".

chenle slowly peaks from behind you, giving your mother a small smile. "hello" he greets softly.

your mother gasps, sitting up in her bed. "zhong chenle?"

chenle lightly chuckles, looking down at the floor, you nudge him with your shoulder. "oh my goodness, you've grown so much! come here give me a hug!"

chenle is almost surprised, he was afraid she was going to have a bad reaction to his presence, but she was much more excited to see him than he thought she would be. you push chenle into her room, motioning for him to fulfill your mothers wish.

she quickly wrapped her arms around him when he got close enough to her. her hugs are still as warm as he remembers, he almost wants to hug her forever and never let go. "how are things going these days? i wanted to go to that little parade of yours but y/n forbid me from doing so!"

"because you were vomiting all morning, i wasn't going to risk it".

she pulls away from the hug to grab both of chenle's hand, smiling softly at him. the smile reminiscent of the smiles she would share with him in the hallways of the palace when she used to work there. "you always worry so much" she raises an eyebrow at you before turning back to chenle. "how have you been these days?"

chenle smiles at her, noticing you leave the room, but too focused on answering the question from your mother to follow you. "i've been good, just a little stressed from everything happening lately".

her eyes widen again, and she nods excessively. "right! your getting married soon! how are you feeling about the whole thing?"

chenle's face falls just a little bit, but he quickly reverts back to a smile, not wanting to worry her with a random frown crossing his face. "it's all.. new, it'll take some time to get used to but i know i can get through it".

the older woman smiles at him, seemingly liking those words. "that's good, i'm glad you're still friends with y/n, he missed you".

chenle blinks, the words surprising him. "he missed me?"

your mother chuckles at the question. "yes he did, i remember watching the two of you run around the castle together as children, i was afraid the friendship wouldn't last, when i first resigned, y/n said he feared you two would drift apart".

chenle almost gasps at the information he receives. were you really worried about that? for the longest time he felt like such a bad friend because he began having no time for you as the two of you grew up, yeah that's what happens as people get older but he'd always see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he had to be dragged away for another stupid royal meeting.

"i didn't know he felt that way, it's getting much more difficult to get him alone with everything going on".

"i heard you two are beginning to talk more, he always comes to me so giddy about it these days".

chenle is again surprised by the information he hears, a small laugh of disbelief escapes his lips at the words. "really?"

"yeah, he came freaking out over you two talking about books, books! you make him so happy, chenle".

the words strike chenle like a slap in the face, it's just so shocking to him he stands with his mouth agape for much longer than he'd like to admit. his face burns at the fact, at the idea that pops into his brain.

the idea that you might feel the same.. that you might reciprocate his feelings.

he swears smoke is going to begin pouring out of his ears from how heated his face has become.

"i'm glad i could do that, y/n is truly a blessing, i don't know what i'd do without him".

chenle thinks those must've been his truest words today, a look into what's really going on in his head, a look into how he really feels.

god it's always with you isn't it?

"it was nice seeing you again, mrs. l/n, i'm glad your recovering well".

at the word 'recovering', the older woman suddenly tenses, an anxious look in her eye as she looks away from the crown prince. "right, yes, thank you for visiting, chenle, it was nice seeing you too".

chenle smiles at your mother, nodding. "i'll leave you be now".

chenle slips his hands from hers, smiling one more time before leaving her room, gently closing the door behind him. he turns around and looks over at you, your still rummaging through your back, but chenle can tell you aren't looking for something, you seem to be trying to distract yourself.

"y/n?" chenle calls out, seemingly against his own will, because he's surprised by the sound of his own voice. you simply hum in response, not wanting to look him in the eye for some unknown reason. he quickly makes his way over to you, standing beside you and accidentally bumping your shoulders.

"is she really sick? i mean she looks fine! much finer than any sick people i've seen—"

"it's her kidneys".

you cut into chenle's sentence with a shaky tone of voice, you look over at chenle, sighing as you see the confusion cross his face. "her kidneys are failing, chenle".

chenle feels his heart drop upon hearing that, and you look away as you see his reaction to the news. "what? but how did that even happen—"

you let out a distressed sigh, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. "she contracted lupus, right before she took that break back a few years ago, she recovered and we thought everything was fine but then she started vomiting every other day and i couldn't figure out what was wrong so we went to a doctor outside of the kingdom and.."

you look like you're about to cry, and you take in a deep breath to blink away the oncoming tears, but you persist, not wanting to break down in front of the crown prince. "she got diagnosed with chronic kidney disease, by that point she had been suffering from it for a whole five months! and what can i do? it's.."

incurable.

the word simmers into the air, it's unsaid, but both of you know what's truly going on. your both silent, none of you saying a word as silence quickly takes over the room. chenle finally takes the initiative and glances over at you, the tears brimming in your eyes threatening to fall at any moment.

still, you don't allow for yourself to become vulnerable in front of chenle, wiping the tears that haven't fallen from your eyes. "it's a lot to try and digest at once i'm just.. i'm not ready to see her go".

chenle gets it, anyone would get it, he stays silent, afraid of not being able to do the comforting as well as you do. "i'm sorry".

"there's no need to apologize, i mean— this is just how life works!"

"i hate that it works that way" chenle responds, fathers dying eyes flash in his mind, and he bites into his bottom lip so hard that it begins bleeding. god, he hates that memory, father only passed away no less than a year ago, and the image of his lifeless face still haunts chenle in his nightmares.

"yeah, but what can i do?" your clearly trying to be positive, but it's difficult for you to. "i'm just worried that one day i'll come home and she'll be gone.. i already had to go through it with dad and now— i don't know how i'll deal with it".

chenle stares at you, a small smile comes to your face as you glance back at him. chenle wants to cry just seeing you try to hold back your own tears, so he looks away from you quickly.

he then looks back at you, moving closer to you and taking your hand. "if you ever need someone to talk to, to vent to, to— yell and cry at.. i'm here".

you chuckle at the words, tears again welling up in your eyes. chenle feels you squeeze his hand, and he smiles softly at the sight of you. "really? you'll listen to my stupid ramblings?"

"yeah" chenle responds, nodding a little bit too enthusiastically, but he doesn't care. "i will, your feelings are just as important as mine, and you're my friend, it's what friends do".

you squeeze his hand, laughing softly again as you let a small tear slip down your face. "thank you, chenle".

"it's no problem, y/n".

CHENLE IS GENUINELY GOING INSANE, AND ITS ALL because of you. he can't focus on anything but you, and it's literally driving him crazy. he has never, never in his 21 years of living on this earth ever felt so much for just one person, what is it with you? he can't even think about you without his face turning a bright shade of red, his palms easily get sweaty and his words become nothing but a jumbled mess.

chenle finds it hilarious, how he was raised to be poised and proper, never swear, never talk when you don't have to, never interrupt others, sit like this sit like that, speak like this, speak like that, but right now, he's acting like a psycho more than anything.

he's pacing around his room like he just lost his mind or something, completely distracted from everything else as his mind is focused on you and you only.

he must look crazy, hair messy, clothes in disarray, pacing back and forth as he tries to figure out if feeling like this is normal, or even allowed here.

"chenle? could you explain to me why your mother wants— oh dear".

kun walks in midway through chenle's strange breakdown thingy, and the younger isn't even paying attention to him because he's screaming into the pillow on his king sized bed. the older watches in concern, and the breath chenle lets out is a mix of weary and frustrated. "chenle? what's wrong?"

kun drops the clipboard he'd previously been holding to rush over to the younger's side, if he focuses hard enough, he swears he can see tears welling up in chenle's eyes. "chenle.."

chenle sniffles, looking down at the pillow in his lap. "i'm in love with him, kun".

kun blinks, dumbfounded. "with who?"

"with y/n! i can't— oh my god i'm so stupid!" the crown prince grabs his pillow again and lets out a well needed scream of agony, a scream that makes kun sigh as he stares at the sight before him. "i don't get it! why does he make me feel like this!? everything is so complicated and i can't even do anything about it because i get married in two months—!"

"okay okay, calm down" kun is quick to cut in, pressing a quick thumb to his cheek to wipe away the tears. "take a deep breath, talk coherently".

chenle sniffles again, taking in another breath and then exhaling, collecting himself as he tries his best to think coherently. "i don't know, kun, it's all getting to my head, i want him so bad yet i can't have him".

and just the fact makes chenle stomach drop, he wants to start sobbing once again, but he contains his tears. "it's stupid i know—"

"it's not stupid, chenle, it's totally fine to have complicated feelings about things, and people, but you'll never have closure if you don't tell him how you feel".

"but what's the point, kun?" chenle doesn't see why it would matter anyway, what would you even do when he told you how he felt? would you grimace and push him away? would you accept his confession? what would you do? it's all he can think about. "what difference does it make?"

"it gets the pressure off your back.. and, if it's any consolation for you, both you and y/n can finally come to terms with your feelings".

chenle's eyes widen at the words, they settle a new emotion on him he can't exactly explain. "what the hell do you mean by that?"

"language, your highness" kun jokingly reprimands, his tone reminiscent of his mothers scoldings whenever chenle would mess up the garden of roses on occasions. "y/n might've.. told me some things, but you'll have to ask him about that".

"that isn't fair!"

"it is! you have to ask him yourself, it's the only way to get yourself in order!"

chenle deadpans at his older friend, but kun just snickers at his expression, lightly shoving his shoulder. "don't look at me like that, you know i'm right".

chenle would roll his eyes, but kun does have a point. "maybe i'll listen to you.."

"you should".

chenle has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that response too.

CHENLE THINKS YOU LOOK EXCEPTIONALLY PRETTY when you read. it's not that you're not usually exceptionally pretty, it's just that he enjoys admiring your profile as you read, eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed, lips occasionally parting in shock, he could stare for hours. he might look creepy on a few certain occasions, but you rarely ever notice.

chenle doesn't know how many times the two of you have been up together late in the night, just sitting in the library talking about literature. he doesn't even remember what your talking about most of the time, but he loves talking to you about bullshit pertaining to the books your both into.

for the both of you, books are sort of an escape in a way. chenle enjoys indulging himself in worlds of fiction to distract himself from his mess of a life, and you enjoy indulging yourself in messy love stories with terrible endings to distract yourself from your own issues in life.

it's all truly a coping mechanism for you two.

you both are a coping mechanism for each other, chenle finds it all simpler around you, and you feel as if you don't have to be so professional around him anymore.

chenle doesn't sleep much these days, but that's because he's spending most of his nights in the library with you. he likes listening to you talk, the way you simply piece together your words is amazing.

"and it was so sad! i cried my eyes out for weeks after reading that!"

chenle snickers at your whining, and you caress the material of the book in your hands. "i mean.. the book is literally called, they both die in the end".

"i know! i know! but that doesn't mean it's still not sad" you frown, recalling the ending of the book you were rambling about.

you quickly stop your pouting and make your way over to another part of the library, the section including romance books. chenle doesn't follow you, but his eyes surely do, he makes sure to keep them trained on you, as if you'd disappear if he even looked away from you for just a moment.

"do you want any more recommendations? or..?"

"oh, no no no" chenle shakes his head. "i just—" he pauses, having no idea how to say the words without sounding like some weirdo who totally has a crush on you.

well he is a weirdo who totally has a crush on you, how hypocritical.

"i like listening to you talk".

you blink at his words, noticeably flustered at the way they came out. chenle takes your silence as you judging him, so he's quick to chuckle awkwardly and begin waving dismissing hands. "i didn't mean to say that i know it was weird and stuff—!"

"no no! it wasn't weird i'm just.. i'm not used to being told things like that, you're so unique with your words and i never know how to respond to them".

"oh.."

"yeah".

you click your tongue, and chenle simply stares. oh you affect him so much without doing anything, what is up with you? his ears are burning, he might collapse at the very moment.

what was that kun said again? you'll never get any closure if you don't just tell him how you feel. yeah, he isn't sure if he'll be able to do it.

"can i show you something?"

chenle's breath hitches against his will, he has no idea why he's nervous, why the hell is he nervous? it's just you, it's you, his friend since he was a child, his oldest friend, you probably know him better than he thinks you do.

you wouldn't do anything bad.

"is it terrible?" he raises an eyebrow, and you laugh. your laughter is pretty, so pretty. "well? is it?"

"no, just come here" you beckon chenle over to you with your hand, a hand he almost shies away from, but he can't shy away from you, so he steps closer, following you. he feels like a mind controlled puppet, your a magnet attracting him closer and closer until he presses into you.

you smile as you see chenle in your peripheral vision, your fiddling with something in your fingers. chenle furrows his eyebrows, having no idea what it is, he tries to look over your shoulder, but you quickly block his eyesight, much to his own dismay. "why are you hiding?"

"i'm not hiding! be patient, your highness".

your teasing tone of voice doesn't make it past chenle, but he doesn't stay anything, just keeps his mouth shut. you hum as you turn back to chenle, still fiddling with your fingers as you smile at the crown prince, who is puzzled by what you're doing exactly.

you then open your palm, extending it forward towards chenle, and his eyes widen at what he sees.

"what is..?"

"we— um.. remember that friendship bracelet i made for you when we were ten? the one you broke?"

chenle laughs lightly, his face burning. "yes i remember.."

"well, i kept mine, and because were.. you know, friends again, i remade it for you, if you want it of course!"

chenle stares at you, then he stares at the bracelet in your hand, and he can't resist the urge to smile. you're absolutely adorable, sweet, chenle really really really likes you. his silence makes you anxious, and you want to begin picking your fingers until they bleed.

chenle must realize it, because he immediately laughs, a hearty laugh, a lovely laugh. "y/n, i love it, it's so.. cute i can't— how long did it take you to make this?"

"well i was thinking about it for a while and i just barely finished this last night i just.. i don't know, i missed you, a lot" you say, your words a vomit of adoration, oh you're so adorable. "it was a brash decision really".

"you're so—"—cute—"sweet, really".

you again step closer to chenle, silently asking to have his wrist with the extension of your hand. he doesn't even think before placing his hand into yours, allowing for you to slip the bracelet onto his wrist. it fits perfectly. of course it does, chenle can barely stifle his giggle.

he feels so giddy.

you don't let go of his hand, and chenle doesn't move his hand either. he stares at the indirect act of affection, his hand gently placed upon your palm, a palm that you aren't moving. what are you two doing? what the hell is going on?

"y/n" chenle calls out, his voice barely elevated as he avoids eye contact with you. "what is.. what are we doing?"

"i don't know" you mutter, blinking. you don't even think before taking your free hand and intertwining it with chenle's other free hand, now your holding both of his hands, an action that has chenle's face reddening to amazing heights. "your hands are warm".

chenle simply looks away, basking in the feeling of your fingers laced with his. he likes holding your hand, it just feels right, your fingers intertwined with his, your hands placed on his.

