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kmenkea · 1 year ago

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Bloodlust - Part 2

Summary: For once, Astarion and Leeith are away from fights and constant danger, so of course they would use this time to rob a small shop together, as friends do! so while Shadowheart and Lae'zel are away, doing some dirty job, the vampire and the drow have their fun among the druids of the grow. Astarion realises this is also the perfect moment for his proposition. Mostly fluff, character building and showing a slice of their life. A bit of flirting and innuendos (and chapter 4 will be a proper smut)

A/N: I've been told by my beta reader that sometimes some details might be missed if you haven't played or are familiar with the game. I'm not sure this is something I care too much about fixing tbh, but I would say that as long as you have a general idea, you should be fine.

Also, as always, I'm open to all kinds of feedback, be it a mistake I didn't catch or if Astarion is too ooc or whatever.

Word count: 5.3k (wtf, when did I write this much. I wish writing a thesis was this easy)

Read on AO3

I didn't doodle anything for this entry of the fanfic, but I wanted to show my Tav's and Astarion's matching fit from the start of the game. (I've got Minthara's armour now and he's got a slutty crop top with funny boots, but the stats are just too good to care about style)

Attention spoilers for act 1 and a bit of 2

Leeith and all her companions were sitting in a circle on the ground, a map sprawled in front of them, with various heavy objects pinning the edges: Lae’zel’s sword, a bottle of wine, other trinkets, some were scattered around, indicating where they were and some places of interest around the region. Their best bet was finding this Karlach Wyll and some others had spoken about. Slay her if she proves dangerous… though what Wyll defined as evil, could have very well been one of her allies. The drow had taken the decision to avoid the blighted village for the time being, concentrating on exploring as much as she could before jumping head first into a cove of goblin. They might have been weak when alone, but she wasn’t sure of how many there were around and she didn’t want to find out anytime soon, not through direct approach at least. She had only edged on that area, noticing not only bodies lining the streets, but also archers atop the roofs. Encircling them from the north was going to be a lot safer and less expected. But first, they needed supplies and to take care of some matters.

“Gale, Wyll. Gather supplies for camp. We’re running low.” She didn’t even look up, moving a small stone on the map.

“Oh, again? When will we be allowed to join in? I’m tired of being a maid.” Erupted Gale, slamming his hands on the ground.

“You will once I’ll be in need of a wizard. Besides, I need someone to defend our belongings here at camp. Some of the children of the grove seem to have taken a liking to robberies.” She turned her face to Shadowheart and was about to speak, but Wyll interrupted.

“They’re just children, Leeith. It’s probably a game.” The drow was about to explain her reasoning, when Gale, almost screaming, barged in the conversation.

“Will you have us defend the camp from children? That’s ridiculous, most don’t plot or scheme from birth like your people.” The drow looked up from under her brow, staring at him with a gaze that could petrify bears.

“You know the reputation of my people well, don’t you? Then you’d do your best not to make me repeat myself.” The wizard huffed and got up. Wyll looked between the two and, with a sigh, ran after him.

“Good, he is gone. Wizards cannot be trusted.” Hissed Lae’zel, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t anger him or have him on our bad side. We need all the help we can get to deal with this and wizards are powerful people.” Shadowheart shook her head in disapproval.

“I am not so sure I trust him. The man is too full of himself, I’m afraid he might turn on us if a chance to gain more power presents itself.” Leeith took a deep breath, glad the situation was over. She hated having to deal with in-group fighting. She glanced at Astarion, giving him the chance to comment, but he was just staring blankly at the map.

“Well, better keep planning. So-” Leeith took a moment to reorganise her thoughts. “Lae’zel and Shadowheart, without going at each other throats while I’m not there, I want you to deal with the druid’s corpse. What was her name, Nattie? I’d rather the druids didn’t find out we killed one of their own.” The drow remembered how that bitch tried to “cure” them. Ceremorphosis or not, she wasn’t going to let a tree fucker even think about killing her.

“What should we do with the body? We can’t really drag it outside.” Whispered Shadowheart, looking over Gale and Wyll.

“Feed it to a bear for all I care- actually don’t. The druids can speak with those.” Leeith massaged her temples, trying to think of a way for her companions to remain hidden in the middle of the whole settlement.

“That goblin cave.” Chipped in the Gith. “There was a tunnel connecting that room with a cave. We can enter from the outside, throw the body in there and come out from the same opening without even putting foot in the grove.”

“That’s genius. Even if she’s found, the fault will go all to the goblins.” Leeith smiled, nodding in approval. “Astarion and I will also go gather some supplies. If it all goes well, we won’t even spend a silver. We’ll meet back in two hours, here.” She folded the map and put it back in her bag. From another pocket, she pulled out a few vials with a red liquid inside. She gave two to each of them. “I brewed these healing potions this morning. Hope you don’t need them.” They both collected their gift. Lae’zel sheathed her sword and, without one more word, began walking away. The cleric cursed and ran to catch up. The drow waited for both of them to be gone, fumbling stuff inside her backpack. Once out of sight, she took out a bigger vial, handing it out to Astarion.

“This is a much more potent brew. It will kick the wind out of you, but it’s almost strong enough to bring you back from the dead. I only had the ingredients for one, so don’t waste it.” The drow was back on her feet, offering her hand to the elf.

“Maybe if you’ll give me enough my fangs will fall out and my heart beat again.” He accepted it and graciously stood up, light like a ballerina. “I assume you kept the lion’see share for yourself?”

“No, I don’t plan on getting hit, I don’t need potions.” She walked towards the forest. “But if you tell me there’s a chance you’ll stop being a vampire, I’ll gladly take it back. I’d rather have you with fangs.”

“I see you're taking a liking to being bitten.”

“No, I wouldn’t say so. My whole right shoulder hurts from yesterday night.” She extended her arm, unable to straighten it upwards past her head. “My reasons are my own.” she gave him a wink.

They walked quietly from that moment on, both taking great care in making as little noise as possible; both their ears attentive to any noise. This zone should have been safe from goblins or wild animals, but it didn’t hurt to stay on alert. As of now, the only thing they could hear was the chirping of birds: the drow listened in, but they weren’t speaking of anything that interested her, just of nests, berries, worms and annoying squirrels. The green foliage was casting its shade over them. The green tint wasn’t noticeable on her, but Astarion’s skin and hair blended with nature, capturing all its colours. Leeith remained in the shadows, annoyed at how strong the sun was, how it made her eyes squint in pain and her cheeks burn. The vampire was scared of it, flinching when a strong ray of light hit his eyes, worried that at any time he could turn to dust. But then he’d look up and smile, enjoying the warmth hitting his face. The light of the sun looked pretty on him, bouncing off his perfectly sculpted curls; it was so hard to believe he hadn't seen it in more than two centuries.

They were nearing the main path now, soon they would have seen the gate that divided the grove from the rest of the world. The first thing they felt was the stink of rotting carcasses. Walking closer, one could see the corpses of the goblins they had slaughtered still lingered on the sides. The druids didn't care enough to bring them somewhere else since the whole place would shut down soon; the tieflings weren't going to do anything for the people that wanted them gone.

The pair waited a few seconds while the guards lifted the gate up. Some tieflings smiled at them as they went about their day, bowing their heads in respect to the people that saved them. She ignored them and turned right towards a lift.

“Leeith, the merchant is that way.” The vampire pointed down the main street, both his eyebrows were raised in a dumbfounded expression.

“Thank you for explaining the obvious. I want to visit someone first.” She urged him to follow her. “It flashed in my mind just now.”

“I hope you don’t get more of these unplanned flashes in the future.” They jumped on the wooden platform and, after some threatening sounds of broken machinery, they reached the grove where the ritual was taking place. The ancient humming of druids was powerful. They could feel the magic on their skin, making their hair stand up. Even the nature around them was greener, attracted by the chanting, every living being fused together by the spell. It felt like one slip of the mind would have united them with everything around them, forever lost to the forest. She shivered and walked forward, focusing on her breathing and the rocks below her, shielding her ears from the song of nature.

They walked past the lift, following a broken down path towards the beach. That was their destination. It was a small little bay surrounded by cliffs, barely large enough to fit four people standing side by side. Some dead fish were on the sand and, more importantly, a bear. Leeith had talked to him once before, but couldn’t go to visit him again since time was strict, always running from one fight to the other. Finally, after days of obligations and chores, she had the perfect excuse for a day off. The animal was lying down, head between his arms, barely acknowledging her presence.

“I don’t think we should walk up to a bear.” Hissed Astarion quietly, grabbing her elbow. “Are you mad?”

“Shh. Stay back, alright. It will be fine.” She freed herself and, after taking a few steps, kneeled down on the sand.

“Hey.” Her voice was soothing as she whispered to the bear. “How are you doing, friend?” The bear looked back at her, raising his ears.

“Still nothing… still nothing.” Cried the bear, shaking his large head. Leeith extended her hand, but the animal withdrew, groaning a warning.

“He’ll be back I’m sure.” Leeith glanced at Astarion, waiting behind her with a hand on his crossbow, ready to fire. She glared at him and pointed at the weapon, urging him to stop.

“No… the woods have gone dark. There's too many predators lately - even for master.” The bear hid his face again. “He’ll never be back.” The drow moved a bit closer, scratching the animal behind the ear. He didn’t respond, his grief too strong to bite her hand or enjoy the pet. She let out a sigh of defeat yet again, and scooted away before the beast could snap. Leeith had figured out that the master he was talking about was probably the first druid that was missing and everyone wanted back. She wanted more information about the guy and, more importantly, what he could do - or would do - if they did save him. On top of that, she would hate to leave the poor animal sad like this. Slowly, She stood up and walked backwards, putting some distance between her and the bear.

“We can go. I just wasted time.” Mumbled the drow, annoyed that the bear didn’t tell her anything.

“Who would have thought talking to a bear wasn’t the best of flashes.” Complained Astarion, marching past her. “I’ll be directing this affair now, less you go and start chatting with every spider in this forest.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, elf. Animals can be where they want, no one caring about their presence, overhearing the most important of discussions. My queen used her abilities to talk to spiders, that’s how she managed to rule for centuries in the underdark: she knew who in her court was going to go against her first.” She paused her rant, turning her face to one side in a frown. “Not this bear but… few things tug at my heartstrings like animals and beasts.” She murmured on her shoulder.

"Aw, a drow with a big fuzzy heart. How cute. Just like a tarantula." He placed a hand on his heart. Leeith scoffed, letting the argument fall. She didn't want to say that one of the reasons she enjoyed the vampire’s friendship was because he reminded her of a feral cat that everyone threw rocks at.

Swallowing her pride, she got close to his side again to go over their plan and make sure everything was ready. The lift was still as shaky as they moved upwards. No matter how convenient it seemed, she was not going to use it anymore. Her legs were worth much more than the five minutes she would save by not walking. In any case, they were near their destination now.

"Good luck, blood sucker." She slapped his shoulders and casted a guidance spell, then he moved away, slipping unnoticed in the shadows. Leeith entered the cave system. Every object was covered in a thin layer of brown dust, from all the feet and tails kicking the ground. The waterfalls were a constant grumble in her ears, deafening almost. The voices of the people couldn't hope to surpass the noise, no matter how many there were. It almost reminded her of home, with that humid air and low light. The only thing missing were the horrible screeches of an unknown animal coming from the blackest recesses. Not that there wasn't anything to fear, mostly those children, eyeing everyone's purse and the merchant, after the same prize. Though, It was going to be a very unlucky day for the halfling.

The drow moved closer with a smile. There was a small group of tieflings stocking up on supplies and trying to sell off some of their scraps. The merchant was bored of hearing them banter, trying to lock him in an unfavourable deal. It was the first time in her life that someone smiled upon seeing her.

"Ahh, my favourite customer, how can I be of help?" He opened his arms and showed an earnest smile. The tieflings scoffed at her for having cut the line. She eyed them, almost about to ignore them, but this many eyes around would have proved a challenge even for the rogue.

"Look at me another time and I'll be sure to find out if tiefling tails regrow like lizards." She placed a hand on her rapier, and motioned them to go away. Most of the group started walking away, but one of them moved forward, unsheathing his sword. Before anything could happen, the halfling stepped in.

"Hey, hey. I don't want blood spilled here. I'm sure she'll be quick and then I'll be back to you, ok?" He said at the tiefling, as his companions were trying to make him move away. He spit on the ground, at the drow's feet, then turned around. Leeith was seconds away from blasting his head off, but she remembered about Astarion.

"I need new weapons. This simple steel we carry is starting to prove weak." She said, pointing towards a rack, where some weapons glowed with magic.

"Of course. This is what remains of my finest stock." He walked there with a smile and turned towards her. She looked at her surroundings: no, from here the merchant would have seen Astarion. She needed to be behind the rack, so that he wouldn't need to turn around to his counter. Leeith moved forward, caressing the swords and axes gingerly. She lifted one up.

"What does this do?" As the merchant started to explain all the blade's greatest property and enchantments, the drow glanced past him. There was the vampire, silent as a cat. No one was around to observe what he was doing and, to the tieflings dwelling deep in the cave, he would have looked just like any other customer, interested in the wares the halfling was peddling.

"So are you interested?" He said, capturing her attention again.

"Not really, it doesn't fit my friend's style. I need something more brutal. She uses a shield though, so nothing that cannot be wielded with one hand." Responded the drow, bored. The merchant kept going about a nice dagger he had.

Astarion was grabbing everything he could, shoving potions down his backpack and promptly substituting them with empty bottles and vials. He was very interested in the arrows the man was selling, so he switched them with some normal arrows.

"Is that more to your style?" Interrupted the merchant again.

"No, a dagger is very much too small. I need something like a hammer."

"Oh I've got the perfect one, just behind my counter, let me pick it up." He pointed behind himself with a thumb, then his heel started turning. Panic washed over her for a moment, as Astarion was still well in view. Without thinking, she hit a spear off the rack, so that it fell between them. The halfling kneeled to pick it up, looking at the drow confused.

"Sorry, it just grabbed my attention. I miscalculated the trajectory of my hand." She chuckled, grabbing back the spear. "Could you tell me what this does?" Astarion was nowhere to be seen. He had fled faster than a scared cat. Hopefully he managed to grab something of value.

"Well, this is actually a… normal spear. It's a fine spear, but it doesn't hold any enchantments." Explained the halfling.

"Uh, I guess the glow just came from the stuff around it. Have you got any light armour?" She asked at last.

"Yes actually, this blue gambeson will serve you well. It's protected with magic."

"How much for it?"

"Two hundred gold, last one in stock."

"Mh, a hundred fifty. You wouldn't be here peddling your swords without my group saving your ass at the gate." She touched the gambeson, testing its quality.

"I… one and seventy, I can't go lower."

"Alright, I don't have the time to fight over coppers." While she counted the money, she whistled to grab the attention of the group of tieflings. If the merchant was occupied, he wouldn’t have noticed some of his wares missing. "Oi devils, I'm done here, you can come back!" She screamed. They looked at her suspiciously.

"Aye! All yours again!" Added the halfling, pocketing the gold. The group moved back in only when Leeith went away.

The rendezvous point was the path behind the grove, which led to a beach. They had fought some harpies back there once, but otherwise it was quiet and, more importantly, isolated. She proceeded forward in the caves: at least the sun wouldn’t have burnt her skin nor was there a risk getting stuck on that damned wood contraption. She passed in front of the tiefling child that had tried to scam them with a fake magic ring. Leeith winked at him and raised her thumbs, mockingly. The child scoffed and almost growled, remembering how the drow had stolen his ring as “lesson”. She would have loved to stop and teach him how to properly burglarise and pickpocket, mostly just to rub in his face that she had just sacked the halfling. She picked up the pace a little, still trying not to look suspicious. The drow wasn’t as good as Astarion at slipping between shadows, but her feet were still light and fluid enough to go by. She passed the columns that marked the exit: on the right there was a bard, Alfira or something, the path on the left instead sloped down towards the sea. After a quick glance behind her, she followed it.

Upon arrival on the shore, she didn't see him. Her eyes scanned the harpy feathers still around and the clear waters, with no sign of the vampire. She turned around, sure that he just hadn't arrived yet, but a glimmer, like sun on snow, captured her eyes. There he was, standing high on a small hill, dagger in hand. He smiled, showing his fangs.

"You should pay more attention. I was ready to stab anyone coming in." He rolled the knife between his fingers. She couldn't mask her uneasiness.

"Good luck explaining that to everyone else. I don't think they'd look at you too kindly anymore." She raised her voice lightly.

"True. Few people are as willing as you to trust a vampire." Astarion hid the dagger, then jumped down to her. "This is all I got." He opened his backpack to show many arrows imbued with elemental magic, two or three scrolls and vials of potions or poisons. It wasn't the best loot she’d ever got, but the merchant wasn't carrying much more and they didn't really have a discreet way to carry around a maul.

"It's not a great heist, but we'll make do." She reached into her own backpack. "I bought this for you. Your clothes might look fancy, but I'd rather have them stop blades." The drow showed him the light blue gambeson she had. Astarion smirked and, after taking out a few bottles, he showed her an exact copy of the armour.

"Seems like yours wasn't the last in stock." He said, comparing the two. "I suppose I won't need to give you your money back since I got one on my own."

"I wouldn't have wanted them back anyway. Guess I'll just use it for myself." She shrugged and stuffed it in her backpack. "We'll wear matching outfits, so you won't complain about my fashion sense anymore." She smirked.

“Tks, please. The only thing you can give me that I wouldn't complain about is drow armour, that does look stylish.”

“If we ever go to the underdark, I promise to get you one. But,” She grinned and began walking away. “I’ll go to my house and get my band leader armour, from when I was in service. You’ll be just one step below me, as it should be, surface dweller.” They bickered for a bit more, both insulting each other’s skills and lineage, in a way that could pass as flirting only in the underdark.

“Knowing your people, you probably were a leader only because you’re a woman.” Said the vampire at last.

“And? Yes, I admit, part of the reason I was a squad leader was because I’m a woman, but don’t think I was sitting comfortably at home while shit went down. My rank wasn’t high enough for that.” Her memories went back to those ominous caves and dirty streets, when she had to dodge daggers at every step. Home.

“I imagined an officer would know how to use a sword a bit better than you.” He pointed at the rapier in her scabbard, which to this day had been left unused.

“Your first mistake was thinking I was an officer. I am a-” She stopped, not knowing how much to say. This wasn't something she wanted to share willy-nilly, not even to him. “Let’s say I was in a criminal ring. I operated very much outside of standard law and needed better skills than sword fighting.” She raised her hand, conjuring a small amount of magic. “My commander gave me powers and I pleased her enough to make me a leader.”

“And now that you’re finally free of your boss, you can bark orders at us. How sweet.”

Freedom. It was a strong word he had used. She wasn’t free here. She was supposed to be back. The queen was surely searching for her now. Was the tadpole protecting her from being found, like Astarion? Or was the queen just waiting for the perfect moment to strike and bring her back. The thoughts hurt her head and her anxiety was spiking up. All of this was horrible. The sun hurt her eyes once more. Shit. The drow clenched her fists and jaw. She was going to be back. She had to. All she needed was strength and Lolth’s favour. Fear wasn’t going to twist her heart once more. Her queen had freed her from fear.

“Take my spot if you want. Believe me, staying on top of everything and everyone sucks. Plan rations, plan paths, plan actions, plan strategy… augh. I thank the Spider Queen everyday for making me one of her daughters, because at least I don’t need to waste time sleeping.”

“I think that’s just called being an elf, I don’t sleep either.” He grabbed her shoulders and hunched down to her ear. “Don’t worry, I would be a fine and benign master to you.” He hummed. The drow didn’t flinch, nor redden, though the prospect did sound enticing and, in all fairness, sent a shiver straight down to her core.

“You’ll have to fight for the title, prove that you’re stronger and better than me… times and times again. Backstabbing is second nature where I’m from.” She turned around to face him, pointing his own dagger at his throat. “You should pay more attention.” She gave the knife back from the handle.

“HA! Haha! A dangerous brat, I see. Makes it more exciting.” He put the dagger back under his doublet. The drow studied his face, but his intentions were safely hidden behind a pompous smirk. They stared into each other's eyes for a while. The sound of the waves falling, breaking on the shore filled their ears. Leeith started to grow uneasy, her heart skipping a beat. She was drowning in those waves, her mind lost forever to the waters. Her feet were unsteady, the tension on her shoulders growing and threatening to make her fall. Astarion clearly wanted to say something, the way his lips were slightly parted. Had she done something wrong? She took a half a step back but, quick as a swatting cat, his hand grabbed her wrist. She wanted to pull away, half expecting to get punched in the gut, but… his touch was extremely soft, more like a caress.

“You’re a cheeky pup, are you not?” With that, the tension was broken. Leeith breathed a sigh of relief, until a realisation set in.

“Cheeky pup?” She repeated, bewildered. "I've been called many things: slut, brat, mistress, mommy by one weird guy, but cheeky pup? And here I thought you were about to stab me." She giggled for a bit, covering her mouth with one hand. The elf sucked on his teeth, looking down with a somewhat irritated, but amused, expression.

"I might just call you that more, it fits better than expected.” His eyes lingered on her body, with a gaze that spoke of one thing: desire. She knew it all too well, for the same was written in her eyes.

“I quite liked blood sucker, but I’ll have to find something else. Pet, maybe?” Continued the drow, in an effort to regain her territory and dominion over the conversation. Astarion wasn’t having it, instead both of his hands lingered on her forearms, moving down the palms of her hands. Fuck it, what did she have to lose from letting go of pride for once?

“You know, darling, I’ve been thinking more and more about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared - and I don't mean just that lovely neck of yours.” His index flew upwards, tickling her throat with a soft touch. “I’m growing to like the whole package, honestly, and you clearly like me too, so…”

“So…” She raised her eyebrow; her face was anything but timid.

“Come now, don’t be coy. Your body has already given you away.” He leaned down, so that his lips were barely brushing against Leeith’s ear and neck, grabbing her elbows so that she couldn’t move away.

“I could feel it, you know? As I was getting lost in your neck, your little shakes of excitement.” His fangs barely scraped the skin, earning an exhale from the drow. “You enjoyed it, didnt you?”

Her thoughts went to that night, when she was awakened by a shadow suddenly looming over her during the trance. The revelation of him being a vampire wasn't particularly mind blowing - the only thing the guy was missing was a long bat-like cape -, but it was welcomed. Vampires were as feared in the underdark as in the surface: she would have been able to go a lot higher in the ranks with a creature that powerful to help her.

What she wasn't expecting was the rush of adrenaline that followed the bite. Blood. That was blood. Not of a rat or other beast, but real sentient blood. It filled his mouth and throat so sweetly, like an avalanche of honeyed wine. His mind, his body, all was getting clear as more and more red poured from the drow's veins straight on his tongue. Gods that was spectacular. He wanted to run, fight, gauge someone's eyes out with just his fingers. Pure power was cursing through his long dead veins for the first time in two centuries. He was at peace, content, he wanted to laugh and stare at the sun. Nothing around him existed; he had all that he needed and more. Yes, more. Why stop? He could have killed everyone at camp, satiate his hunger and be free forever. He bit harder and, like ripe grapes, more juice exploded in his mouth. Fear? What was that? He certainly wasn't afraid. He was on top of the fucking world! Fear. Red eyes looming below him, demanding to stop, reaching up to him. Cazador? No matter what, he was still here, still holding him hostage. The hand reached up again. It was pushing him away. He glanced down: the drow's red eyes were pale, half lidded. Dizziness and feebleness overtook him, as her grey hand didn't have the strength to hold onto his shirt anymore. The vampire let go, smiling. The drow's body was shaking under him. She panted heavily, coming down the same high he felt.

The faintest of grins was on her lips when she finally sat up. The vampire was radiant in front of her. She was as blood-drunk as him, having felt his same emotions and thoughts for those few minutes; now they were turning fuzzy and dark, but still the excitement remained.

With a roll of her eyes, Leeith chuckled, returning to the present . She had enjoyed it greatly both the first and second time he had fed on her. “A lady never tells.” She responded, acting believably coy.

“You don’t have to say a thing. I already know how you feel, because I feel it too.” He let her go, straightening his back again to look in her eyes. “We could take an evening to ourselves, get away from camp - get some privacy. I know somewhere quiet, somewhere intimate. Somewhere we can… indulge in each other.” As he spoke, his voice got lower and more soothing.

“A less trusting person might think this all sounds very suspicious.” An earnest smile painted her lips. She absolutely knew she had him in her grasp, but wasn’t expecting the pieces to fall her way so quickly.

“Haha, thank goodness we’re all such good, trusting friends, then. On my honour, the only thing in my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He grinned, placing a hand on his chest as if to swear an oath.

“I suppose one night, no strings attached… that sounds good to me.”

“Wonderful. I just hope we don’t have to wait too long before we can steal away.” The vampire whined, before returning to his hushed, sultry tone. “But once we can, I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

“Quite the big commitment. I hope you won't change your mind.” She crossed her arms

“I wouldn’t dare. I told you, you deserve a reward. I am so very pleased with what you gave me.” Astarion got hold of her hand and raised it to his lips, placing a silky kiss on her knuckles. “Shall we go back, Lover?”

#baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x mc #astarion x reader

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holly-the-trash-writer · 2 years ago

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Safest Place in the Universe

Eleventh Doctor x Fem! Reader

Written for an Annonymous ask

Synopsis: Y/n wakes up to find that the Doctor fell asleep on her. Which would be normal if Time Lords slept. Upon waking the Doctor explains just how much she means to him.

Word Count: 1,240

A/N: Taking requests for all your Eleven fics!!

Amy had walked into her living room and stopped dead. Her jaw dropped open as she took in the sight in front of her.

Rory. She had to get Rory.

She tip-toed back out the door and sprinted upstairs to their bedroom, “Rory!” She hissed.

“Ah!” Rory tumbled out of bed before jumping up to his feet, “What? What’s happened?”

Amy squealed, “You really need to see this.” She grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the stairs.

“Is this really so important that I couldn’t put on trousers?”

“Yes. Now shush!” She placed a finger to his lips before slowing her steps when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The two crept towards the door to the living room and Amy grinned as she pointed around the corner.

The two peaked around the corner and Rory blinked... and blinked... and blinked. But the view never changed.

He pulled back and grabbed Amy’s arm, “Is he... sleeping?”

Amy nodded, “The Doctor. The Doctor, the man who told us that he doesn’t need sleep, is now sleeping. Sleeping on top of Y/n! They’re- They’re-”

Rory yawned, Cuddling. Which is what we should be doing.”

“Rory! This is huge! When have we ever seen the Doctor sleep?”

“Never.” Rory placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards the stairs, “Which is why we should leave him alone.”

“But-”

Rory chuckled, “We’re not staying down here so you can watch them sleep.”

Amy huffed before taking his hands and the two walked back upstairs again.

Y/n blinked as noise from the hallway started to wake her up. The sound of hushed conversation had filtered in the door and then two sets of steps going back up the stairs.

Squinting at the brightness of the room, she tried to take in her surroundings.

Amy and Rory’s house. Amy and Rory’s living room. Amy and Rory’s sofa.

She had fallen asleep on her left arm which was resting on the arm of the sofa. She remembered the Doctor rambling about using wires from different household appliances to do... something to the internet?

Where was the Doctor?

She couldn’t see him in the room so she went to get up to look for him. She tried to shift her legs but couldn’t move due to a heavy weight pinning her down. Looking down she saw the exact alien that she was looking for. The Doctor, who was still tangled up in wires, was lying on top of her. Literally. The back of his head was resting against her chest, his right hand had her right hand in a comforting grip at his shoulder while his left arm dangled off the side. His upper body was on top of her legs while his own long legs were dangling off the opposite arm of the sofa.

At first, she thought he was just thinking but he wasn’t moving and his breathing was even.

He was sleeping.

On top of her.

The Doctor was sleeping while leaning on her.

Once she realised what she was looking at she relaxed, leaning her head back on her left arm as she smiled down at him.

Y/n remembered the time he told her that Time Lord’s don’t need as much sleep as humans do. Something about a meditative state for twenty minutes is like an eight-hour sleep for him. Yet, when she looks down at him, he looks like he’s been asleep for a while. Like, proper, human sleep.

She craned her neck to look down at his face. He looked... peaceful. Which is a word not normally associated with the Doctor. The Doctor always has a permanent crease in his forehead.

Yet, right now. His face was crease free. He looked just like a regular young man in his twenties. She’s never seen him be so still for so long either.

Very slowly she moved her left arm and ran her fingers through the Doctor’s hair. Unbelievably soft. He didn’t wake at her actions and she couldn’t help herself but to run her fingers across his forehead.

He shifted slightly before his eyes snapped open and he startled that much he rolled onto the floor.

“Doctor?!” Y/n gasped as she leaned forward to look at him sprawled across the floor, “Are you okay?”

The Doctor’s eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out where he was. When he realised Y/n was looking down at him he jumped up, “Fine? Of course, I’m fine. I am Mister Fine.” Thinking over that for a second, he shook his head, “No, forget I said that.”

Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “I thought you said Time Lords don’t sleep.”

The Doctor didn’t look at her as he starting gathering all the wires and figuring out where the ends were, “We don’t.”

“But you were.”

The Doctor sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, trying to wake up.

Y/n frowned at his reaction, “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping you know.”

He turned around and gave her a small smile before gently lifting her legs and falling heavily into the seat beside her, placing her legs on his lap.

Y/n’s eyes widened at his actions, “Doctor?”

“Time Lord’s don’t sleep, Y/n. But they can.” He smiled as he patted your leg, “When a feeling of absolute safety is over us, we can sleep for hours.”

He looked at Y/n’s face, she was nodding but she wasn’t fully understanding what he was saying, “Y/n, I haven’t slept in the presence of another person in decades. A possible millennium or two.”

The realisation of what he meant dawned over her.

“You- You feel safe here?”

The Doctor chuckled, “With you.”

“Me?”

“Of course, you. Who could I trust more than you?”

Y/n was speechless so the Doctor continued.

He gestures to her body, “Your single heartbeat reminds me of and old Gallifreyan lullaby.”

Y/n smiled and shifted in her seat so she could hold his hand, “Oh? How does it go?”

The Doctor stared off into the distance as he patted Y/n’s hand, “It’s not one that is sung.”

“Okay... so what’s it about?” Y/n rests her head against the pillow, waiting for the Doctor’s response.

“It’s about finding the safest place in the Universe.”

Y/n played with the Doctor’s fingers, “Okay. Where is it?”

The Doctor smiled, lifting up his arm so Y/n could switch positions and curl up into him, putting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his middle under his jacket.

“It says that there is one heart out there for everyone.”

Y/n giggled and nudged him, “Or two in some cases.”

The Doctor chuckled, “The hearts are drawn to each other. Always trying to find each other. When you come together the connection will be so strong that you’ll wonder if you ever really loved before them. They don’t conform to the rules of time or space and in their arms, you will find the safest place in the universe.”

Y/n unwrapped herself out of the Doctor’s arms so she could sit up and look at his face.

“I never found my safest place until now." He grinned at her before pulling her into his chest for a hug, wrapping one arm securely around her back and his other hand wrapped into her hair, pushing his face into her shoulder he took a deep breath before whispering, "I found it with you.”

#11th doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #fanfiction #doctor who x fem!reader #eleventhdoctor #eleventh doctor x fem!reader

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

Fracture

i apologise in advance.

Miya Osamu x female reader

TW non-con, dub-con, psuedo-infidelity, referenced character death, angst, drunk reader, gaslighting, age gap, the slightest hint of nsfw

‘Yer still coming home for summer, right?’

How many weeks had your sister spent lovingly bullying you into coming down? How many hours had you spent listening to her gush over the phone about how excited she was?

And until about three months ago, you’d been excited too.

Despite the ten or so years between the two of you, there was nobody on earth you loved more than your sister. When you were sixteen years old and your parents passed away in a car accident, she was the one who stepped up to take care of you, putting a roof over your head, making sure you ate, slept and kept up your grades, balancing two jobs to do it.

And she grumbled and you fought, but she’s the only reason you managed to keep it all together enough to graduate high school, and when it came time for you to leave home for university, she was the one blinking back tears and loudly complaining about you ‘abandoning your poor older sister in her time of need’.

As if she hadn’t sat with you for hours, pouring over your options and gently nudging you in the direction of Tokyo.

“It’s just a few hours away,” you’d told her. “I’ll come back and visit you all the time.”

There was truth to that. The first six months of uni, you came home every other weekend arms full of expensive textbooks and mountains of assignments to write, but then she met Osamu.

You’ve never seen anybody fall so hopelessly in love as quickly as she had. Miya Osamu may as well have hung the damn moon in the sky for how your sister looked at him. And you suppose you can’t really blame her; he was stupidly tall, broad shouldered and handsome. Even back then his restaurant was a wild success, the man was talented and clearly knew how to cook. Nice was the wrong word to describe him, but Miya Osamu was good, and so long as he made your sister happy, that was enough for you.

And it wasn’t like he was the one to drive you away.

Osamu liked you – he let you camp out in his restaurant and work on your assignments when you desperately needed a change of scenery, stopping to humour you with conversation if it was quiet. He made you laugh, he was interesting, and the more your sister brought him around, the more you realised that you actually kinda liked the guy.

Things were just easy between the two of you, you never had to pretend to be anything but what you were.

You were the one who started putting space between you and her. It wasn’t intentional, at least not on their part, but somewhere along the way you’d started to realise that Osamu wasn’t the odd one out anymore; you were. She was building a life with him, and fortnightly visits turned into monthly ones, and then eventually it became once every few months and after that only on holidays and special occasions – their wedding being one of them.

At Christmas, cheeks flushed with alcohol, she’d pulled you into a one armed hug, pouting into your sweater. “You never come visit us anymore,” she’d sniffled dramatically, “I miss you.”

But it was Osamu – fingers laced with your sister’s, a hint of a smile curling at his lips – who’d voiced it. “Come spend yer summer break with us.”

Three months later you’d awoken to a call telling you that there’d been an accident. Your sister was dead.

Weeks pass by in a blur. Your classes are a haze of droning voices and mindless typing, you submit papers you don’t remember writing and you get good marks anyway. Your friends don’t know how to act around you, everything feels surreal, like you’re moving around in a dream, nothing touches you anymore. It hurts, but you’ve wrapped up that pain and put it someplace safe, seeking it out only when you’re alone and you just can’t bear the numbness a second longer.

The trip you’d promised to take back home to Osaka is the furthest thing from your mind, at least until Osamu calls you in the early hours of the morning, a week or so before the semester ends.

“Yer still coming home for summer, right?”

The word ‘no’ lingers on the tip of your tongue. The last time you’d seen each other was at the funeral, his face blank and hollow, eyes rimmed in red. He’d barely spoken more than a few sentences to you, but he’d stayed by your side the entire time, calmly thanking those who came up to express their condolences.

You’d lost your sister, but he’d lost his wife.

“Do you still want me to?” you ask him quietly instead. If you were in his shoes, you’re not so sure that you would.

Yet Osamu sighs heavily, and you catch a faint clinking sound on the other end of the line, like a bottle being set back against the marble countertop. “I just–” but he breaks off and something inside of your chest tugs. “I want ya here. The house is empty… she’s gone and I… I want ya here. Please.”

How could you possibly say no after that? Maybe you’ve been selfish, so wrapped up in your own grief and misery. You’d assumed that because Osamu had Atsumu he’d be okay. Not right away, of course, but he’d have that support around him – a support system that you were without.

It didn’t enter your mind that perhaps he was struggling too. That he was spending night after night alone in a house etched with memories of her. And just as you’d thought that Tsumu was the one keeping his head above water, maybe he was offering a hand to do the same for you.

—

He’s waiting for you on the porch when your taxi pulls up on the kerb. The driver’s nice enough to help you with your bags, but Osamu is quick to intercept, waving off the help with an impatient huff that almost makes you laugh.

“Yer here,” he says once he sets them down on the porch, grinning as he tugs you into a warm embrace.

It’s then that you get a good look at him, a proper look – and for a moment, you’re taken aback. You haven’t seen him since the funeral a few months back, granted, but Osamu doesn’t look the way you imagined him to – especially after your call the other night. There’s no hint of pallid skin, no bloodshot eyes with heavy bags underneath or a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. No, even with his dark hair still a mess, dressed in jeans and his Onigiri Miya tee, Osamu looks good. Healthy even, if the way the sleeves of his shirt cling to his biceps is any indication.

It takes you a second to realise that you’re staring, because Samu chuckles, brushing past you to bring your stuff inside.

“Y’know, most people start with a hello,” he calls over his shoulder.

Your cheeks heat, a hint of shame curling inside of you. Were you expecting him to be an inconsolable wreck? You know better than most that grief messes with people differently, and it’s not fair of you to judge him, however unintentionally, for not fitting that image of the grieving husband.

It’s a good sign.

“Hi, Samu,” you reply somewhat sheepishly, following him inside.

He’s already walking towards your old bedroom, the ‘guest room’ now (though you and he both know it’s always been yours), leaving you to trail behind the older man. Your intention is to stop him from going to too much effort, but as you walk past the living room, something catches your eye.

Or rather, the absence of something. Faltering in your step, it takes you a second to realise what’s missing, but as you glance around, brows furrowing in confusion, it hits you.

The pictures of you and your sister, the cute ones with her and Samu, the old family snaps that used to line the walls and sit on the TV unit, they’re gone. And it’s not just the pictures. The artwork your sister had painted that used to hang by the wall next to the kitchen, the little pot plants she’d doted on like children, hell, the throw that she’d knitted one winter that was always lying on the couch; they’re all gone.

The room feels almost alien without them, unfamiliar and cold. He’d hung up some cool photography stuff to fill in some of the spaces, but instead of homey it just felt… modern. Like the pictures you see in magazines of staged houses that nobody actually lives in.

And you must have been standing there for a while, because you don’t notice it when Samu comes back to find you still holding your purse, gazing around like a lost child.

“I didn’t get rid of ‘em, if that’s what yer thinking.”

You turn to face him, except Osamu isn’t looking at you. He’s gazing at the walls around you both, his face strangely impassive – except for his eyes. It’s impossible for you to miss the hurt that swims there, the faint sheen they didn’t hold only moments ago. “I packed them away – they’re in yer room if ya want to look through any of it, it’s just…” he trails off, finally glancing back to look at you. And once again, you feel that flicker of guilt slowly eating away at you. “It was painful, seeing her face everywhere.”

Before you left your apartment that morning, you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t cry today – but the tears come unbidden, and one moment you’re standing there staring at him and the next you’re choking on a sob, hand coming to your lips to try and stifle it.

Osamu’s there in a second, solid arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. He doesn’t say a word (what’s there to say anymore?) he just hums softly, stroking your back with a gentle hand as you fall apart once more.

—

It’s surprisingly easy for the two of you to fall into a rhythm. There’d been some part of you that was hesitant about this whole thing – despite having a relatively good relationship with your brother in law, you knew that the only real connection between the two of you was your sister.

Without her, living in the same space and trying to navigate around the holes that she’d left, you’d expected it to be at least a little awkward between the two of you. But with Osamu working full time, it was kind of a non-issue. Aside from the first day when he’d taken the morning off to help you get settled, he was usually gone before you woke up, and most nights he wasn’t home until nine or ten. How he worked such long hours six days a week without collapsing out of sheer exhaustion was beyond you, but you tried to make things easier for him, cooking dinner for the two of you.

“Y’know ya don’t have to do this every night, right?” he asks you one night, sticking the leftover chicken into the microwave. “I have a restaurant, I can sort out my own dinner.”

You don’t tell him that despite being a rather terrible cook, it was one of the things your sister made sure to do every night in the weeks following your parents’ death. You’d spend most of your day holed up in your room if you weren’t at school, but dinner was the one time you’d sit and talk with her. It became a ritual; something sacred and special between the two of you.

You’re a better cook than she was by far, no comparison for Osamu, of course, but it’s the only way you really know how to help with… whatever this is.

Instead, you just offer him a wry look from your position on the couch, “And yet, you never do.”

He scoffs at that, a hint of a smirk curling at his lips, “Why would I eat there when I know yer cookin’ for me?”

—

Of course, as easy as it is to slip into living with Osamu, you can’t escape what happened there forever.

It doesn’t slip your notice the first night you spend there; the spare toothbrush in your bathroom, the decidedly masculine body wash in the shower, or how one of the shelves in the vanity was stocked with shaving cream and cologne and a few odd skin care products. You’d assumed that they were Atsumu’s, spares stashed away for the odd nights he crashed here. There’s another bathroom off the master bedroom, so you know it can’t be Samu’s stuff.

Except you find yourself proven wrong one night, when fresh from your shower and clad only in a fluffy white towel, you open the door to find a shirtless Osamu filling the space, one arm propped up on the doorframe.

“Anyone ever tell ya yer a bit of a bathroom hog?” he asks, smirking down at you.

And you’re so taken aback, utterly confused as to why he’s standing there half dressed, why it matters how long you take in the bathroom – never mind that the only thing covering you from complete nakedness is your towel – that you can only stand there, gaping like a fish as he laughs, takes you by the shoulders and physically shifts you out of the way as he slides on past.

It takes you until the following morning – Osamu’s sole day off – to ask him about it, clutching nervously at your cup of coffee while he busies himself making breakfast for the two of you.

“Samu, um, about last night…” you timidly begin.

He glances up at you from the stove, a single eyebrow raised. “What about it?”

Your cheeks are already burning, eyes darting between his face and the mug in your hands as you struggle to find the right words to bring it up without making things weird. “Well, I-I was just wondering… um, why you were using my bathroom?”

You’re not sure what kind of reaction that you’re expecting, but the dark look that flashes across his face isn’t it. For a split second, your insides clench, terrified that you’ve said the wrong thing–

But as quickly as it appeared, Osamu’s expression smooths over. He exhales heavily, setting down the spoon in his hand as he turns to face you properly, and when your eyes flicker up once more, you realise with a start that it’s pity that’s taken its place.

And a second too late, the pieces inside your head fall into place.

“Oh.”

Osamu nods only once. “I can’t go in without seeing her lyin’ there… I thought ya knew.”

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room. She’d died in their bathroom – slipped on the wet tiles and cracked her head open on the edge of their bath, and Samu had been the one to find her.

Weakly your eyes flutter shut, bitter nausea churning in your gut. How could he stay here, sleep in the next room when–

“Hey, hey, calm down, I gotcha,” Samu’s voice is at your ear, and your head’s spinning, pounding, and you can’t breathe. The mug in your hand tumbles to the floor, your coffee spilling across the wooden floorboards as weak fingers clutch at empty air, and then those arms are around you once more and Osamu’s trying to soothe you.

Breakfast is forgotten as he tugs you towards the couch to sit. And as he holds you, speaks to you in that calm, unwavering voice you try to focus on the scent of him (masculine and earthy, a hint of spice and cedar), the fabric of his shirt under your cheek and the gentle, almost lazy circles he rubs into your side and not the mental image of your sister, lying broken and bleeding on the bathroom floor.

—

It doesn’t take much effort to find the stash of your sister’s things that Samu set aside in your room. You lose hours flicking through pictures of her, smiling through your tears as they dredge up old, happy memories of the two of you.

Even the ones of her and Samu, his arms looped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head; she’s always wearing that bright grin that makes your heart ache.

There are a few of the three of you – one from the last time they’d come to visit you in Tokyo and you’d dragged them off to Disneyland. You’re standing between the two of them, beaming at the camera while Samu’s arm hangs off your shoulder and your sister, grinning widely and wearing the minnie mouse ears she’d bought at the first opportunity, tosses up a peace sign.

Softly wiping away your tears, you set it aside. You’ll have to ask Samu if you can take that one home with you.

—

“What’re ya doin’ tomorrow?”

It’s late, and the two of you are sprawled out on the couch, watching TV with a bowl of snacks between you like the old days when he asks.

“Not much,” you reply. “I was going to go to the markets at some point in the morning and maybe head to the beach after that, why?”

Grey-ish brown eyes flicker across to you, “A few of my old teammates are in town, we’re meetin’ up for some drinks. I want ya to come with me.”

“Oh,” the word slips out before you can stop yourself. “Um, yeah… if you want?”

It ends up sounding more like a question, a fact that doesn’t slip past Osamu if the amused little snort he gives in response is any indication. And it’s not that you don’t want to give up your plans in favour of going with him; you get along pretty well with Atsumu and you’ve met most of his old teammates at least once or twice, it’s just that you’re a little confused as to why he’d want you there to begin with.

They’re all at least twelve years older than you, and while it occurs to you that maybe he’s just inviting you along to be polite (not that that’s ever been his style before) the last thing you want is to be stuck feeling like an afterthought, all but ignored as he and his friends catch up.

“I said I wanted ya there, didn’t I?” He doesn’t wait for a response, “‘sides, Tsumu already asked if you were comin’.”

Which is how you find yourself dressed up for the first time in months, fingers smoothing out the hem of your dress as Samu tosses you a lazy grin from the driver’s seat. “Relax, wouldja? They ain’t gonna bite.”

You know that. They’re good guys, but no matter how much rationalising you try to do, you can’t seem to quell the anxiety eating you up, and the frustrating thing is that you don’t know why you’re feeling it.

He’d neglected to tell you that they weren’t meeting at some bar or restaurant, but at Atsumu’s condo in the city (‘Showy fuckin’ bastard’ Samu’d huffed as he’d pulled up in front of the building), but you suppose it really doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Ya look good,” he compliments, eyeing you for a moment while the two of you wait for the elevator.

Cheeks warming, you drop your gaze and stutter out a quiet thank you. Apparently unsatisfied, he leans closer, reaching one large hand up to gently ruffle your hair – grinning in satisfaction when you shriek and try to pry it away. “Relax,” he whispers again, the warmth of his breath tickling the bare skin of your neck. “Yer too wound up.”

Distracted by the arrival of the elevator, you fail to notice that instead of returning back to his side, his hand drops to your shoulder.

And it should be easier to do just that once you have a drink in hand. Atsumu greets you with a one armed hug, the only hint of anything out of the ordinary being the way his gaze lingers a beat too long as he studies your face, his eyes sharp and missing nothing. But whatever he sees (or doesn’t see) his expression softens into a smile, “Glad ya came.”

But even as you’re greeted by the others, falling into an easy conversation with Kita and Aran you can’t seem to shift the uneasiness in your stomach. There’s something in the air, a tension nobody really wants to admit to.

And you can’t quite tell if the others are surprised that Samu brought you at all, or if it’s just because you’re a living reminder of a tragedy that’s still fresh and raw, and everyone’s trying to pretend that it’s not. You don’t blame them for it, of course, they only mean the best. But you can see it in the way Suna side eyes you every now and then, how skilfully Akagi skirts anything that could touch a nerve when he comes up to chat.

It’s like they’re all walking on eggshells – though whether it’s for your benefit or Osamu’s, you’re not entirely sure. For his part, Samu sticks close, keeping your drink topped up, an arm slung over your shoulders as the afternoon wears into the evening.

Yet despite that, the alcohol you’re drinking far too quickly starts to work its magic, filling your body with a warm, pleasant little buzz, and you actually start to enjoy yourself. You laugh easier, giggling when the twins start to bicker, gasping in wicked delight when Suna offers to show you certain embarrassing photos of both of them on his phone (he has quite the collection), even letting Gin and Tsumu drag you into taking shots with them.

And all the while, Samu watches you, a soft smirk playing at his lips.

—

By the time he unlocks the front door and you stumble back inside, you’re absolutely plastered, giggling at nothing and tripping over your own feet.

As always, Samu’s there to catch you, strong, muscular arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Careful there, princess,” he laughs.

You grin up at him, carefree and heartbreakingly beautiful. For the first time in months you feel light, you feel amazing and you don’t want this to end. Kicking your heels off, you skip inside, leading him by the hand. “Samu,” you call back over your shoulder. “I wanna dance.”

“Nobody’s stopping ya.”

“But there’s no music,” you pout, and once again he chuckles, letting you go to settle back into the leather couch as he pulls out his phone. A moment later a familiar, lively melody floods the living room, and you let yourself become lost to it. It doesn’t matter that you’re drunk and dancing alone, Samu’s dark eyes following your every move, you’ve never felt so free.

Arms raised in the air, hips swaying hypnotically to the beat, you lose track of time. It could’ve been minutes or seconds or a whole hour, but suddenly you’re not alone anymore – Samu’s there with you. His cologne invades your senses, why does he always smell so good? His body’s warm, almost hot as he slots himself behind you, caging you against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice sending shivers running down your spine. “Yer a little tease, ya know that?”

And there’s something wrong with that, you know there is, but you can’t seem to think of what it is – not when the weight of his hold’s impeding your movement. A pout adorns your face, a soft, almost petulant whine escaping your lips as you try in vain to untangle yourself, “Samu, lemme go. I wanna dance.”

He huffs out a laugh, but that doesn’t sound right either. “Don’t wanna dance with you, pretty girl.”

There’s something hard pressing against your lower back, and his hot breath ghosts over your neck a moment before lips descend to suck on the sensitive flesh.

In a split second, all that blissful, warm, drunken happiness evaporates. Samu groans lowly, his chest rumbling at your back, but there’s a pit of something cold and urgent that’s seeping through your veins, distant, foggy alarm bells tolling inside of your head and you don’t understand what’s happening, but you know that you don’t like it.

You want it to stop.

“S-Samu,” you whine, shifting uncomfortably against his hold.

This time he listens, drawing back just enough that he can turn you around to face him. And those familiar eyes are hooded and dark, burning with an intensity that makes you want to recoil even as he stares down at you, taking your cheek in hand.

You don’t even realise that you’re crying until his thumb’s brushing away your tears. There’s nothing comforting or pleasant (nothing of the Samu you know) on his face as he studies your fearful expression, but eventually he lets out a heavy sigh.

“She was positive I was cheatin’ on her,” he admits. “Did she ever tell ya that?” He pauses for a beat waiting for a reply, but when it’s clear that you don’t have one for him, he just scoffs, “No, ‘course not. That’d be admitting that not everything about our life was picture perfect, and heaven fuckin’ forbid we do that. Y’know, that's why she wanted ya back here so bad. She needed a buffer.”

Bitterness clings to every word like poison and you flinch, renewing your struggles to get away. Not that he lets you – the moment you start to squirm the arm around your waist tugs you closer, anchoring you against him. The tears come faster, followed by soft, hiccuping sobs, but Samu seems beyond caring at that point.

“Stupid bitch never could see what was right in front of her face. That’s what we were fightin’ about that night; she said she was gonna leave me.”

Your heart clenches, fear pooling in your gut, but Samu just smiles at you, a mockery of sweet tenderness, reaching back to tuck a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. “But you know I’d never hurt my pretty girl, don’t ya, baby?” he asks. “Just want a taste tonight.”

You don’t even have time to suck in a breath before he’s kissing you, cradling the back of your head as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

And all you can taste is the whiskey on his tongue.

—

You can’t tear your eyes away from your reflection in the mirror, the faint, reddish blemish colouring your neck.

A hickey.

Tentatively, as if trying to prove that it’s real and not a figment of your imagination, you prod at the mark, only to wince at the tenderness. Definitely real.

You’d woken up to an empty house – unsurprising considering it was well past ten and you knew Osamu had work today – with your head pounding and your mouth uncomfortably dry. Wracking your brain, you can’t seem to conjure up a rational explanation for the bruise. Granted, you can’t really remember much of last night, only fragments of being at Atsumu’s place, and certainly nothing after you’d started taking those shots.

Which doesn’t make the uneasiness sitting heavy in your stomach any easier to take, because you know that you hadn’t been cosying up to anybody before you’d lost track of the night, and if it had happened after, then surely Samu or one of the others would have stepped in and put a stop to it.

And that should’ve been more of a comforting thought than it was, because if it didn’t happen at Atsumu’s then that meant it happened afterwards, when you were here with Samu.

Your heart thumps unevenly against your ribs.

Osamu. Your dead sister’s husband, your brother in law.

A hickey on your neck isn’t just a kiss. It’s not a simple, drunken peck against your lips, it meant that somebody had sucked on the skin, bitten at it, kissed until blood vessels broke – it’s not the kind of thing that happens accidentally.

A wave of nausea threatens to overtake you, and you barely manage to make it to the bathroom before you’re violently emptying the contents of your stomach into the porcelain bowl. And you know as you collapse onto the cool tiled floor, shaking just a little, that this time at least, the alcohol isn’t to blame.

You know Samu; you trust him implicitly. Whatever happened, it must have been a mistake or something. You’d both been drinking, and he’s still grieving and–

There’s no point jumping to conclusions or working yourself up any more than you already have. You’ll just bring it up with him when he gets home, you decide.

Yet anxiety and guilt gnaw at you as the hours crawl by, you’re half tempted to pick up your phone and just call him to ask point blank. The clock feels like it’s mocking you every time you glance up, and while you try your best to distract yourself with household chores and then busying yourself with dinner, none of it works for long.

By the time he does stride through the door, a little before ten, you’re an anxious wreck, all but wringing your fingers as you sit rigid and tense at the table. Most nights you eat before he gets home, hunger getting the better of you, but tonight you don’t seem to have much of an appetite.

“Smells good,” he comments with an easy grin, toeing off his shoes and dropping his wallet and keys by the door.

You open your mouth, but the words seem to get stuck in your throat as he drops a kiss down on the top of your head and walks on past to grab a bowl from the kitchen.

“I’m starving.”

Instead, you just swallow nervously as he pulls out the seat next to you and sits, not wasting another second before digging in. Your eyes quickly dart over to study him, but you don’t see any hint of guilt or unease on his face. He just looks like the same old Samu, a little tired maybe, but otherwise totally normal, and so you force yourself to pick up your spoon and follow suit.

And he’s never been one to fill silences with meaningless chatter, but tonight the quiet between the two of you feels oppressive, every clink of metal against ceramic echoing too loudly, every chew, every swallow setting you on edge. You can’t even taste the food, your stomach too twisted in knots for you to feel anything but nauseous after a few bites.

“… Is everything okay?” he asks after a few minutes, and it’s so sudden amongst the tense silence that you visibly jerk, almost dropping the spoon you’d been toying with.

You glance up to find him staring, brows furrowed in concern, and once again your stomach flips. It’s now or never.

“Um… did anything happen last night?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Osamu’s frown deepens fractionally, and he tilts his head as your fingers twist in your lap, “What d’ya mean?”

Did we kiss? The words dangle on the tip of your tongue, but as you nervously meet his eyes, you find nothing but confusion and concern there. And for a moment, you almost speak them, but then Samu’s reaching across the table to take your hand in his, and as his warm palm swallows up yours, you lose your nerve.

“You sure yer okay?”

Whatever happened, he doesn’t remember it and neither do you.

Smiling tightly, you nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Nevermind.”

There’s no reason for you to drag him through the mud for this, you’re already feeling enough guilt and shame for the both of you.

—

You try to put it out of your mind, but it’s not that easy.

Lying awake in bed at night, your brain unwittingly turns over possibilities of what else could’ve caused the mark if not Osamu. Guilt gnaws at you every second that you’re around him and all the while he’s painfully oblivious to it all.

He’s always been affectionate with you, but all those stray, unthinking touches now carry a different weight with them. You find yourself ducking away from them more often than not, pretending that you don’t see the almost wounded look in those greyish-brown eyes when you do. You start to avoid him, finding other places to be whenever he’s home.

And you hate yourself for it, because Osamu’s been nothing but faithful to your sister for as long as you’ve known him. You’re the one acting like there’s something wrong between the two of you, like he’s treating you any differently than he always has when you know that’s not the case.

You know that, but when you catch sight of the fading bruise in the mirror, your stomach twists into knots all the same.

There are excuses and justifications aplenty, but none of them make you feel any better. You still find yourself sniffling into your pillow, swallowed up by your guilt when you imagine how devastated your sister would be if she knew.

You’d let her husband kiss you. Being drunk and miserable and grieving didn’t change that. Whether he knew it was you or mistook you for her; it doesn’t matter. Maybe it was a mistake, letting him talk you into coming.

Things were still too raw, too fresh. You’d thought that coming here would help, but so far it’s only made everything worse, and unintentionally or not, you can’t kid yourself that your presence is doing anything to help Osamu anymore.

You need to go back to Tokyo.

Somewhat selfishly, you’re tempted to put it off until the weekend, because you know that Onigiri Miya has a stall for the beginning of the summer festival and he’ll be too preoccupied with that to think about anything else – but you just can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

No, it’s better to rip it off like a bandaid; nice and quick.