"yours are cold".

the words are nothing but your observations of each other whispered into the air. it's a strangely intimate moment, you two are just staring at each other in the library, your short breaths can be heard in the silence of the huge room around you.

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, then stare at chenle's. chenle blinks, he sees you, he sees what you're doing, but it doesn't seem like you're trying to be slick, you don't care, you are unashamed in your decision.

he isn't really sure how to feel about that.

you lean closer, much closer than chenle thinks he could ever handle. you give a small smile, and chenle wants to faint. he's holding your hands, your leaning close to him, and you look you want to kiss him.

and he wants to kiss you.

oh he wants to do it so bad.

"may i?" you ask, but you aren't looking chenle in the eyes, your staring directly at his lips. chenle almost chokes on his spit, are you really asking him if you can kiss him? do you really like him as much as he likes you? is he dreaming?

he stares like an idiot for so long that he almost looks frozen.

chenle nods wordlessly, but that's not good enough of an answer for you.

"verbal consent, chenle".

chenle wants to pull you into a kiss by force right now.

"yes! yes, you may".

you note his enthusiasm, enthusiasm that makes his face redden, he looks away from you, clearly embarrassed.

you chuckle silently, letting go of his left hand to take his jaw and turn him back towards you. then, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.

it's short, sweet, and ends in pretty much two seconds.

your cheeks are dusted red, and you immediately look away from chenle upon finishing your action. "that was stupid, right? i'm sorry! i don't know why i did that i jus—"

chenle doesn't let you finish, he grabs the back of your neck and smashes your lips together. you let out a small squeak of surprise, clearly not expecting the action, but you quickly relax into the kiss, sighing softly as you let an arm wrap around his waist, pulling him closer with your hand on his back.

it's.. nice, it feels right, chenle is relaxed. his heart isn't pounding uncomfortably, he doesn't feel that anxious pit in his stomach, his chest isn't tight, he feels like he can breath (ironic, really), and he doesn't want to burst into tears at his circumstances.

he feels good, he feels content.

god, it's always with you isn't it?

"wait wait, hold on" you pull away for air, pressing your forehead against chenle's as you gather your words. you chuckle awkwardly, looking down at the floor instead of at the crown prince in front of you. "sorry, i don't know how to feel about this".

chenle blinks up at you, and all you can see are his pretty eyes staring at you. you fumble through your speech, trying your best to be coherent even with the way he was staring. "i'm just.. i don't know, i have to check up on my heart levels and shit—"

chenle gasps loudly. "language, y/nie".

"you can't just say that after you literally took away my breath you.." you stop in your speech, snickering at the way you're acting, the red on your cheeks doesn't disappear, but chenle thinks he likes it that way.

"y/n" you look up as chenle calls your name again, now completely focused on him. "i.. i don't really know how to say this but i— i like you, okay? like a lot, not even just that i'm in love with you! it's.. complicated".

wow, so much for a smooth confession, chenle.

chenle narrows his eyes at the voice in his mind, it sounds like.. you?

you freeze at the confession, your whole body paralyzed as you try your best to process the words in your head.

"oh".

chenle can't tell how you feel by your tone of voice, but to him, it doesn't sound good.

CHENLE USED TO BE AFRAID OF ASKING HIS FATHER certain questions. he was unpredictable in the sense that chenle never knew how he'd react if he asked him a question as simple as what 1+1 was. when father was alive, chenle feared him, not because he was physically violent or anything, but because he was intimidating. the air temperature would lower whenever he stepped into the room, and the way his voice boomed when he talked was enough to have chenle shivering for weeks.

"father, may i ask you a question?"

"is it a stupid question?"

at thirteen years old, chenle was still as fearful of his father as he was back when he was seven, and he almost wanted to cry the moment his father responded to his question with another question. he swallowed his own spit, a feeling of anxiety immediately settling onto him. "well— i'm not sure.."

his fathers shoulders relaxed, and he hummed. "what is it, chenle?"

"why do i have to get married?"

the question was much more abrupt than chenle wanted it to be, and he clamped his mouth shut as soon as the words escaped his lips. his father stayed silent at the question, which didn't lessen his worries, it worried him much more than it should've.

his father then chuckled, he chuckled, and chenle almost let out a gasp upon seeing the sight. when was the last time he'd seen that happen? the sight was truly one to behold, he was amused, amused!!

"why are you so curious about that? you're way too young to be interested in stuff like marriage".

"i'm not that interested i just— i heard mother say something about it and i.. i don't know! i just want an answer".

his father turned back to him, an unintelligible expression on his face that chenle still doesn't understand even to this day. "let me ask you a question, chenle, do you want to get married?"

the question struck chenle as odd, but judging by his father's smile in the moment, the question was very much needed. the thirteen year old prince blinked, puzzled, but he didn't let the question linger in the air for too long, afraid of upsetting his father with his silence.

"maybe, in the future, when the time is right, with someone who i like, and know is a good.. person to me".

"person?"

chenle nodded, wordless as he tried his best not to shrink under his father's gaze.

"ah, i see".

chenle had no idea where he was trying to go with that question and statement.

"what kind of person?"

chenle was once again speechless at the question, he allowed for his eyes to roam around the room as he scoured his brain for an answer to his father's question. then, he spotted his answer, it was you, giggling with kun about a dumb joke as your mother rummaged through her work bag for something.

you caught his eye in the moment, smiling the sight of him as you waved, mouthing a small hi from where you were across the room.

chenle giggled at the sight, waving as well as he returned your greeting.

unfortunately for him, father noticed everything.

"oh? someone like y/n?"

chenle immediately snapped his head towards his father, beginning to sputter at the assertion from him. "y/n? what do you mean by that?"

his father merely glanced over at you, his lips unconsciously quirking up into a smile. "you seem to like y/n, the two of you are friends right?"

"yes, yeah we are".

"huh" his father clicked his tongue. "if you ever do get to decide who you want to marry in the future, let it be someone like him".

chenle choked on his spit, he had no idea how to respond to that. the words have stuck with him forever, even after father's death, even after his marriage to yinuo was confirmed, the words ring in his head whenever chenle does as much as look at you anymore.

it's been a week, a week, a whole entire seven days, and you have been avoiding chenle like the plague. literally. you see him in the halls and make a break for the nearest door, you catch his eyes randomly and you immediately look away. you don't smile, you don't stop to make small talk, you just turn your back and run away.

did he do something wrong? did you really not return his feelings? (no! that can't be true! why would you kiss him back if you didn't feel at least something for him?). chenle has no idea why you're suddenly avoiding him, but you are, and he has to figure out why.

so, when chenle finishes having a totally fun conversation with his mother, he makes a beeline towards your office, he knows your there, because you aren't anywhere else during the day usually. you don't visit your mother on tuesdays, chenle knows that very well.

he stops in front of the door of your office, a sudden anxious feeling taking over him. he raises his fist to knock, but then lets it fall, he instead turns the knob and opens the door to your office.

you don't perk up immediately at the sound of the door opening, mainly because your back is turned and your focused on cleaning up a rubbing alcohol spill. chenle doesn't say anything, the silence in the room practically swallowing him whole.

you still don't look back, simply humming. "did you leave something here, kun? are you going to nag me about cuts again?"

chenle keeps silent.

when you finally do turn back to look at chenle, expecting kun, you pause, an unreadable expression crossing your face. you clear your throat, smiling awkwardly as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "hi, your highness".

chenle's jaw clenches, what's with the sudden switch up? why aren't you calling him by his name anymore?

"hi, y/n".

another uncomfortable silence takes over the room, and chenle wants to die in that very moment. there's no playful banter, there's no snickering, you two aren't talking, this is one of the strangest things to ever happen to the both of you in your whole entire friendship.

you two always talk, even if it's just small talk, this random silence makes chenle anxious.

"did i do something wrong?"

judging by your reaction, that wasn't the question to ask. you simply chuckle, going back over to the spilled rubbing alcohol and finishing up with your business. "no".

"so what happened?"

"nothing happened".

"it doesn't seem that way, you've been avoiding me ever since.." chenle looks down at the floor, picking at his nails as he tries not to stare at you. "you know".

you hum, finally turning back to chenle again with the intention of making eye contact. chenle looks over at you, but not directly in your eyes, just at your face. "we can't, chenle".

"what?"

"we can't be.. we just can't, chenle".

chenle's eyebrows furrow. "you could at least elaborate on that".

"you know what i'm talking about, chenle" you grit your teeth, but you aren't frustrated by chenle, no, you seem frustrated by yourself. "you're getting married soon and i'm.. i'm nothing like you, this isn't right—"

"what makes you think that?" chenle cuts in, what is wrong with you? what the hell is wrong with you? is that really what you think? he's about to kill you. "are you embarrassed?"

"embarrassed? what? no! no! i'm literally the one who offered to kiss you i just.." you cover your face with your hand, letting a distressed groan escape your lips. "i don't want to be the reason everything goes wrong for you".

"is that really how you feel? is that really how you think i feel..?"

"chenle" you begin softly, your tone of voice making chenle's stomach flip. you close your eyes and clasping your own hands together. "i do like you too, i— love you, even, but we just can't be together".

oh. that's what it's about.

chenle sucks in a breath, he wants to shout at you, not because your making him mad, but because your right, and he knows it. he wants— no, he needs to break something, throw something against the wall in frustration, break a glass window. just anything to keep himself from having a full on mental breakdown from your very words.

"of course you would say that".

you scoff at his petty tone, but you sound more disappointed than frustrated. "your acting like i'm doing this on purpose, if things were different then maybe—"

"why can't we make it work now? huh? why does it have to be if things were different?"

"because you're getting married chenle! you— you're going to become king and i don't want to hold this over your head".

"you're so.. stupid! how is that all you've gotten from this situation?" now chenle is getting desperate, he wants you to change your mind, even if he knows it's unlikely that will actually ever happen. "you're not holding anything over my head and you're not going to make anything go wrong, i don't get it!"

"i'm being realistic.."

"how is that realistic?"

"because it's better than potentially losing my job! chenle! i have to take care of my mother, i can't afford to risk my position because someone thinks you're cheating on your fiancée with me".

your words sting, but they don't sting chenle, they sting you. your chest hurts, so you simply shake your head, sighing in defeat. your arms drop to your side and you turn away from chenle, gritting your teeth.

all chenle can do is give you a look of sympathy. "y/n—"

"chenle, leave it alone" you snap, yet you don't come off as annoyed, more upset. "i'd prefer if you'd leave".

you really just need to think, you just need to peacefully gather your thoughts without chenle in the room.

chenle wants to argue with you, to walk forward and take you by your arm, to grab you by your face and kiss you senselessly whilst telling you that he doesn't care about what anyone thinks.

but chenle obeys your wish, turning around and leaving the room.

KUN KNOWS CHENLE ALL TOO WELL AT THIS point that the younger is convinced that he's a mind reader. from his narrowed eyes to his silent snickers, he can always tell what chenle's feeling before chenle himself even does. back when they were younger, chenle assumed kun had to be some sort of supernatural being, possessing some kind of telepathic power or something, but as he's grown up, he realizes the older is just that observent.

case in point: chenle's current attitude.

"why do you keep sulking? they teach you not to do that at like.. age ten?"

kun's comment doesn't receive it's usual rebuttal from chenle, it simply gets silence, silence that kun hums at. he resists the urge to roll his eyes, standing beside the stubborn crown prince. "okay, tell me what happened".

"what?"

"there's no use in pretending that you don't know what i'm talking about, chenle, what happened?"

kun has always been assertive in this sense, chenle finds his power to be absolutely shocking. maybe, in another universe, their roles are reversed, kun would make a better ruler than chenle ever could anyway.

"i'm an idiot, kun".

the statement results in kun letting out a strange sound, a sound of complete confusion. he then raises an eyebrow, one that makes chenle want to dig a hole and die in it forever. "what is that supposed to mean?"

chenle scowls, covering his face with his hands as he resists the urge to claw his own eyes out. he lets out a groan as your face flashes in his mind, oh he is so stupid, why couldn't he just be fearless? why does he have to be such a coward?

why couldn't he be brave for you?

"i— god, i confessed to y/n but i even managed to mess that up and now we're on bad terms.."

kun goes through seven expression changes as he processes the information. "what? what are you saying?"

"he just told me the situation like how it is" he grits his teeth, looking away from the older. "we can't be together no matter how much we want to, i'm getting married and he can't risk losing his job and.. i have to go through with the marriage".

"who says that?"

"my mother, kun" chenle sighs, feeling as if he just got punched in the gut. "i don't want to put too much on her shoulders, a marriage like this has been planned for me for who knows how long and she's clearly not her best considering father didn't pass that long ago and.." a groan leaves his lips, a sour taste in his mouth. "this will make her happy, i just want her to be happy".

kun stares in silence, clicking his tongue. "have you ever tried to prioritize your happiness?"

chenle sighs. "we're not starting this again kun—"

"no, we are going to start this again, you have to think about if you're happy before ever going through with a marriage, marriage is a legally binding thing! you're gonna be in a union with this woman until you die! are you really happy with that?"

chenle opens his mouth to speak again, but it falls shut. he can't really respond to that.

all of his life he grew to believe that he'd eventually get used to arranged marriages and the idea of having to warm up to his partner. all royalty have to do it, it's just apart of the process. heck, chenle is the result of an arranged marriage himself, why would he ever challenge it when it was always the most likely outcome?

it's different because it's you. chenle can't possibly think about going through this marriage at all now that he's realized how he truly feels for you, it's not right, he shouldn't, he can't.

you're a terrible liar, chenle. at the end of the day, you will go through with this marriage, it's all too risky to not.

"i.. no, i'm not" chenle finally responds, his voice a mix of disgusted and frustrated. "i just— i always thought it was supposed to be this way, i don't want to just.. do it differently".

"well why not?"

"because this is for the good of my future, for yinuo, for my mother, to test if i can live up to the ruler my father was".

chenle bites his inner cheek, suddenly feeling nauseous. he closes his eyes, not wanting to face kun's gaze.

the older simply sighs. "i can't make you do anything you don't want to, chenle, but don't make a decision you know is going to leave you unhappy, i'd hate for you to be stuck in an uncomfortable position for the rest of your life".

and with that, kun turns and walks out of the room. chenle doesn't open his eyes until he knows kun has left the room.

the words ring in his head all day.