You’d planned on breaking the news over dinner, but as you pick your way through your noodles, you notice that Samu’s quieter than he usually is. Every time you risk a glance up he’s staring at the table, looking entirely lost in thought, and it just doesn’t feel like the right time to bring it up.

Tomorrow, you decide, you’ll cook his favourite for dinner and tell him then.

—

The knocking startles you from your sleep with a jolt. It’s quiet, hesitant almost, but you’ve always been a light sleeper.

“Samu?” you croak out, fumbling blindly for the phone at your bedside to see what time it is.

The door opens, a crack of light from the hallway spilling into your room as Osamu looks in. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I know it’s late, but I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’.”

He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of cotton pyjama pants, but he doesn’t look to be in any immediate kind of trouble. Still, he wouldn’t have disturbed you in the middle of the night if it wasn’t something important, so you blearily wipe the sleep from your eyes and force yourself to sit up as he slips into your room and shuts the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

He hasn’t bothered to turn on the light, and even with the moonlight streaming in through your window, his face is cast in shadow as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. And it’s silly, especially considering he’s the one who’s shirtless right now but it’s hard not to flush at the realisation that you’re only wearing a thin, satiny slip. You feel almost naked – he’s seen you in bikinis before, but it feels different here, when he’s the one in your bedroom.

“You asked me the other day about what happened the night we went to Tsumu’s,” he begins, his voice quiet and soft in the early hours of the morning, and suddenly your state of dress is the last thing on your mind.

Swallowing tightly, your pulse quickens and you still, waiting for him to continue.

And you feel, rather than see, the way he stares at you, inching a fraction closer when you don’t immediately answer. “And I lied. Or I didn’t exactly tell ya the full truth.”

“Which is?” you force out.

Samu’s shoulders rise and fall as he takes a deep, slow breath in and exhales heavily. “You were drunk and ya came onto me, tried to kiss me.” You flinch, a choked sound escaping your throat at the blunt admission, but he’s quick to reach for you, his hand coming to rest on your knee, squeezing it reassuringly. “And in the heat of the moment, I let ya.”

Hot tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but the moment you try to turn away from him, biting your lip and trying to blink back the tears, he stops you.

“Osamu–”

“‘Cause I’ve spent years waiting to kiss those lips, an’ I’m tired of pretending we both don’t want this.”

And he’s kissing you; soft and sweet and gentle, his lips molding to yours as he cups the back of your neck. You wonder if he can feel your pulse racing under his fingertips as he draws himself closer, groaning into your mouth.

It doesn’t matter that your hands are on his bare chest, pushing at him, hitting him – those muscles aren’t just for show; he’s immovable. The more you squirm, trying to extricate yourself so that you can plead with him to stop–

This is a mistake. A horrible, awful misunderstanding. He’s upset and grieving and not thinking clearly and you have to stop this.

He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

– the more his grip tightens until it starts to hurt and you’re whimpering into the kiss. Your tears are wetting his cheeks, but he doesn’t care, won’t stop and there’s a panic that rises within you every second that you’re entangled with him.

“Don’t do this,” he mutters, breaking the kiss as a sob rips its way free from your throat, “Don’t pretend ya don’t want this, baby. I know ya do. Stop being a little fuckin’ tease.”

He leans back in, intent on capturing your lips again, and in an act of desperation you reach for his face, cradling his cheek in your hand. “Samu, please,” you beg, wide, imploring eyes searching his face for any hint of a reprieve. “You’re scaring me. Stop, please, j-just for a second.”

Just a second, that’s all you need to try and snap him out of whatever the hell this is. One second.

Osamu stills, his face mere inches from your own, his body hovering atop yours. His breath, ragged and uneven, ghosts over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake, but you don’t dare move as he leans into the touch, grey eyes fluttering shut.

He sighs, the sound almost like a shiver. “Ya don’t need to be scared, ‘m gonna take good care of my girl.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything else, not as he forces himself onto you once more. You used to marvel a little at Osamu. Tall, handsome and strong, even in his mid thirties; Samu was fit. Now, straddling your waist, pinning your wrists to the wall with one hand, the other palming at your tits, he dwarfs you entirely. He isn’t impatient, not as he kisses you languidly, not as he slides the soft, satin up your thigh, revealing your underwear.

Your hiccuping sniffles aren’t enough to move him, you’re not strong enough to physically fight him off. He doesn’t pay the tearful, breathless pleas sobbed out between kisses any mind.

Osamu grabs you by the waist and flips you onto your front, lips brushing at the nape of your neck as he smooths your hair back, and you’re utterly helpless to stop him.

And as his hand runs down your side and he coaxes your hips up into the air, you almost wish that he was rough. Because this pretense of gentleness, glinting steel masquerading as silk – it’s too intimate, and you feel complicit.

Like you’re willing.

Like you want this with him.

An act of love as he tugs your panties down to your knees and hums in quiet satisfaction at the sight of your bare cunt, glistening just for him.

There’s a voice in your head telling you you should be screaming and kicking and snarling like a wild, feral thing, but Osamu’s grabbing at your ass, spreading it to get a better look, his thumb gliding along your slit and all you can think about is the picture he’d packed away, the one of the three of you at Disneyland.

Samu’s arm slung over your shoulder, and your sister’s bright smile.

He spits; a warm, fat glob of saliva hitting your pussy, and as it slowly dribbles down the only sound that leaves your lips is a soft, broken whine. You don’t fight him when he takes his cock in hand and guides the flushed head, pre-cum already oozing at the tip, along your cunt, you just lie there, a toy for him to move and manipulate however he wants.

“You’ll forgive me for this, I know ya will,” he murmurs, softly squeezing your hip just once as something thick and blunt presses at your entrance.

But it doesn’t matter, not as his cock sheaths itself inside of you with one hard, brutal thrust, because you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu miya #yandere osamu x reader #yandere osamu #yandere osamu miya x reader #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: infidelity #angst #drunk reader #manipulation and gaslighting ahead y'all #dilf osamu

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tarosin · 3 years ago

Text

the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo - how y/n made friends with everyone

this is an extra to the great adventures series

requested: yes/no

warnings: cursing

tommy

you were actually friends with tommy when he was streaming to a few viewers, and you even watched as his channel grew. eventually he asked you to mod for him, as he knew he could trust you and because had experience being a twitch mod. he was also the reason you began streaming. as for how you met, you were in the same classes as him in highschool, and since you were the ‘quiet’ person in the class, they sat tommy next to you. honestly, you hated him when you first met him and the feeling was mutual. you didn’t want to sit next to the rather loud teenager and he had no one to talk to anymore as his friends were on the other side of the room.

“do you ever talk?”

“heh?”

“i said do you ever talk...do you always do that”

“do what”

“that fucking HeH.”

“are you mocking me simons?”

“noooo why would i do that...”

“it’s y/n.”

“right, yeah, yeah, i totally knew that.”

“great now please leave me alone i’m trying to work.”

“loser.”

“the fuck did you just say?”

“nothing.”

it was that moment tommy decided he was going to make you just like him, and a few years later that’s exactly what he did. by year 11 you and tommy had grown extremely close. the last day of school arrived a lot earlier than expected, everyone was extremely stressed, no one knew what to expect or what was going to happen. you found yourself hanging around with tommy a lot more as you had no idea if you would both be going to the same college, in september you received a text message that made your night:

tommy: college sent out emails telling you if you were accepted go check

*2 minutes later*

tommy: well?

y/n: i got accepted

tommy: me too

y/n: call me right now

tommy: i’m about to stream..have you ever considered streaming?

y/n: absolutely not

tommy: make an account and stream after me i’ll raid you..make me mod you know how people can be

once college started up, you were slightly nervous the two of you would drift away from each other. however this was far from the case, although you both did different subjects and he was only in on wednesdays, the pair of you would hang out together a lot more. he would be in your streams and vice versa, you would either be in his tiktoks, or you would be the one filming them.

“y/n make a tiktok we can be mutuals.”

“please god no.”

you spent so much time at his house either talking about random things, playing whatever game you could find, or streaming. he dragged you to every meet up he went on, allowing you to meet people such as niki, phil, and, wilbur. you didn’t know this, but he would constantly bring you up in conversations with dream, which eventually lead to you joining the smp in october where you would later be able to meet the likes of jack, technoblade and jschlatt. the only person you didn’t seem to see on the server was his other friend tubbo.

ranboo

you had become friends with scott after being his first twitch mod and when he noticed you started streaming, he was extremely supportive, always raiding your stream once he ended his. today you found yourself bickering with scott because he wouldn’t let you in mcc despite the fact you were ‘the best minecraft player.’

“y/n, i watched you die in minecraft 7 times last night within 5 minutes.”

“oh i’m sorry mr perfect, let me in mcc.”

“no.”

“fine i’ll make my own.”

and that’s exactly what you did..well you tried your best.

you started your stream as soon as scott ended and had him call you on discord after explaining to your chat what you were about to do.

“scott final chance let me in mcc, i’ll settle for access to the practice server.”

“fine.”

“REALLY?!”

“absolutely not!”

“fuck you, ill be in it one day!”

you left the call telling chat you didn’t need that negative energy in your life.

you really have scott to thank for you making friends with ranboo, scott made a tweet explaining what you were doing on stream which caught ranboos eye.

Smajor1995: after not making it into mcc again my good friend @y/n has decided to take it upon themselves to make their own on stream!! ill also be in the stream (if they answer my calls) *twitch link*

ranboo joined your stream and was instantly met with you yelling at scott (again) to let you in mcc.

“IM YOUR TWITCH MOD!”

“i will ban you from mcc!”

“you don’t have the nerve... so he left the call this is bullshit watch me land this water bucket clutch down this ravine so we can find axolotls and build an army.”

*you died*

you pulled your hood over your face before sinking down your chair taking a deep breath.

“FUCK!”

you calmly got back up and looked into your camera.

“i was so close, so very close.. HEY CHAT SCOTT SENT ME A LINK TO THE SERVER!”

a few minutes later you were able to get onto the server, only to be kicked less than a minute later. the reason you were banned being ‘i watched you fail the water bucket clutch down a ravine.’

you continued your build on your server and just spent the rest of the stream talking about anything that crossed your mind, that was until you decided to copy ace race. once finished, you looked into your camera and pulled your microphone closer to you.

“so this is race ace, so scott doesn’t sue me, and basically it’s going to be this course, but i’m going to change a random section practice it every day, not tell anyone it changed. of course i’m going to tell my team we have to win, oh fuck i forgot scott was watching my stream..it’s okay he didn’t hear me he’s too busy planning how he can rig the next mcc.”

ranboo found himself enjoying your content and even noticed you in his chat multiple times.

“just a minute chat i’m just sending an important dm to my mods.”

that’s when you noticed chat paused for a minute after you sent a message, it confused you for a minute before realising ranboo made you a vip on his channel and you decided to do the same for him on your channel, from there you added each other on discord. the pair of you made friends extremely quickly, you were constantly part of his streams as you would call him on discord not realising that he was streaming.

“hi y/n, by the way i’m streaming”

“i just wanted to ask if you knew how to break into a house?”

“....why”

“i locked myself out by accident and my parents are asleep come help me.”

“you are in the uk.”

“okay? catch a flight.”

chat honestly loved you and your friendship with ranboo. the pair of you only met a few weeks ago and you were already acting as though you had known each other for years.

jack

you and jack met for the first time on the smp, which would have been fine, however you met during lore and your characters weren’t exactly the best of friends. once lore had ended, everyone said their goodbyes and left the call. a few moments later you received a discord message from jack asking if you were available to call any time soon. since you were back in lockdown, you had plenty of free time. you arranged a time and date a few days later you called jack, where you had your first proper interaction out of character.

“hello jack!!”

“oh hi y/n i just thought it may be a good idea to get to know each other, well you know considering we’re both on the dream smp.”

“yeah, yeah, i understand what you mean.”

the pair of you ended up getting along with each other, it was slightly awkward for the first 5 minutes of the call, but that was expected since you hadn’t really met jack before and were anxious to call him. however, after that the conversation started to flow and you found out the pair of you had a lot in common making it easy to come up with things to talk about. it ended up feeling as though you were catching up with a friend you hadn’t spoken to for a while.

“has anyone told you your accent is really strong.”

“so is yours, y/n, what the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“it means your accent is strong, duh.”

jack asked if you’d like to stay in call and join him on the smp whilst he streamed, and you gladly accepted the offer as you really didn’t want to do your college work, and you were enjoying your time with him. a few minutes into the stream jack had killed you several times.

“JACK STOP KILLING ME!”

rather than answering you he just sat laughing. he then went on to attempt to mute him microphone, he failed. however he didn’t realise this, so you sat listening to his plan on how he was going to kill you again. this time you were prepared, you sent a message to tommy telling him to log on along with your location. few minutes later tommy was by your side and helped you kill jack several times for revenge.

“Y/N...TOMMY!!”

“you didn’t mute your mic, so i told tommy you were bullying me.”

“im gonna go...BYE JACK, BYE Y/N, ILL SEE YOU SOON!”

“i can’t believe you.”

“hey you’re the one who didn’t turn your mic off.”

“how did you know?”

“i had your stream on my other monitor.”

“ayeee you watch my streams?”

“...i’ve been a sub for 4 months.”

the two of you stayed chatting and playing for another hour. the pair of you were already so close and you had only met each other the other day. this was just the start of your friendship, soon enough you were in a laugh and the stream ends challenge on his stream, however due to lockdown rules this was done over discord leading to you accidentally leaving the call several times.

“and they’re gone again!”

*4 minutes later*

“SORRY JACK IM BACK!”

“stop leaving y/n!”

“oh i’m sorry, let me just go yell at my wifi to stop cutting out!”

a few seconds later you could be heard faintly in the background screaming at your wifi as it would continue to buffer. as soon as restrictions were over one of the first things you decided to do was go to jacks and stream a laugh you lose where there was a punishment if you were responsible for losing the last heart. however everything was apparently hilarious in person as you would constantly laugh, meaning you were responsible for losing the last heart.

“y/n give me your phone.”

“no.”

“you lost let me tweet from your account”

“fine..”

soon enough your fans and friends with your notifications on received this twitter notification

“y/n: jack is so cool and funny he is also really tall i am not”

tubbo

tubbo was actually the last person you met and made friends with, your community were convinced for some reason that you both didn’t like each other and that’s why the pair of you didn’t talk to each other. this was far from the case you were both waiting for the right time, tubbo was an extremely busy teenager and you didn’t want to interrupt him, and tubbo knew you were currently in a stressful position since you had recently joined the dream smp, also you were still meeting people so he didn’t want to stress you out. this doesn’t mean he didn’t want to be your friend, he actually asked tommy since he had been your friend for at least 4 years what would be the best way of getting to know you.

“mate they hated me when we first met, just talk to them or something. you could have met them the last time i went up to visit you, but they ended up not feeling too good and went back to the hotel room.”

“when are you next coming up?”

“how about next week, and i’ll bring y/n, i really don’t understand why you’re nervous tubbo, it’s y/n they wouldn’t hurt a fly..well hmm.”

“see you next week then!”

a week later tommy dragged you to the train station.

“uh tommy where are we going?”

“...on a train.”

“no way, really? oh my god!”

a few hours later you finally got off the train.

“ill go with my dad to check into the hotel room, do you want to come with us or?”

“i think i’ll go for a walk and stretch my legs.”

“right okay, meet you at the beach later”

you spent a few minutes walking around the beach picking up any rocks and shells that caught your eye, little did you know it would result in you meeting tubbo. once you finished putting your new collection in your pockets you noticed a small crowd of people walk up to someone asking for pictures assuming it was tommy you walked over to the boy, it wasn’t tommy it was in fact tubbo. at first you stayed silent not wanting to really cause attention to yourself. you only spoke up when some people started to make inappropriate comments towards him.

“oh sorry to be a pain guys me and tubbo have plans with tommy in a few minutes, we should go so we’re not late. bye guys.”

you smiled and waved as they walked away. you looked over to tubbo, you could tell he was still pretty anxious about what just happened and honestly if you was in his position, you would react the same way.

“we should probably move from here incase they come back and see you’re still here, are you okay?”

“im feeling better now it’s over..thank you”

“oh it’s no problem i’m, y/n btw.”

“wait you and tommy were still meant to be on the train.”

“the train was actually on time, tommy went to check into the hotel i wanted to stretch my legs, i also wanted to collect some rocks.”

“did you collect enough or did you want more?”

“im not going to say no if you wanna go collect some with me.”

the pair of you walked around keeping each other close incase the people from before returned. half an hour later, the pair of you sat on a bench close to the beach so you could show tubbo everything you decided to pick up, he ended up keeping a rock he liked to have as a memory. tubbo wrapped an arm around you as it was getting cold whilst you watched the sunset.

“tubbo i think tommy forgot about me.”

“you can spend the night at mine, i’ll send him a message to let him know.”

“are you sure?”

“of course!”

“this has to be the most unsafe thing either of us will ever do, we hardly know each other and now i’m staying at yours.”

tommy sent you a message explaining that he didn’t forget, there was a problem at the other hotel and they had to go find another one, but you’ll be fine to stay at tubbos for the night. the pair of you spent the entire night learning as much as you can about the other person. it had only been an evening but you already knew the pair of you would be great friends.

taglist:

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @c1loudee

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cathey-winchester-666 · 3 years ago

Text

Mikey x Mechanic!Reader

Summary: A list of headcanons about Mikey's relationship with his mechanic. Gn!Reader (I didn't bother to read through, please let me know if I messed up the pronouns!!)

Warnings: Swearing, some violence, mentions of kidnapping??? (but it's just a joke), reader is a badass

How you first meet:

The first time you two meet, it is because he's somehow managed to damage his bike.

Like, to the point where all of the mechanics he goes to are like:

"Dude, this is unfixable"

"There's nothing I can do to help you now"

"I'm afraid you're just going to have to buy a new one"

And he' getting increasingly frustrated, but still refuses to give up

But then, one of them goes:

"Hey, I might know someone that can help"

And they give the address of this small, rundown shop in the middle of nowhere

At first they think it's deserted and they're ready to go back to that mechanic and give them a piece of their mind

But then the sound of a long string of cuss words comes from within

So Mickey and Draken go in further to investigate and find you,

Stuck head first inside the bonnet of the car

And they're both thinking:

"Seriously, this is the one supposed to help us."

But then they pull you out of the engine and turn you to face the bike, explaining the hopeless situation

You take one look and go:

"Yup! Sounds like challenge!"

And instantly get to work

Whilst working:

During the time that you're spent fixing the bike, Mikey is a constant visitor

And it hits a point where you hear footsteps and, without even looking up, you instantly go:

"No Mikey, I already told you, the bike isn't ready yet."

But the footsteps don't stop

And now all 5 feet of his badass blonde hair is breathing on your collarbone

"Mikey, I can't concentrate with you breathing down my neck like that."

"Right, sorry."

And he pulls away.

But only a little bit.

And now he's breathing on the back of your shoulder.

"Mikey!"

"Alright! Alright!"

He pulls away and goes to sit down on a stool so he can watch you work

His dark eyes follow every little move you make

He flinches every time the bike makes a sound it doesn't usually

And you have to sigh and reassure him that everything is fine

Constantly explaining what you're doing as you're working

Without even realising you're using smart engineering language that he doesn't even remotely understand

but he listens anyway because he's starting to like the sound of your voice

Sometimes Draken will come over and you'll get to use your proper engineering language because he's able to keep up with what you're saying

You'll also sometimes teach him some new stuff he didn't know before

He also helps out with the stuff that he does understand, so the process goes a lot faster

Mikey sits there all jealous because you two are getting along so well and you're really enthusiastic about whatever it is that you're talking about that he doesn't understand

He wants to stop you two but he also can't get involved in the conversation because he has no idea what you're talking about and he's trying to hide he's obvious jealousy

Draken 100% knows

Some nights, Mikey even stays at the workshop with you

There's a small couch in the corner of the garage that he sleeps on

You used to have to call Draken to come pick him up

Now, you just throw a spare blanket over his exhausted form

One night, you even brushed a piece of blond hair away from his face and his nose scrunched up very cutely before he leaned in slightly to your touch

Cue you having an absolute seizure over how cute this man is when he's all relaxed and passed out

Anywho

Whilst fixing the bike, there would definitely be moments when he would hop up and lean over your working space

You would look at him

Give a small smile and ask

"Do you want to give it a go?"

Cue the biggest, brightest, happiest smile on his face as he enthusiastically picks up the closest tool on hand

Which is often not even remotely the right one

And you fall even further as you try to explain, in the most basic terms humanly possible, how to go about fixing this area of the bike

When trouble comes a-knocking:

Being affiliated with the leader of the Toman gang

Trouble is naturally going to find you

Especially when news gets out that you're the only one capable of fixing the leader's most precious and prized possession

His bike

Luckily for you, you're a certified badass

The first group that came in looking for trouble was a rather small one

However, you know the kind of neighbourhood you live in

And you always do research on your clients so you know what you're getting yourself into

You knew this would happen

And you came prepared. ;)

So when they first rocked up at your door

You came at them, all guns blazing

You ever seen Home Alone (if not, I totally recommend)

Well, it was basically like that

T R A P S

All the classics

Hot iron in the face

Marbles and nails on the floor

Paint can to the head

Glue and feathers

And then the more deadly ones

Kerosene, oil or petrol (you work in a garage my dudes, there's never a short supply) and then once they're soaked, an innocent match has them screaming to get away

For this next one, you need a layout of the building

There is a second level, which is all but busted and destroyed, you've laid out planks along the ground of the second level and you know which parts are safe

Through the holes in the floor, you can drop all sorts of things

Hammers

Poles

Wrenches

Rats and mice

Childhood trauma

You name it

And if anyone makes it to the second level, chances are, they'll end up falling through the floor

If they realise where it is safe to stand, keep in mind, you're super ripped from working machinery all day every day

And you've been practicing where it's safe to stand on this roof for a fight for as long as you can remember

Moving up there is second nature to you, an instinct, if you will

But it's all completely new to them

And, if I hadn't mentioned it before, you're a badass

So, by the time Mikey and his crew rock up at the garage, ready to take on a small army,

You've already got the entire enemy gang on the floor crying and begging for mercy whilst you stand over them, confidently swinging a mallet with a menacing grin on your face

And Mikey finds himself falling for you, just that little bit more

Once the bike is finished:

Once you've finally finished the bike

Mikey is instantly at your side

And you take a step back as he slowly examines every little section of the bike

And he's in awe

Not just because it's a spitting image of the real thing

But because it still has all the memories

The scratch from when he and Draken thought it was a good idea to attempt riding in the forest

That one time he tried to flirt with a lady by leaning on his bike, and inevitably knocked it over

All those little things

And you'd managed to keep them

"THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK-"

God, it takes forever to finally shut him up

"So, how much do I owe you?"

You'd thought about your answer to this for a while and finally come to the conclusion of what you really wanted out of this

"Well that depends, how much are you willing to pay?"

"Anything. You can't put a price on this bike, I assure you."

"Well in that case."

With a final deep breath, you place a hand on your hip and cock it, pointing a finger at Mikey's face

"I'd like to work as your gang's permanent mechanic!"

His reply startles you

"You heard them, Pah-chin, the kidnapping is off."

There's an audible sigh from behind you and the mentioned male slumps out from the shadows, a felt bag and some rope in hand

"... and this is???"

You turn to ask Mikey

"Well it was going to be a kidnapping."

A dejected Pah-chin answers for the blonde

Bitch, I beg your pardon, it was going to be a what now

"You were planning to KiDnAp mE???"

"Welcome to Toman!"

He cheers as he wheels his fixed bike out of the shop

"THAT DOESN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION!"

386 notes · View notes

duskandstarlight · 3 years ago

Text

Embers & Light (Chapter 39, NSFW Nessian)

Notes: Well, over a year you've had to wait for these two to seal the deal... BUT NO LONGER. And because I'm thankful to you all for sticking with this story, I've granted you with over 16k of sinful naughtiness. I think it's safe to say this is NSFW but you guys have read my smut before, you know the drill.

Embers & Light has always very much been the alternative story to Habits, but I couldn’t help but write in some crossover moments here to highlight the differences in events--timeline is a fascinating thing! Lemme know if you spot the moments :)

Please let me know what you think :) Comment and kudos will make my day!

I won't be able to write much of August (wedding & mini-moon) but I'll be doing my best to get you guys something as soon as possible. Hopefully by the end of the month, anyways <3

Oh! And I got a bookstagram. Find me at bookships.and.fandoms (and bear with me, I cba to take pretty pics atm)

Chapter 39 Cassian POV

Cassian stared at the doorway and the staircase beyond it, his gaze fixed and unwavering. Nesta had slipped out of the living room to follow Feyre up the stairs over ten minutes ago and he was already consumed with the biting sort of worry that gnawed at your insides.

He wasn’t concerned about what Nesta might be discussing with Feyre—that was her business—but because he couldn’t help but fret when it came to Nesta’s wellbeing.

It was a myriad of concerns that trampled through his mind like a herd of cattle. Had she slept enough? Had she recovered from being caught in the crowds the day before? Was her conversation with Feyre going to have her take three steps back rather than one forward? Cassian had spied the book of fairytales she’d slipped into her bag. Had guessed what she’d intended to do with it.

And then there was the fact that Nesta had left the bed before he’d woken again. Cassian couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d not been there when he’d opened his eyes, especially after the night before.

But that was how it was with he and Nesta. When the sun dipped below the horizon, Cassian often felt as if they were on the right path; as if once the world shut its eyes, the pressure was off and their play could continue. But as soon as light bled back into the sky, things weren’t the same. They weren’t cold… but Cassian felt suspended in a limbo of flirtatious banter and respectful distance. Which was hard, when all Cassian wanted to do was be as close to her as possible: to hold her hand and wind a hand through her hair. To kiss her brow and mouth and sink his teeth into her neck—

Cassian’s jaw tightened. He wanted to do wicked things. He wanted to make her moan and shatter. Wanted to know how she felt wrapped around him. Wanted to see if she’d gasp awake as he pushed inside of her.

Their trip home was going to be a turning point. Or at the very least it would be a milestone—a hammered notch as they progressed towards something. Yet, Cassian wasn’t naive: he wasn’t expecting Nesta to fall into his arms and never leave. But he hoped that it might make Nesta see their connection—not the tie between them, but the chemistry that Cassian knew would forever exist even if the mating bond was severed.

From the very first moment his gaze had settled on the haughty, vicious sister Cassian had known. Had nearly been brought to his knees—the heart-stopping moment so powerful, it suspended time as he felt something turn inside of him, as if something that had lain dormant had finally snapped open an eye.

And because of that Cassian would willingly allow Nesta to forge the reigns when it came to whatever it was between them. He could go slow. He would take the chance that Nesta might grow to accept him, even as he was seized by the terror that she might grow bored and draw a line under things before he had the chance to prove that he was worthy.

Cassian took a deep, steadying breath that made his ribcage heave. Thought of the lullaby that sat in his room at the House. Used that to ground himself and banish the painful thoughts.

Nesta had cared enough to gift him a piece of his past that nobody else had ever gone to the effort to find for him. And that was… everything. It was everything to him.

“I can hear the worry grinding gears in your brain.”

Rhys was standing where Mor had been a few moments earlier, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his eyebrows raised. Cassian hadn’t noticed Mor slip away. Couldn’t even recall what she'd been saying to him. Had he ignored her? He didn’t know. Didn’t really care. They all knew he was head over heels when it came to Nesta anyway.

Cassian blinked. It took him a moment to process Rhys’s words, but his body finally caught up. An instinctive grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and he commanded his eyes to sparkle, even though it was all fake. “I was under the impression you didn’t think I had one.”

Rhys didn’t chuckle or retort with something dry. Sometimes his brother allowed him to indulge in his self-deprecating behaviour, but it didn’t seem like today was one of those days. Instead, he cut to the chase. “They’re fine.”

Cassian bristled. Didn’t bother to pretend his mind wasn't solely on what was happening upstairs. “Feyre’s speaking with you now?”

Nesta would hate that. Would know if her sister was communicating to her mate whilst they were talking.

His brother’s laugh was as smooth as velvet. “No, she locked me out. It’s a habit she’s started recently and it’s usually coupled with the mental finger.”

This time, Cassian’s smile was genuine, as was the chuckle that chased it. “Feisty.”

“You have no idea,” Rhys responded with a wink.

Mor, who had breezed back to Cassian’s side with a new cup of coffee, rolled her eyes. “We do actually, you two are like rabbits.”

“We’re mated,” Rhys replied with a wave of his hand. “It’s to be expected.”

Mor lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Cauldron, I need to bed someone rather than hearing about my cousin’s exploits with my best friend.”

“Head to Rita’s and find yourself a pretty fae,” Cassian drawled, tugging Mor into a one armed hug.

“Mmm,” Mor hummed, but she chewed on her lip again. Glanced nervously at Azriel, who was in deep conversation with Elain. His shadows were tucked in neatly to his frame rather than trailing, ever-moving and loose around his body, but Cassian knew he could hear them.

Cassian dropped a friendly kiss to Mor’s head before he let her go. Tussled her hair, grinning mischievously when she squawked in disapproval.

As if sensing that his cousin wanted a change of subject, Rhys looked square at Cassian. “Azriel will come over later to update you on the latest movements.”

Cassian sobered as if someone had poured icy water down his back. “Not later,” Cassian corrected firmly.

Tomorrow. No the day after that. Cassian couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to stop once he’d had his first proper taste of Nesta.

But of course they couldn’t do that—wouldn’t. The situation in Illyria was too dire for them to be so selfish as to lock themselves away for days.

It didn’t mean Cassian didn’t want to, though.

“You’ve got plans?” Rhys asked lightly and Mor froze.

You’ve got no idea, Cassian thought. But then realised his brother knew. Of course he did. Surely everyone in this room knew how desperate he was to get back to Illyria. To have Nesta in his bed again, writhing and moaning, their bodies slick with sweat as they moved in unison.

Clenching his jaw, Cassian grounded that desire between his teeth, until it was nothing but broken, delicious shards that scraped down his throat. His blood coiled. “Yes. Maybe.”

If she doesn’t change her mind.

“It has to be tomorrow, Cass.”

Biting back a sigh, Cassian nodded. “I know. Come at noon. I suppose I’ll be camped out in Illyria for the foreseeable future.” He cast a stern look at Mor. “Send me letters.”

“You have a housemate,” Rhys reminded him. “You’re not going to be entirely alone.”

Mor grinned slyly. “A very beautiful housemate.”

Cassian was more than aware of that.

He grunted and unable to stop himself, he voiced the fear that always niggled away at the back of his mind. “For now.”

But Rhys just loosed another manicured shrug, that was at odds with the ground-breaking revelation that followed it. “For a long while. Nesta has expressed her desire to remain in Illyria long-term despite the discontent. Assuming you don’t mind sharing your bungalow.”

It felt as if an iron band of hope was clamped around Cassian’s chest. He stared at his brother. Tried not to blink. Crossed his arms firmly over his chest, protecting his heart. “And you know this how?”

“Nesta spoke with me. We have arrived at a truce, of sorts.”

That must have been what they’d spoken about yesterday on the balcony. He wanted to know more—everything—but Cassian would not press Rhys. If Nesta wanted to tell him, she would. He had to respect that.

So, he bit back his curiosity and grumbled, “About time.”

Rhys clapped his hand on Cassian’s back, but there was something wary in his expression, as if there was something he wanted to say but wouldn’t. Finally, he said, “Patience is a virtue, brother.”

“I’m not the patient sort.”

“You are when it counts,” Rhys countered, and Cassian didn’t say anything because they both knew what he was referring to. Rhys had been the first to know. Had witnessed Cassian in a tangled web of despair and longing and unwanted visions. His brother had immediately put two and two together. Because he’d been there, too. Knew what it was to want someone you thought you couldn’t have. To hope that someone might finally grow to see you in colour rather than in black and white.

Cassian cast another look towards the empty doorway and the quiet hallway beyond it.

A shiver of anticipation ran through him. It was time for them to go home.

***

In the end, Cassian folded to his worry and had Elain fetch Nesta from upstairs. It was time to go, he’d insisted, even though there was no true reason as to why they needed to leave quite so quickly.

“No guesses required to identify why you want to head back to Illyria,” Mor muttered out the side of her mouth, as the creak of the stairs a few flights above heralded the sisters return. Cassian jabbed his elbow into his friend’s ribs and Mor yelped through her grin, even as she had to sidestep, the nudge throwing her off balance. “What? It’s all over your face. You think I can’t read you after five hundred years?”

“Don’t announce it to the room,” Cassian muttered darkly under his breath, “and you won’t find yourself torn to pieces.”

Mor briefly bumped against his arm, the jostle affectionate. Unfazed by his threat, she glanced sideways at him with rich chocolate eyes. “I won’t. We just want you to be happy, you know.”

Cassian’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Now isn’t the time for a lecture about finding a more suitable mate.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, hadn’t meant to voice what he’d kept inside for so long.

Mor’s eyes widened, but she wound her arms around his waist. Cassian allowed her to tuck herself under his arm. His friend scented of citrus and cinnamon. When she craned her neck to look up at him, her expression was glowing with sincerity and Cassian realised that she hadn’t been insinuating that Nesta wasn’t right for him at all. “We’re all cheering you on from the sidelines, Cass, I promise.”

The muscle in Cassian’s jaw flexed. He looked away from her, towards the doorway again, unable to help himself. “Don’t say anything.”

She tightened her grip on his waist. “I won’t. I promise.”

“She doesn’t want it.”

Mor untangled herself from him. Shook her head in disagreement. “She does. She just isn’t ready to admit it yet.”

They both fell quiet as Nesta walked through the door with Elain and Feyre. The first thing Cassian noticed was that she scented of water and salt—tears.

Heart pattering with concern, Cassian quickly scanned Nesta’s expression and body language, searching for clues. But Nesta remained close to her sisters rather than apart, her fingers snagged in Feyre’s, her expression not in tatters but smooth and calm, like still waters.

“Ready to go?” Mor chirped from beside him. “I can winnow you back when Sala arrives.”

Nesta’s grey-blue eyes slid to Mor. “I called her on my way down.”

“Then you have time to see the snowdrops you gave me before you leave,” Elain responded eagerly, tugging at Nesta’s arm. “The cuttings took well to the soil. I planted them beneath the shade of the birch trees near the river.”

Cassian watched Nesta disappear into the garden. Surveyed the way a strand of golden brown hair that had escaped her loose braid floated on the breeze, as if it was part of the element rather than separate, as Elain bent to show her the snowdrops.

Yet despite the clear ease to Nesta’s movements, Cassian couldn’t help but ask Feyre whether everything was okay when she came over to hug him goodbye.

“We’re fine,” Feyre assured him, as together they watched Mor tentatively sit beside Azriel on the couch. For once the Shadowsinger’s shadows didn’t lighten, but Azriel still turned to her, drawn by some magnetism as she began to speak with him.

Slim fingers closed around his. Squeezed. “Thank you for fetching the book of fairytales for Nesta.”

The strand of ebony hair that had wrangled free of Cassian’s hair tie tickled the side of his forehead as he inclined his head. That had been a long time ago, when Nesta was a viper that he dared to poke with a stick, just so he could get a reaction. “Of course.”

“You travelled all that way on barely healed wings just to fetch a book.”

It wasn’t just a book, but Cassian knew Feyre understood that, so he only grunted, “Az took me most of the way. He waited to winnow me back.”

But Feyre’s eyes were burnished, as she asked, “Is there anything you won’t do for my sister?”

“It depends,” Cassian replied honestly. Because although he’d rather die than see Nesta hurt, Cassian wouldn’t hesitate to stand up to her when her fire was ill-wrought. And that’s what he liked about the both of them: if he was an ass Nesta told him straight, and he did the same for her. A grin slashed across his face. “Your sister has claws and teeth when she’s angry.”

It wasn’t long before Sala landed on her four large paws in the garden, prompting goodbyes. Mor winnowed Nesta and Sala, whilst Az’s scarred hand closed around Cassian’s arm.

Together, Cassian and his brother passed through realms of shadows and light and raging wings. Then Illyria was taking shape before Cassian bit by bit: there was the sting of winter on his cheeks, the crunch of snow beneath his feet, the scent of pine and untamed air. It felt like that wonderful first heave of your lungs after being starved from air. It alerted Cassian senses—woke him up.

Not bothering to say goodbye for the second time, Azriel bled straight back into shadow, but Mor raised a hand in a parting wave from where she stood beside Nesta and Sala. Her long golden hair caught on the breeze. It tussled behind her like its own puff of wind, before she vanished into nothing.

When Cassian’s eyes snapped to Nesta, he found her standing with her eyes closed, breathing in the wilderness of their surroundings. After a few beats, Sala jumped onto her hind legs, climbing up Nesta’s body with her snow-crusted paws to knock her head impatiently against Nesta’s.

A breath of laughter clouded in front of her as Nesta ruffled Sala’s ears. She murmured something Cassian couldn't identify in the manticore’s ear, before Sala dropped onto all fours and padded through the snow in the direction of the main camp.

Cassian watched the manticore go. He suspected Sala was going to seek out the widows camp and check everything was in order. It was the kind of thing Nesta would fret about—that whilst she was warm and fed, others might not be extended the same courtesy.

Or, the dark part of his mind whispered, she wants Sala out of the house.

You can fuck me wherever you like in the bungalow, Cassian.

The many needles of thrill pierced through him just as Nesta met his stare from across the snow. Suddenly, Cassian didn’t know what to say. His tongue felt swollen and thick in his mouth, words suddenly as viscous as tar. The atmosphere had altered—the aura surrounding them despite the distance suddenly heavy with promise: a change that pointed to something new.

The siphons on the back of Cassian’s hands glowed in anticipation. Nesta merely raised an eyebrow at him. Turned. Walked towards the house just as he caught the thick scent of jasmine and vanilla on the wind.

Cassian’s nostrils flared as it wound around him; invisible ropes of arousal. And then he was moving, following Nesta’s footprints.

His friends had winnowed them to the back of the house, halfway between the small stone outhouse and the backdoor. They weren’t far from the bungalow, but it felt like miles as Cassian stomped noisily after Nesta, his boots compacting the snow as if they were grinding shards of glass into powder.

When Cassian drew up behind Nesta, she already had a hand half-raised towards the door. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she was a whirlpool of warmth. It sucked him in, begging him to line his torso against her back, so when she cursed, realising she hadn’t taken her gloves off, Cassian didn’t hesitate to reach over her shoulder and rest his palm against the wood, encasing her.

The touch of his bare skin—or Nesta’s—was the key to the magical lock. A thunk sounded as the bolt released but Cassian didn’t push open the door—was too preoccupied with the female before him—who had twisted to stare up at him.

As soon as their gazes snagged, history began to knit together in a rush of thread, until it was a tangible, living thing. Because this moment had been written in the stars as soon as Cassian had seen Nesta in her amethyst dress in the human realm; her hair wielded into a mighty crown, her expression haughty and defiant, yet burning with the potential of a life not yet lived. They’d denied that history, even as it waited patiently in the wings. It had watched as they danced around each other, fumbling and snarling their way to this very moment—

They moved in unison. Cassian’s head bowing just as Nesta reached upwards; her body bowing to his, her palms sliding across his jaw until they were around his neck. Their lips met with a force that rattled Cassian’s bones. This wasn't a brush of a kiss. This was immediate and awakening: Nesta tasted like life and breath, like destiny. And yet again, Cassian knew with startling clarity that they were meant for this, he and Nesta. They were meant for each other and nobody could tell him otherwise, including her.

A soft breath whooshed out of Nesta as her back hit the door, but then Cassian was pushing it open, guiding her inside in a whirlwind of noise and wreckage.

The scrape of wood on the flagstone tiles sounded as Nesta’s back knocked against the table before Cassian turned them, his wings grazing against cupboards and the cool walls. Items clattered and shattered, but Cassian used his wings to keep a check on his surroundings, the touch guiding him to the left-hand wall where he could press her against the wall and devour.

Because Cassian could not tear his mouth from Nesta’s. Couldn’t stop tasting her. Couldn’t stop craving the roll of her tongue and the sound of her guttural moans. It fuelled a fireball inside of him; it roared into life in the centre of his heart, before spreading throughout his limbs, rushing through his body until it settled deep in his groin, aching and burning—screaming for relief.

When they finally hit the wall, the thud of their bodies shook the cabinets and the porcelain within it. Without thinking, Cassian took the brunt of it, his hand flying to cup Nesta's lower back and head to purposefully shield her from the hurt.

Because he was coarse and rippling, galloping towards a primal sort of wilderness that Cassian wasn’t sure he could control.

If Nesta was ignorant to the fact or wholly aware Cassian didn’t know. All he knew was that her hands were scrabbling at his leather like dancing flames, tugging him closer.

When he pressed his body over hers, aligning every inch of her to every inch of him, she whined.

Cassian swallowed it. Slanted his mouth across hers. Tucked his wings in tight as every muscle in him tensed in anticipation.

Nesta tasted of chai and vanilla and embers with a destiny to roar.

Another strangled noise came from her throat as Cassian sank his hands deep into the hair at her scalp, coaxing strands free from her braid as his fingers threading through her hair, just as he had done the night prior when he’d coaxed her to sleep. But this wasn’t a soothing touch. This was a touch to startle every nerve ending to life.

Time began to bleed around them, but Cassian only registered the fluidity of the frantic dance they had not learnt. The way Nesta arched into him as his palm slid back to span her waist. The pant of her breath against his skin. His heaving chest. The way his wings began to spread again of their own volition, like a fan unfolding to reveal a secret pattern—as if they were controlled by nothing but the ache of his cock as it strained against the leather of his pants.

As if in acknowledgement that his body was no longer ruled by him, his hips slanted upwards of their own accord. It was a desperate bid to relieve the ache, and his throat vibrated with a thunderous growl as Nesta dug her nails deeper into the leather of his jacket, using it for leverage as she arched into him.

Something turned further inside of Cassian, like a lock beginning to grind as a key turned. And then it felt as if he were plunging beneath water; ducking into the depths and travelling beneath an invisible barrier before emerging on the other side buoyant and surging with power.

Ruby crashed through his veins, like the walls of a dam broken free and… singing light. Magic roared so loudly in Cassian’s ears that he no longer heard the galloping beat of his heart or the sawing of their breath.

Reeling, he tore his mouth from Nesta’s. Her eyes were just as wide, puddles of startled moonlight—endless mercury—and Cassian didn’t need to look down to know that her hands were wreathed in silver.

For a moment they stared at one another. Time slowed until it was sluggish around them and then the feeling receded, as if Cassian was being carried by a wave as it was dragged unwillingly from the shore on thundering feet.

Sound bled back into Cassian’s ears, like raindrops slowly blotting paper. A moan whispered on a wind carried through him, the words fleeting—her name three times, like always—before they dispersed into nothing and ragged breathing filled the hole.

Fuck, they needed to be careful. He needed to be careful if just kissing her led to some transcendental experience. Cassian knew Nesta became open during sex—had seen tumbled images of tangled limbs and heard her moans—and he couldn’t afford to lose her when she had finally let him in. Couldn’t let her down, even though he wanted nothing more than to finally be found worthy by someone.

That twisted rope between them couldn’t widen and strengthen. Couldn’t finally open and click into place with a consensual snap.

Because Cassian had heard stories of mates who had gone to bed. Who had fleetingly accepted what they wanted in their hearts but not in their minds. And after they had both finished and life had been breathed into that bond, only death could sever their Cauldron-blessed connection.

Cassian would not have a mate with regrets, but he didn’t have the will-power to deny himself of her any longer. Not when he could scent how much Nests wanted him. When he could feel it like an unquenchable ache in his bones—an ache which made him tremble and shake. His rocky warrior exterior ground to nothing but sand.

As if Nesta could read his thoughts she tipped her head back, baring the column of her neck.

A resounding guttural sound dragged from his throat. The noise was animalistic and unchained. A booming crack ricocheted around the walls, the muscles in Cassian’s back burning as his wings snapped outward.

Something toppled from somewhere and crashed to the floor, but Cassian didn’t bother to raise his head to look at what it was.

And then time seemed to both slow and drive into a frenzy. Cassian launched at Nesta’s neck at the same time he tugged at her hair, urging her head to fall back even farther.

His lips were against the column of her throat in the blink of an eye; his teeth scraping, his mouth sucking until her blood pounded in his ears. Nesta’s knees buckled but Cassian quickly pinned her body to the wall, holding her up, his knee sliding firmly between her legs…

And… nothing. There was no panic or sensation of being trapped—no sudden fire launching him back thirty feet—but Cassian still tore his mouth from Nesta’s neck. Had to know she wasn’t panicking. “Ok?” he rasped.

A frown burrowed Nesta’s brows. Her swollen lips parted in confusion. Somehow it made her look more beautiful.

Cassian raised a shaking hand to trace it away. “Nesta. Are you ok?”

Understanding dawned like millions of unfurling petals.

When Nesta spoke she was short of breath, the words an exhale. “Don’t hold back.”

Cassian practically arched into her at the words but he made himself remain still, even as his body vibrated with tension. His bones creaked but he held fast.

That stubborn, beautiful chin lifted and Nesta’s eyes glinted wicked yet pure. Always an oxymoron, his Nesta.

“Don’t hold back,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time. She pushed her hips against his thigh and the friction had her lips parting, a shaky breath tumbling from her lungs. “I can take it.”

The words were like slashing knives of pleasure, severing the leash on any control Cassian thought he had.

The subsequent rush of air Cassian loosed was akin to a snorting horse.

Then he was moving and their mouths were fused together again, their tongues a delicious push and pull of control and pleasure before he yanked away.

“Thank fuck,” he gasped. His hands flew to her hips, guiding her to ride his thigh. “Thank fuck, Nesta.”

The friction had Nesta moaning, her fingernails digging so hard into the leather of his jacket Cassian was sure she had dented the material. But he didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but the living fervour that clawed at them.

His hands were everywhere at once. Tangled in her hair. Sliding over her cheek. Cupping her ass. Attacking the buttons at the back of her dress, until they popped and scattered. Until he could pull the material down her arms, exposing tantalising creamy skin.

At the first sight of her breasts, Cassian growled. He bowed his head to capture a nipple sharply between his teeth before he laved over it with his tongue, smoothing over the wound. He relished the way Nesta cried out. Arched into him. She began to tear at his jacket. It snagged on his wings but Cassian shrugged it off until it hit the floor with a thud.

The first slide of Nesta’s palms beneath his tunic was like oil sizzling in a pan. Cassian hissed as the callouses of her palms scraped deliciously over his skin and scars and ink. Snarled as she made quick work of the stays and fastenings. Tried to focus on her other breast as she inched her hand beneath the tight leather fabric and eased him free.

Fingers wrapped sinfully around him, causing Cassian to snarl around a peaked nipple—to buck sharply—pressing them more firmly against the wall.

“Don’t bother,” Nesta moaned as Cassian wrenched desperately at the fabric of her dress, trying to coax it further down her body. She ground down onto his thigh as it to emphasise her point—her need—and the heat of her burned.

It was all Cassian needed to hear. He fumbled desperately with her skirts until a hand was under the material and sliding up her thigh. Until fabric ripped and her underwear fell away in what Cassian imagined to be a ripple of lace.

In one swift movement, Cassian lifted Nesta’s body upwards, until her legs were gripped tightly around his hips and her back was flush against the wall. Her hands flew to find purchase, grappling at the back of his neck, and when she was steady she raked her hand purposefully through the hair which had come loose from his tie. Tugged at the leather until his hair fell over his face. Whined. Tangled her fingers through the ebony strands as if they were her reigns.

Cassian splayed the hand that wasn’t supporting her body against the cold wall. Tried to catch his breath, but the position evened out the height between them. Just a slight movement would allow him to capture her lips with his, and Cassian couldn’t deny that demanding tug that drove him to devour. Nesta seemed to feel the same way. Moaned in relief as Cassian tasted her as if he couldn’t get enough, gave back as good as she got. Over and over they moved, until they were nothing but an undulating wave of tongue and teeth and groans. The pleasure was a surging, roiling entity. It was all consuming. It overtook Cassian’s body, demanding that his hand drag from her ass straight to her core.

When his fingers slid through wetness, Cassian’s groan sounded like thunderous defeat. He dropped his head to Nesta’s collarbone. Gently pressed his lips to her clavicle. To her shoulder. Tried to ground himself as he slid straight to the spot that made her keen—as pleasure ignited down the bond like a crashing wave. Brushed over it again and again and again. Relishing in the noises he coaxed from her. At the curling fists of desire that clenched agonisingly inside of him.

Cassian had to see Nesta fall. Had to look into her eyes as she broke.

But he wanted to be inside of her when it happened.

Cassian was reaching for his cock at the same time that Nesta let out a broken moan. “Do it,” she breathed. There was no bite of authority in her voice, as if all of the energy she had directed in the pursuit of pleasure had smoothed over the serrated edge of her personality he loved so much, leaving a softer version in its wake. “Please. Just—”

A satisfied snarl ripped from Cassian as he felt her want. And in that moment, Cassian knew there would be nothing gentle about how this was going to play out. It was going to be rough and frantic, riding a wave of pleasure that had been building for too long. Knew afterwards that they would sink to the cold floor in a mass of tangled limbs and mingled breath.

And Cassian wanted that. Had never wanted release so badly in his life.

Something clambered in the back of his mind. Something he needed to remember, but his limbs were moving of their own volition. He didn’t even bother to pump his cock or squeeze it to relieve the tension. Only cared about finally being inside of her.

The heat and slickness of her was sinful and divine when he lined himself up at her entrance. The hand he had braced against the wall came to span her cheek. It relied on Nesta clamping on tightly to his waist with her legs and the press of his torso against hers, but they managed it.

Shaking, Cassian raked back the hair that had fallen free from her braid back from Nesta’s face, just as she tugged him in for a bruising kiss.

There was a moment when everything paused and trembled. As Nesta pulled away and stared at him, her eyes swimming silver—glowing with it—her pupils obscured.

His magic surged at the sight of it. Crashed against his skin as if it was trying to escape. His siphons burned bloody.

“Cassian,” Nesta panted. Despite the keen desperation, there was cushion to his name. Gently, Nesta bowed her head until her forehead rested against his. The gesture was surprisingly tender. It tugged at his heartstrings, triggered his hips into movement as they finally pushed forward.

The tight heat that wrapped around him like velvet was so immediate that Cassian swore. Sweat trickled down his back and seeped into the tunic Nesta hadn’t gotten round to discarding. He trembled as Nesta’s breath stuttered and he felt the burning pain mixed with pleasure as he sunk in an inch. Felt the stretch of Nesta’s body as it strained to fit around him.

Claws dug into his back—Nesta’s nails—biting into his skin, until the metallic tang of blood infused the air.

Cassian’s body stilled before he even had a second to register that he needed to stop. That instinct buried deep to make sure she never hurt.

And then a knock rapped at the front door.

“No,” Nesta moaned. She shifted her hips and Cassian sank a little deeper. That pain flared again through the pleasure and Cassian grip on her turned vice like.

Sense stumbled into his desire addled brain, like a fawn on gangly legs.

But then it righted itself.

Another sharp rap at the door cleared his head completely.

He bowed to bury his face in the crook of her neck but Nesta whined. Tilted her hips again, urging him deeper. “Nesta, stop.”

��No.” Her whimper was doused in frustration, but all Cassian could feel was that sharp needle of pain.

He tried to pull back, but Nesta clamped down around him with that incredible strength of hers. The strength that only seemed to appear at times of desperation or anger.

Cassian’s jaw flexed, his features hardening. “I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not,” Nesta countered, defiance colouring her expression.

“I am,” Cassian retorted, not allowing for a passing beat of their hearts to pass before he replied. “I’m hurting you. Don’t pretend that I’m not.”

I can feel it, Cassian wanted to explain, but didn’t. Knew somehow that if he did they might not end up joining at all.

Desire fogged Nesta’s mind and it fuelled the punch to her next words. “I don’t care.”

Ire punched through Cassian’s desire enough for him to see red. “Well, I do,” he snapped.

Nesta’s nostrils flared at his tone and her eyes burned silver. Cassian wondered how everything had gone southward so quickly—they were on a sinking ship and he needed to patch it up. Knew she felt rejected. So, he kissed her and pushed back that unquenchable ache he felt for her. Knew it hit home because she gasped softly into his mouth, her surprise tart on his tongue.

He pulled out. As soon as his cock fell free that pain throbbed and ebbed. But Nesta moaned all the same.

Moaned again as he drew his head back to stare at her.

She surprised him when her eyes remained open rather than closed off. There was no hard shield. Nothing but want and a vulnerability that made his heart squeeze.

It gave him the courage to do the right thing.

He kissed her again. Trailed a thumb across her swollen lips, ignoring the desire that roared as Nesta sucked it into her mouth, her tongue darting across the top before the bit down lightly.

“This is how things are going to go,” Cassian murmured lowly, pulling his thumb out of her mouth and across her jawline, trailing the wetness all the way to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Nesta shuddered.

“I’m going to get the door and send whoever it is away,” Cassian continued. He paused to let the words sink in. Lowered his head to trace a path with his nose, up the slope of her shoulder, all the way up her neck until his lips were grazing the shell of her ear. “You will go to your bedroom. When they’re gone, I’ll find you.”

Another shiver coursed through Nesta’s body. Her fingers tightened around his neck.

When Nesta next spoke, Cassian knew he’d piqued her interest. “What then?” she demanded.

“Then I’m going to make you come until you see stars.”

Nesta’s entire body froze. For a long moment, she didn’t so much as breathe, but Cassian felt the throb of her blood and magic as it pounded against her skin.

Then, Nesta’s hands worked between them, until her small palms were splayed across his chest. She pushed firmly, indicating that she wanted to get her down. Her body slithered to the floor, her lean legs falling away from his body.

The sudden distance between them felt like miles.

Nesta lifted her chin. “Hurry or I’ll start without you.”

A breath heaved at Cassian’s lungs and he felt his pupils contract, pushing out his irises until they were swallowed by black. The image of Nesta sprawled on the bed wearing nothing but skin, her legs open, a hand moving between her legs had that coil within him tightening to the point of pain.

A growl spiked through the air as another knock sounded at the door.

Nesta must have known she’d wrangled back control, because she arched a cool eyebrow at him. “I thought you were going to answer the door?”

A dark chuckle forced its way out of his chest, but it was mechanical rather than true. Because there was nothing funny about resisting Nesta right now and his body seemed to know that.

Cassian reached for her before he knew what was happening. Rested his forehead against hers. Breathed once. Twice. “I need to calm down,” he confessed.

Nesta snickered, but the sound fell flat as her breath hitched upwards at the end. It betrayed the effect he had on her, even as she said silkily, “Did the image of me pleasuring myself get you hard?”

“I was already hard,” he growled. He pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth. “As you well know.”

A hand reached between them. Stroked over him—the touch feather light but tantalising enough that Cassian bucked into her touch.

And then cunning words, “Maybe I’ll let you watch.”

A string of swear words left Cassian’s mouth. He yanked back from Nesta, as if someone had tugged firmly on a leash. Tugged up his pants and jerked ruthlessly at the ties until they fastened, trapping his cock back into the leather.

With a growl, Cassian waved a hand towards the living room—to Nesta’s room to the right of it. “Leave before I fuck you against the wall, Nesta,” he barked.

Nesta’s sly laugh skittered over his skin, and without pulling her dress back up to cover herself, Nesta sashayed through the nearest arch and disappeared.

*** It had been Mas and Roksana at the door, laden with bags full of groceries and supplies from the market. With full access to the house, there was no reason why they shouldn’t have just come right in. Which meant Mas had suspected somehow, enough so that she had left the bags on the front step and remained standing with Roksana a few feet back.

“I am sorry Sinta, but the meat might spoil,” the housekeeper had apologised as soon as he’d opened the door, his hair a tangled mess from where Nesta had yanked it free of its tie. He hadn’t had the sense to recover it from the floor, but he had righted his tunic and fastened his pants.

And thank the Cauldron for that, because Roksana peeked up at Cassian with wide eyes from her position of safety behind Mas’s legs. He didn’t know when Lorrian had brought the youngling back to the camp, but Cassian guessed it hadn’t been easy on the two of them to take a little girl out of the warmth and back into the snow.

Cassian tried to soften the eyes that he knew were a little wild. He raked his hands through his hair and sent them his most disarming smile, but there was fuck all he could do about his scent. So he thanked her, trying to keep his voice light and conversational. Ordered her to take the rest of the day off.

To the housekeeper’s credit, she did not linger. Had merely nodded and rushed Roksana back into the snow, towards the main vein of the camp.