WHEN CHENLE WAS ELEVEN, YOU TAUGHT HIM about the several constellations that appear in the night sky. you taught him their names, how they form, what they represented, and your thoughts on them. you always had a thing for those luminous balls of gas in the sky, something about them always left you so intrigued, waiting for the next time they would show up so you could drag chenle out in the middle of the night to see them with you.

tonight, andromeda is in the sky.

it's never been a favorite of yours, more one of chenle's favorites, but he knows you'll be outside, staring at the aligned stars in the sky. he takes kun's words into account, and wishes his mother a good night before turning on his heel to make his way towards a familiar place of comfort.

the rose garden, of course.

the best thing about the rose garden is that it has the cool glass roof you can see the sky through. it was an addition that was only made a few years ago, one last hurrah for mrs. qian before her eventual retirement.

chenle spent a lot of time reading about constellations, all the information he learned he would relay to you. he loved seeing how interested you were in the information you already didn't know, your eyes would widen comically and then they would light up.

constellations have always been special to me, you told chenle once. they remind me of dad, he's the one who taught me about them, i like to think that he's now become apart of cygnus.

chenle was surprised by your way of grieving, but he couldn't exactly blame you. you liked to think your father became one with the stars, and you'd always be especially excited when cygnus appeared in the sky.

when chenle steps into the rose garden, he isn't surprised to see you already there, lips parted in surprise as you stare up at the sky through the glass rooftop. you don't notice him immediately, but when you do, you smile. "hi".

chenle bites down on his bottom lip, but he steps forward anyway. "hi".

you put your head down, then turn to chenle with an unreadable expression on your face. "i missed you".

chenle allows for himself to lightly chuckle at the fact. "you're the one whose been ignoring me all this time".

your shoulder slump, a small sigh leaving your lips as you rock back and forth on your heels. "i do realize that was pretty.. rude of me, i just needed time to think, i was probably going to have a breakdown if i didn't collect my thoughts".

chenle nods, pressing his lips together in a thin line. an uncomfortable silence passes through the air in the room, and you glance up again to examine andromeda once again.

"i'm sorry".

you snap your head over at chenle. "for what?"

"for yelling, and for calling you stupid" chenle looks away from you, ashamed of himself. "you were just being realistic and i was.. i wasn't thinking clearly, like an idiot".

"don't say that" your voice is so soft, it probably feels like clouds. "i get where you're coming from, just saying those words made me sick.." you pinch the bridge of her nose, and chenle can't stop his head from turning so that he can stare at you. oh your side profile is so pretty, chenle could admire it for hours. "i'm sorry, chenle, you probably felt like your feelings didn't matter in the moment and that was so terrible of me to do, romantic feelings or not, you're my friend, and i care about how you feel, i shouldn't have dismissed you like that".

chenle can't resist the urge to smile, his lips turn up much too quickly, but of course they do, because it's you, it's always with you. chenle has never felt such a way for another human being in his life, but he guesses your whole relationship must've been planned by the universe or something.

"you're so.. stupid" chenle reiterates, but it's said much more affectionately than the last time. "you have always considered my feelings, you are literally one of the sweetest people i know, don't apologize for thinking about yourself for once, your job is much more important than our.. relationship thing".

you pause at the words, shaking your head as a small snicker falls from your lips. "i love you, chenle".

oh.

if chenle didn't have any self control, he would've done a trust fall right then and there. he wants to faint onto the floor and never get up. hearing the words from you makes him exceptionally giddy, you make him happy, you make him so happy, oh chenle is so glad to have you in his life.

happy ending or not, at least he finally knows what you feel for him.

"i love you too" he whispers, his voice getting stuck in his throat, the shock doesn't wear off that quickly, unfortunately. you reach over for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. it feels so right, chenle could just be like this forever, and everything would be fine.

as long as he's with you, everything will be fine.

you hum at the response, a red color dusting your cheeks. you could just barely stifle your giggle, and it's simply amazing to chenle. you're just as giddy about him as he is about you.

oh chenle loves you so much.

you look up at the sky once again, eyes lighting up at the sight of the aligned stars. "andromeda has always been your favorite, right?"

chenle wants to faint, you remembered. "yeah".

you smile, your smile is beautiful.

you're a desperate man, zhong chenle.

he can't exactly disagree with that.

"you have good taste".

"you flatter me too much".

you finally looks back down, snickering as you squeeze chenle's hands. you lean forward and press a kiss to chenle's lips, it's simply a peck, but chenle loves it. "you deserve it".

chenle wants to squeal like a teenage girl with a crush, you're so cute, you're so adorable, he loves you, he loves you so much.

maybe you can't make it work now, not in this universe at least, but there could be another universe, another timeline where it does work, where it doesn't have to end like this.

chenle is upset it can't be this universe, but this is just how life works. knowing that he can't change his fate, knowing that he will go through with this marriage, knowing that he probably has no true shot with you is all upsetting, but he'll learn how to deal with it, at least you're still by his side.

at least your still in his life, he's grateful for that.

and when he sees you giggle once again, his heart warms. as long as you're happy, that's all that matters.

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onwesterlywinds · 8 days

Text

PROMPT #15: [EXTRA CREDIT]

This one is part of a top-secret AU developed in parallel with one of @hellgram's! Please look forward to it!

"Lady Vera!"

The centurio was one of Nero's, and Vera could not remember her surname for the life of her - only that she came from an old Garlean line with close ties to the Imperial Magitek Academy.

"Yes?" As she stopped walking to greet the woman, Fordola continued ahead to get them both practice swords that weren't dented to the seventh hell.

The centurio, however, did not mean to keep her: she brushed past Vera with a horribly smug smirk on her way out of the training hall. "Please give our best to young Master Atreus."

The name was not the least bit familiar to her. "Of course," she replied with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

"What was that about?" Fordola asked her.

"I've not the faintest idea," Vera whispered. Others, too, were glancing in her direction with far more purpose than usual, and one or two laughs resounded from the far corners of the room in a manner that sparked only her resentment. "Check in with Ansfrid, maybe?"

Sure enough, mere moments into their spar, Fordola signaled a pause, tapped her communication device and gave Vera a nod.

Ansfrid met Vera in her chambers with two fresh newspapers folded in one hand and a small pocket radio in the other.

"Atreus aan Loculus," she said, "and prior to that, no name at all. Arrived in the imperial palace as part of the IVth's delegation from Dalmasca yesterday morning."

Vera read voraciously, only to find that the papers themselves said precious little beyond what Ansfrid had confirmed - only that the proceedings of the imperial court had been interrupted by the arrival of a young Dalmascan mystic, presented to the emperor by the legatus of the IVth Legion.

The more Vera absorbed, the less she understood: somehow, the sole unfamiliar name alongside so many others she knew - Solus', Gabranth's, even a single mention of her father's - made the whole accounting all the more surreal, like trying to critique a half-finished manuscript. By the time she refolded the second of the two newspapers and tossed them onto the nearest sofa for future perusal, her heart pounded with an intensity she could not begin to fathom.

And neither did she have the time for speculation, with a mere twenty minutes before she was due at breakfast.

"I need to bathe," she announced, and Ansfrid and Fordola each stepped back to clear the way to her tub.

All the while, and all through the walk downstairs to the dining hall, she contemplated the tactics by which she might prompt her husband to speak on a topic that certainly fell well into the realm of "idle gossip." She did not expect Gaius to invoke the matter himself.

"Have you heard aught of His Radiance's new attendant?" he asked, the moment the servant who had brought them their respective breakfasts - a sensible Garlean one for Gaius, and a platter of various Ala Mhigan sweets and savories for Vera - closed the door behind her.

Vera scowled before she could help herself, or even fully consider his framing of the question: attendant was a clinical word, detached from all that she and Solus had shared to the point of being euphemistic. "Nothing definitive; certainly nothing I would take any great stock in." She waited a beat as she slathered a bit of flatbread with cheese and fig jam, as though the topic had not occupied a majority of her thoughts over the past bell. "What of you?"

"The emperor's diet spoke of little else this morning," Gaius replied, referring to the council Solus kept with his legati. Gaius had needed to wake for it at an unholy bell, given that its timing was meant to accommodate others stationed in the Near and Far East. "Noah van Gabranth would answer none of the questions that were posed of him."

"Or could not, in all likelihood." Vera was not in the habit of defending van Gabranth; it was perhaps the first time in her memory she had ever done so. As Gaius narrowed his eyes at her from across the table, she continued, "I can imagine you had similar questions posed of you, when our engagement was made public."

"Never in the emperor's hearing," Gaius admitted.

Were she any less preoccupied with the matter at hand, she might have demanded to know which of the legati had been the most vocal in their opposition to Solus' proclamation of their marriage. She shook her head, in no small part to focus herself. "And what have been your impressions thus far of this… development?"

Gaius often paused to deliberate over his words, and he did so with enough regularity that Vera had begun to not only expect but predict his momentary silences. At her own question, however, he visibly hesitated.

"I believe," he said slowly, "that we had best redouble our efforts to produce His Radiance an heir."

Vera's face burned with an embarrassment that took her aback, and only a twinge of resentment. "Should you ever require a more direct line of questioning with van Gabranth," she offered, "you may invoke my research in Lea Monde from two years ago. It was in part a study of the importance of various types of oracles to early Dalmascan history and society, and the ways in which these traditions shape various factions in the modern day."

Another servant arrived through the door to collect their dishes, and Gaius gave no signal that they should forestall their conversation. "Do you have this report at the ready?"

"Procuring a copy discreetly will take some time, as it would need to be mailed from Rabanastre. Barring that, I can ask Agent Walker to send over my notebooks."

"The full report will suit," he replied, and then- "My thanks."

"You've a busy day today," Vera said - a statement, not a question.

Gaius nodded.

She made no effort to conceal her motions before the servant departed: she stood in time with Gaius, walked the full length of the table, and leaned up to kiss him. "I'll meet you in your chambers when it's over."

He laid a gauntleted hand on the small of her back, drew her in closer, and returned her kiss with one of his own: firm, steadfast, and intentional. Her face flushed all over again, in spite of herself, as he drew his fingers slowly along the lace trim at the bust of her kaftan; then he replaced his helmet without another word and left to tend to his command.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2024 #Vera Rosenheim

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ihateliterature · 2 years

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Sariel Route Review

So I finished Sariel's route yesterday and here are my thoughts on it. Obviously spoilers for Sariel, Clavis and Luke’s routes

A lot of people disliked Sariel's route for its apparent lack of romance, but I love it. Now, that's probably because I am in the incredibly funny position of being an aro playing otome games and making myself gag with how sappy they are, so for me the romance is not a part I enjoy in most routes, just something I have to deal with.

"Why do you even play then?" Says the clueless alloro.

For the characters, soft porn, one liners and, of course, the LORE! Give me a YouTube channel and call me MatPat cause I'm all about that lore.

Back to Sariel.

For me Sariel’s route was basically perfect, it had intrigue and suspense and didn’t stop the action in its tracks just so the characters can make googly eyes at each other for half the chapter.

First for the things I didn’t like. I don’t like Sariel’s backstory, it’s much too cluttered. They wanted to make him this super accomplished person before he came to the palace but also have him grow up with the princes. So they made him a famous 10 y/o gang leader. It’s so fucking weird and I’m amazed I didn’t see more people talking about it. It would have been fine if he had a group of five or six other kids and they were known in their own town for beating people with pipes and small robberies and the like. But the scale we are shown is just ridiculous, they could have fixed this very easily if they would have made him arrive at the palace just a few years later. A famous 15-16 y/o gang leader is still ridiculous but not as much as a kid that hadn’t even started his puberty yet.

I liked the MC. She is smart, a quick learner, adapts easily and she’s a good improviser, all of this coupled with being really knew into that life and having little to no experience makes her pleasant to follow, she is probably my favorite MC, closely followed by Clavis’. She didn’t ride on her status as Belle and took her responsibilities as Sariel’s apprentice very seriously even if it was only a cover. I really liked that she proved herself to be not only a competent Belle but also a skilled Minister with the potential to greatly help the country in the future.

Hot take but I really like Sariel and MC’s dynamic. A lot of people hated it but I like it. I’ve seen people say that they felt like the romance kinda came out of nowhere at the end without any built up, but I disagree. There is definitely A LOT of pinning between them during the route, on MC’s part but also on Sariel’s. The reason why they only acted on it at the very end was because both of them, and the story, recognised that there was no time for romance and it wouldn’t have been appropriate.

Relationships between a superior and an employee in the workplace are complicated. Now, I’m no moral crusader and I would’ve adored to have Sariel fuck MC on his desk between lessons since Chapter 2, and frankly the whole game toys with power imbalance in relationships because that’s just the nature of royalty dating commoners. Unfortunately Sariel is not the type to abuse his position in that way (regardless of how hot it would have been, I should write a fic about boss!Sariel and secretary!Emma). Sariel was keenly aware of his position the entire time and acted accordingly. At the end MC becomes Sariel’s apprentice for real and they start dating but at that point I see them as colleagues more than master and apprentice, even the princes treat MC as a full on Minister by that point.

Here comes my favorite part . . . the KING.

I fucking hate the King. He is just like every pathetic guy I’ve ever met.

I think Cybird made a good job of portraying someone who is so shit, through the idealised lense of the one singular person who liked him.

Sariel had a toxic father-son relationship with the man. They’ve known each other since Sariel was 10 and the King was more of a father to him than to any of his children. But even keeping that in mind, Sariel still had to essentially care for the emotional needs of a man child, becoming his only confidant and carrying on his desires and hopes for the country alongside his own grief, because Sariel was the ONLY one that actually grieved for that man.

Look, I don’t like saying bad things about Jin’s mom, but she chose wrong. We are told that there were no complaints about the King before the previous Belle was chased out but I highly doubt this. We are told this by Sariel, who wasn’t there and has probably found out about this FROM the King. The man was also full of shit, he claimed to love the country but he never showed it. He let Sariel and his sons rule his country WHILE he was alive. I can understand the very end, when he was too sick to move, but there was Blood Stained Day. Not even an invasion motivated this man to get off his ass. The princes had to go and fight themselves and I don’t think that we, as a fandom, realise just how young they were. Most of them were in their teens, only Chevalier and Jin were adults, Chevalier, the guy who sacrificed war prisoners was 20 or 21 and Clavis, the mad man who ran to save them and almost died in a fire because of it was 19 or 20, only Jin could have been considered an actual adult at the time, and he was 22. And what was the King doing during all of this? Throwing himself a pity party, like usual.

He did this in basically every flashback, called himself incompetent and a bad King, and he was right.

Not only was he a bad King and a bad father, but he was an atrocious husband. Anita is the clearest example of that. I can understand why he didn’t like the Queen and the other two marriages were purely political, but he wanted to marry Anita, this was something that he WANTED, no one could have or would have forced him to do it. Regardless of that he completely ignored her after she gives birth, he pitied her, sure, but he never extended a hand towards her. He saw how her mental health was going to shit and he cried when she died, for her and the twins, but he did nothing to prevent this, he could’ve but he didn’t.

The King was not a broken man, he was a pathetic one. He spent his entire life after his girlfriend was chased out throwing himself a pity party, ignoring his duties and hurting people. He was most likely depressed, yeah, but that doesn’t excuse abandonment, neglect and rape.

Oh yeah, let’s talk about the two giant pink elephants floating around in Sariel’s route, the two KNOWN sexual assaults inflicted by the King upon Leticia Lelouch and Luke’s mom.

They are not mentioned, which is weird considering that two princes are the product of that and one happened WHILE Sariel was at the court. This man was utterly despicable. What he did to Luke’s mom can be argued as the King quite literally losing his mind out of grief and because she looked like the previous Belle (a stupid argument, but fine, I’ll take it), but what he did to Leticia was downright monstrous. He wanted to hurt her; he wanted to torture her; he did that out of pure malice, because a maidservant pestering him to have tea with his wife from time to time pissed him off so much.

Sariel is not stupid, it’s not that he is unaware of all of this, he is just consciously choosing to not think about it. He never tries to argue against it, he never tries to convince Luke that the King was “a good guy, actually”, because he knows what kind of man he was. When a loved one is proven to have done something horrible, many people are more inclined to ignore it, excuse it or deny it, because they love that person too much to abandon them, even after something like that. Sariel does the same thing, for him it doesn’t matter that the King was a horrible person, it only matters that he was good to him.

Sariel’s route portrayed this dynamic perfectly, it might have been infuriating, but I enjoyed this direction and the care the writers took to tell the audience just how shit that man was while maintaining just how dependant Sariel was on him, to the point of ignoring his wrongdoings any chance he got.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #sariel noir #ikepri sariel #ikeprince #ikemen prince spoilers #sariel route spoilers

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hummingbird-of-light · 1 year

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Against All Odds

Part 619

McCoy

McCoy pulled Scotty closer in the bed and snuggled in, tucking his face into Scotty’s chest. The room was cool around them and the Scotsman was warm. A shiver of contentment went down McCoy’s spine. He felt Scotty’s chest move in a laugh.

“Don’t ye want to get up?”

McCoy shook his head against Scotty. He just wanted to hold him close for a while, breathe him in, and enjoy some peaceful time together. He knew the rest of the day would be lively with their two families celebrating the holidays. Just for a bit he wanted the quiet of them together.

“Not yet,” McCoy whispered.

“Ok.”

Scotty held him tight, and ran a hand over McCoy’s hair. The prince’s eyes closed and he let out a contented sigh. Every morning should be this good.

McCoy didn’t know how much time had passed, he was too comfortable. Finally though, he lifted his head from where he had tucked it. Looking up he saw Scotty’s eyes open up.

“Did you fall asleep?” McCoy asked, slight smirk on his lips.

“No,” Scotty said. “Just relaxed.”

“Me too.”

“Ye ready to get up now?”

“Maybe.” McCoy moved away from Scotty and stretched out his body, with a yawn. “What do you do at home?”

Scotty gave him a puzzled look.

“In the morning, on Christmas. Do you eat then do presents or presents then breakfast?”

“Oh. When we were wee lads Robbie and I would try to beat each other to the tree to get presents. Now we’re bigger, we usually wait until everyone is up. Presents, then breakfast.”

“We always did breakfast first, so any of the staff who volunteered to work could get home to their families sooner.”

“Do ye cook dinner then?” Scotty grinned.

“No,” McCoy poked his finger at him playfully. “Most of it was prepared and cooked yesterday. It just needs to be warmed and that.”

“I like that,” Scotty said.

“I do too. Just because we’re royal doesn’t mean we should keep others from their loved ones.”

Scotty nodded his agreement. “It’d be nice if more people thought that way.”

A few moments passed in silence, until Scotty’s stomach grumbled. Both boys laughed.

“Guess it is time for breakfast then. Presents can wait,” Scotty said, pushing back the covers.

McCoy reached for his wrist as Scotty began to move from the bed.

“What love?”

“I—” McCoy’s stomach twisted. “I really wanted to get you something special, but, I just…” McCoy shrugged his shoulders and dropped his eyes. “I just never could think of the perfect thing,” he finished quietly.

“Oh Len—”

“I really tried and- and I’m embarrassed. I feel like I should know you better and give you the best gifts.”

Scotty moved back close to him.

“I don’t know what more I could give you than that I love you with my whole heart. I wanted something perfect—”

“Ye do know me best,” Scotty said.

“I’ve got presents for you of course, but I just couldn’t get that *one.* That something truly special. And, well, I’m sorry for that Scotty.”

“Oh mo ghràdh. Don’t be sorry. I’ve got ye don’t I?”

“But—”

“No. No ‘buts’ Len. We’ve got each other and that’s the greatest present I could ever get.” Scotty smiled at him gently.

“Ok,” McCoy said slowly. “I tried—”

“I’m sure ye did, love. But don’t worry over it.”

McCoy nodded again, though he still felt a pang that he could have done better.

“I think I have a first gift for ye right here,” Scotty said with a twinkle in his eye as he looked around.

“You do?” McCoy looked around the bed for where Scotty could have hidden something. Before he had finished glancing around Scotty’s hands cupped his face and brought their mouths together.

McCoy held in a laugh as he pressed into the kiss.

“I like that present,” he said a moment later. “I’m sure I hid some gifts like that around here too.” McCoy smiled brightly at his fiancé.

Part 620

Scotty

Reluctantly, the couple managed to get up from the warm bed and get dressed. Actually, Scotty was accustomed from home to have breakfast and to give gifts in pajamas, but here in the palace it just didn't seem appropriate to him.

They made their way down the stairs and could already hear the voices of their family from the dining room. A smile stretched across Scotty's lips as he heard his mother's laughter. She was so happy. And that was really important to him.

"Good morning, Merry Christmas!"

The others' heads spun around and Leah just grinned.

"Oh, did you guys finally fall out of bed?" she asked with a meaningful look and Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Like you've been up that much longer," the prince replied with a nod to Robbie. The younger Scott brother's hair was still very disheveled and he immediately blushed.

"Even today you can't refrain from your teasing, can you?"

Eleanor stood up and walked over to her son and Scotty, wrapping them both in her arms.

"Merry Christmas, my dears."

More hugs followed, and after a happy breakfast, everyone went into the great living room together.

Scotty's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the many presents under the huge, decorated Christmas tree.

He had never seen such a big mountain before. So many colorful packages. It was unbelievable!

"Well then, pick out your presents."

The young members of the families didn't need to be told twice. Even though they were all grown up by now, at that moment the little child in them came out again.

Gifts were torn open, shown to each other, marveled at together.

Everyone had gotten something for everyone, so that a large pile arose for all.

Leah hugged Robbie enthusiastically as she opened one of his gifts. It was a complete matching set of earrings and a bracelet that went with the necklace.

"With a location feature," Robbie said, pointing to the bracelet. Apparently he wanted to make sure they could always find each other in an emergency, because he had rebuilt the same new bracelet for himself.

Leah had a voucher for Robbie to visit a shipyard where the newest ships were designed and built.

Both very special gifts.

And Scotty, sitting a little to the side with Leonard, finally had to admit what he had wanted to tell his fiancé before.

"I... I've thought about it for so long, but... I don't have anything special for ye either," he admitted, his eyes averted to the side. It wasn't until Leonard grabbed his hand that he looked at him.

"You were right, leannan. That we have each other is the greatest gift possible."

A smile stretched across the lips of the two young men and with a long kiss they sealed their words.

They only let go of each other, when Scotty heard his mother's exclamation.

"Oh, the Yule bread!"

Francine quickly jumped up from her chair and ran out of the room, only to return a short time later with a whole lot of bread.

The Georgiarians looked at her in surprise as she gave them each a loaf.

"What's this?" asked Dr. Boyce. He, too, was apparently part of the royal family in some way.

"It's a Scottish tradition that everyone in the family gets their own Yule loaf. There's a wee trinket hidden in one. Whoever finds it will have a year ahead of them filled with good fortune," Alasdair explained, and David, sitting next to him, examined the loaf in his hand.

"I'm curious then."

Everyone went at their bread and Scotty laughed out loud when he saw Leonard's face suddenly contort.

Only a moment later he pulled something silver out of his mouth and laughed triumphantly as well.

"I got it! I got it!" he shouted with his mouth full.

"Well now, that's a surprise," Francine said, glancing at Granddad, who probably couldn't believe it. Still, he smiled softly.

"Well... I guess it's time for the luck to pass on to the younger generation."

#star trek #montgomery scott #leonard mccoy #scones #au #against all odds

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holymultiplefandomsbatman · 2 years

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Love Is Mischief || Loki x Reader

Loki x royalty!Reader (gn!reader)

Summary: When your parents visit Asgard for negotiations, they always leave you with the two princes, maybe hoping you’ll get closer to Thor to initiate a possible marriage. Unfortunately, it’s Loki you end up befriending, and falling head over heels for. A prank leads you to come to terms with your feelings... but does Loki feel the same way?

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff, kinda angsty in the middle?, food mention, kissing

This one goes out to my dear friend @bowieandqueen11, as well as @andsheloved, who has convinced me to start posting some of my Loki stuff that has been stuck in my drafts for ages. After you responded to me yesterday, I kinda went into full work-mode and edited this whole thing lol. I hope you both enjoy it.

The prank had been Loki’s idea – because of course it would be Loki’s idea. It was always Loki, after all.

You ducked behind a pillar, your heart almost beating out of your chest as you tried to catch your breath. Still, a mischievous grin spread on your face while you hid, listening to the distant screams of anger echoing up from the golden halls and through the palace.

“I believe they’re mad at us.”

Loki shot you an almost evil smile from where he was perched behind a door.

That specific door was a secret passage that led straight to the stables. You could still remember when you’d first discovered it, running after the two Asgardian princes while your parents had been on a royal visit to this realm. They always left you with Thor and Loki, believing you’d be in good company. That the two of them together would in some way keep the possible chaos to a minimum.

They couldn’t have been more wrong.

Maybe your parents had also played with the idea of a possible marriage between you and what would have very likely been Thor since he was the firstborn son. You weren’t quite sure. All you knew for certain was that your parents had never approached you with any plans of the sort in all the years that you’d known the two princes.

You hoped it would stay that way. You didn’t want to marry Thor.

You shot Loki an upset glare, even though it probably wasn't believable with the adrenaline running through your veins.

“Mad at us? This was your idea!”

Loki waved his hand dismissively. He inched closer to the door, waiting, listening. After a moment of silence, he hurriedly waved you over to him, and you complied without a second thought.

You pressed your ear against the door, listening for footsteps, but all you could hear was Loki's ragged breathing.

“Shut up,” you whisper-shouted at him. When he didn’t listen, you elbowed him in the ribs.

The answer was a breathless yelp.

Your lips twitched in amusement while you pressed yourself against the door in an attempt to hear the guards approaching. After a moment of silence, in which you listened for the sound of rustling armor, heavy steps approached the hall.

Loki grabbed your hand, and your heart leapt into your throat. He pulled you forward, through the door and down the hall. You’d expected him to go for the secret passage, but instead you turned left, into a corridor that led back towards the throne room.

The golden halls stretched out before you, a never-ending blur of expensive materials.

Was this one of Loki’s illusions, too? Had he tricked you, and that was why you were running forever, your surroundings never changing?

Loki pushed a heavy door open. There was the throne, and the fancy decorations on the walls that you would sometimes follow with your fingertips when you visited Asgard. You could feel the material under your touch even now, despite being far away from it.

You stopped at the other side of the room, where Loki finally let himself fall to sit on the stairs. You joined him, letting go of his hand in the process. Your own hand was immediately a lot colder, despite Loki’s touch always being cool by nature.

You forced yourself not to reach for his hand again.

Loki grinned at you, mischief sparkling in his eyes, a look you knew so well from your childhood.

“I bet they’ll have a lot of fun cleaning all that soup off the walls.”

You shook your head at the comment. You still saw it before your eyes, how Loki had exploded the soup bowl at dinner with a simple twist of his hand. It truly was a miracle that none of it hit you, but maybe Loki’s magic had something to do with it. He’d immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room in the midst of chaos before anyone could even accuse you both of messing with the food.

Which was how you ended up in a corner of the throne room. Your heart was still racing from the chase.

Now that you were very obviously missing from lunch, the guards had taken it upon themselves to find you – or maybe they’d been ordered to. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The result would be the same either way if the two of you were caught.

“You even hit Odin right in his good eye!” you recounted the events, trying to sound accusatory. It would’ve worked, hadn’t it been for the way your mouth was twitching into what was not yet a smile.

Loki grinned at you, all white teeth and mischievous eyes, even though he was breathing heavily from the effort of running through half of the palace. Your heart stumbled for a second, but you pushed the feeling away.

“Can’t say I’m complaining about seeing Thor and Fandral covered in soup.” Loki commented offhandedly, as if you were discussing the weather. His lips twitched in amusement.

You snorted at the image that would forever be burned into your brain: Thor, the golden boy in his fancy robes, drenched in today’s lunch. You wondered for a moment if Fandral would ever be able to get the stains out of his expensive coat.

“You’re terrible.” you told Loki, but you were smiling when you said it. You just couldn’t help it. The image of the high and mighty warriors dripping with food was glorious.

Loki grinned at you, a lot softer than you’d expected. He bumped your shoulder lightly with his own.

“You love it.”

There was something off about the way Loki said those words, but you couldn’t quite place it. Your heart leapt into your throat nonetheless. You wanted to laugh at him like you always did when he said things like that, but all you could manage was a breathless giggle.

Maybe I do.

The words were on the tip of your tongue, right behind No, I hate it. You couldn’t make your mouth say either of them. Instead, you were staring at Loki, anywhere but his eyes, wondering if you were only imagining a possible deeper meaning behind his words.

Loki didn’t look away. His grin slowly faded and made room for that open, soft expression that never failed to take your breath away. He was so close, the fabric of his clothes rustling against your shoulder when he breathed. The cool temperature of his body almost burned you.

Loki turned towards you, moving in a way that was barely noticeable, and yet, you could feel him shift, the angle of his shoulder against yours changing just enough for you to notice. His lips were parted, as if to say something, but he stayed silent.

You watched his mouth move, his lips opening on a breath and then almost closing, only to twitch again when he breathed in once more. You were unable to look away.

Loki’s hand moved.

Your eyes snapped away from his mouth to watch him slowly reach out. He was leaning forward, then hesitated, his hand hovering in the air over your own.

Loki looked up at you, the question hanging unspoken in the air.

May I touch you?

Your brain was empty. A stuttering breath left your lips as you managed to nod your agreement.

Loki’s fingers softly wrapped around your own, and you swore your heart stopped beating for a second. You didn’t dare move, anxiously keeping your hand perfectly still where it rested in your lap. His touch was light, careful – maybe even more so than it usually would be.

Your heartbeat sped up.

“I –” you started, feeling the need to break the silence. You interrupted yourself before you said something stupid.

The word hung in the air between the two of you. It echoed in the silence, but as hard as you tried, you couldn’t continue – or even think of anything to say, for that matter.