Yet, whilst the housekeeper’s interruption had been unwanted, it did grant Cassian some breathing space as he rammed perishables into the cool box. Because even though Cassian would allow Nesta to decide how this all played out, he needed to lay down a rule of his own: he could give her the space to decide what she wanted—for him to prove that he could be what she needed—but there was one thing he could not suffer through.

And if they had stormed ahead in a hurricane of lust; with Nesta’s back against the wall as Cassian pounded into her… Well, it would be too late for Cassian to lay down his one condition once they were sweaty and sated. Nesta was more likely to get up and walk away. To not look back.

Cassian found Nesta sitting at the dresser in her room re-braiding back her hair.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Cassian opened his mouth to explain who had been at the door, but an iron band closed fast around his chest, robbing him of breath.

“What are you wearing?” The words came out of him eventually, entirely uneven to the point of being choked.

Because Nesta was wearing his shirt. It was the same steel blue shirt she’d worn that first day in Illyria. The shirt that was an identical match to her eyes, purchased before Cassian had realising what his subconscious had done. A shirt he’d had to hide away in the spare room because Cassian hadn’t been able to bare seeing it in his closet—of being reminded that his mate was a ghost who had banished him away.

Go home, Cassian.

Nesta met Cassian's eyes in the mirror. Announced with cool simplicity, “You ripped my dress.”

“And this is your way of torturing me?”

An indifferent shrug. “Why wear my own clothing when I know what fate it will suffer?”

Cassian knew his nostrils billowed, but he remained propped up against the doorframe. Pretended he was stuck to it like glue because his body was trembling for him to launch across the distance and claim her mouth. Her neck. Her.

The silence seemed to unnerve Nesta. Cassian knew that from months of living with her. From months of studying her slight tells when her masks slipped.

Right on cue, Nesta reset her posture—a gesture that most people read as defiant. But Cassian knew it was also a sign of nerves. She shrugged with feigned indifference, even as her throat tightened and that damned pulse fluttered temptingly against her throat. “You liked it the last time I wore it.”

Cassian huffed a breath. He had liked it the last time she wore it, even if she’d been so gaunt that he’d worried she might wither away. But the shirt… it had put images in his mind that Cassian had long tried to store away, imprisoned in rock and flame: her in his clothing, not fucking other males but him, her lithe legs wrapping around his waist as he sank deep—

Which brought Cassian neatly to the point he needed to discuss with her…

Nesta’s eyes tracked Cassian in the mirror as he peeled himself out of the doorway and came to stand behind her. When their eyes locked into place, it felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. There was something deep in Nesta’s gaze that made it feel as if he was tumbling down a rabbit hole, that magnetism between them drawing him in like gravity.

When Cassian’s fingers brushed Nesta’s neck—ran down the braid she had draped over her shoulder—Nesta shivered. “You had your hair down then,” he rasped. Didn’t wait for her to protest, as he slowly coaxed the tie free from the end of her hair.

Nesta turned preternaturally still, watched him gently part her hair in the mirror until it fell free from her plait, his calloused fingers brushing over her skin as he coaxed her hair to fall down her back.

The pulse hammering at her throat and the warmth radiating from her skin were the only indications that Nesta was alive rather than stone.

Only when Cassian had finished and lifted his hands from her neck, did Nesta come back to life.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. But she cocked her head slightly to dissect him. “It’s a nuisance like this. It gets in the way.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cassian corrected, his voice rasping, like sand scraping against skin. He ran a hand through her hair as if to emphasise his point, his fingers running down, down, down until her waist.

When Nesta stood and turned into the warmth of him, Cassian scented what she wanted. But there was something else simmering in her expression—surprise. As if she’d caught the truth in his words and hadn’t expected someone to truly think her beautiful.

She stepped closer, until the lines of her torso ghosted his. Until Cassian’s heart pounded so hard he could hear the frantic tempo of it in his ears. Nesta tilted her head back so she could stare up at him and Cassian’s hand weaved through the mane of her hair before he could stop himself.

He was desperate to touch her again. Desperate.

But Cassian waited. Waited for Nesta to reach up on tiptoes and press her mouth to his.

The kiss was not like their bruised, desperate kisses from earlier. It was coaxing and unsure; the tentative beginning of something that was not merely fuelled by ardour. But it soon blossomed into something more, like a snowball rolling down a mountain blanketed white, gaining speed as it grew and grew—

Dragging his mouth away from hers, Cassian fought for breath. Battled to remember what he needed to do and say. But then Nesta was tugging his head back down again, her fingers tangled in his hair, the gesture indicative of an insistent need that Cassian knew would not go away.

As always, Nesta tasted divine. Addictive. He could taste the curl of her power on his tongue—silver and white, life and death—and he wondered if she could taste his. Knew his siphons were glowing scarlet—

“Nesta,” he murmured hoarsely, her name a caress against her lips. He couldn’t invoke a distance between them, couldn’t stop touching her. His nose brushed hers as her drew back an infinitesimal amount. Closed his eyes. Inhaled deeply, summoning courage. “You can dictate how this goes between us. But if we do this, I can’t—there’s no-one else. Just you and me.”

The subsequent pause was one of the worst of Cassian’s life. It was barely a breath. The blink of an eye. But it felt as if it was malleable and elastic, drawn out by the hands of fate as everything suspended in time.

He didn’t want to open his eyes, but in the end he managed it. Caught Nesta’s eyelashes flutter downwards, casting shadows on her skin. Her fists tightened in the fabric of his tunic, anchoring him to the moment.

She swallowed. Shook her head. Agreed with a conviction he had not been expecting, “No-one else.”

The relief that swooped through Cassian was so fierce it was painful. But he still didn’t dare to believe it.

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger so Nesta could not look away. So he could look into the deep waters of her irises and know she was telling him the truth.

But her gaze was steady and unwavering, as he demanded, “Say it again.”

His voice cracked but Nesta didn’t appear to notice. Her grip on him tightened. “No-one else,” she repeated on an outward breath.

A low, ravaged moan sounded from Cassian’s throat. “Diyosa,” he murmured, slipping into Illyrian. Goddess.

“Bruha,” Nesta corrected. She fumbled over the pronunciation but Cassian felt as if he had been an ember that had burst into flame. Witch.

He let out a rough bark of laughter. Then he swore in a long, drawn out moan. “No Illyrian,” he ordered roughly. Pressed his mouth firmly against hers, the kiss searing. “Otherwise this will be over far too quickly.” Another kiss. “And I want to take my time.”

The smile Nesta painted against Cassian’s lips was feline. “You’ve made a lot of promises, General. I hope you don’t disappoint.”

Cassian snarled. Spun her body until her back was cradled against his chest. “I have, haven’t I?” he mused lightly, even though the hammering of his heart must have beat a betraying rhythm against her shoulder blade.

In the mirror, Nesta’s expression grew less poised and controlled. Delight mixed with anticipation clung to her features at this game they played; this tussle for control. She did not try to wrangle free from his hold or shift uncomfortably in his arms at having her back enclosed against his.

It thrilled him—that trust. Enough so that when he met her eyes in the mirror, Cassian found that his irises had been swallowed by his pupils until they were only a ring of chocolate gold.

Slowly, Cassian brushed Nesta’s hair over to one shoulder with his left hand. Traced his fingers down the arc of her neck to her collarbone. Continued a path down the centre of her chest, to the pyrite which glittered between her breasts.

When his fingers met the first button of his shirt, Cassian toyed with it. Purposefully grazed his nose against the shell of her ear. “Shall I start here?” he murmured. “Undress you in front of the mirror whilst you watch?”

Nesta suppressed a shudder, but Cassian caught it. Could swear he felt her blood boiling beneath her skin as he slipped the button free of its hole. Then another. And another. Until there were no more buttons and the material hung free.

Leaning back into his body, Nesta rested her head against his chest. Curved her back slightly so her chest thrust upwards, silently instructing him where she wanted his hands.

And Cassian couldn’t deny her. He turned his palm so it was face up and curled into a loose fist. Brushed his knuckles down her sternum all the way to her bared naval, before bringing it back up. His fingers ran up the side of the material free of buttons, until he was at her collarbone—her shoulder—leaving a litter of goosebumps in his wake.

This time, Cassian snickered when she shivered. Dropped a slow and deliberate kiss to her bare shoulder as he slowly, slowly inched the material down, down, down over her arm. Repeated the motion on the other, until the shirt pooled onto the floor, exposing her bare body to the mirror: endless creamy skin, divine curves, the luscious full weight of her bare breasts, and… lower.

Nesta’s eyes, which had been tracking the fabric as it fell away, snapped to his as a feral growl ripped from him. And she moaned at the expression on his face. Grabbed at his hands, pulling them to her body.

“Touch me,” Nesta hissed, but it came out strangled. Almost pleading. Another crack in her armour as it broke and fell away.

The sight was enough to threaten Cassian to his knees. He guided her body backwards, his hands splaying firmly across her stomach despite her whine, until his legs hit the edge of the mattress

Neither of them broke eye contact in the mirror. Not when Cassian coaxed Nesta down to sit on the bed with him. Not when he pulled her between his legs, her back firmly against his chest. Not when he bowed his head to kiss the slope between her neck and shoulder.

When Cassian finally brushed a thumb over her nipple, Nesta back bowed so fiercely Cassian was thankful he had an arm strapped across her stomach.

The small noise she loosed fuelled his fire and Cassian held on to her. Stroked over that peaked nipple again as Nesta careened into his touch. Followed it with a firmer roll with his thumb and forefinger. Used the fingertips of his other hand to draw slow, tantalising circles across the silken skin of her lower stomach, before he moved southwards…

The air around them hushed when Cassian’s fingers stilled. Anticipation built and only when it vibrated with tension did Cassian slide his hands to cradle Nesta’s hips.

A snarl of frustration, but Cassian paid the sound no heed. Only grazed his thumbs over Nesta’s hipbones. Watched her expression in the mirror—the way her face contorted as she squirmed into his touch as if she was a puppet on strings. Ground back onto him, pressing into that building ache that was bordering on painful.

Fuck, Nesta.

Cassian wasn’t sure if he had spoken out loud or in his head, all he knew was the blessed, fleeting relief he felt as he bucked into the small of Nesta’s back on instinct. He was rock hard and thirsting to be touched, but the thickening scent of Nesta’s arousal pulled his focus.

A groan rumbled from Cassian’s throat as Nesta’s hand darted between her legs. He caught her wrist just in the nick of time. Kissed the heart of her palm. Rumbled into her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

His voice was coarse enough that Nesta shivered, the goosebumps travelling down her skin like a cresting wave. She didn’t struggle against him, nor did she move to disobey him as he dropped her wrist. Instead, she waited, trembling and shaking at every pass of his thumbs over her skin.

Cassian buried his nose behind the shell of her ear. Breathed Nesta in, steadying the drum of his pulse.

Not once did he take his eyes off of hers in the mirror, especially as he murmured, “Shall we find out if you’re wet for me?”

Nesta squeezed her eyes tightly shut, as if the movement would steady her. Swallowed hard. It was so unlike her to take stock, to show any signs that she was rattled, that Cassian softened. He nuzzled at her neck, trailed a line of kisses instilled with promises. A hand flew up to tangle in Cassian’s hair, keeping him there.

“Yes.”

The word stuttered out of Nesta on several staccatos, but she forced her eyes open and met his gaze in the mirror. Watched as he pulled her tighter against him and hooked her legs over his thighs so she was spread wide. Slipped his hand across and down…

The first ghost of a touch had Nesta panting through her nose. The second had her gritting her teeth. The third had her moaning, her back bowing so sharply as he skimmed straight over the place she wanted him the most.

Her head hit the centre of his chest with a resounding thud that had his bones creaking, but she did not look away from him. Seemed to know the game they were playing without him having to express it.

When Cassian brought his fingers lower and discovered just how wet Nesta was, he had to force his wings in tight to his back to hide his surprise. Growled, “You’re soaked.”

Pleasure and embarrassment twisted in Cassian’s stomach, and Cassian wanted to tell her that it was not something to be ashamed of, that he wanted her just as much as she clearly wanted his fingers between her legs.

Her eyes glinted steel, her stare commanding. “Make me come—“ she ordered, but Cassian chose that moment to roll his finger over that spot at the apex of her thighs.

The command bottomed out of Nesta as she inhaled sharply. Satisfaction bloomed inside of Cassian; because he may have done this countless times before but barely enough with her. And nothing seemed to matter apart from him seeking out her satisfaction. Of learning about what made her body freeze with pleasure and what made her come undone. “There?” he murmured into her ear, repeating the movement, before he passed his fingers down further. Until they were at her entrance, playing gently before he drew upwards and circled.

This time, Nesta groaned. Her hips jerked sharply beneath him, tilting, guiding him to just the right place.

Picking up on the cue, Cassian increased the tempo and friction until Nesta’s hips were rolling in a punishing rhythm against the hard length of him.

And Cassian snarled in satisfaction, his fingers tightening around her hip in a plea for her to keep moving—to not stop pushing back on him—because it was blissfully good. The rapid tightening in his groin was almost painful, the cord so tight that Cassian thought it might snap. But he couldn’t stop Nesta, not when she looked so bewitching, the arousal so stark on her face as he stroked and circled and pressed.

Burning pleasure clambered to its peak and Nesta’s eyes grew so heavy they fluttered closed. Something unintelligible left her lips, her head tipping back into the heart of his chest.

When Nesta’s arms wound around his neck, her knuckles accidentally grazing the leather of his wings, Cassian part-snarled, part-roared. Swore. Held her even tighter as his wings snapped out high and mighty behind him. They wrapped around Nesta’s body before Cassian’s pleasure-fogged mind could stop them curling towards her, starved for her touch.

Fuck, he was unhinged. So desperate for relief—in the scent and feel of his mate—that his control was barely there. Enough so that he didn’t react when Nesta reached out her hand—

Sense knocked Cassian for six only when Nesta’s fingers were millimetres from touching the membrane. He drew back his wings so fast the air around them stormed, but he swooped in before surprise could register on Nesta’s face. Dipped his chin and coaxed her head even further back so he could claim her mouth.

The taste of her lips was as vital as breathing, the scrape of her nails on his scalp grounding. He moaned into her mouth at the same time as she whimpered. His hand was still moving between her legs, interchanging the same three patterns over and over again, mixing things up as soon as Nesta’s moans grew too untamed: he wanted to draw out her pleasure, not sate it with a few choice strokes.

Pulling away, Cassian pressed a kiss to her forehead. Coaxed her to dip her chin until she was looking back at their reflection in the mirror: ebony and golden brown, tan and cream.

Nesta’s irises were wisps of silver, but when he traversed past that bundle of nerves so he could slip two fingers inside of her, they flickered into living flame.

That was indication enough that she liked what he was doing. Cassian had quickly learnt that Nesta became completely readable between the sheets, that mask slowly crumbling away until she broke completely.

Curving his fingers as much as he could, Cassian pressed upwards hard—again and again— revelling in the strangled sounds Nesta made. The way she writhed but tried her best to hold his gaze.

Cassian dropped a lingering kiss to the crown of Nesta’s head. Murmured into her hair, “Is that good, sweetheart?”

The only response Cassian received was a long moan which extended into a whine as he withdrew his fingers. Then a sharp cry as he swept them upwards, swirling them in a well-practiced motion that had Nesta’s lower half seizing in pleasure.

Cassian circled again. Again. Firmer. Faster. Nesta’s cries grew louder, her breathing became more laboured. A silver wreathed hand flew to his forearm—not to stop him, but to keep him there.

Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

The bond between them creaked and cracked as it expanded.

Nesta panted his name.

“Are you going to come for me, sweetheart?” Cassian scratched out.

In vain, Nesta attempted to burrow her head into his shoulder, but Cassian’s voice dropped out of soft and into the role of general within the fraction of a heartbeat. “Eyes on the mirror, Nesta, or I’ll stop.”

It seemed to take all of Nesta’s energy to fight her leaded eyelids and meet his dark eyes in their reflection. When she did, Cassian’s magic roared and pounded beneath his skin, as if it was trying to break free and join Nesta’s. There was a pressure and power fuelling the sensation that was separate to him. It was like the magnetic force which rules the relentless ebb and flow of the tide—that desperate crash followed by a scrabbling, thundering retreat.

That twisted rope between them grew corporeal, tugging at their ribcages as if it was clambering to remind them both of its existence. Of the cost of this exchange.

Something deepened in both of their gazes, but if Nesta had felt what Cassian had, she gave no indication. She only arched her hips back into his, grinding backwards.

Cassian loosed a rough groan that skittered across the shell of her ear. Her gaze was purposeful but hooded, as if she was in a continual battle with the pleasure weighting her eyelids.

“Good girl,” he praised as Nesta’s eyelashes fluttered from the strain of maintaining eye contact. And then his fingers were everywhere at once and Nesta’s moans fell away to short gasps that rose in volume.

Nesta tightened her fingers around his neck, scrabbling for purchase, for some sort of tether as her pleasure launched high into the air. The hand that had been at her hip, steadying her, encouraging her to roll back on him moved to her breast; cupping and pinching and rolling as she stuttered pants and words that Cassian couldn’t make out.

When Cassian slid two fingers inside of her again and pressed down firmly on her clit with his palm, Nesta’s cry was wild.

“Look at me,” Cassian ordered as Nesta’s eyes flew shut. His voice was resonant—startling—even to him. It punched through the bubble that had encased them—their entwined scent—and Nesta’s eyes snapped open.

For a beat, time seemed to stand still around them. Their gaze fastened back into place and for a moment, Cassian could see a conflict of thoughts swirl in the magic of Nesta’s irises.

He froze just as anguish crashed down that bond, right into the heart of his chest.

It knocked the breath from him. Confusion rattled inside of his head but he came up empty of answers. Had he gone too far? Had he hurt her somehow?

“Sweetheart—“ he started, but stopped. Unsure of what to say because he could still smell how much she wanted this. Could feel how soaked she was. But perhaps that was what the mating bond did. Fooled reason with an overwhelming drive to pleasure and claim.

Cassian went to draw his hand away but Nesta’s hand whipped out, her fingers curling around his wrist. Desperation flooded her next words—the plea in them stark. “Don’t stop.”

As if to punctuate her point, she rolled her hips. His fingers slid over her of her own accord and she stumbled a moan. Light barrelled down the bond and Cassian’s blood spiked, thrilled as he felt the truth of her words, as she ground back into him again.

“Fuck that feels good,” Cassian grunted into her ear. His hips pushed into the small of her back, accentuating his point. It chased the delicious reprieve from the ache in his cock, even as he knew this moment wasn’t about him. As he pulled her back into the solid muscle of his chest, steadying her movements so he could pick up where he left off: so he could watch the pleasure whip away her conflicted expression until her eyes were once again blazing with the promise of flame.

Silver mist climbed from Nesta’s fingertips into the air. It crawled over the glowing ruby siphons across the backs of his hands, past the corded muscle of his forearm and the rolled up sleeves of his tunic, to his chest, his neck…

A sheen of metal shone in Cassian’s eyes, flickering across his irises so they appeared to turn a metallic gold. The lick of Nesta’s magic didn’t burn. It was a rush of heat—the tender caress of a lover’s kiss instilled into his skin over and over again, ascending Cassian to another realm of pleasure, as if he’d climbed a staircase to an entirely new place.

It felt like an extended method of foreplay Cassian had never been privy to before, lighting up every nerve ending until he was so hard he could cut stone.

Gritting his teeth through the pain-cloaked pleasure, Cassian focussed instead on Nesta’s bare skin.

The tempting fullness of her breasts. The way desire had completely rewritten her countenance. The way she whimpered and then cried out.

Cassian sped up his movements. Until his fingers were no longer teasing, but dancing over her with sure, quick movements designed to thrust her towards a crescendo.

Nesta’s magic swirled into flame, the heat of it a licking promise down Cassian’s limbs. He groaned, swore at the exquisite pain on her face as she hung at the precipice, ready to plummet into rapture.

Her climax became a tangible, living thing and Cassian wanted to see it play out for as long as he possible could. Wanted to see her break for him again and again and again.

So, he waited until she reached the summit and when she was there he slowed down his movements. Ordered through her whimpering, “Look at me Nesta.”

Metallic irises met his, and then Nesta was trembling and shaking in fits and bursts as her release ripped out of her like a taut cord cut loose. Cassian drew her orgasm out as best he could, suspending that pleasure until finally Nesta slumped against him, spineless.

She turned her head to bury it in his shoulder and Cassian let her. Stroked her hair. Pressed a kiss to her sweaty head. Murmured, “Good?”

Slowly, Nesta nodded, but for a long while, that was the only communication he received. But Cassian let her recover. Watched the way her ribcage moved as she heaved for breath. Relished the way her body was splayed out over him, her legs held wide open from where they were hooked over his thighs.

Unable to help himself, Cassian brushed over her sex. Delighted in the way Nesta shuddered rather than batted him away. Fresh desire reignited across her expression and Cassian played gently for a few minutes, revelling in the wetness that had gathered from her release.

Finally, Nesta lifted her head to meet his gaze again. “Did I burn you?”

“No,” Cassian replied hoarsely, his heart squeezing at the genuine fear in her words. He let out a rough laugh, passed his fingers lightly over the knot at the apex of her legs for the last time before he withdrew them.

Nesta moaned softly, even as her brow twisted into a small frown.

“It felt good,” Cassian elaborated. He kissed her shoulder at the same time that he pushed his hips into hers as if to demonstrate just how much he’d liked her magic. “I’m being strangled to death in these pants,” he confessed.

When Nesta cocked her head, her hair moved in a golden tangle. Then she smirked. Unravelled her limbs from him and turned.

Nesta slung her legs over his waist so she was straddling him just as Cassian’s hands caught in her hair. A booming sounded as his wings snapped out and fanned behind him, settling like falling fabric.

“We can’t have that,” Nesta remarked, her breath a whisper against his skin.

“No,” Cassian agreed roughly. “It’s your favourite part.”

Nesta snorted a laugh, but it was not derisive. “Egotistical bat,” she muttered.

A slow, smug smile was Cassian’s only reply. Because he was more focussed on her mouth. With the feel of her silken skin beneath his palms as he ran them up her legs and over her rounded ass. His touch was a promise as he tugged her into his body and ground up into her core, the seam of his trousers doing nothing to relieve the damning ache in his cock.

Together they gasped, and then, as always, they moved at the same time, their mouths slanting one another within a fraction of a second.

The heat of Nesta was liquid, the touch of her smoke—feverish and everywhere all at once. It was the same heat that had roared into existence when Cassian had pinned her against the wall earlier, yet… better somehow. Passionate and awake rather than fogged with lust. Life-giving.

A shuddered groan was pulled from Cassian’s chest as Nesta’s hands slid beneath his tunic and met his burning skin. And then the tunic was on the floor—the rest of his clothing was torn from him soon after. It all happened at such speed Cassian could barely keep up, but when Nesta reached for his bare, burning skin—the tattoos on his arms and the faint scar on his stomach—her fingers were gentle.

“Battle scar,” Cassian panted in explanation, as Nesta’s fingers lingered on the silvery tissue that wound over his lower abdomen: a permanent reminder of what had happened to him during the final battle with Hybern. “The trauma was too great for Madja to heal completely.”

“I remember,” Nesta replied shortly and she looked so fierce that Cassian reached for her. Cupped her cheek with his palm.

“Still breathing, Nes.”

Nesta nodded, but when she kissed him this time there was something fierce and desperate about it, her fingers burying deeper into the mane of his hair.

And then a hand was trailing down his skin and closing around his cock. The touch was sinful and a glimpse of the heavens. When he hissed into her mouth, Nesta gripped tighter—until pain laced the pleasure—just how he liked it.

His groan was that of rumbling thunder as she began to move her hand. It was everything Cassian needed, but it was too much, too good. He scrambled to hold on to some sense of control, because he’d never been this close to losing it from just a few touches.

Then Nesta stopped. Glanced downwards—

The realisation thumped through Cassian so loudly his heartbeat punched like a fist against his ribcage.

“Don’t you dare,” Cassian choked out.

Nesta’s eyes shot to his, but rather than looking startled she arched a challenging eyebrow.

“If you so much as try to put my cock in your mouth I’ll explode,” Cassian rasped.

Before she could protest, he was gathering her to him and had slipped a hand down between her legs.

Just the touch of his fingers had Cassian seizing back control. Nesta stilled at the sudden pleasure, as if she was trying to coax time into suspending the sensation.

“Still so wet,” Cassian purred against the tip of her ear.

Gliding his fingers over the centre of her, Cassian paused briefly at the apex of her legs, toying with her clit, before he ran them back down. When he drew his fingers back, rubbing them together and raising them to the faelight, they glittered.

Nesta’s nostrils flared as if she was an animal in heat. And Cassian knew before he spoke that his voice? would be what pushed them over the edge. But he said it anyway, his voice dropping impossibly low, “Is this all for me?”

Nesta launched at him until their mouths collided, until they were nothing but a clash of teeth and tongues, their skin so flush they may as well have been fused together.

Burying her fingers deeper into the tangled mane of his hair, Nesta tugged sharply. Met his gaze head on. Demanded, “Fuck me.”

All it took was those two words. Cassian moved, flipping them so Nesta’s back was flush against the mattress. He covered her body with his and Nesta whined at the contact, her body bending and arching towards him as if she were a plant and he was sunlight.

Cassian ran a hand up her bare thigh to her ass, coaxing her leg to bend, but Nesta was too impatient. She broke free from the weight of his body, repositioning herself until legs were wrapped tightly around his hips.

An uneven laugh choked out of him. “So stubborn,” Cassian chided darkly, but he allowed his hips to fall into the cradle of hers. Hissed as he loosed his control and thrust so his cock could glide through her centre. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Nesta, fuck.”

Nesta’s breathy whine fuelled the sparks of pleasure that crackled through him like static energy. He kissed her hard. “There’s a high probability I won’t survive this.”

The snort Nesta loosed tried to sound unaffected, but her voice shook as she accused him, “Liar.”

But he wasn’t lying. And Nesta knew it. She had to know it because his walls were now shattered around them in splintered shards.

Yet, Cassian found himself assuring her. “Not lying," he grunted as he passed over her again. Pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth—a parting goodbye as he moved to kiss the underside of her jaw, down the column of her throat. Down further, to flick his tongue and scrape his teeth over both nipples.

He moaned when she moaned; their sounds a chorus of want until he couldn’t take it anymore. Cassian’s claws clipped around the metal of the bed frame at the same time that he pushed off of the palms that were framing her face, until he was on his knees before her.

Despite the desire coursing through him, Cassian’s head was nothing but clear as he slid his hands under Nesta’s ass and lifted her effortlessly, positioning her so that the undersides of her thighs were flush against his knees.

Nesta’s hair was tousled over the pillow, her lips swollen and parted as she surveyed him. When she tried to wrap her legs back around his hips, Cassian held firm. And despite the fact that Nesta listened to nobody, she allowed him to bend her knees and press his calloused palms to the insides of her thighs in silent instruction.

They fell open and a growl rumbled in Cassian’s throat. His hand was fisting his cock, lining it up to her entrance before he knew what was happening. But then he remembered the pain from before. And even though Nesta was more than ready for him, the thought of hurting her made him feel physically sick.

When he moved away, Nesta let out a strangled noise. A hand shot out, closing around his wrist. “You said you’d fuck me.”

Cassian wanted to explain, but that meant alluding to that tie between them, that instinct that couldn’t allow him to see her hurt. Cassian knew Nesta wasn’t ready for that. Knew that if he so much as breathed a word about it that this precious moment would fall away.

And Cassian was selfish. He had to see how this played out. Had to know if Nesta could grow to accept the bond between them—deem him worthy enough to accept something that was Cauldron blessed.

So, he only drawled, “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

One swift movement had Cassian gathering Nesta into his arms. This time, he allowed Nesta’s legs to wind around him. She gripped him like a vice and Cassian knew it wasn’t from fear of him dropping her. When he sat back against the headboard and guided her onto his lap, Cassian expected her to bite out a comment about doing all of the work, but Nesta only let out a pleased sound. Weaved a hand back into his ebony hair. Wrapped a tight fist around his length, twisting once at the tip, before she guided him to her entrance.

Cassian hissed a curse as she closed around the head. Murmured her name into her mouth. Gripped tightly at her hips when she didn’t stop sinking down on him, as he felt that pain mixed with the sweetest pleasure.