Loki watched your face, his expression full of an emotion you couldn’t read. His thumb brushed over your skin once. Sparks shot up your arm and down your back, your mouth opening on its own. Another shiver ran down your back.

Not a single word left your lips.

You watched your hand move, turning over and offering itself to Loki. Somehow, you’d lost complete control over your body, like it suddenly didn’t obey you anymore.

Loki’s fingers slipped between your own, softly interlocking your hands. You looked up at him this time despite fearing what you’d find. Your eyes followed his hand, wandering up his arm, before finally meeting his gaze.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Had he ever looked at you like this before? With that soft expression, wide eyes and parted lips, his eyes so full of emotion? Of admiration and wonder?

“Y/n…” Loki whispered your name, voice almost breaking at the end. He leaned forward, further into your space, until his face was right in front of yours. He was so close, close enough for his breath to stutter against your lips.

"Can I kiss you?”

What?

You couldn’t have heard that correctly. This had to be a dream that you’d awake from in a few minutes, or you’d simply hallucinated. He couldn’t have said what you thought he did… could he?

No, that was impossible.

Loki only looked at you expectantly, as if awaiting an answer. The longer you stayed silent, the more you could watch his face fall, muscles twitching, the corners of his mouth dropping.

Was this truly real?

You nodded softly, and when Loki kept looking at you, waiting, you whispered: “Yes.”

Even that whisper was still too loud to your ears. It echoed in the silence that followed, almost drowning out your racing heartbeat.

Loki’s eyes widened, and you could watch his throat move as he swallowed thickly. He carefully untangled his hand from yours and reached out, cradling your face in his hands. Loki’s touch was soft and delicate, as if he feared you’d break. It was just like it had always been, and the familiarity of the gesture calmed your nerves, if only just the tiniest amount.

He looked into your eyes one last time, and whatever he found there apparently encouraged him enough to lean forward.

Loki’s lips met yours. Your heart stopped beating.

The touch of his lips was surprisingly soft, careful in the way they slid against your own. Yet, he still managed to pull the breath from your lungs easily, leaving you gasping into his mouth. Loki didn’t seem to care, only pulling you closer into him.

One of your hands reached up to caress Loki's cheek, while the other one grabbed his shoulder, needing to steady yourself. Your eyes slid shut.

You hadn’t expected kissing him to shatter your reality, and yet, you couldn’t believe you weren’t dreaming. You’d imagined this moment for so long, always reminding yourself it could never happen because there was no way Loki felt the same way about you.

Apparently, you’d been wrong.

Loki whispered your name between kisses, his voice unsteady, breath shaky against your lips. He shivered under your touch when your hand wandered upwards from his shoulder, coming to rest at the back of his neck. He pulled you impossibly close, until there was no space left between your bodies.

You found yourself drowning in his touch. You didn’t know anymore where you were, what day or even time it was – you probably would’ve forgotten your name if Loki hadn’t repeated it over and over. You could only hope that your own emotions were as evident as his.

By the Norns, you loved him so much. Your entire body burned with it.

“They went up here!”

Heavy footsteps, steadily coming closer.

You pulled away from Loki, painfully crashing back down to reality. Your mind was still clouded, and you had to take a few breaths to steady yourself.

Loki slowly blinked his eyes open, looking as dazed as you felt. He had that same dreamy look on his face that undoubtedly adorned your own features as well.

He shot you a soft smile, a hint of his usual playfulness sparkling in his eyes.

You were about to kiss him again, already leaning forward…

The memory slapped you in the face. Why you were even here, why you’d been hiding in the first place.

More importantly: Why the guards were about to catch you.

“The prank! They’re after us!”

The words escaped your mouth, way too loud to your own ears.

Loki’s eyes widened and he muttered an explicit curse under his breath. He stumbled to his feet, offering you his hand and helping you stand as well. With your hands intertwined, he started running down the hall, pulling you after him.

You followed Loki through the palace, your heart racing just like it had earlier. This time, however, it had barely anything to do with the chase and everything with the fact that you’d kissed your childhood friend.

The halls swam before your eyes. Soon, you had no idea where you were.

But Loki was holding your hand, and you trusted him with your life.

It wasn’t long until you couldn’t hide the grin on your face anymore, the adrenaline pumping through your veins only adding to the dizzy feeling in your head. You were just ridiculously, insanely happy.

Loki continuously pulled you into hidden corners, just to hold you in his arms for a few seconds and watch you smile at him. He would press soft kisses to your lips, your forehead, whatever he could reach, before he grabbed your hand again and continued to run.

You tried to stifle your laughter and followed, helplessly lost in Loki’s chaos.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Note

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 3 years

Text

OBSESSIVE STOLAS x Male Imp pt.4

(This is a long fanfic and will consist of multiple parts.)

Stolas sat in the family limo, enjoying the smooth rumble of limos engine as he travelled home. Along the way, he felt... at peace.

As though, all the problems that plagued his mind before, had... evaporated.

Stolas ran a hand down his chest, his thighs grinding together as he thought about his time with you.

You were so gentle. So tender and elegant with him. As though he were some delicate piece of art.

But he knew the truth...

You handled him so delicately, because you wanted him to feel loved.

...Because you loved him.

The thought sending a whole new wave of warmth threw him.

So focused on the events that just transpired was he, he didn't even notice his arrival home.

He walked through the building blissfully unawares of all around him, almost in a drunken state.

Entering his chambers he found the bed made and empty.

Of course it was, Stella hadn't shared there bed since Blitzø fell into Stella's brunch.

He'd once found it all so charming. Blitzø's brash, rough and tumble attitude had once made him swoon.

But now when he thought about being with Blitzø, he just felt like an idiot for having thought there relationship was anything beyond a business transaction.

But now he had you. And you were all he needed now.

He fell onto his bed, not bothering with the covers. Content to just lay there and bask in the light you brought to his life.

But those tears he shed had took a toll on him, and as much as he wished to bask in this warmth he could feel sleep taking him and with one more happy thought of you, he allowed sleep take him.

He awoke early the morning, and despite being bathed in the light of Hell's crimson sun.

He felt cold.

As though all the warmth youd given him yesterday had simply vanished.

He sat up, sluggishily removing the covers went about preparing for his day of... nothing.

Stella hadn't allowed him anywhere near his usual meeting or appointments, not since- well you know what happened.

Perhaps he'd try and talk to his beloved Octavia. If she was feeling hospitable.

Hmmm. Perhaps not. He should probably just give her some space.

Besides he realised an even more important thing he could do with his morning.

Learning everything he could about You.

Turning over, he found his phone. Looking through his contacts.

He found your name, going into your contact he considered messaging you, but decided against it. He didn't want to bother you so early in the morning.

Instead he pulled up Voxtigram, his main form of communication, before typing in your name.

But he couldn't find you.

So he checked Blitzø's friend list, he eventually found you, it turns out you just had your name backwards, something that made him chuckle.

Seeing pictures of Blitzø sent pangs of sadness through his chest, but he soldiered on.

Scrolling through your pictures, he didn't find much.

Alot of them were just pictures of the places you'd been, or one of the weapons you used on the job.

He eventually did find some of you.

The first he found was you and the two other Imps that worked there, Millie and Moxxie he was pretty sure were there names.

The next was you on your first day at work.

It was a selfie of you in a group hug with Blitzø and the others.

You were all clearly being forced by Blitzø.

The awkward little smile you wore sent a wave of warmth through him.

Scrolling further down, he found more pictures of you. Most of them were just you relaxing at a variety of places, or after after getting a new outfit. Just general stuff about your life in hell.

Then he found one that made his heart skip a beat.

It was a picture of you. Wearing just a pair of shorts at the gym.

You were pulling a little pose, flexing your muscles in front of a mirror, a shy little blush across your cheeks.

Stolas' swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry.

He rubbed his thighs together as he fantasised about licking the sweat off your abs.

With a shake to his head, he decided now was a good time to get out of bed.

Leaving his phone as he went and took a nice long shower.

A nice long, cold shower.

Getting out, he chose a more casual outfit.

An old T-shirt and some jeans he reserved for comfy home clothes. He didn't have anywhere to be.

He made his way to the kitchen, where he found Octavia sitting at the table.

The more calculating part of his brain told him to just leave her alone, but he decided against it. He shouldn't hide from his daughter, she needed to know he was still there for her 'Hello darling, how did you sleep.' He asked pleasantly.

Octavia looked up at him, her eyes looking cold and annoyed. So, not all to different from her usual teenage gaze.

'I slept fine dad.' She sai, her voice dull and lifless, before looking back down at her phone.

Stolas swelled with joy.

His daughter was speaking to him again. Everything seemed seemed to be getting better for him.

Pouring himself a bowl of serial, he took a rather lecherous lstroll down memory lane, Thinking about his time with you.

He didn't know how long he'd been thinking about you, but he was quickly pulled out of it when he felt something hit him on the back.

The clanging of cutlery that followed soon after gave him a good idea of what it was.

Turning around he found a rather angry teenage owl glaring at him.

Before he could ask what was wrong. The owlet released a frustrated growl. 'Can you just not?' She asked rhetorically.

Running down her face she told him 'I have do deal with you and Mums B.S. all the time, can you just not fantasise about your fuckin Blitzy~ in front of me.'

She fell back into her seat with a huff.

Stolas was a little shocked. He hadn't thought his beloved daughter could be so course.

'I-I... I didn't realise I was being so bothersome.' He said, sounding perhaps a bit to wounded.

Octavia sighed, 'Can you just not in the kitchen. Where we eat, please?' She asked, going back to her breakfast.

Stolas sighed, picking up his now soggy bowl of serial. 'How long had I been in that state?' He asked himself.

'Five minutes' answered Octavia not looking up from her phone.

'Oh' he said to himself, taking the bowl he poured it into the trash. 'Well that's disgusting.'

He chuckled to himself. Looking over his shoulder he said 'Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to hear you won't be hearing much about Blitzø... ever again.' He told her being perhaps a little vitriolic.

Getting a cup from the cupboard, he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Walking over to Octavia he went to take a seat, but stopped upon seeing her distrustful gaze.

Taking a seat he sighed. 'Octavia, darling... I know these past few weeks haven't been easy on you. And I know much of that-" He had to stop as Octavia glared daggers at him. "...All of it, was my fault. But I promise, things will get better... for both of us.' He took her hand into his own. 'I promise.'

Octavia looked up at him, she looked so startled by his words.

It seemed like she was gonna say something, dew drops forming in the corners of her eyes.

He was about to say something when Octavia shot up and ran away.

Stolas sat there. For a long while. His conversation running over in his mind.

Taking a drink from his coffee he stood up, put his cup in the sink and left.

He found himself in his garden, perhaps the last place he still felt at home on the palace grounds.

Trying to calm himself down went about his usual grooming routine.

Trimming bushes, feeding his plants, pulling weeds and just general plant care.

And as much as his plants soothed his nerves,, he could feel his mood shifting.

The depression beganing to invade his thoughts.

He felt himself become that miserable husk that got shoved out of Blitzøs office.

He clutched his head, hunching over on the brink of tears. His thoughts became like daggers, stabbing into his thoughts.

But before he could shed a tear, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he found it was a call from you.

In something of a surprised stupor, he answered the call. He tried to clear the emotion from his voice before saying 'Hello?'

'Stolas? Are you okay? You sound upset.' You asked him, concern in your voice.

'(Y/N)?! I... I'm...' he was going to tell you some fluff story, pretending he was fine and probably throwing a few lewd innuendos I'm there.

But, he choked... He just couldn't.

'No... No I'm not okay.' He told you, on the brink of tears. 'I feel like everything is broken and it's all my fault.'

You took a moment to respond, clearing your throat you said. 'Stolas... why did you sleep with Blitzø?'

Stolas was taken aback, 'P-Pardon?'

You sighed, 'Did you want to hurt your family when you chose to sleep with Blitzø?'

Bringing up it was he who made of decision to sleep with Blitzø, made his self loathing grow like a fire.

'N-No!' He told you 'I would never want to hurt my family...'

'Its alright Stolas, I know you wouldn't want to hurt them... But you slept with him for a reason Stolas, you need to know what it is.'

Stolas wasn't sure how to answer, he didn't really know the answer. He could lie, tell you it was just a spur of the moment decision, but that just wasn't true.

'I-I don't know.' He stated, more then said. 'I don't know why I did it... I just... don't know.'

He sat there for several moments, his mind going into overdrive as he thought over the question.

'Its alright Stolas, I believe you. But you need to figure it out, this is something that will haunt you until you figure it out." You told him, trying your best to be serious.

Stolas wiped his eyes, before asking you, 'why did you call (Y/n)? I... don't remember giving you my number!' He mumbled out, rubbing his eye.

You coughed, clearing your throat, 'Don't worry about that. I actually called you because, well I mean, I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to do something tomorrow?' You asked him, voice thick with bashfulness.

Stolas was really taken aback, 'You... You want to do something... With me?' He asked incredulously.

You chuckled on the other end of the phone. 'If I were there right now, Stolas, I'd probably boop you right on a nose.' You tell him through a smile.

'I'd love to do something!' Stolas practically cheered. You chuckled, before telling him 'Great, Ive already got an idea, but if youd like to do-'

Before you could finish your note, Stolas shouted, 'I'd love Too!'

Stolas quickly calmed down, before clearing his throat, 'Sorry... I mean, I'd love to do whatever you had in mind.' He said, cringing at how desperate he'd sounded.

'Good to hear' You chuckled, 'Well, there's this great wine place I know that makes the best little pizzas, and I, uh, wanted to share it with you.'

Your words sent a wave of ecstasy through his body. You not only wanted to spend time with him but actively sought him out to spend time with him.

You were everything he wished Blitzø was.

And he loved it.

He didn't need Blitzø.

He had you now.

'Of course (Y/N), It would be my pleasure to spend some time with you.' He told you, biting his lip.

He felt like a school girl with her first crush, a youthful giddiness clouded his mind.

'Oh? Well I've got tomorrow off, does that work for you? We can do it another day if your busy.' You told him, concern clear in your voice.

It was Stolas' turn to laugh at the tone in your voice.

'I don't have anything on tomorrow, so I'd love to accompany you to yor wine and pizza place. Nothing would make me happier.' He told you earnestly.

He could hear the smile in your voice, as you told him. 'Well, I'm happy to hear that. I'll send you the address later today, call me if you need any directions... I'll see you then, Stolas.'

'I...' Stolas wanted to tell you how much he loved you, just how much joy you brought him with one simple phone call.

He wanted to tell you, but didn't have the words.

As he tried to manifest the words he needed, he heard say through the phone.

'Its alright Stolas. I look forward to seeing you too.'

You told him simply, Stolas just sighed. How you always knew what he was trying to say.