“Nesta.” The way he said her name was firm and commanding, but he still had to dig his fingers hard enough into her skin that he was sure it would leave temporary bruises. The thought made him falter, but then that sharp pain flared again as she resisted against him, and he knew that the bruises were a necessary evil. “Nesta,” he barked, “Go slowly.”

Something creaked and cracked between them. A stretching, growing pain reached its fingers down that bond, the sensation strong rather than constricted as it fought to make its way down their usually thin tie.

Nails dug into Cassian’s neck. A whimper sounded in his ears as Nesta fell forwards, burying her face into his neck. “Please,” she whined in frustration. “Cassian—”

She broke off as she clamped down around him and Cassian felt an ebb of pleasure cut through the pain—that promise of something more.

“Don’t make me hurt you, sweetheart,” Cassian pleaded and the rawness in his voice stopped her resisting against him. He eased a hand between them, touched her right where she wanted him. Allowed her to tug his face upwards so she could kiss him. It was infused with desperation and Cassian eased his hold on her hip. Allowed her to lower herself downwards until she had slid another inch deeper. Continued to stroke her until Nesta began to shake.

“I’m going to—,” Nesta gasped against his mouth. Her body trembled and Cassian’s blood roared at bringing her to the edge again so soon, despite the pain. “Cassian—”

Abruptly, Cassian moved his hand away.

Nesta’s snarl whipped around the room, but Cassian smoothed the sound away by fusing his mouth on hers. She stopped shaking but the sharp bite of Nesta’s glare pierced its teeth through his flesh in a flash of silver.

“It will be better if you wait,” Cassian gritted out in explanation when they parted. Nesta’s breath gusted against his skin. “And I don’t think I can hold on if you come so soon. You feel so good, Nesta. So tight.”

As if on cue, Nesta contracted around him and Cassian ground his teeth together so hard that the muscle in his jaw worked. But he let Nesta slide down on him another inch. Then another. And another. Until their hips were finally flush with one another and that pain had bled away until it was nothing.

The moaned words that fell from Nesta were indistinguishable, but he felt her tremor. Felt that surge inside of him as Nesta repeated herself with a whine that indicated she was toppling over the ledge of control, like a glass teetering before it fell.

And then she was moving and Cassian let her. He was unable to think or breathe. Could only focus on the feel of her.

“Fuck,” Cassian groaned. His head thunked back hard against the headboard as she ground her hips into his, testing the feel of him. “This is better than I’d dreamed.”

No soft snicker, only an untamed whine. Then teeth scraping a sinful path down his neck to his pulse.

Cassian’s hips kicked up hard as her teeth nipped.

“Sorry,” he gasped, because even though Nesta had told him not to hold back, he was still concerned about hurting her. But Nesta’s fingernails bit into his skin and her body moulded to him—a delicious second skin—as she inhaled sharply. “Again,” she demanded with a fierceness that did not allow disobedience. “Do that again—”

It didn’t take a second command for Cassian to thrust up hard. And true to her word, Nesta took him all. Did not change her mind and ask him to hold back. Instead, Cassian knew that this was exactly what she wanted—no, needed. She needed this punishing rhythm just as much as he did.

And it felt… incredible. Beyond anything Cassian had ever felt before. The blood roaring in his ears intermingled with Nesta’s cries and the slap of his hips meeting hers, was the only thing he could hear, his senses narrowed down to the sensation of her wrapped around him, so tight …

It was too good. It threatened to break him, to take everything that he was and reform it entirely, as if he was going to shatter and be pieced back together as someone else entirely. The air around them became taut with pressure, tanning leather stretched too tight over a rack, as if their joining controlled one of the essential elements.

“Cassian.” That one word threatened to break him. Not bat or it or you, only his name falling from her lips as if it was their secret. “More.”

Exhaling a curse, Cassian planted his feet firmly on the mattress and thrust up with as much vigour as he could muster. The movement had them slipping from their upright position and Cassian’s claws absent-mindedly closed around the metal bed frame, strapping them in for the ride as his body coiled and tensed as he slammed into her over and over.

Nesta cried out. Grabbed fistfuls of his hair as they moved together as if they had been made for this moment, their wild gasps melded together until they were one.

Only when release teetered too close to the edge did Cassian drop the rhythm. Cupped the breasts he had dreamed of more times than he could count. The breasts he’d had the privilege of seeing bare and glorious only twice before.

Capturing a nipple between his teeth, Cassian scraped his teeth hard enough that Nesta stopped rocking and angled her hips until he was pressing impossibly deep inside her. She whimpered. Clenched and unclenched. Throbbed in a way that told him she was as close as he was—that if he wasn’t so close himself, he could drive her over the edge with a few well-timed thrusts.

The understanding had him letting out a jagged groan. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

A whine in response, but Cassian didn’t let it go. He raked back the hair from her sweaty forehead. Pressed his lips to her swollen ones in a lingering kiss. Watched the frown that knitted her brow as she was overtaken by the feel of them.

“What do you need, Nesta. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

Nesta wound her hands around his head, buried her face into his neck. Began swaying and circling her hips in a rhythm that was dictated purely by the chase of pleasure. “Just… this,” she panted. “I just need this.”

Then it was only the licking fire of her breath against his skin. The magic that curled around them like a heated blanket and the building anticipation of both of their releases, which pulled at him like a strange sort of magnetism, begging him to fall with her in unison.

“Cassian—” Nesta began in warning, but he had already felt her begin to quake, as if the ground was moving beneath their feet—the mountains trembling.

That pull became a driving force—a cresting wave of pleasure so profound that Cassian felt that twist inside of him—that signal that he was about to join her.

He groaned, jerking his head back so it collided with wood, the pain grounding him enough that he could say, “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

As soon as the words left his lips, Nesta broke, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask it of her. Her cry was muffled and Cassian wanted to tear her mouth from his neck—to hear her break for him—but then she was sinking her teeth into his skin right over his pulse.

Roaring, Cassian kicked his hips up hard on instinct as she marked him, but the shock distracted him. Clouded the desperate clamber of his release so he could hold himself back.

Cassian held tightly onto Nesta as she slumped against him. When she lifted her teeth from him, Nesta whined like an animal. Dragged her tongue over the dent she’d made in his neck—once, twice, three times.

He shuddered. Couldn’t help it. Turned his face into her hair. Breathed her in. The gesture was tender, like an animal tending to the wound of a significant other—its mate.

And wrapped in this moment, Cassian could almost believe that this was something more than sex for Nesta as her forehead came to rest on his collarbone. As she kissed the hollow of his throat. Then the knot. His lips.

“Good?” Cassian asked softly. He lifted a hand to her face, ran a calloused thumb over her cheekbone.

Nesta made a rare, content sound that vibrated through him like a balm. She leant into his hand, her eyelashes swooping down.

When she finally pulled back to survey him, her eyes were still dark. She shifted her hips. Moaned quietly. Rasped, “You’re still hard.”

It was a miracle Cassian hadn’t followed. If it hadn’t been for her teeth in his neck, Cassian would have been wrestling with the embarrassment of finishing too soon.

“I was too preoccupied with your teeth in my neck.”

A flush crept its way up Nesta’s face, like vines reaching their wicked encroaching fingers up a wall. But she raised her chin. “You wanted me to do it.”

It was true, he had wanted her to. And he wanted to do the same to her—to mark her as his so everyone would know that she was off limits for the brief hours before her body healed.

“And what about you?”

The patter of Nesta’s heart broke into a sprint. It was the only thing that betrayed her feelings, her expression devoid of any reaction. “What do you mean?”

Cassian leant forward until their noses brushed. Lifted his eyebrows. “Do you want me to bite you, Nesta?”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. If she had wings, they’d have flung wide by now. Would have collided with furniture and cut through air.

That was answer enough.

In one movement, Cassian lifted himself up and over, until Nesta was on her back and he was pressing her body into the mattress. Breath gushed out of her lungs but it was not from fear, not as Nesta turned herself out bare and tilted her chin for him—for once not in defiance but as an act of vulnerability—of complete and utter trust.

Every instinct in Cassian clambered to the surface, but he closed a fist around it until its life fluttered against the cage of his palms and fingers: his to control, rather than the other way around.

Slowly, Cassian lowered his nose to the exposed skin and breathed her in: her scent and the life that pummelled beneath her skin, the roaring of her blood as it crashed through her veins. It took everything in him not to move inside of her, to thrust up hard and feel the way her breasts would move against his chest.

“I could do it right here,” Cassian murmured, his mouth ghosting over the pale column of her neck until he came across that pulse. He brushed a tongue across it.

The movement was a mirror of what he’d done before in the human realm and Nesta knew it. But this time she did not jerk back from him demanding what he’d done. Instead, her body drew up beneath him, exposing more of her neck, begging for more.

Cassian groaned, raking his teeth over that swell at the same time that he pushed in deep. Nesta’s groan was guttural and everything. His blood turned molten, so hot that he expected his skin to melt away until he was nothing but bones.

“Please,” Nesta panted, her fingers tightening around his back.

Another flick of his tongue over her pulse. “Do you want me to bite you or fuck you?”

“Both.”

That was enough to loosen the fist on Cassian’s control. He sat back on his knees, prying her hands from his neck, coaxing her fingers until they were above her head and clasped around the railings of the headboard. Nesta’s breasts rose with the movement, her peaked nipples so tempting he bent to take one into his mouth. Then the other. Suckled until she mewled and her nipples were no longer rosy but red from his attention.

Cassian lifted his head and surveyed Nesta. Warned her, “Hold on tight.”

And then there was no thinking, no worrying or desperation to hold back. It all came as easy as breathing, their tempo,the snap of his hips and the shift of the mattress as her body shouldered the impact. At some point, Cassian’s body fell over hers, needing to feel every inch of her against him. His wild, punishing rhythm dropped into a rough rocking that was intimate at the same time it was claiming.

Nesta didn’t seem to mind—let out a pleased moan of consent, her legs clamping tighter around his hips until they were flush with hers. When he next moved she whined, and Cassian felt that change inside of her—somehow—that twisting fist of pleasure that glimmered down the bond, pushing against the walls of that thread, pushing it wider and wider, like a heart expanding.

Silver-wreathed fingers tugged his head down until Nesta could claim his mouth, fusing them together so they were complete. Cassian shuddered as her fire cascaded from her fingertips and down his body. His magic, attracted to hers, began to suck out of his pores, but it didn’t leech him of power. Instead, it was like his magic was searching for its mate, desperate to be reunited.

Then that sensation again, as if Cassian had ducked beneath something and had come up for air somewhere else.

Ruby greeted silver like a long-lost lover, blending until their magic was a metallic sheen of scarlet—a fog that misted their bodies, rubbing tantalisingly against their skin as they rocked and moaned their way to release.

“Don’t stop,” Nesta begged desperately through stuttered breaths, and Cassian wondered how many times she’d reached this pinnacle with other males only for it to be taken from her.

Cassian’s hand found its way to her face, his thumb stroking over her cheek as that coiled release twisted across her devastatingly beautiful face. “Can’t,” he panted honestly, his other hand searching for hers across the mattress until he was clasping it—holding on for dear life. “I’m so close, sweetheart. You have no idea how good you feel.”

“Come with me then,” Nesta pleaded. Her eyelashes had fluttered downwards as she took in a sharp breath of pleasure, but now they opened. Stared deep into his soul. “Come with me—”

Then her body turned both loose and taut, clamping yet completely molten as her release ripped out of her.

“Fuck,” Cassian swore. Invisible hands clasped around his ass, tugging him deeper—deeper. Everything in him tightened as Nesta crashed around him, and that siren called to him, singing her name, over and over as pleasure clawed at him, desperate to whip out of him.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

Cassian launched at her neck, his teeth sinking deep enough to claim as Nesta cried out, her body trembling as he continued to thrust into her, wringing out her release at the same time he desperately clambered towards his own.

He managed to pull out just in time, his teeth still deep in her neck, his release spilling hot onto her stomach in bursts of pleasure.

And even though Cassian had vowed to bite her and Nesta had already marked him, he found himself apologising at the red, angry dents in her skin. How was it that he couldn’t bare to hurt her but biting her neck was a completely different story?

“Sorry,” Cassian rasped. His mouth was as dry as a desert as he gingerly touched his fingers to the marks, but Nesta’s fingers clasped around his, halting him. Then she raised her other hand and brushed her knuckles over the identical marking on his. Reminding him that she’d done the same—had been the first to do it.

“I liked it,” Nesta admitted brazenly, but she didn’t stop him from dragging his tongue over the marks. Shivered instead. Held his head to her.

“That was intense,” Cassian rasped eventually against her ear, after the quiet had settled over them like a blanket. He nuzzled at her neck again, unable to help it—just one more precious moment like this until he had to pull away.

When Cassian pulled back to meet Nesta’s eyes, he found that the blue bled back into her irises. “It was always going to be intense,” she replied frankly.

Then Nesta looked down at her body, as if she’d only just remembered how he’d marked her in a different way. “You didn’t have to do that—pull out. I can take a tonic.”

Cassian hadn’t wanted to pull out at all—and neither had that tie which bound them together—but that wasn’t the point. “I’d rather be cautious,” he explained—a little too shortly, because Nesta bristled.

“Neither of us have had a tonic in a while,” Cassian elaborated when Nesta’s expression hardened.

He tried not to think about how his body had been desperate to spill inside of her. For him to press as deep as he possibly could until he was spent.

Climbing off of the bed, Cassian disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom. When he returned, he was holding a wet towel.

“A while?” Nesta queried, picking up their conversation, as he began to clean her up.

Cassian cocked an eyebrow, but he didn’t dare meet her eyes lest she read him. His shoulders turned rigid at the thought. “Have you been sneaking people in and out of the bungalow that I’m not aware of?” he asked.

They both knew that Cassian would tear any male she brought back to the bungalow to pieces, but neither of them voiced it.

“You go back to Velaris,” Nesta accused. “You visit the other camps.”

For a moment, Cassian stared at her. Did she believe that he’d been fucking other fae? She had taunted him in Velaris the other day, but Cassian had thought that it was just their extended, agonising tussle of foreplay.

Perhaps you should go in search of some female company tonight.

Cassian managed to huff a breath, but it wasn’t one of amusement. He knew that his expression was steely as he said, “I told you that I don’t sleep with Illyrians. And I haven’t been fucking around in Velaris.”

From the way Nesta’s expression darkened, Cassian wasn't sure she believed him.

She opened her mouth to throw back a retort, but Cassian wanted the discussion to end. If she knew he’d barely touched another female since he’d met her, she’d run the other way. It was too intense a confession for someone who didn’t know what they wanted.

“It was self-inflicted,” Cassian supplied, his tone flinty enough to warn her that he wasn’t willing to discuss the subject any further.

Climbing off of the bed to further his point, Cassian extended a hand towards her. Banished any of the rigidity to his posture. “Come stand in the tub with me.”

There was a sinful promise behind the order. Already Cassian could envisage how he’d press Nesta against the tiles, his lips trailing open mouthed kisses as he kneeled before her—

Nesta must have thought similarly, because the pleasure that sparked in his stomach was not his own. But still she studied him, her head cocked as if she was trying to figure him out. Her hair was a muss of golden brown, her skin glistening with sweat that Cassian wanted to lick off.

Nesta parted her lips, taking stock, but Cassian didn’t allow her to speak. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he vowed. Meant it. Because already he was turning hard again, that desire to have her roaring.

He’d known this would happen. Knew that finally being inside of her wouldn’t sate him but stoke the embers into flames. But Cassian didn’t hide it—utterly unashamed of this need for her. From the way Nesta’s nostrils billowed, he knew she'd marked the change in his scent.

Nesta’s eyes flicked to his cock and the she-devil smirked, her lips curving in a way that had Cassian thinking about how they might wrap around him—how her tongue might feel, how warm she’d be…

In one supple movement, Nesta stood. Took his hand, her slim fingers threading around his large ones. Raised her chin and levelled him with a smoky blue gaze that promised wicked, wonderful things. “Then lead the way, general.”

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @nehemikkele @misswonderflower

#embersandlightfic #duskandstarlightwrites #nessian fic #nessianfanfic #nessian smut #acosf #acosf fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfic #sjmaas #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #morrigan #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #feyre #elain archeron #rhysand

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iwadori · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I really liked that atsumu x reader fic where reader's Kita's sister. Could we get a similar fic but instead it's Kuroo dating kenma's equally as socially awkward sister/team manager?

Dating your Brothers teammate PT 2 (Kuroo)

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word count: 1.8K

Genre: angst, fluff

You were a first year in Nekoma high school

You kept to yourself, since you found it hard to make friends

You spent your time in your classes, the library or joining your old brother’s (kenma) practices, although when you did attend you didn’t socialize with all your brother teammates you either sat with a book on in your hand or (if you were lucky) played on Kenma’s nintendo swtich.

When Kuroo first saw you, he thought you were the prettiest girl that he ever laid his eyes on. He was speechless, to say the least. Kenma introduced him and you first as when you started in your first year, since he knew that you two should at least be acquainted with each other as you were all going to be walking to school together.

You found Kuroo very annoying (and that was an understatement) his debonair smirk, his wild wild bedhead and all of his continuous chemistry puns were things you found attractive annoying about him.

Sometimes when you attend practice, you could tell that Kuroo was trying extra hard in an attempt to ‘show off’ to you, but you took no notice since you knew what type of guy Kuroo was (well you thought). Kuroo was a heavy flirt (well everyone he laid eyes on) he also was a giant dick. To you, he was a your average stereotypical teenage boy.

One day, Kenma fell ill with a cold so it just left you alone to walk to school. However, when you left your house, you see the last person you want to see.

“Kenma’s not coming today” you whisper softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah I know” he smiled

“So then why are you here?” you ask

“Well I’ll have you know Y/N, I’m here to see you.” he said as you start walking

On your route to school, you don’t say much just letting Kuroo talk about things or asking you questions to which you just nodded or shook your head in reply. As much as you’d like too, you didn’t know how to properly talk to someone like Kuroo, knowing the types of conversations he’s used to having with people, especially other girls.

Reaching the gates of Nekoma, before you could step inside Kuroo pulls you to side and puts his hands on your shoulders “Y/N” he says,

“Yes Kuroo?” you look up at him

“I just want to say I like you..” he says waiting for a response from you

“I-I ...umm” You didn’t really know what to say, although you did find him annoying beyond relief there were some redeeming qualities about Kuroo that you could think of. But would two even work properly?

From your lack of response Kuroo continued, “I’m sure you don’t trust me right now, but Y/N don’t worry I’ll make sure I’ll prove to you that I’m a good guy for you.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, since you didn’t really know what to say to that. Just then, the bell rings and you were still frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when you hear Kuroo shout from afar “Don’t worry Y/N im going to do my best to woo you!”

Over the next month, Kuroo is doing his extra best to get you to fall in love with him doing things like: walking you to your lessons, carrying your books for you, bringing you lunch and spending everyday complimenting you to your face and to his friends.

His actions made you swoon, you did feel more comfortable around him, although you haven't confessed your feelings yet, you were planning on to at the date that you reluctantly accepted to go on. You were going to have dinner first at this nice restaurant that you showed interest in ages ago and you were planning to watch a sequel to *insert favourite movie here* since he knew that you really liked the first one.

Before leaving out to the date you looked in the mirror giving yourself a once over. ‘Wow I look hot’ you thought smiling, you were kind of excited to see Kuroo and hear what he had to say about how you looked today. When you were leaving you were startled by Kenma who said

“Where are you going Y/N?” he asked with his eyes focused on his game

“Oh, to the library” you lied your cheeks heating up.

“Sure, you are...” he said

“Bye Kenma” you say putting your hand on the door knob

“Oh Y/N” he calls

“Mhm”

“You look nice today” making you smile wide giving your brother a ‘Thank you’ before finally leaving.

On the way to the restaurant, you had a pep in your step, you felt the happiest you’ve ever been in a while. You stood outside the restaurant and took a few deep breaths to calm the sudden surge of nerves that washed over you. You counted to 10 and walked in the resturaunt freezing at what you saw, there was Kuroo looking as handsome as ever but next to him was a beautiful girl who was tall and had long hair, pretty eyes and a great body who also reminded you of someone you knew (but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.)

She exclaimed “Tetsu!” and pulling into a hug, her boobs pushing against his chest making you cringe. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t compete with this European-looking supermodel, especially she already looks really friendly with ‘Tetsu.’

You storm out the restaurant a bit too aggressively, causing attention to yourself making Kuroo look at over to you, cursing himself for knowing how the situation looks to you. He chases after you, but sadly you were already gone.

When you got home, you rushed upstairs to your room with tears in your eyes. You knew this was stupid in the first place ‘Trusting a guy like Kuroo Testurou, how stupid can you be.’

Kenma came into your room, never asking or caring to know what happened as he knew that once you were ready to tell him you would. You and Kenma have always been close, as you’re both as quiet as each other you never felt the need to be surrounded by a bunch of people since both of you were just what each of you needed.

You managed to forget the awfulness of your ‘date’ getting distracted by trying to win in a game of Murder Mystery on roblox and also having fun trolling 6 year olds with your brother. The night was basically ended and before you dozed off to sleep and Kenma went to his own bedroom he said “At least talk to him Y/N” leaving your room not waiting for a response.

As you slept, you thought about what Kenma said ‘what more is their to say to Kuroo?’ You did think about all the possibilites of what could’ve really happened with Kuroo and that girl. Maybe they’re just friends? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of you being wrong. You were never wrong. So you just slept with the assumption of Kuroo being who you thought he was in the first place. A womanizing dick.

As lonely it was, you didn’t tag along with Kenma to the gym and you made sure to wake up earlier so you didn’t have to walk to school with your brother and your boyfriend his best friend.

Kuroo really wanted to talk to you again but you were heavy on the ignoring him. He even asked Kenma for help, but even though your brother was definitely always going to be on your side no matter what, he didn’t want to be in between his bestfriend and his little sister.

When you were walking home from school one day, you were stopped by the pretty girl that was with Kuroo on your ‘date.’ “Hi, my name is Alisa Haiba” she said smiling

‘Haiba’ you thought ‘Where do I know that surname?’ until you realised, “Oh your L-”

“Lev’s sister, that knucklehead is my brother” she laughed

“So what do you need me for?” you ask

“Me and Kuroo are just friends, I know you probably won’t believe me but me and him are NOT dating or anything romantic, he’s as much as a little brother too me then Lev is” she said

“Oh ok, thanks” you didn’t have any more to say and with this newfound information, you did feel more inclined to give Kuroo a chance, and that is if he even wanted one after all the ignoring and avoiding you’ve been doing. Now you feel stupid.

You thought back to all your times with Kuroo, making you smile. You knew what you had to do, you couldn’t shy away from this anymore, you thought about the scenario of him completely rejecting you and to be honest you were content with that as if ‘you don’t ask you don’t get’ or whatever the saying is. Since it was Friday, you knew that Kuroo would be at Kenmas playing smash bros on their switches (and that’s when you would usually spend extra time at the library to avoid him.)

So, you rushed to your house, dramatically opening the door exasperated. “Kuroo!” you shout, not even looking to see if he was there, to your horror there was the whole team over tonight who were quite humored by your shout.

You went red and then shyly whispered “May I speak to Kuroo please?” looking up at him “that’s if you wanted”

“Umm...sure” he said getting up to follow you into your room.

Kenma gave you a reassuring smile that read ‘Everything's going to be ok.’ You led Kuroo to your bedroom and sat on your bed fidgeting.

“I’m sorry”

You both say at the same time, making each other laugh he waits for you to speak, “Kuroo, I’m sorry for misreading the situation and ignoring you and making you out to be a complete dick, I know I’m probably a bit too late but I’d love to ask you on a proper date... one that I won’t run away on this time”

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m sorry for not actually explaining the situation as I know what it looked like. And yes, I will definitely take you up on that date... that’s if you’ll have a ‘dick’ like me” he jokes

You playfully shove his arm, making you both laugh. You spend the rest of the night with Kuroo in your room catching up on all the things you’ve both missed out on in the time when you were ignoring him.

The date you went on was better than you imagined, Kuroo was definitely a great guy (making you feel even more stupid for assuming differently in the first place.) You developed an amazing relationship with Kuroo, which lead you to eventually become mrs Y/N Kuroo and having Kenma and Kuroo be able to officially call themselves ‘real brothers’

AN: I really actually enjoyed this one, so I hope you do too. <3

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #haikyu headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo scenarios #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #signedwithane😌

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years ago

Note

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

#fic recs #cherik fic recs #cherik #asks #earnestly answers #I'm sure there are waaaay more fics out there #might add more later

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dragongirl642 · 3 years ago

Note

I like your writing a lot! If I may, could I request lady d and Donna reacting to a male werewolf reader? Reader can turn into a huge wolf and they notice reader when they realise the lycans are starting to stay away from their places, and for lady d could you do something about the daughters cuddling reader in wolf form cause he so mf w a r m? Much love! Have a great day :))

Thank you anon (✿◡‿◡)

You mentioned reader turning into a huge wolf, like an actual wolf, so the werewolf rules I'm going for with this are:

You are born with all trademarks off being a normal human until you develop your wolf when you hit puberty.

Your wolf is technically a separate entity, with their own name, thoughts and opinions, and also a part of you.

Shifting during a full moon is involuntary, but you don't go feral/lose all control, shifting at any other time can be done at will.

Since you're on your own you were either kicked out of your pack or they died in war/hunters.

The village is so well hidden, from your enemies, you decide to stay there despite the local dangers.

Powers include:

ability to partially shift between wolf and human form to access specific traits, eye glow.

in wolf form - claws, iron fur/ability to harden fur (useful for tanking blows and cuts), heightened senses / strength / regeneration / speed.

In human form - heightened senses / strength / speed / regeneration, (but not to the full extent as in your wolf form).

It's quite long so the headcanons are under the cut:

Alcina dimitresu

She noticed you around because the maids reported food was going missing from the supplies.

At first she's skeptical of this huge wolf and thinks your one of Mother Miranda's new failed experiments (because you're wounded).

Will ignore you at first and probably try to shoo you out like she would an errant insect.

She complains that you smell completely unappetizing.

When she first met the human you, she had much the same reaction as in this post.

WHAT IS THIS MUTT DOING IN MY HOUSE -> IT'S A DISGUSTING MANTHING, NO!

Definitely tries to kill you, you either fight back or just run away, initiating the longest game of hide-and-seek known to man (or...wolf).

You use your hearing and smell as an early warning system against her.

When her daughters first meet you, they think you're some sort of stray experiment too.

Bela immediately wants you to be their pet, Cassandra thinks they should see what their mother thinks first, and Daniela laments that you smell so bad she can't eat you.

Reveal you're a person and they just freak out, but in a good way.

You know Alcina made sure they had the proper Dimitrescu education, so they're fascinated by your biology and ask a lot of questions about your transformation. Which leads to debate on culture, and why you're alone, and how your senses differ between wolf and human form, etc...

Her daughters love you, but especially your wolf.

Your warm and always available for cuddles.

They will just glomp, face first, into your fur when stressed.

After she stops immediately trying to kill you on sight, Alcina learns to tolerate your presence (she rationales it's only because you make her daughters so happy...like a pet)

Eventually, after a long time she will start to get used to your presence. No longer filled with the urge to kill you for being near her daughters or when she sees you in the kitchen getting a snack.

Has most definitely called you her "pet".

One of her favourite things to do is read a book by the fire, sometimes her daughters will sit and listen sometimes not. But turns out, one of your favourite things to do is to also lie by the fire in your wolf form.

At first she avoids it when you're there, but then she tells herself she won't let any manthing dictate her time.

There have been a few incidents when you've been there and she has found herself absentmindedly running her fingers through your fur. It's just so soft she can't help herself.

Once she realises she will retract her hand immediately. She denies ever doing it.

Donna Beneviento

She doesn't tend to leave her mansion often, except to tend to her plants, and she leaves the grounds of the estate even less so; which means it takes her a long while to notice that the Lycans are staying away/not invading the grounds as often.

At first she is wary of the giant wolf prowling around, who seems to be largely unaffected by the pollen from her plants.

While your wolf may be affected, your human mind isn't and can rationalize/inform your wolf what's real and what's not (and visa versa)

She's scared that she can't get you to leave, (she thinks you're a giant wolf that she can't direct away, do you blame her).

You first shift into your human form to climb in through one of the windows and look for food and medicine.