'I'll see you tomorrow, My Beloved.' he told you before you hung up.

Hearing the tell tale dial tone, looking down at the phone, your image in the caller I.D. bringing a smile to his face.

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #x reader #headcanon #helluva stolas #stolas x reader #stolas #helluva boss headcanon

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crowsmybeloveds · 3 years

Text

Shadow and Bone Series: Chapter Two

In Cold Blood

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x Reader

Summary: The Crows continue to visit Y/N at the Emerald Palace, and make some interesting developments.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Implied suicide (don’t take it too seriously hint hint); abuse; Pekka Rollins; again canon typical violence/slave stuff (this time it’s described more, but again nothing graphic); the Menagerie;

A/N: Thank you so much if you liked the first chapter!!! This one is a little longer and I promise the end isn’t as bad as it might seem.

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~

Jesper Fahey liked to do his own thing. Sure, as a member of the Dregs he had to listen to his boss and go on jobs, but he loved his free time in between. Hence, he often avoided going on little arends for Kaz at all costs. It would be a waste of his time.

Jesper Fahey was now talking to Kaz. Volunteering for an arend. For the fourth time this week.

Kaz, Inej, and Jesper had been visiting the girl in the basement regularly since their first meeting with her. Kaz chalked it up to business, the girl and her potions were powerful assets, but the other two would admit they had found a new friend.

There were rules to these visits. First, only go during the day. Even if it seemed counterintuitive to sneak there in the broad daylight, Y/N insisted she would be unavailable in the night, as that was when her “work” was done. Also, if you are there, you must hide well behind the crates, and remain armed. You were lucky every time you made it out of there alive.

It was a daunting task, but Jesper was always up for it.

“You’re going to go there again?” Kaz asked him, eyebrows raised, “You know it’s Inej’s turn, correct?”

“Yes, and I also don’t care,” Jesper answered, “Also, she probably has things to see, people to do, and whatnot. I, on the other hand, have my whole day cleared. And I couldn’t deprive the lovely basement girl of this face.” He smiled, pointing to himself, “I mean, come on.”

Kaz stared at him, seeing through his antics in a minute. Jesper had taken a liking to the girl. What will happen the day he visits to find she’s not there anymore? Kaz thought. His hopes are too high.

“Fine, Jesper,” He agreed, “but be careful not to draw attention.” He scrunched his nose. “Do your best not to dawdle.”

“Right, I’m off then!” Jesper exclaimed as he clapped his hands together and ran off.

“I’m going tomorrow!” Kaz shouted after him.

The sharpshooter knew his boss was suspicious of his actions, but in all honesty he didn’t care. Normally he would have thought there wasn’t much spending time with her could do, as she had told him many of the same things over and over. That must have meant she had told him all that she knew. But Jesper was not going for information, he was going to be with her. He liked to think they were friends.

Jesper was often distracted. Whether he saw a pretty person to flirt with or a table to gamble at, he always found a way to not be doing whatever he was supposed to. Everything around him was so appealing and stimulating, especially in the Barrel. Even so, he sped down the streets without a single double take or second thought as he headed to the Emerald Palace. He really wanted to see her. So bad it was addicting. At first he thought that maybe the girl was drugging him, seeing as that is her particular expertise, but soon he realized that he just liked her. She was funny, and she laughed at all his jokes. She was also so intriguing. So powerful yet rendered powerless. He was enchanted, but he knew something was missing. It seemed it wasn’t her fault. He wanted to help.

That day when he arrived at the window (after making sure no one could see him, of course) Jesper saw Y/N sitting against the wall with her legs hugged to her chest. He called her name softly, and waited for her to reply. She didn’t reply, or even move. Against his better judgement, he shouted louder, risking being discovered by one of Pekka’s crew. He didn’t care. He banged the windows. Praying she would say something. Or turn her head. Or nod. Anything. She didn’t. A single tear rolled down her face.

Y/N had been sitting there for three hours. There wasn’t much to be said about what had happened. Only that she did not remember, whether her loss of memory was intentional or not. It was an off day, that’s all.

Jesper was panicking. He had no idea how to get her to wake up. That is, if she was asleep. Truthfully, he did not know what was wrong with her or what to do. Unfortunately, his noise making had roused a different group of people. Jesper had to run down the alley as he heard shouts coming his direction. He ran the rest of the way home, still in shock. He was not haunted by his near escape with the Dime Lions, but the look on the girl’s face. What had they done to her?

“And she didn’t move at all?” Inej asked. Jesper had just explained to her what happened after he showed up to her room at the Slat. She hadn’t appreciated being woken up from one of her rare naps, but she didn’t complain when she saw the look on his face.

“Not that I could see,” he replied, shaking his head, “Inej, I swear she could hear me.”

Inej did not know what to say. This kind of behavior was not usual for Jesper. He had his normal amount of energy, but it was not often it was all directed to one place: worry. It was odd that something upset him and he did not distract from it by going to gamble or making a joke.

“I just, if it were you I’d understand, but who could ignore me?” he said, “Going unnoticed is not a Jesper talent.”

There it was.

“You’re deflecting” She called him out, “It’s not funny. We should tell Kaz.”

“That's not funny,” Jesper replied, “what is Kaz gonna do? Tell us to stop talking to her?”

Inej sighed. It’s possible that he would advise that. But he also wouldn’t just let Pekka Rollins keep his most dangerous weapon. Especially not when she didn’t seem to have much loyalty. She had told Inej so many times. The girls had a bond due to the Menagerie, and Y/N told her much about her past and present. She explained different chemicals she had made and plans she had heard to Kaz. But with Inej, she explained how she felt about them.

Y/N hated every second in that basement. She had told Inej as much. Repeatedly. But she was rather scatterbrained. She repeated herself often and forgot things that she had already been told. She would forget what day it was and what she had done the night before. Inej had experience with trauma and sleep deprivation enough to shrug this off. She didn’t want to cause her friend anguish by questioning it.

The incident Jesper was describing made her think that maybe she should. Y/N was smart. Hell, she was a self taught Grisha fabrikator. So good, she could kill people from miles away. How could she be so forgetful? Someone so scientifically gifted must have a better mind than that. Someone must have been messing with it.

After some convincing to Jesper that Kaz would not kill or give up on Y/N, the pair made their way to their boss’s office.

“I was waiting for this to happen,” was Kaz’s response.

“What, that’s it?” Jesper raised his voice, “You have nothing else to say?”

Kaz glared at him from his desk. “I don’t know that you thought through your attachment to her, Jesper. You should never have assumed she was on our side.”

Jesper stared bullets at his boss in front of them. They seriously weren’t going to help her at all? She needed to get out of there, he knew that for certain. If it wasn’t because he cared about her then it should be because she is an asset. A good investment. Saints, he hated calling her that.

He didn’t say any of this, however, and instead started to walk out of the office. Just before he was out the door, he heard Brekker speak up.

“I’ll go and see her tomorrow.”

When Kaz Brekker reached the girl’s window, he gave it exactly seven taps with his cane, with a very specific beat. It was a signal he had made with Y/N so that she knew to open the window and talk to him without him having to raise his voice.

The girl turned toward the window at the sound. She set down the bottle she was currently working on and walked over. Kaz started speaking as soon as it was opened.

“How long have they been drugging you?”

Y/N scoffed, “Hello to you, too!”

“How long?”

“Um, never?” She replied, getting confused. “They don’t drug me with anything. I’d notice. That’s kind of my job description.”

Kaz looked to the side, thinking. The only way to explain her odd behavior, forgetfulness, and calmness in her position was that she was being manipulated. And because she was constantly making poisons and “potions” for Pekka, it made sense that she was being given her own drugs without her knowledge. He had thought this since he’d met her. She had to be on some sort of relaxers when he first saw her. Why else would she have so willingly opened the window for strangers?

“Why did you ignore Jesper when he was here yesterday?” He asked, hoping to get the information from her in a more roundabout way.

“I didn’t?” Y/N asked, “Inej was here yesterday, she got those vials of knockout gas you asked for.”

Kaz squinted at her, “Y/N, that was two days ago.”

She shook her head, “No, no, because I was working on those just yesterday and I just finished them when she stopped by. I haven’t seen Jesper in a couple of days, Kaz. Are you feeling ok?”

Kaz wasn’t sure how to react to this. She had missed the whole day? He was sure things like this had been going on this whole time, but never in the month since they began speaking with her has she forgotten a whole day. She had to have taken something.

“Are you self medicating?”

“No! Why- what are you talking about? What is going on?”

“Y/N, Jesper came here yesterday and you were sitting in that corner near catatonic. You wouldn’t speak or even move.” Kaz informed her.

“He must not have shouted loud enough, I was probably asleep.”

“You normally sleep with your eyes open?” He is tone was sharp. “Jesper said you were crying.”

She didn’t respond. She was shocked out of her mind. It was possible Kaz was lying to her to get some sort of information out of her, but it didn’t seem that way. He looked uneasy, the kind of unease that comes from not knowing something. He was a very smart man, and when something did not make sense to him he got nervous. So, this must have actually happened. And if she could not remember it, something was terribly wrong.

“I’m sorry, Kaz. I just don’t remember.”

“Fine. Then I need you to stop eating the food they give you. I’ll have Inej stop by with something to eat during the day.” Kaz paused, thinking. “And I would like to get you out of here, and have you join the Dregs. I just have to figure out how.”

“No, Kaz. I can’t leave.”

“Why? You have loyalties to Pekka Rollins?” He asked, anger clear in his voice.

Do I? She thought. While she knew his treatment of her was unfair, she wondered whether or not she still cared about him. In her time at the Emerald Palace, Pekka had told her many things about how he was the only one who would ever care for her. He claimed that he had saved her from the Menagerie, and he was taking care of her because he loved her. He also said that he would help her find her sister, often claiming that the potions Y/N was making was helping him follow leads about her.

When he started bringing men down into Y/N’s room, she was only a teenager. The first man that had ever touched her in that room also told her information about upcoming trips, which Pekka used to choose the perfect time to rob his house. Y/N felt disgusting in her skin ever since, but Pekka reassured her. I’m sorry , canary. I’ll protect you. Those men are not like me. While any sane person would call giving her food and shelter supplying her basic needs, Pekka called it courtesy. A gift because he loved her. A gift that could be taken away. He let men take advantage of her just so she could get him information, and then called it love. And she believed him. Until one day.

A man had come down into her room, which was usual for her on any given night. However, this man started out rough and stayed that way for the rest of his visit. She had tried her best with past men to get as much information as she could through simple flirting and drugging, but he was not there for small talk. For a brief moment, she considered saying no. In the moment following, she remembered what happened the other times she had done so.

She didn’t get any of the information she had been asked to draw from the man. Pekka was livid. The argument following had been explosive and painful. Not just emotionally.

“This isn’t love.” She tried to say it in a firm voice, but it came out broken and weak.

“How could you possibly know?” Pekka replied.

“Because you don’t deny it.” She said, summoning the strength to look up at him. “The men who come down here sometimes mention their wives. They might not be the pinnacle of married men, but I know they would never do this. This is bad for me.”

“Oh, is it so bad for you?” He raised his voice. “And who is going to treat you better, hm? Who out there would possibly care about you like I do?”

She turned her back to him. She sniffled as she cleaned up her worktable, silently hoping he would just leave.

He grabbed her arm, whipping her around to face him. “I don’t care if you hate me. You will stay here because of Anais. You will stay because you need me.”

The memory was scarring.

Kaz watched as Y/N got lost in her own thoughts. His voice startled her out of her memories. “Y/N, do you have loyalties to him?”

“My sister, Anais.” She breathed. “He is helping me find my sister.”

“Is that all?”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I need to find her. Have you ever had any siblings?”

Kaz paused for a moment. The comment seemed to toy with him. “No.”

“Then you don’t get it. I want to be with people I belong with. To figure out where I’m from.” She sighed. “Pekka is helping me with that.”

“And he has proven that he is actually doing so?”

“He said that he knew she was involved with the slavers who took me away. He is getting in with them to try and figure out where they took her.”

“Y/N, I don’t think he is actually doing that.” Kaz said, shaking his head. “This is your reason for staying?”

“And I have nowhere else to go!”

Kaz took a deep breath. He had decided what he was going to do for the girl since the day he met her. She was an asset. With her power he could complete jobs and gain kruge with record speed. Not to mention, if Kaz had her on his side, Pekka didn’t. The sweet taste of revenge covered his tongue just at the thought.

“I have an offer,” he began, “You come with me. Not now, but soon. I’ll come everyday to ask questions and we’ll plan your escape. In the meantime, you gather your things discreetly and try to find as much dirt on Rollins as you can.”

“But my sister -“

“If you are a part of the Dregs, you will help when asked, but the rest of your time is yours. Look for your sister, gamble your money away, take up baking, — I don’t care. You’ll be free.”

The offer was good. Great, actually. So why was she hesitating? Was Pekka’s manipulation really enough to make her turn away an opportunity like this? I don’t know.

And what about Kaz? Could she really trust him? The man wanted her for her powers, too. How was he different from Pekka? In her limited experience, he wasn’t. I should stay.

But Jesper. In the short while she had known him, Jesper had become her favorite part of being alive. And Inej, who was the kindest soul she had ever encountered. If they were with Kaz, he couldn’t be the demon he tried to be. At least not like Pekka. I should go. I should have gone a long time ago.

“Deal.”

In the weeks following, Kaz came every day to discuss every aspect of the Emerald Palace with her, in the hopes that he could get her out. Getting her out of the building would be simple, but keeping her from being hunted by the Dime Lions for the rest of her days would be complicated. The plan would have to be completely airtight, so Kaz needed time.

A few days later, Jesper was at the window speaking with her. The other members of the dregs would often visit along with Kaz and stay to talk to her, or they might come in his place. Today, after describing her entire tailoring process to Kaz, Y/N was speaking to Jesper about music.

“It’s like this huge golden machine made by Fabrikators, right?” Y/N smiled as she excitedly spoke. “And you take this small disc, place it on the machine and put the needle on it, and then music comes out!”

Jesper grinned at her. He loved the way she looked when she was excited about something. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one before.”

“Well, it’s wonderful,” she sighed, “Not to mention there’s thousands of the disc things, and each one is a different song. I wish more people had them than just the rich men who can afford it. I mean I wish I could have one.”

The two had been known to discuss things that had nothing to do with her escape, which Kaz had scolded them for plenty of times. But they enjoyed talking to each other, and they often got distracted. Odd topics of discussion were bound to happen whether they liked it or not. However, when Jesper realized that they had strayed from their original reason for speaking, he redirected the conversation.

“So, you get tailored nearly everyday?”

“Well, whenever anyone comes to see me. Only Pekka knows what I really look like. And you and your friends. Maybe it's a security thing.” She told him, thinking as she spoke. “Also, if anyone sees me who isn’t supposed to, I’m meant to drug them so they forget. Pekka really just does not want anyone knowing I’m here. Some bastard might try to steal me away.”

Jesper smirked at her. “I cannot imagine who would ever do something like that.”

Visits were going relatively well. Kaz had nearly enough information to finalize his plan for her escape, so he visited less and less. Y/N was becoming a solid member of the Crows even though she had so little time with them. She matched Jesper’s humor, built trust with Inej, and had a shared anger for Pekka with Kaz.

Today was Inej’s day to go visit Y/N, and she was running rather late. She knew the girl had mentioned not to visit after the sun went down, but Inej had been busy all day and could only find time to make it to the window after dark. When she got there, however, she realized why Y/N had made the warning.

When she looked through the window, she noticed that Y/N was not alone. When she looked closer, she realized Y/N was with Pekka Rollins. Luckily, Inej was the Wraith, she could watch what happened next without being seen.

“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to eat your dinner,” She heard Rollins speak first, in the most condescending tone she had ever heard. “Not after I worked so hard to get your favorite.”

Y/N sat on her cot, avoiding eye contact. “Not hungry.”

Rollins grabbed her by the jaw roughly, forcing her to look at him. Inej noticed tears shining in Y/N’s eyes. “Not hungry, hm? We both know that’s not true.” He laughed, with a terrifying lack of humor behind it. “Why are you lying to me, canary?”

The girl shook her head as the tears fell down her face.

“Your tears will do you no good.” Rollins snarled. “Do not forget what you are.” He paused, raising a brow. “What are you?”

The girl sniffled and didn’t respond.

“What are you?” He shouted and raised his voice this time, causing her to shake.

“A canary.” She whispered out.

“Good, and if I give you a song...”

He raised her chin higher, prompting her to finish his words. “I sing it.” The words fell from her lips like something rehearsed, but unbearably painful.

He gave a tight lipped smile. “Right. Don’t forget it again.” He sat down next to her and handed her the plate she had sat on the table beside her. “Now you eat and I’ll tell you about the man who is coming here tonight.”

Inej felt like she was going to throw up as she travelled the rooftops of Ketterdam back to the Crow Club. She knew Y/N was being mistreated at the Emerald Palace, but seeing it take place was something entirely apart.

As she walked in the doors of the club she felt a presence beside her. She looked over to see Jesper walking with her. He must have been guarding the door. He was waiting to ask a question.

“Yes, Jesper, I went to see her.” Inej spoke to him, her voice rough.

“And?”

“And Pekka Rollins was there.”

Jesper stopped in his tracks. “Saints, is she ok? Are you?”

“I’m fine,” Inej assured, “But I’m not sure about Y/N. He is anything but gentle with her. And he forced her to eat the dinner he gave her. I don’t think she’s gonna be able to avoid the drugs they give her anymore. If only she could remember to take an antidote before her mind goes.”

“Shit, we need to get her out of there, soon.”

The pair once again went to Kaz to discuss the girl, only to find him at his desk, writing furiously with two bottles in front of him.

“Kaz, Inej -“ Jesper was cut off.

“She told me how she’s been killing all those people.” Kaz stared at the bottle in front of him, observing it scientifically.

Inej and Jesper looked at each other before looking back at their boss. What was he on about?

“I don’t understand.” Inej had a confused look on her face as she tried her best to make eye contact with Kaz. She wanted to try and read him like she knew she could, but right now the man in front of her was like a blank page.

“Y/N. She gives them a liquid of her own design, but it isn’t poisonous,” He kept his eyes trained on his work, “At least not until she makes it poisonous. She can give someone poison hours in advance but it kills them right at the perfect moment. Right when she can get away. And, once they are dead, she can change it back to something nontoxic. It’s flawless: not a single trace is left.”

“Great, boss,” Jesper said, growing impatient. “Can we talk about why we are here?”

Kaz frowned, “What, because you want to get Y/N out sooner? She’s in a terrible situation?”

“Exactly,” Inej pleaded.

“If I tried to save everyone in the Barrel I’d be broke by dawn.” Kaz said, looking back at his work. Inej and Jesper stood there in shock. “If you don’t have anything else to say…”

Inej placed a hand up to keep Jesper from exploding. “Kaz, you told us that you would help her escape.”

“I needed information, Wraith, you wouldn’t help me if I told the truth.”

Jesper spoke up, “So you lied to us? And what did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She’s prepared to leave the Emerald Palace tonight.” Kaz tsked. “I doubt she’ll make it two feet out the building without our help. Solves all of my problems.”

Without another word, Inej slipped out of the room, leaving the boys to fight. Through the walls, she heard muffled shouting.

“How could you? You act like you have nothing you believe in but really you are so terrible that you’ve made yourself your own Saint!” Jespers voice was desperate, filled with rage. The betrayal he felt was clear even though he was muffled. He sniffed. “Put too much faith in that saint and he’ll kill your friends.”

Inej cringed, hating the harsh truths her friend was sending toward her boss. She had always known partnership with Kaz would mean conflict, but it also meant freedom. She and Jesper often commented on their cold-hearted boss. “We are both too good for him.” Jesper would laugh as he said it, but now it seemed to be a reason to leave. But where would they go? When it came to Kaz Brekker, no one was better, and no one was worse.

One thing was for certain, Inej was not going to let her friend die. She had just pulled Y/N up from the grave, and she’d be damned if she let Kaz Brekker push her back in. If he was so certain the girl would be dead by tomorrow, she’d get to her before then. She didn’t have time for Kaz’s lectures and Jesper’s shouting. There was a life at stake. She begged the Saints to help her, but deep down she knew that this was up to her and her knives. If Inej couldn’t save Y/N, the Wraith would.

When she reached the Emerald Palace, a nauseous feeling spread throughout her stomach. She willed her hands to stop shaking, but the tremor remained. She reached the window after carefully checking her surroundings and gasped at what she saw. Nothing remained in Y/N’s room but a white letter and dark ash, both standing out against the gray stone floor. Inej frowned in confusion. So, she is gone. Where could she be?

Y/N was a smart girl, she could be out of Ketterdam by now. However, she had barely had any human contact and had been drugged and manipulated for years. If she was not already found by Pekka Rollins, she could have already been killed on the street. But no one knew who she was, and only Pekka and the Crows knew what she truly looked like. She had become one huge question.

Suddenly, Inej remembered something.. Specifically, a conversation she had with Y/N not long ago.

Inej, this might be the worst thing I’ve ever made. She had said, a fire in her eyes.

Then why are you smiling? Inej replied.

Look! Y/N had pulled a thin glass bottle of a swirling liquid and a small flower out from behind her back. She then poured a drop of the bottle on the flower, which disintegrated into a pile of ash within seconds.

Saints. Inej was amazed.

Wild, huh? Footsteps came from the stairwell in the corner of the room. Shit. Inej, go. Inej hesitated. Go! He’ll see you!

Now, looking at the large pile of ash on the floor of the room, Inej realized what had happened.

“Saints,” She whispered, tears forming in her eyes. “She’s drunk it.”

She heard footsteps approaching in the alley, and immediately grabbed two of her knives, ready to protect herself.

“Easy,” Jesper appeared, holding his hands out toward her. “It’s just me.”

Inej lowered her knives as she stared back at him. “We’re too late, Jes. She’s gone.”

He laughed, nervous. “No, she wouldn’t.” He lowered himself down to the window. “No.”

Inej stood up and looked up at the stars, praying to any Saint that she could think of that she wasn’t dead. That her friend was out there somewhere. Alive. “Jesper, we need to get out of here.”

“But,” Jesper paused, his voice weak. “She was just here.”

“She’s not anymore.” Inej looked at him with pity. She could tell how much the girl had meant to him. “I’m sorry.”

“She was just here.” He repeated, voice cracks littering his words.

Inej grabbed his hand, forcing him out of this frozen state. “I know, Jes. I’m sorry.”

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey fanfic #jesper fahey imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows x reader #jesper fahey x you

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

All flavours of wrong (part 1)

Masterlist Part 2

Pairing: Loki x Reader (gender neutral) (reader gets called princess and Queen mockingly, but it can have no gender connotations, just as in a joke).

Summary: You got an arranged marriage with the firstborn prince of Asgard, inheritor of the crown, God of Thunder. But your heart has other plans, that your brain cannot yet comprehend. And on Loki’s side it’s not getting easy either.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: Sexual tension (a lot). And honestly not much more? Mentions of blood.

I used prompt #293 and prompt #279 from @creativepromptsforwriting to take me out of a block, so thank you so much to this page, it’s incredibly useful! I recommend all writers to check it out.

“Thor”, whispered Loki. But since his four failed attempts at calling him discreetly went wrong, he stepped on his foot under the table, making him spill wine all over his trousers.

“For Gods’ sake, brother, what do you want?”.

“Well, finally. Are you ignoring me? I’ve been trying to get your attention all dinner”.

“Yes, of course I’ve been ignoring you”, said as if it were obvious. It wasn’t.

“Why?”, Loki asked, trying to not sound hurt.

“You know why”, muttered under his breath, faking a smile when his gaze met his mother’s. “And shut up, we’re not supposed to talk if Allfather is not here yet”.

“Look, if it’s because I set on fire your History books, get over it, it’s not like you were doing great with that anyways”.

“You… you did what? It was you?”.

“Yes, of course. Oh, you didn’t know. Well, what are you ignoring me for, then? Ah, I know. Is it because I broke the…”.

“How many things of mine have you been destroying lately?”, Thor raised his voice slightly.

“Boys, enough”, interrupted Frigga. “Cut it off, your Father will be here soon”.

The siblings went back to their plates, and Loki kept stealing glances at his brother, trying to figure out what was wrong. Thor was nervous; his leg kept bouncing and bouncing, he barely touched his food (which was very suggestive, given that he usually ate it all in two mouthfuls), and he was refilling his cup with the strongest wine of the table, as if he needed to loosen up for something. Loki decided it was better off to just pay attention to what would come next. It was evident his Father would be bringing the thing that made Thor so nervous.

And then it hit him; it was already June.

The previous year Odin announced the possibility of an arranged marriage to whoever was winning on the competition for the throne, if he hadn't gotten anywhere near a possible royal companion. Thor was winning, by far; of course. And he didn’t show any partner, or even the possibility of a future partner, so no wonder why he was so nervous.

Loki went back to his plate, not sure how to feel. Annoyed, that was for sure. He knew he wasn’t going to be King (at least not until his brother died, if he didn’t die first), but the preparations for his inheritance got there faster than he expected. It was all too quick. And the disappointment grew bigger the more he thought of it. His father was not even giving him the chance to get better in the competition, and instead he just assumed it was Thor who’d win. Frustrating. Obvious, but still frustrating.

The doors opened and a young and bright warrior followed the footsteps of Odin. He, with a smile from ear to ear, waited until getting the attention of everyone, and, directly looking into Thor’s eyes, introduced you with your full name and current social status. Loki couldn’t stop staring with his lips slightly parted.

That was it. That was what annoyed him the most. His brother got to marry that.

He just couldn’t believe his eyes. He blinked fast to see if there was something deceiving his perception, if maybe his whole family arranged a joke to him, if maybe that little warrior was an illusion casted by his Mother to laugh at how unfortunate he must have been looking at that moment. At the moment he realized his brother was marrying the perfect partner for Loki. You were, at least in the physical sense, his literal type. He was baffled.

And that didn’t go unnoticed by Thor either, who stole a glance from him and chuckled mockingly. Loki went red of embarrassment and tried his best to hide from you, to avoid your gaze, but he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He felt hypnotized, and bothered. You didn’t look at him. You looked everywhere but him. You were amazed by the palace, by everyone around you. It was obvious you were not familiar with a royal life.

“You seem bewildered, brother”, Thor whispered in his ear.

“And you don’t seem as astonished as you should, brother”, he answered with levels of sarcasm in his tone he didn’t even know he had.

“I shouldn’t, this is merely formal”.

“You’re marrying them. It’s not entirely formal. It’s a whole future and family”, Loki discussed, but he knew his brother didn’t care about it enough. His brother didn’t even want the throne that badly, yet he was the one getting it. More and more frustration flowed through Loki’s veins. He kept staring at you with a frown. “Besides, look at that piece of art”.

He looked so tough, so serious, until you stared back. No, you didn’t even stare. You looked up and found his eyes. He quickly softened his expressions as you gifted him a gentle smile. His heart skipped a beat.

And just with a smile he knew, he was completely fucked.

Loki closed his eyes and shut his fists as hard as he could, trying to focus and concentrate only on what he was supposed to. The spell.

But you were looking, and it was hard.

A week passed by, and you were already living in the palace, bonding with your future husband and trying to learn as much as possible from the new life you would acquire once the wedding passed. You met him everywhere; in the halls, on the meals, on the trainings, on the classes; everywhere. He had no means to escape you. Nor did he want to. But he couldn’t get used to that horrible and sweet feeling of his chest getting tighter, face warmer and balance unsteadier when he saw you.

“You’ve got this, Loki. We’ve been over this”, Frigga said from the other side of the training room. “Just remember what we practiced yesterday”. But the only thing Loki remembered from yesterday was when he was trying to train that same spell and you were, at the same time, practicing your archery skills outside. Sweaty. Tired. Ecstatic. Smiley. Red.

He opened his eyes and dropped his arms, completely giving up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do even a simple spell in front of you.

“What is it that’s distracting you so much, son? You have your head too full for this”, Frigga commented, getting closer to him.

“I’m simply tired, Mother. Don’t worry about it, had a poor night of sleep”.

“Well, get it together for this afternoon. We’re trying again after you get some rest, alright?”.

“Yes, Mother”.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation prince Loki and the Queen had. You were way too focused on how uncomfortable the clothes you had to wear were in you. You could barely breathe, and had to fix your posture to avoid choking. Besides, you could feel prince Thor’s eyes on you, and somehow it made you extremely uncomfortable.

You knew you would marry him. Then why couldn’t you at least fake a little bit of interest in him?

You redirected your attention to prince Loki, once again, and the corset was not the only thing that made your breathing harder. Gods, and for the Nine Realms, the prince’s training clothes were something else. Not even compared to Thor’s tank top and weird-looking shorts; Loki’s were almost made exactly for him and his silhouette. Black leather pants and top covering him almost entirely, tight even where it shouldn’t be that tight. Gold endings everywhere and little patterns in his long sleeves and trousers; details that only made it harder for you to not look. But you didn’t even know where to look, if you looked.

Well, you knew exactly where you should’ve been looking. To your side. The blonde and huge man with the big hammer that promised you a crown, a throne and a good place for your family to live in.

You shook your head, and got up to make yourself some tea, hoping the wrong thoughts would fall off your brain and you’d finally come to your senses.