There's a wary sort of truce between you two to begin with.

You are slightly insulted when she leaves two bowls of water and food outside the door like you're a common hound.

I feel like you would have to be the first one to initiate conversation with Donna. (Not with Angie though, she's been yelling at you from day one).

Warms up to you a lot faster than Alcina.

She finds you overwhelming, brutish, and loud to begin with, but you quickly learn to be gentler/accommodate her personality.

She likes it when you lay in her lap and let her brush your hair, (especially in wolf form).

It takes a bit off convincing for her to let you do the same for her.

All the food you cook is the hearty kind, Donna hasn't eaten so well in years.

Angie has ridden on your back (and fallen off numerous times despite being able to float)...you refuse a saddle.

Donna makes you a little transforming doll of yourself/your wolf, just as she would in this post.

If you shed, she will collect all the fur and weave it together, whether to make a doll or a scarf. You're not entirely sure what you feel about this.

Donna starts coming outside a bit more when you're there.

You both have picnics on the grounds.

If you spend time indoors with Donna for any extended period of time, the Lycans get more bold and come on the grounds more. You quickly chase them out.

If you get injured chasing out the lycans, Donna will gently fuss over your wounds and bandage them up.

🐺🐺🐺

#re8 #re8 headcanons #male werewolf reader #x reader #reader insert #male reader insert #re8 alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 donna beneviento #donna beneviento #lady beneviento #re8 angie #headcanons #lady dimitrescu

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shinaus · 4 years ago

Text

reuniting with a crush

request: ok hear me out ,, hawks, shinsou and tamaki suffering when their old high school crush becomes a pro hero at their agency, and falling in love all over again ,, and being a general mess ,, thank u

pairings: keigo takami, hitoshi shinso & tamaki amajiki x reader

a/n: not the three characters i love making sappy in one request? hope y’all are prepared for some proper puppy love - which could easily be so very ooc but here we are

keigo takami/hawks [quick spoiler kind of: this is written in the context of if he did actually go to high school]:

this man...

his first reaction to seeing you would for sure be before you notice him

you walk into the meeting room on your first proper day at the agency and he practically feels his heart stop

did someone else hire you? how did he not know about this? it was his agency after all

not that he thought you shouldn’t be there by any means

in fact he had spent more nights off than he would admit checking articles on you to see how you were doing

there would be a decent period of time where he just stares at you, suddenly aware once again of what he had felt for you when you were both teenagers

if he were to be honest, you were his first real love

keigo didn’t grow up with a lot of love surrounding him, but that didn’t make him incapable to of giving it

although he didn’t ever end up admitting his feelings out of his fear of rejection, who’s to say he would be now?

once the meeting finishes it’s as if you can sense him, eyes meeting his so suddenly he almost jolts in his seat

but he remains calm, standing up to make his way over to you and reintroduce himself properly

“so, we meet again huh?” he starts confidently, leaning against the chair next to yours and being met with your familiar smile

“that we do” you retort, standing up and brushing off your lap as you come to face him - suddenly very aware of how much taller he’s gotten since you had seen him last “how you holding up, top 10?”

your jest makes him laugh, wings puffing up the slightest bit as you feed his ego “top 5 now if you can believe it, so not too bad” he replies, hearing the click of the door indicating you’re now alone together

“what about you? how’ve you been?” the tone he carries is full of sincerity, as it always was with you

the two of you delve into conversation about the time you had spent apart, the comfortable atmosphere you had both coming to know returning almost immediately

every time you would compliment keigo however, his reaction would differ

he would fidget, there would be slight movements of his wings, even a faint blush forms on his cheeks when you look closely enough

it makes something bloom in his chest when he looks at you, the warmth of it all bringing you back to the old days and wondering how he ever lasted so long without you

before you can even finish what you were saying, you get the feeling of something in your free hand - taking a few short seconds to realise it’s his own

“how about i treat you to dinner later? catch up some more?” is what he asks now, revelling in the way your eyes widen almost in surprise

when you agree, he gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, promising to meet you outside the building once it’s time to clock out

the two of you head to a spot he frequents where you continue to talk well into the night, finding out not long into it about keigo’s small crush

you had admittedly felt the same as he did much to his own lack of awareness, but the way his face blushed beet red was more than worth the wait

so much in fact, that you had left that night with warmth in a new place and a promise to take you out properly, not to mention a new contact in your phone

hitoshi shinso

this is about to get so self indulgent

i will take the hitoshi is actually a softie agenda to the grave

obviously, upon becoming a hero he works with aizawa in the more underground scene

he does still have connections to an agency, mostly to control pr and his appearances

when they say they’re taking on a new hero in their ranks, the last person he would have ever suspected was you

when you went to school together, you were the first person to ever show him genuine kindness

it was something he found himself thinking back on as he got older, how thanks to you he was able to properly open up to others and make genuine connections

because of his harder time in middle school, he found it hard making conversation in fear of someone thinking poorly of him and his quirk

but you never did

in fact, you often told him how admirable you thought it was and how much you were inspired from his own ambition

even if he had never seen you again, it was enough to say you had made quite the impact on his life

and yet here you were, standing proudly next to his mentor who unlike him had the hint of a smirk on his face

god, surely he wouldn’t have known about how shinso had started forming feelings for you

oh but he did, clearly indicated in the fact that he sent you both out on patrol together - alone

hitoshi suddenly does not compute

when you both do head out however, you thankfully do a lot of the talking for him at first

“so how have you been shinso? i’ve seen a lot about you on the news but i know you’ve not been one for interviews or that kind of thing” you explain for him, the sound of your voice doing the same thing to his heart it once did long ago

“i’ve been doing well, i still train a lot and spend a lot of time with aizawa...” he goes on, letting you know a little more about his life as a hero - which he realises he hardly talks much about

what really throws a curveball his way however, is what you say next

“you know, i admired you a whole lot in high school” you start, not being able to help the small laugh that leaves you when his head snaps towards you

but you continue

“actually, i kind of had a bit of a crush on you - i liked how you were so strong and never let anything get in your way, even now i can tell you’re still like that...” your eyes are on the ground, kicking up stones in your way as he tries to fully process what you said

a few short seconds afterwards, does his brain allow him to respond

“you... liked me?” he asks, genuine shock merged into his tone of practical disbelief

you nod without looking at him, his heart stuttering slightly when he notices you fidget to yourself

not wanting you to shut yourself off after your admission, hitoshi only smiles as he looks ahead of him now

“i liked you too” he admits, trying hard not to laugh when you react the same way he did

“it was hard for me not to, you looked out for me more than anyone - and supported me all throughout my time in the hero course” he continues, smile likely matching your own as your shoulders now bump together

there’s silence for a few moments but it’s by no means uncomfortable, rounding the corner to the agency as you walk

that however, is when he stops to face you properly now

“are you seeing anyone?” it’s an innocent enough question, but it seems you’re both brought into your high school shyness by it

when you shake your head, he smiles again

letting his finger reach out, he taps the side of your hand gently before walking again “how about i take you somewhere this weekend?” he asks, hope evident in his words

“like a date?”

“yeah, like a date”

with that you quickly agree, both revelling in the fact you have plans alone together once more

neither of you seem to notice the way aizawa catches your expressions, eyes almost rolling at how he should have seen it coming

tamaki amajiki

oh sweet baby

it’s obvious that upon graduation, he would join fatgum’s agency full time

something he knew well about the hero was that he seen the best in people, always wanting them to see it for themselves

which is how he recruited you

taishiro could see the potential you had in being a great hero, so he brought you in one day to try out the area on patrols since you would come in handy with a lot of crimes it faced

when tamaki was called into fatgums office, he barely made it through the door before he locked eyes with you

as expected, he was flustered beyond words considering he hadn’t known anyone from high school there other than kirishima

he knew of you pretty well, being in the same year and class in your third year

you were also good friends with nejire and mirio, obviously being the two main people in his life

it was hard for him to keep up contact with you, mainly because the mere thought of being alone with you made him nervous

yet here he was, being set a paperwork assignment by his boss to show you the basics of the job

with a nod, he practically runs back to his current makeshift desk while you follow not far behind

tamaki doesn’t know what he wants to do at this point, you were someone he had admired so greatly in high school

so much so he got a y’know... bit of a crush

and now he has to show you, the one he admired for so long, how to do his job? where is he right now

regardless, you’re nothing but sweet to him from the jump

“it’s so good to see you again tama!” you start, settling happily into the chair he had brought over for you as he fumbles through collecting paperwork

“how are things here? do you like working with fatgum?” it’s nothing but sheer curiousity, but tamaki can’t help how much it makes his face flush

after a momentary distraction of finding some papers for you, he gives you a nod

“it’s - really great...” he tells you, as well as the faintest mumble about how he’s happy that you came by too

it only makes your smile widen, both looking away from each other now to copy down some case notes individually

it was nice, tamaki didn’t realise how much he had missed the sound of your voice until you began rambling off what you had been up to since graduation

it was always something you had done which brought him comfort, keeping him grounded even in the most stressful of times

you don’t seem aware of how long you end up talking for however, especially with what you say next

“the agency is thought so highly of, i couldn’t not accept a recruitment! plus, with one of the top heroes that work there being the friend i had a huge crush on in high-” you stop suddenly, practically squealing to yourself in embarrassment as you let your head fall to the desk in your own admittance

tamaki’s head snaps up at it however, eyes boring into you and wipe as saucers

did you just say that? or is his nervous brain making him imagine things now?

“y-you...” he starts, face flushing a bright red when you tilt your head slightly - eyes now meeting his

“yeah, i really just said that out loud” you let out a laugh, once again moving to hide your face in embarrassment

meanwhile, tamaki is still trying to process what just happened - you liked him? you had a crush on him in high school?

before he can dwell on it however, he acts before he can consider it

a hand finds your hair, running gently over the back of your head in a comforting gesture

“it’s okay...” he practically whispers, leaning himself the smallest bit closer as to not draw any unwanted attention

“if it makes you feel any better i uh- i had one on you too...”

now that certainly got your attention

when you shot up to sit properly in your chair, the two of you couldn’t help but laugh at your quick moments

not too long after, the previous atmosphere returned and the two of you somehow made it back to a normal conversation

you had gone home earlier than he had that day, but not without leaving a post it note for him with your number and asking him to let you know when he was free

it was safe to say, tamaki was a flustered mess for the forseeable future

#hawks x reader #keigo takami #takami keigo #keigo takami x reader #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki #bnha #mha

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biisexualemma · 4 years ago

Text

crazy. oscar diaz

word count: 1847

warnings: bit of swearing but mainly angsty/fluff

requested: ‘Hey boo could I ask for an imagine with spooky where him and reader fight like crazy with each other like they're friends but they get on each other's nerves a lot and one/both of them realised they actually like the other? And they confess? Idk yhis is dumb I guess but I like the idea of them annoying each other and arguing like crazy before realising they like each other more than they'd like to admit🥺 thank you so much if you go with this!! 💛💛’

plot: best friends / haters / lovers?

masterlist

"suck my dick!"

"gladly!" he shouted back.

your frown deepened when he said this. you groaned with frustration. he always had better comebacks than you did, it drove you crazy in instances like this (which were pretty frequent).

you turned around to leave before the conversation could escalate any further. "you know, you should really watch your mouth, mami," he shouted before you could get to the door, and you couldn't leave it alone.

spinning around, you marched back over to him with a pointed finger. "don't tell me what to do, papi," you poked at his chest as you mimicked his little nickname.

oscars eyes widened for a split second, before regaining his composure. you faltered for a second, unsure of what had just happened. his nostrils flared a little and he closed his eyes for a second. "you're the most annoying hyna i've ever met."

you paused. "so you think i'm pretty?"

he rolled his eyes. "actually, shut up."

you let out a small smile, still kinda annoyed with him, as he was with you. he shoved you away from him, shaking his head and leaving the room.

"yeah, you go to your room mister," you teased. oscar stopped in his tracks and you knew you'd probably teased him one too many times for today. you cracked a proper smile this time, in fear of what was coming. he turned around and saw your face.

he immediately marched over, grabbing your waist as you squealed. he threw you over his shoulder before tossing you onto the couch. you let out a loud laugh as he did. your teasing worked every time, he was so easy.

"asshole," you breathed in between laughs. oscar picked up a pillow and chucked it at you.

"i can't believe it took me so long to realise how much i hate you," he towered over you, you held your hands up in defence.

"no you don't," you cheesed. oscar stared at you for a moment, you held the smile on your face, before picking up the same pillow and hitting you with it again over the head. "hey!"

"get a room, please," both your heads snapped towards the front door where cesar was now standing. he rolled his eyes, dropping his school bag at the door before quickly making his way to his room. "seriously, gross."

"at least i'm not sucking his face off like you with monse!" you shouted as he slammed his bedroom door behind him. "seriously, give the girl a break!" you heard cesar shout something incoherent back which you giggled at.

oscar watched with a smug expression as you interacted with his brother. you might be the biggest pain in his ass but there was something else there. you were the only person that could get away with speaking to oscar the way you do. he kinda liked it.

you averted your attention back to oscar, who you caught staring for a split second before he could realise what he was doing. you furrowed your brows for a split second. you noticed him do this a few times, more and more often.

"whatcha' staring at papi?" you titled your head, wearing a teasing smirk. you did kind of want an answer though.

he shook his head, a tortured smile on his lips when he did. "don't call me that."

"what? you can get away with calling me mami but i can't call you papi?" you sneered. "is it some kind of obscure double standard?"

he shook his head again, ducking. "call me that one more time and see what happens," he stood towering over you. you looked up at him quizzically. you were dying to know just exactly what he would do if you said it again. and you were exactly the kind of person to find out.

"what? papi?" you quirked an eyebrow. oscar rolled his head back, laughing a little.

"don't say i didn't warn you," your eyes widened and before you could protest, he was on top of you. his hands moved to your sides and he begun relentless tickling the life out of you. you squealed, desperately trying to push his hands away in between laughter.

"ok!" you shouted, pleadingly. "ok, ok, ok!" you kicked your feet, knocking oscar off his balance and causing him to crash on top of you. you groaned, the weight of him crushing you. you let out a strained breath. "jesus christ, what do you eat? you weigh a fucking tonne," you teased. oscar choked out a laugh, pushing himself up and off you with his arms either side of you.

he paused, his face hovering just above yours. the smile slowly slipped from your lips, your eyes darting between his as he stopped to look at you. your cheeks were flushed from all the squirming and laughing, your eyes wide and stunned, and your hair was all over the place, falling over your face. oscar pushed the hair out of your face.

you gulped, before whispering. "what're you looking at—" you choked on your words a little when oscar's lips tilted closer to yours. he took this as his cue and kissed you. your eyebrows raised, letting him kiss you for a moment before you retaliated. your hand roamed to his shirt where you balled your hand into a fist around the fabric and pulled him closer.

quickly after you pulled him closer, you came to your senses and pushed him away. you squirmed underneath him, pushing him off you and standing up. oscar sat quietly, mulling over what he'd just done, he wasn't sure whether that was something he should have acted on.

"what— why'd you just kiss me?" you had your back to him, you touched your lips with your fingers. you were breathing pretty heavily. you weren't sure how you felt about it. it felt good at the time, no doubt, but now you weren't so sure it should have happened. it could potentially mess everything up.

"i—" oscar couldn't form a sentence. you spun around to see he was just as baffled as you were. you chewed your lip, trying to think of what to do or say. "i don't know— you just looked at me and i— don't know."

your heart was beating pretty fast.

"i look at you all the time, oscar," the frown on your face softened. this was oscar, your best friend. of course you knew how attractive he was, and of course you were a little bit in love with him. but you never ever considered doing anything about it because you loved your relationship the way it was, and you would never want to ruin that.

he rolled his eyes when you said this. "why do you always have to say something annoying? you were the one looking at me with your stupid brown eyes, it's not my fault i got lost in them—"

"you got lost in my eyes?" you were gaping at him. you couldn't help but tease him, it was how your relationship worked. "jesus christ oscar. we kissed once and you're talking like a— i don't even know— like a taylor swift song."

"you're so dramatic," he rolled his eyes again, gritting his teeth slightly. he hadn't given this much thought until it happened, it wasn't something he thought about too much. he'd always seen you as a friend, nothing more. he kind of had to shut off the part of his brain that thought you were unbelievably attractive because otherwise he'd be kissing you all the time. and he liked you as his friend, so that wouldn't work out. "it was just a kiss. i'm not proposing."

"damn right you won't be," you huffed, calming down a bit now the shock of it had passed through your system. "i just don't know what this means. we're supposed to be friends."

"i don't know—" oscar huffed. "does it have to mean everything? can't i just kiss you and that's that? do we have to talk about it?"

you rolled your eyes this time. "you want to sit on this and never talk about it again like you do with everything else? like that has worked out so well for you already?"

he groaned. "i take back the kiss. you're so annoying."

you were both kinda quiet for a minute as you thought about it. you didn't know how to not mock him constantly, you'd been doing it for years, you didn't know how else to talk to him.

"do you like me?" you tried to be serious for once in your life.

oscar shrugged. "i don't know— maybe. i haven't thought about it," you nodded, accepting his answer. it was pretty similar to how you were feeling. "do you like me?"

you moved to sit next to him on the couch. "i probably would if you kissed me again," you said honestly. "it was a pretty good kiss.”

oscar tried to conceal his smirk, 'cause he knew you'd make some sort of snappy comment if you saw. he hummed. "yeah it was."

you clenched your jaw, glancing at oscar who was staring at you again. your eyes moved down to his lips and back up again. you leaned closer, inches away from his face, and when he didn't pull back, you leant forward and kissed him again.

oscar kissed back almost straight away, his hands touching your waist and pulling you closer. you deepened the kiss, your hands roaming to the back of his neck so you could get as close as possible. you were practically on top of him before you had to pull away for air.

breathing heavily, you retracted your arms and stared at him kind of hopelessly. "yeah that was definitely worth doing again."

oscar couldn't help but let out a soft smile, which you couldn't help but mimic.

"you're actually really pretty when you're not being a pain in the ass," you scoffed at his comment.

"i'm pretty all the time," you nudged his shoulder, jokingly.

he hummed, shrugging. "maybe a little."

"what does this mean?"

he shrugged for a the millionth time. you wanted to shove him and tell him to use his words but you decided against it. what it meant was that he wanted to kiss you again and again, but he didn't feel confident admitting that yet.

"we'll have to find out."

"could you be more vague—"

"alright. so i like you, you like me, we just keep this up and see where it goes."

you nodded hesitantly. he reached, touching your arm gently. "don't overthink it."

you smiled a little, rolling your eyes. "alright fine."

his hand moved to your ass, pulling you over, mumbling come 'ere. which you did, you rolled over, straddling him where he sat. you sat back, watching him take all of you in. you felt like you could get used to this. it was definitely better than a smack in the face with a pillow.

695 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

The Nice One-Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader

(GIF credit to @avocadosalad2)

Masterlist

Prompt List

Tag List: @obsessedwithrandomthings

Requested by anonymous: 'I have this idea about Fred Weasley falling in love with Harry’s muggle cousin. a dursley. Maybe y/n and Harry were always really close and she obviously knows all about magic. She’s the only person, Harry actually loved and trusted as a child and that didn’t change when he found out he was wizard so there really close, he sees her as a sister. Maybe he wants to introduce her to ginny because Harry wants her approval. And reader ends up liking Fred, and Fred likes her back.'

Characters: Fred Weasley x Muggle!Dursley!Reader, Harry Potter x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (cousin), Weasley Family x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (platonic), Hermione Granger x Muggle!Dursley!Reader (Platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mention of neglect/child abuse, lots of fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sitting back in a plastic chair, I looked out of the huge window of the coffee shop, sighing as I realised it had started to rain. I never minded the rain really, but it had been like this since May, with no sign of a proper English summer in sight. Harry returning to the table with two mugs of tea distracted me, and I smiled as he set them on the table, sitting opposite to me.

“It feels like ages since we did this.” I said, blowing over the top of the tea.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve not called or contacted you in any way recently.” he apologised, casting his eyes down.

“Harry, you don’t have to be sorry for anything.” I reassured him.“You’ve been making your life in...well, your world. We’ve all grown up, had to get used to becoming adults and such. Though it is a shame we haven’t seen each other for over a year.”

“Year and a half actually.”

“I wasn’t surprised when you invited me here though. Of course, this is under better circumstances. I’m not having to drag you out of the house to avoid my parents.”

“No, this is much nicer.” he chuckled.“How are they by the way? I was able to see Dudley last month.”

“They’re fine, same as always. I don’t see them as much as I should, though I do call them often. Sometimes it’s hard you know, especially after all that’s happened in the last few years.” I took a sip of tea, finally able to start drinking it.

Harry seemed hesitant to speak again.“Actually, I was wanting to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember me talking to you about a girl called Ginny?”

“Ooh, has my little cousin fallen in love?” I was teasing until I saw the genuine smile on his face.“Wait, Harry, do you really like this girl?”

“W-well...I h-have for a while, we actually told each other our feelings when, when other things turned serious. And it’s been going good between us, really good, which leads me to my question.”

I was confused as to where this was going, but waited for him to carry on.

“I was wondering if you would come meet her?”

“You want me to meet her?” I excitedly repeated.

“Yeah,” he smiled back,“there’s going to be a birthday party for me at her family home. She’s a Weasley.”

“Wait, isn’t that the last name of your friend Ron?”

“It is.”

“You’re dating your best friend’s sister?”

“I’ve already talked about it with him! Do you remember I stayed with him over that summer, and I wrote to you from there?”

“The Burrow!”

He nodded.“They’re more than happy to have you there.”

“Of course I’ll come Harry! For now, you have to tell me everything about this Ginny girl.”

The party was two weeks away, and I could not contain my excitement as it got closer and closer. Although Harry had told me much about the wizarding world, he was the only wizard I had ever met (unless I counted that giant man that had tracked us down when Harry first found out he possessed magic, though there weren’t any introductions), and I was extremely excited to meet more of them. Would they constantly be using magic? Would they just conjure up food and drink? And would they be comfortable with me there? I knew that Harry wouldn’t leave me alone unless I was one hundred percent comfortable with everyone.

It was surprising that Harry hadn’t become irritated with me on the day of his party. He was coming to pick me up, and I had greeted him with an over excited tone, setting off a party popper which made strings of confetti land on his head. I had never been able to celebrate Harry’s birthdays publicly, always sneaking into his room or under the cupboard to give him a small present and a hug to wish him happy birthday (once I was earning my own pocket money, or sweetly asking dad for a few pounds, I would buy him cupcakes as a birthday cake, stashing away sweets for him after he saw how much we were given). Dragging him into my flat, I demanded he close his eyes, dashing in and out of the kitchen with a stupid grin on my face. Counting down from three, I giggled as Harry opened his eyes, smiling when he saw me holding a cupcake with a candle in my hands.

"You didn't forget."

"Of course I didn't. Is it...is it alright?" I became worried, wondering if I had brought up bad memories.

"No, no, I actually missed this. It was one of the things I looked forward to each year."

He blew out the candle, sighing when I urged him to close his eyes and make a wish. Harry then pushed me to get a move on, his eyes widening when he saw me pick up two presents with wrapping paper, as well as a smaller one on top. I walked past him before he could say anything about them, handing him the keys to lock up.

As we turned up at the infamous Burrow, I couldn't help but stand back in awe. It was like nothing I had ever seen, and although shabby looking, very put together, it had some sort of charm to it, it was so different to other houses. Harry had already taken a few steps forward, stopping when he noticed me not move.

"(Y/N)?"

My eyes snapped back down to him."Oh, sorry."

"It's going to be fine." he said, coming to stand beside me.

I just nodded, walking next to him and standing back when he knocked on the door. A short woman opened it, squealing with excitement when she saw Harry, and as she dragged him in for a hug, she playfully scolded him for knocking, claiming that he could waltz in whenever. Staying outside, I poked my head in, still holding the presents in my arms. I watched as Harry was engulfed in numerous hugs, everyone wishing him happy birthday as well as joking and laughing with him. It shocked me. The only time I saw him this happy was when I was able to cheer him up as kids (and that was extremely hard to do when he lived in the hell hole I called home), but a sudden wave of emotion attacked me, I was so happy to see him being treated right.

"Everyone, this is my cousin, (Y/N)." Harry interrupted my thoughts once again, gesturing for me to step inside.

Sheepishly walking in, I held onto the presents a little tighter, smiling through the awkwardness. There were so many of them standing there.

"Here, let me take those from you love." a man who seemed to be the dad offered, placing the presents on a nearby table. Now I was out in the open.

"So this is the decent one?" one of the younger lads said to break the silence.

"Ronald Weasley, you mind your manners!" the woman scolded him."Don't mind him dear, it's lovely to meet you. Harry has never stopped talking about you."

"He's right though," Harry said,"this is the nice one."

"It's nice to see that Harry stayed in such a lovely place, and with lovely people."

Really (Y/N)? That's the first thing you come out with?

"Oh what a sweetheart." the woman gushed."Believe me, they look like angels, but they don't act like one."

Harry soon broke us into a general conversation, attempting to introduce me to everyone. This family was so different to mine. It felt more loving, as if they didn't hate to be around each other all the time. They included each other in every conversation, they laughed together, joked around with each other. And they also included me.

We were sat around a long table, squeezed amongst one another with food and drink laid out. I had Harry one side of me, and his old friend Hermione on my other. I believed that she and Ron had romantic connections, but I was hoping she would shed some light on Harry's love life, as Ginny was sat beside him.

"They've only recently become public. Everyone knew that they were together, it was bound to happen. But we all acted surprised anyway." Hermione and I giggled, drowned out by the sound of everyone talking.

"Oh bless him, he seemed very happy when he mentioned her. That's why he invited me actually, he was wondering what I would think about her. They don't seem to be able to keep their eyes off each other."

"Someone else seems to have their eyes on someone." she smirked.

I followed her eye line, seeing one of the twins looking in our direction before averting their gaze. I had remembered that they were each wearing the same jumper but with different colours, thankfully making it easier to tell them apart. It had been Fred looking my way, and I hated that I was blushing already; no one had looked at me like that for a long time.

"I'm sure that was nothing." I mumbled.

"If you say so." I heard Ginny say, making me whip my head round to her. She was leaning forward to look at me, and I saw Harry holding back a laugh.

"Come on, I haven't even spoken to him."

"Maybe you should. Perhaps this was meant to happen."

Molly stopped all chatter across the table, standing up to announce that it was present time. Heaps of presents were pushed down to our end of the table, Harry was shocked by how many there were, but stuck right in. After thanking all of the Weasley’s for their sweet presents, especially Ginny. With my presents left, I felt all eyes on me, nervous as to what they would think of my gifts.

One was a collection of books he read when he was younger (until my brother got angry at him and ripped out the pages), the other was two shirts I knew would look nice on him. The last present was a photo book, which I had had personalised; on the front it said ‘Harry’s Memories’, in a beautiful swirling style of writing. The toothy grin on his face fell slightly, and I began to panic again. Everyone waited for him to open the book, a slight tension in the air. Harry slowly opened the book, reading the message I had left for him in his head. It entailed fond memories we had, and how proud I was of him for setting out to school by himself, and how many times he was brave enough to put himself on the line for his friends and family. Turning the next page, a breathless laugh left his lips when he saw the photos I chose. Unfortunately there weren’t many of us together, or of him in general, but I had raided our old cameras back home to find any photos I had taken of him without my parent’s knowledge. After flipping over another page that turned out to be blank, he looked up at me, as did everyone else.

“It’s blank so that you can fill it. I knew you wouldn’t want memories of home, just...just me I suppose. But I’m sure you’ve got better memories to put in there now.” I shyly explained.

“This is amazing, thank you (Y/N).” Harry said, hugging me tightly.

“The pictures aren’t moving?” Ginny questioned.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“Your pictures move?”

Once dinner was done with, along with a round of singing as the birthday cake came out, we all broke off into smaller groups. This would have given me an opportunity to speak to Ginny, I had a strong feeling that she was absolutely perfect for him, they seemed well matched, but I still wanted a chat at least. However, Harry had stolen her away, and it wasn’t the right time to intervene. As I thought about who to talk to, Fred walked up to me, leaning against the kitchen counter top as I was.

“Thought you looked a little lonely over here.” he said, but it wasn’t in a cocky way, he was being genuinely kind.

“Thanks.” I laughed.