Once you made it to the kitchen, you realized you shouldn’t have gotten there by your own. Unable to get used to the fact that if you wanted some tea you should ask for the maids to make it for you (as with everything, even the clothes you would wear, the foods you’d eat, the way the bed should be made, and an infinite etcetera), you ignored it and put the kettle on the fire.

You tried to reach for the tea box on the countertop, and stood on your toes, failing to even touch it with the tips of your fingers. As you turned around to look for a chair to climb to, you blundered against the God of Mischief’s chest.

“Oh, dear, I’m so sorry”, he apologized, taking a step back. “I was about to get the tea box for you”. You felt yourself completely red.

“It’s… it’s fine, thank you. I’m sorry” you stuttered nervously, with the echoing feeling of his torso against your arms and chest, making you blush even more. You wondered if he did that accidentally.

He smirked slightly and reached for the box effortlessly, making deep eye contact. Was he… was he flirting, somehow? you asked yourself. No, of course he wasn’t. That would be a hundred percent inappropriate, and he was completely appropriate and polite all the time. Even when he shouldn’t have. So, what was that about? Did he usually look at people like that?

“Breaking some rules, I see?”, he added after a painful minute of silence in where you chose the tea and mug. You turned around and realized he was still staring.

“What?”.

“You shouldn’t be the one making the tea, you know”.

“Yes, I know”, you answered calmly, trying to not show the tremble in your voice. Just the presence of that God in the same room made you feel… tiny. Weak. Maybe in a good way. No, definitely in a bad way; he shouldn’t be making you feel anything, for that matter. “And we shouldn’t be in the same room all alone”.

“Are you kicking me out?”.

“Just stating a fact”.

“Hm”.

“And offering you some illegal tea”.

He smiled. You were way too good for Thor, he thought. You would be bored if you married him. You had the trouble spark in your eyes and Loki was the perfect companion for that. It was so evident you were made for each other; then why would his parents think you would be better off with Thor? He was still clueless at how they could’ve made such an imprudent and blind decision.

“I’d love to, princess”.

You chuckled. “Princess? Really?”.

“Not good?”.

“No”. He lowered his gaze and put a strand of hair behind an ear. “Which kind would you like?”.

He stepped closer to you; so much closer that you could feel his slow breathing grazing your forehead. You tried your best to not rise your head and sink in his sharp features. He grabbed with two fingers a tea bag from the box you were holding. Your hands were trembling slightly. He then got a little bit closer (even though you didn’t think that was possible), slowly stretched his arm and picked up a mug that was conveniently behind you. As soon as he stepped away, you realized you held your breath the whole time.

“Are you alright? You look nervous”, he mocked, which only made you even more embarrassed.

“I suggest you stay in your place, prince Loki”, you said, trying to get back to reality. It was not okay. You could not flirt in any way or form with your future husband’s brother. Wrong. Wrong! All flavours of wrong.

“Suggestion denied”, he said with the same troublesome smirk from before, that still hadn’t wiped off his face. “And you can call me Loki”.

“I will not”, you said, filling his mug with the boiling water. “And you’ll call me by my full name, as you should”.

“You know, in our actual position… you should be the one recieving my orders”, he said, lowering his already deep voice. You swallowed, but tried to keep a determined and confident look on your face.

“Which are...?”. You knew you’d regret even asking, but he was right. He still was your prince, and you still were a mere warrior. He raised an eyebrow.

“Call me Loki”.

“Or?”.

“Well…”, he whispered raspily. You felt he was about to step closer to you again, but the voice of one of his tutors interrupted his flirting.

“What on the Realm are you two doing in here without an escort?”.

“Terribly sorry”, you muttered while you rapidly left the kitchen. Loki stood there, observing you leave and sighed. His tutor looked at him with disapproval and he simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled innocently.

But he had already decided, you were going to be his.

You couldn’t help but to wander the palace as much as you could. The place was enormous and nothing compared to anything you’ve seen before. You only knew the tiny houses you grew up in Asgard, and the occasional visit to other Realm’s palace in the middle of a battle.

But you had to be careful. Nobody would approve you nosing everywhere, much less at those hours of the night. But, well, it was the perfect time, because the palace would not only be empty, but also illuminated by only the soft glimmering of the candlelights. It was gorgeous.

You roamed around through the hallways, until the sharp sound of a fall stopped you dead on your tracks. The sound was followed by an “ugh, fuck” from a particularly familiar voice, and your curiosity grew bigger. What was prince Loki doing at those hours in… the library, was it? You thought, as you tried to read the sign in the doorframe. All signs had to be in old Norse, of course. And you could barely speak it, let alone read it in the dark.

Peeping from the entrance, you got to see what the prince was doing. With a big and dusty book on one hand and a frown in his face, he was trying to make a pile of books from the floor levitate.

He shut his eyes close and once again, pointed at the books with the palm of his hand. A green light surrounded the objects and two of the three books got suspended in the air. With effort, prince Loki pushed harder upwards to make the third book levitate too, but soon got tired and the rest of the pile fell to the wooden floor again, making the same sound that brought you there in the first place.

He then left the open book he was holding over one of the tables and tried again, this time with both of his hands. In around five minutes he got to make the three books fly above his head, as if they were dancing. His eyes glittered and an ear-to-ear smile lit his face. You’ve never seen him smile so innocently, so childishly before.

How adorable, you thought, as you leaned on the doorframe. But the smile on his face got interrupted when you sloped wrongly over the door and fell down with a sound that felt more like a scream than a subtle gasp.

Loki ran to see where that sound came from, and found your flustered face on his feet, trying your best to not look too embarrassed by the fact that you were hovering, or even spying on him.

“May I help you with something, princess?”, he held your hand to help you up, but didn’t let it out when you were already on your feet.

“Thank you. And, please, don’t call me princess”, you said, freeing yourself of his hand.

“‘Please, don’t call me princess’? Darling, you’re begging for the wrong things in here”. You got chills from the seductive tone of his voice, and tried to ignore it through a laugh. There was nothing else to do but to hope he wouldn’t notice how blushed you’d gotten.

“It’s not appropriate that you keep flirting with me, Mischief”.

“I like that nickname”.

“Did you even listen to me?”.

“Yes, I know. You don’t want me to flirt with you because you’re afraid of being inappropriate. But, between us, which one was the one stalking the other one in the middle of the night?”.

“I wasn’t stalking. I was simply observing and hoping you wouldn’t notice”.

“That’s the dictionary definition of stalking, my dear”.

You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him. He would know if you lied; and that’s probably why he kept flirting. Because he knew you didn’t mean it when you corrected him. You liked it. You truly enjoyed it.

“What are you doing?”, you asked after a while, pointing at the floating books that were now almost touching the roof.

“I really need to focus for this one in particular. If I need silence and emptiness, this place and time are usually a good idea. Unless, of course, there’s a little spy falling off the doorframe”.

“Sorry about that”, you chuckled, and he smirked.

“It’s fine, I basically finished it anyways”.

“Looks like you mastered it, though”, you complimented. Loki looked at you with a little smile.

“Well, I…”. He was about to answer you, but you reached out for a strand of hair on his face and moved it behind his ear. The books fell off abruptly, and Loki did his best to cover you from their impact, covering your whole body with an embrace. He didn’t let go of the hug, but looked at your face with shame. “I’m truly sorry. I got.. surprised, I guess”.

“Don’t worry. And sorry, didn’t mean to make you nervous”.

“Nervous?”.

“Or surprised, whatever”.

“You’re right, though”. He smiled gently once more and lowered his gaze. “You make me feel things, little warrior”.

“Prince Loki, you really shouldn’t…”.

“I can say it, you don’t need to answer it”. You sighed and gave him a knowing look. “If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop. If not, let me flirt with you. I don’t need you to flirt back”. You laughed at his proposition and he stared, waiting for a confirmation.

“Fine. But don’t call me princess. You make it sound diminishing”.

“As you wish, my Queen”.

“Oh my God”.

“Precisely”.

You both giggled and tried to keep it down just in case somebody else was awake. The moonlight making its way through the gigantic windows of the library were the only lightning, and the sharp features of the God became even more fascinating by the contrast. His eyes looked deeper. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you with them. You felt naked at his eye, and maybe not in a bad sense.

"What are you thinking about?", he asked after a while. You were both in silence, contemplating each other. Oddly, it wasn't uncomfortable. With Thor, on the other hand, you only felt uncomfortability; even if it wasn't an awkward situation, you knew you were not welcomed by him. Maybe not even his friendship.

"I'm… I think I should get going".

"Why?" he asked, and immediately grabbed your hand. "Stay".

"It's late. Thor might awake and not find me there".

"So?".

"Let's not cause a scandal, Mischief. I have to do what I have to do".

"Maybe you don't have to", he insisted, and you rolled your eyes. With a sigh, he let go off your hand. "I understand. I know you'll be better off like this".

"Yes, I will", you said, faking confidence. Maybe it was your sleep deprived brain that couldn't see right, maybe it was the sudden urge to do what you wanted instead of what you needed; either way, you lingered your way out.

He waited for you to go, but you stayed a little longer, delaying the sneaking back to bed with the man you didn't want to be with. You just needed one reason, only one reason to stay.

"Good night, darling", he said after a while. He knew better than to ruin your future and reputation for his selfish desires. He didn’t want to let you go, he wanted you to be his and only his. But he knew better than to make you a part of his brotherly quarrels. He appreciated you enough to keep you out of it.

"Good night, Loki".

He smiled as you walked away. As much as he shouldn’t have, he got you to call him by just his name.

Not even two weeks passed by and everyone around him already suspected the obvious; the mischievous and rebellious brother was trying to make Thor’s partner fall in love with him. What not everyone knew was that it was completely working.

The stolen glances from up the shoulders in every meeting, every dinner, every event. The long walks around the Gardens, talking about literature, magic and general life. The trainings in one-to-one combat with him that lasted a bit longer than with the rest of the trainers. And you couldn’t help but smile at everything he said or did; it was so much harder than one could think, to hide such thing from Queen Frigga; she saw it all and knew better than everyone in romance. She also knew better than anyone both of her sons, and it was evident how they both felt about you. Because Thor’s stone cold indifference wasn’t one to go unnoticed as well.

In dinner, Loki was again sitting by Thor’s side, and couldn’t help but to chatter about the subject that bothered him so much.

“They’s late, brother; you’ll marry a terribly mannered warrior”, he mocked. Thor rolled his eyes and contraatacked.

“At least I’m marrying them”.

“You say it as if I wanted to”.

“Please”, Thor scoffed.

“Marriage is a boundary. I merely desire them”.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to hold their hand from the Throne, or to put a crown on their head”, mocked Thor. Loki sushed him, because he was completely right. Loki would’ve loved to gently caress your hair and kiss your pink cheeks, to fidget with your ring as he held you in the mornings and nights. Gods, he was lost.

“I do not, anyways. But if you plan on borrowing me wedding night and spare you the annoyance you’d feel by bedding them… I agree”.

“Will you keep on making sexual jokes to avoid real feelings all your life or do you grow up after the 1100 year?”.

You opened the door and got in with your head low and breathing unsteady, embarrassed and apologizing. The princes stopped the chattering and followed you with their eyes. Loki didn’t even hide his expressions of pure and raw desire. Your hair was a disaster, and you were still in your ripped warrior clothes, covered in mud, blood and scratches. The dagger strapped to your thigh was, too, covered in blood.

“Hot”, said Loki, unintentionally louder than he should have. Dear, he loved when you looked like a threatening mess.

“What?”, you asked in a breath, still agitated.

“Eh, hold. Hold the door, I meant”, he corrected himself (everyone was looking, even the guests, and he knew better than to be that inappropriate on certain occasions). But you knew exactly what he said and smirked slightly, just enough for him to notice.

“You were saying… you didn’t want to?”, whispered Thor just before Loki got up and walked through the tables. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do, but if he said ‘hold the door’ he had to keep it verosimil, didn’t he?

As he walked past you, slowing down, he whispered “library, tonight”. And then left the dining room, leaving an even more blushed you to imagine what could he possibly want from you. And your imagination was not precisely innocent.

You took a deep breath and held it for a minute before getting inside. After wandering around the bookshelves, you noticed the room was still empty. Maybe too early? It was barely midnight. Everyone was already asleep and the Palace was, as every night, dead silent.

You sat on the couch and caressed the texture with the tip of your fingers. Was he coming? Did he say it just to make you blush in lunch? Perhaps he was messing with you. He was the God of Lies and Mischief after all, wasn’t he?

After ten minutes you stood up and decided to look for something to read. You wouldn’t be able to sleep anyways, so might as well make the most of the night; with or without prince Loki.

You walked slowly, reading carefully every title. If something had your attention, you’d read it on that beautiful velvet couch, in front of the fireplace. Even grab a mug of coffee, to keep you up until you finish your readings. The plan sounded marvelous, but you couldn’t help but to feel disappointed you wouldn’t spend the night with him.

You weren’t expecting to actually get physical, of course. He was not your fiancé and would never be. He was barely a lover. Not even that. He was the man you loved and desired, yes. But merely platonic. It wouldn’t go any further. It couldn’t go any further.

But you were expecting to have that precious alone time he gifted you in the nights, where everything was off and both of you were the only flame alive in the whole Kingdom. The glances he threw at you, the smiles he drew to let you know you were appreciated; you were wanted, you were loved by him.

As you reached for one of the books, a bigger hand wrapped around yours and the book, making you gasp.

“Hello”, he whispered in your ear, earning a shiver from you. Just that, he didn’t need to do any more than that to set on all your alarms and get your face redder and hotter than ever.

You turned around and smiled. He didn’t move away; in fact, he raised both his arms to your sides and locked you between him and the bookshelf.

“Seems like you won’t let me go away, won’t you?”.

“I don’t think you would even if I gave you the opportunity”.

“And how are you so sure about that?”.

“You came here, as I asked you to”.

“So?”.

“Are you actually going to play dumb?”.

You both laughed slightly, still not wanting to make a single noise. He got a few inches closer, and you did too. You raised a hand and fondled his hair. Moved your hand all the way from up his ear to down his neck. He slowly slipped down one hand to your waist and the other one to your collarbone, making the same deep eye contact he made with such lust; that desire he always looked at you, but amplified to a hundred and ten percent.

Now both of your hands were cupping his face. He was warm. And smiley. And… God, gorgeous. Godly gorgeous, as he always was. You traced with your fingers his cheekbones, his jaw, his neck. You sighed.

“May I kiss you?” He whispered, getting even closer. His breathing was slow and you could feel it on your face. His question was barely audible, yet so strongly loud to you.

May he kiss you? May you kiss him? You weren’t supposed to be even that close with him. You weren’t allowed. You shouldn’t look at him the way you did. Or touch him the way you wanted to. But there he was, asking to kiss you. And you had no other words in your vocabulary else than;

“Please”.

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