He smiled.“I-I didn’t mean it like that.”

I looked up at him.“No I know what you meant. I was actually thanking you.”

“Ah.”

There was a moment of silence as neither of us were sure what to say next. Suddenly, something popped into my mind,“You know, I’ve seen you before.”

“What?”

“When you came to rescue Harry, in your flying car. I was in my room, but my room was next to Harry’s, so I could just about see you and your brothers.”

“That was so many years ago.”

I nodded.“I just remember how shocked I was when I saw the car, but also how relieved I felt when I saw Harry get in there. I was in trouble for not going to my parents straight away though.”

“You don’t sound like a typical Dursley at all.”

“I suppose I’m not. I was never the favourite, for some reason Dudley was. But I was so focused on keeping Harry somewhat happy that it didn’t matter. I just got good results at school, made friends and kept the biggest secret in the world.”

“It is slightly strange having a Muggle about.”

“How do you think I feel? The dishes are doing themselves over there!” I gestured to the sink where there was a floating plate and sponge. He laughed at that."That would be so useful to have at home, especially after a long day."

"So," he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning towards me,"what do you think about our families combining?"

I took a sip of my drink, following his eye line to Harry and Ginny."I can't express how happy I am for him."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And I'm not just saying nice things because Ginny is your sister. Harry had a long talk about what happened in the past, he's mentioned her, well, all of you, a lot. You've all been able to give him much more than I have."

"That's not true. Harry has expressed multiple times how he didn't know what he would have done if you weren't there for him."

"Seems like everything has worked out perfectly in the end. It even feels right me being here."

"I can agree on that."

"Even if I'm a Muggle?"

"Can't say that's the first thing I noticed about you."

My eyes widened slightly, slowly looking down into the content of my cup."Fred, if I didn't know any better, I would say you were flirting with me."

"Thank god you noticed, thought I might have to start using pick up lines."

"You still can if you want to."

"Nah, think I'll save that for a first date."

"If you're asking, then the answer would be a yes."

"Well, glad that's been sorted."

I giggled quietly, trying not to show how much I was enjoying this."Do I get to find out where you're taking me?"

"If I'm honest, I wasn't sure if I would get this far."

We laughed together, catching the attention of his parents who were with Hermione and Ron. We quietened down, finding it hard to hold back on giggling. Before we could even continue speaking, Harry was approaching me, and I knew he wanted to find out what had happened since he left me alone.

"So, uh, what are you two talking about?" Harry failed to play dumb.

I rolled my eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder."OK, whilst you interrogate my date, I'll go talk to your girlfriend. Sound like a deal?"

"D-date?"

"Don't act like you weren't listening. Relax Harry, this is your party after all."

I heard him sigh to Fred as I walked away."You two are going to be trouble, I just know it."

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter one shot #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter

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padsnprongs · 4 years ago

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wolfstar headcanons that ✨just make sense✨

french sirius and welsh remus

they would speak to each other in their different languages all the time, mostly just to mess with each other.

they’d also say really romantic things, but in their different language, so the other wouldn’t know

remus is like insanely tall, but always slouches, whereas sirius is literally a dwarf but stands up really tall (talk about that ✨aristocracy✨ you know)

when remus had his growth spurt in the summer of fifth year, sirius was, understandably, shocked

but also maybe a little annoyed

how was he supposed to kiss him now?

in the end he decided to just grab his tie and pull him down

which remus didn't particularly mind

remus keeps his hair short, because it gets in the way. sirius loves remus' hair, because of how curly it is - remus hates it for the same reason

'I look like an idiot, pads!'

'no, you look cute.'

after sirius started living with the potters', his hair grew long, finally free of the strict rules of grimmauld place

when remus saw his long hair for the first time, on the train platform, he fell in love with him a little more

sirius turns into padfoot on the days surrounding the full moon to comfort remus. he’s literally like a therapy dog at this point.

sirius�� bed hasn’t been slept in since fifth year

cuddles

so many cuddles

lots of pda, much to james’ disgust

‘ugh, you guys, get a room!’

‘prongsie stop being homophobic.’

‘im not- what am i even supposed to say to that??’

‘nothing, that’s the point.’

sirius has a tattoo of the full moon that changes with the moon phases and remus has a tattoo of the canis major constellation - while the rest are just inked on, the sirius star seems to be actually glowing.

remus always seems to lose his jumpers, even though they’re some of his most valued items of clothing. he will eventually find sirius wearing them, but he can’t even be mad because sirius just looks so adorable in them.

remus, in return, will steal sirius’ leather jacket, which sirius doesn’t particularly mind. james, however, gets especially mad whenever this happens

‘well how come he’s allowed to wear it and I’m not? I’m literally your brother!’

sirius rests his head on remus’ lap whilst remus reads to him, and remus will stroke his hand through sirius' hair

remus loves to french plait his hair, and sirius is adamant about leaving the plait in for as long as possible

‘sirius, it’s been three days, you need to wash your hair! I can always re-plait it!’

‘...fine. but only if you promise.’

remus is constantly freezing cold, which shows through the countless jumpers and scarves he will pile on, even in the height of summer

his feet alone are like blocks of ice, which sirius never misses an opportunity to complain about whenever they share a bed

sirius, on the other hand, is a human sauna, and will still be wearing shorts in the middle of winter

when they cuddle, their contrasting levels of body heat cancel each other out perfectly

basically, whenever remus gets too cold, or sirius gets too hot, you’ll undoubtedly find them clinging to each other

sirius always gets really worried after the full moon, and insists on looking after remus - he makes sure he has enough pillows, sneaks him food because the hospital wing food isn’t the nicest, makes him drink water, takes notes for him during the lessons he misses, and just generally stays by his side as long as he can, until madam pomfrey has to kick him out

sirius worries so much during and after the full moon that it often makes remus feel guilty, but he also finds it really sweet that sirius cares so much

he still tries to make sirius see sense and stop him from worrying, because he has really bad self esteem issues after the full moon and doesn’t think he deserves it. whenever he tries to tell sirius this, he says that sirius shouldn’t feel obligated to look after him, because he’s a monster.

every single time, sirius will take his hand, look into his eyes, and tell him firmly, ‘you are not a monster, moony.’

peter will then add that ‘you fold your socks, moony, we’re not exactly scared of you.’

and remus will wonder how he got so lucky as to have such amazing friends

whenever sirius is ill, remus will try his best to return the favour. sirius will insist that he doesn’t get ill, ‘don’t worry, remus, I’m fine’, even though he can barely move

but remus won’t listen, and turns into a proper mother hen, fussing over him and making sure he has everything he need, just trying to repay sirius for all he does during the full moons

illness = constant cuddles

but lbr there are constant cuddles regardless

they got together because they both kept confiding in james and lily about their unrequited feelings and how hopelessly in love they were, and james and lily got sick of it and decided to work together to set them up bc they were both so hopelessly oblivious.

that’s also how lily got to know james better, and see that he wasn’t as arrogant as she thought, and he actually cares deeply about his friends

but these are wolfstar headcanons not jily so moving on

they had a very touchy feely relationship even before they got together. they were always very close, and their bond was different than it was with james and peter

sirius loves to bake, whilst remus loves to cook, but if they try to do it the other way around, bad things happen

they would often sneak into the kitchens late at night and try to make something, fool around, mess up, and end up snogging surrounded by the mess of ingredients

late nights on the astronomy tower!! they did this even before they got together; when either of them couldn’t sleep, they would go up there and just sit together and look at the stars. their first date was a picnic up there, and it became their own special place where they both felt safe

nose kisses!! forehead kisses!! cheek kisses!! adorable

whenever they're messing about they'll almost always end up in each others arms, saying ‘I hate you’ whilst grinning bc they both know that they don’t mean it and it’s actually the exact opposite

when sirius can’t sleep, he’ll watch remus (in like. a non-creepy way) and count his freckles. once remus caught him in the act and thought it was the softest thing he’d ever seen

remus talks in his sleep. sometimes he just mutters random words that don’t make sense, and sometimes he can have full on conversations with sirius.

sirius thinks it’s the funniest thing ever and teases remus mercilessly about it in the mornings, even though remus has no memory of it and denies everything.

when they’re alone in the hospital wing after a full moon, sirius will hold remus’ hand and sing softly to comfort him and help him sleep.

remus absolutely adores sirius' voice, and tries to get him to sing more, and in front of other people, but sirius is adamant that the only reason he sings to remus is because it helps soothe him, and his voice isn’t all that great.

his lack of self confidence about his voice is due to his parents constantly yelling at him to stop singing, because they said it was annoying and he didn’t have a good voice, and he believed them, and still does. It’s one of his biggest insecurities.

the first time they said they loved each other was actually an accident. they had gotten all caught up in planning a prank and sirius smirked and said, ‘aren’t i just the most creative person you’ve ever met?’, with a dramatic flip of his hair

remus just chuckled and replied, ‘that’s why I love you.’

remus didn’t even realise he’d said it out loud until he saw sirius staring at him with a dropped jaw.

then remus panicked, but before he could get up and leave, sirius grinned and said it back.

and then they kissed, obviously

remus may be tough and sarcastic and sirius may be proud and overconfident but they’re both big softies really

remus cheers sirius on at every single quidditch practice, come rain or shine

he says he’s just supporting his boyfriend, but secretly he thinks Sirius looks really good in that quidditch jersey

remus loves it when sirius wears eyeliner. no reason. just looks cool.

literally everyone had a bet on when they would get together. minnie and dumbledore, james and pete, lily and marlene, james and lily, james and dorcas...

james likes betting

there are frequent updates on their relationship in the staff room, because all of the teachers just know they're meant to be

the teachers had a field day when they first got together

madam pomfrey, especially, always sees them together in the hospital wing, and by fourth year, is their no1 shipper

they both get frequent nightmares, and will always comfort each other and cuddle after because they feel safe in each other’s arms.

literally the least toxic relationship ever. they’re both incredibly honest with each other, always talk to each other about how they feel, but also have that perfect balance of banter

if not soulmates, why moon and stars??

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farfromharry · 4 years ago

Text

Never knew the proper story | Prince!Harrison fic

Summary: He thought they had a love like Verona's, too bad he never knew the proper story.

Word count - 21,515

Warnings - language, animal death, arranged marriage, fluff, angst?

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

June 3rd - 10:41am

Thomas was arguably Harrisons only friend in the world. The two had more or less grown up together, side by side, but with very different upbringings. Harrison had been raised as a Prince, of course, royal treatment day in and day out, more stuff than he could ever need. But Tom, Tom was the eldest son of a stable worker. The eldest of four boys to be exact, and the man that took care of the royal family's horses.

He earned a wage enough to feed a family of three, let alone a family of six, something Harrison would be determined to change when he was old enough to do so.

The walk down to the stables was always enjoyable for young Harrison. Excitement would always flood the nine year old’s senses at the thought of being able to see Moonlight, but this time was vastly different.

As he stepped inside the dirty stable there was no usual noise of his giddy horse, or the sound of the few workers chaotically tending to the stallions.

“Mr Holland?” the young boy called. His eyes were roaming the insides of the stable, looking for the main man that cared for the horses. Instead he spotted a boy that wasn’t much smaller and didn’t look any younger than him.

“Hello,” he greeted. “Are you okay?”

Harrison nodded, not quite sure how to approach the boy. The Prince didn’t really know much about children his age, having grown up without any friends that weren’t guards meant to babysit him, so he didn’t have very many social skills in a situation so informal.

“I came to see my horse, Mr Holland told me he wasn’t feeling well.” His voice was quiet to the point where the other boy had to pretty much strain his ears to hear what he said.

“Ah, Prince Harrison,” the man said, placing his hands on his son's shoulders. Tom’s eyes almost bulged out of his head at the realisation that the Prince was standing right in front of him. “I see you’ve met my son, Thomas.”

Tom awkwardly waved, looking between his dad and the visibly uncomfortable boy.

“I-I came to see Moon,” he said, looking at the man with teary, puppy dog eyes. At his young age, Harrison didn’t really understand the concept of his horse being sick, he thought it meant his precious pet was going to die, and he didn’t want that at all, he’d do anything in his power to prevent it from happening.

“Tom here's been taking good care of him today,” he explained, leading the two boys over to the horse. “He’s doing okay, sir.”

Harrison looked up at the older man with hopeful puppy dog eyes, praying that he was telling the truth. He sat on the floor next to the horse, placing a gentle hand on his body to stroke his fur.

Moonlight was a beautiful stallion. Pearly white fur and light coloured mane decorating the large body of the gentle horse. Harrison and even Tom’s father were certain they’d never met a more gentle animal.

The boy he’d learned to be Thomas sat across from him, sitting criss-cross with a tight lipped smile in the lingering awkward silence.

Mr Holland left the two alone when he was sure they’d be able to start their own conversation to keep them amused, sensing Harrison also wanted to spend some time with his horse.

After a while of silence he spoke up, catching Tom’s attention from where he was sitting on the hay.

“We didn’t formally introduce ourselves,” Harrison said. Tom’s eyebrows furrowed, his lack of education meaning that he didn’t actually understand what the Prince had just said to him. He looked at him as though he was speaking another language and Harrison blushed slightly, thinking he’d done something to embarrass himself. He brushed it off though, holding his hand out to the brunette with a comforting smile.

“I’m Harrison.”

With the simple action Tom understood, slipping his hand into the blondes.

“I’m Tom.”

That was over a decade ago now, the two boys now nineteen, and from that day on the two would cause complete havoc anywhere they went. Tom was forever in debt to Harrison’s family, his close friendship with their son being one of the main reasons his family was still alive, even though Harrison would often tell him it was nothing but common decency.

Harrison was currently helping tutor Tom’s youngest brother. In his defense, Tom had tried, but his minor experience in education was simply not enough to assist. Harrison’s high level, expensive, Prince worthy education however, was more than enough to help his brother learn how to read higher level books.

“Can you read that one for m-“ He was interrupted by the sudden movement from Tom, the two males' heads turning in his direction like he’d gone mad.

Tom jumped up from the bed as soon as he saw the Queen entering the room, not wanting to seem disrespectful to the woman who could have him imprisoned or even killed in a heartbeat, even though Harrison would never allow it.

The other male took his time getting to his feet, not seeking the urgency to please his mother as much as his best friend. Tom tried to signal for his brother to show some manners, but Harrison urged him to continue with his reading.

“Your majesty.” Harrison rolled his eyes, slapping Tom’s shoulder as a sign to get up from his bow. He’d assumed the boy had known him long enough to not have to greet his mother with a bow and such a formal greeting every time he saw her.

“Oh, Thomas, Patrick, hello,” she greeted, flashing them a nervous smile. Tom glanced between his best friend and his best friend’s mother, sensing some kind of underlying tension that he definitely didn’t want to watch unfold.

“There’s a uh- a horse I need to attend to, in the stables,” he lied, a painfully fake smile on his face, one that no one was believing. “Yeah, a horse.”

Paddy furrowed his eyebrows, scolding Tom when he practically dragged him out of his seat. “Come on, Paddy.”

The young boy just had enough time to grab his book, waving goodbye to Harrison as he was quickly ushered out of the room.

Tom didn’t even say goodbye before he left, quickly rushing out of the Prince’s chambers to the stables where he’d said he’d be, he could at least keep up with that part of his lie.

Harrison let out a deep sigh, taking a seat on the edge of his four-poster bed ready for whatever painful conversation was about to happen.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a little while as his mother thought about what she was going to tell her son, sending him a pitying glance that turned into a stern look.

“Now I already know that you aren’t going to be happy about this,” she began. Harrison quietly scoffed, busying himself by playing with the cuffs of his shirt. He tuned out the sound of his mother’s voice, something anyone else in the entire Kingdom wouldn’t even dream of doing for the sake of keeping their heads- well that might be slightly dramatic, but Harrison was already pissed off.

There were four words that caught his attention and would’ve knocked him off of his feet if he were standing. “You’re getting married.”

“What?”

»»——⍟——««

Tom didn’t really have anything to do in the stables, and everyone in the Prince’s room had already known that, so he just had to busy himself with anything while Paddy sat down to continue his reading. Tom spent a little bit of time with Harrison’s horse, talking to him about nonsense. He more or less expected to be alone in the stables, other than the ten year old of course, of who wasn’t paying attention, but normally it was just Tom and the horses, sometimes Harrison too.

So he most definitely wasn’t expecting an audience to his conversation with a horse...

He was too caught up to notice the pretty lady standing by the door, quietly giggling at how he probably seemed insane. She chose to speak up eventually though, feeling like she’d already intruded enough.

“Hello?” Tom’s head perked up at the sound of the feminine voice. He stepped out from behind the stallion, noticing a lady that didn’t look like she belonged in a stable at all.

“Can i help you?” he asked kindly, running his hand through the loose curls on his head, brushing them out of his eyes. His eyes roamed her face like he was in some sort of trance, his heart beginning to race.

She flashed him a nervous smile that had butterflies erupting in Tom’s stomach.

“I’m Delilah, I just wanted to come and see the horses, I was informed they’re lovely.”

His eyes widened slightly at the mention of her name, but he nodded in his trance like state, making the lady giggle. He was unable to pinpoint where he’d heard that name before.

“Are you alright?” she asked, snapping Tom out of it. He nodded his head, a pink blush creeping its way onto his cheeks.

“Sorry, I feel like I’ve heard that name somewhere,” he explained, running a hand through his hair once again. She flashed him a grin, one that showed off her pearly whites and convinced Tom he could fall in love right there.

“Well, I suppose I should have greeted myself properly.” She took a deep breath, putting on some kind of façade that she was used to wearing in the company of others, to mask her disappointment.

It hit Tom like a horse and cart, the male having a quick moment of realisation.

“Princess Delilah?” he muttered, staring at her wide eyed. She nodded her head sadly, sending him a tight lipped smile.

“That would be me, yes.” His eyebrows drew together in confusion, the pieces not really adding up. Why would a Princess from another Kingdom come here unannounced?

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?” He tried to sound as kind as possible, the man was genuinely curious. “I-In the kingdom i mean.”

He noticed her face drop slightly, but she quickly covered it up with another one of her bright smiles.

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to discuss that.” Tom respected her words, understanding that she could probably get into trouble if he was to pry it out of her. He would still probably ask Harrison anyway, seeing as that’s most likely what his mother wanted to discuss.

The topic was quickly changed so that the atmosphere wouldn’t be so awkward, the young boy in the corner of the room catching Delilah’s eye, thankfully giving her something else to talk about.

“And who’s this?” she asked politely. Paddy didn’t look up from his book, making Tom silently curse him out in his head.

“This is my brother, Paddy.” At the mention of his name he looked up, sending a confused smile to the two adults. Her eyes caught the cover of the book in his hands, peaking her interest.

“What are you reading?” she asked. Tom’s heart fluttered slightly, making a mental note that the Princess was good with kids. She obviously lived up to the sweetheart title the population of her Kingdom had so kindly graced her with, one that was famous enough that it carried through to other places.

“Romeo and Juliet.”

He could see her face light up with recognition, a sparkle coming to her eye as she looked at the well looked after copy of the book.

“That’s one of my favourites, I like that it’s different.”

Tom felt slightly silly that he didn’t know what they were talking about. He felt as though the ten year old was managing to bond with the Princess better than he was.

He nervously stuttered out. “Why is it different?”

He only felt brainless when they both stared at him. Part of him felt like he was being judged for not understanding the simple things behind the story that he hadn’t- no, couldn’t even read.

“It shows that not all love stories end happily,” Paddy explained, looking up at the wiser woman for confirmation. She giggled quietly, nodding her head at the boy.

Delilah let out a sigh, flashing Tom another smile that could convince him to do just about anything she asked him to.

“I should get going, I have to get ready for later,” she mumbled. “It was nice meeting you Tom.”

Like the kind gentleman he was, he bowed to the Lady, earning a playful eye roll from the Princess.

“The honour was mine,” Tom flirted, sending her a teasing smirk.

Paddy faked a cough, drawing their attention away from each other’s eyes and back to the real world. “It was nice to meet you.”

The Princess shook the child’s hand, nodding her head in agreeance. “Tell me how you like the book once you’re finished.”

Without another word she was gone, her beautiful pale blue dress flowing behind her in the faint summer breeze. Tom watched her go, mesmerized by the simple way she moved.

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” His words broke Tom out of his daze. Paddy may only be young, but he wasn’t silly. He could still clearly see the blush that had been coating Tom’s cheeks while he had spoken with the lovely Princess.

“Even if I was, it doesn’t matter,” he simply stated, not confirming nor denying Paddy’s statement.

“Why not?”

“She’s obviously here for a reason, and I’m not going to be the reason a royal deal is ruined,” he explained simply. “Harrison would kill me.”

Before anymore could be spoken on the matter, Harrison barged through the door with an angry scowl on his face, muttering some nonsense under his breath that either boys were able to decipher.

Tom called Harrison’s name, telling him to calm down and try to stop his racing thoughts before he spoke. He watched his friend take a deep breath, composing himself.

“You will never believe what my mother’s just told me.” Tom hummed for him to continue, telling Paddy to go and sit outside the stable, somewhere he wouldn’t hear their private conversation. The young boy huffed, standing up from the hay. He headed to sit on a patch of dry grass against the stone wall opposite the wooden barn, sending daggers at his oldest brother.

“They want me to marry the Princess of-“ That was all Tom heard. His heart sank into a pit in his stomach, any happy emotions about their earlier interactions were gone. “I can’t believe it.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, trying to act like he didn’t absolutely despise the idea just as much as his best friend did.

“I don’t want to marry some stranger, Tom.” He rolled his eyes at the prince, stroking his hand down the centre of the horses’ nose. Honestly, he did feel bad that his friend didn’t have a say in who he got to marry, but at the end of the day he was still marrying a princess, and that’s more than Tom could ever do, especially Delilah.

“She’s very beautiful,” he said, trying to at the least make things sound better for his friend. Harrison shot him a look of confusion.

“How do you know?” he asked.

Tom let out a sigh. “She came down to the stables just before you got here, said she wanted to look at the horses,” he shrugged. Harrison stared at him like he’d gone insane. “What?”

“You can’t be serious,” he stated, finding it hard to believe that the ‘proper lady’ that had been described to him could ever find herself willingly in a stable. Her mother was adamant she would never step foot in such a place, another thing that made him so hesitant, horses were a big part of his life.

“Why would I lie?” Tom challenged, holding his best friend’s stare. Harrison eventually gave in, letting out a groan as he ran his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time.

“She’s nice, she was good with Paddy, so she’s good with kids,” Tom said. “That’s a good thing.”

His eyes widened, throwing his arms in the air.

“How is that a good thing?” he asked. Tom rolled his eyes, flicking his pointer finger against the back of Harrison’s head, receiving him a glare.

“In a marriage, people normally have children-“

“Fuck,” Harrison cursed. “I didn’t even think of that, do you think they’ll want us to have kids?”

Harrison’s brain felt like it was going to explode, all of this information at once becoming overwhelming for the young man.

“Probably, if you’re going to rule one day they’ll want you to have heirs, Harrison.”

He placed his hand on the blonde's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him while he was clearly in distress.

Tom didn’t know if he’d ever heard his best friend sound so helpless. Normally, he always knew how to approach any situation head on. “What am I going to do?”

»»——⍟——««

June 3rd, 7:00pm

The Prince had been on edge since the conversation with his mother this morning. She’d found him wandering the castle later in the day and informed him of a spontaneous ball they were throwing in honour of their guests, one that she had forgotten to tell him about.

Harrison had rolled his eyes, leaving her without another word to go and find the stable boy so he could guilt trip him into coming with him.

Now a few hours later and here they were, standing above the crowd of the overcrowded ballroom, chatter and music making it hard to think, let alone have a proper conversation.

Tom had had to slow Harrison’s alcohol intake down, the male already having tried to take up to three glasses from passing by servers.

“You need to calm down,” Tom instructed, wanting to keep his friend sober so he didn’t say or do anything he didn’t mean in the moment and embarrass himself

The older male decided on the perfect distraction when he saw his younger brothers approaching.

The ball was open to those of the Kingdom who could afford to dress up, and luckily for Tom, Harrison would provide him with anything he needed if he wanted his family here.

In the end only Harry and Sam had decided to come, but that still meant the lads parents were getting a well deserved break from all their responsibilities, seeing as Paddy was capable of keeping to himself for a few hours.

“Your highness,” Sam teased, over exaggerating a bow to the Prince. He rolled his eyes, lightly swatting the back of the brunette’s head, flashing him an innocent smile.

“What have you been doing?” Tom asked.

“We’ve been trying to find some lovely ladies to dance with,” the younger twin explained.

The Prince rolled his eyes, scanning the dance floor for any potential guests for his friend’s brothers, they were only sixteen, so it was a difficult task when you didn’t have many options.

“Well, take your pick, and I’d even encourage you to go for those two over there.” Of course Harrison was pointing to two of the women his mother had named as other potential brides for him if he ruined the deal with the Princess’ family. He knew if Harry and Sam were to pursue them, his mother would most likely flip, and oh how he enjoyed when that happened.

“Aren’t they-“ Tom began. He cut his friend off with a look, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Let them have their fun Thomas,” he said, a devious smirk plastered on his face. He turned to the twins, noticing how the two were already planning what they would say to the fancy women. “Cause as much inconvenience to my mother as you’d like.”

The pair scattered off into the crowd, Tom not hesitating to hit the Prince’s bicep for encouraging their mischief.

“You’re going to get them in trouble.”

“They’re smart, they’ll be perfectly fine,” he defended.

The two men continued to wait for any sign of the Princess. With most women he could tell, as awful as it sounded, but some didn’t look cut out to be a princess.

That’s why he was certain he’d spotted her when she showed up at the top of the steps. Her hair was shining, loosely flowing down her back as her hazel eyes came in to focus with the flickering candle light of the large room. Her hands carefully dropped the golden fabric of her gown when she’d come to a stand still, allowing Harrison to admire her, completely, from afar. Beauty.

“Is that her?” he asked. Tom wasn’t given the chance to answer before Harrison was jumping in again. “She’s bea-“

“Not here yet,” Tom interrupted, looking at his best friend in confusion. Harrison turned to him with a furrowed brow, cocking his head.

He pointed to the top of the stairs where she was standing nervously, fiddling with the hems of her sleeves while she scanned the sea of smartly dressed individuals below. “Then who is she?”

Tom followed his stare to see her standing there. He was also slightly taken off guard when he saw her face, his jaw going slack. Harrison slapped his arm as a way of warning, silently having claimed the mystery girl as his, already, even if she wasn’t the Princess he was meant to be falling head over heels for.

“Let’s find out,” Tom smirked, starting to swiftly walk towards her. Harrison tried to call him back, cursing under his breath at the confidence his friend held.

“Tom, don’t you dare,” he warned. He simply received a swift middle finger from the male. Harrison let out a snort, covering it up with a cough when some of the guards gave him a stern look. This was surprisingly a common occurrence with the two males when it came to the guards of the castle.

Even growing up around the Prince, Tom wasn’t as polished as Harrison was, and had actually rubbed off on him some. Of course the Queen wasn’t happy about that, scolding her son every time he did something she wouldn’t class as ‘royal behaviour’, whatever that meant. So the authority in the castle often had times over the years where they had to scold the Prince for acting like a commoner, a word Harrison despised for the sake of his best friend.

Although he still had to remember that this was a proper, formal meeting with the royal family of the neighbouring country, so he had to be on his best behaviour. That meant also controlling his manic best friend who was now introducing himself to the beautiful Lady.

“I’m Thomas, but you can call me Tom, darling,” he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of it. She felt her body growing hot, trying to act calm as if this very attractive man wasn’t greeting her out of nowhere. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been given as much male attention, especially not from someone so kind.

“I’m Annette,” she giggled. “But you can call me Annie.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Annie.” He had that silly smile on his face that Harrison recognised every time Tom tried to flirt. He met the two at the top of the stairs, standing beside them awkwardly rocking on his feet.

She turned to look at Harrison and he was almost breathless seeing her up close. Annie felt herself grow nervous at the blank look on his face. If she thought Tom was attractive, she had another thing coming when she saw Harrison. Her heart fluttered when she saw the blonde staring at her.

“I-I’m Harrison,” he stuttered, acting as though he wasn’t blushing profusely like a school boy with a crush. Her eyes stayed locked on his, the corners of her lips twisting up into a soft smile.

“P-Prince Harrison?” she asked, her voice shaky slightly. He nodded, his heart sinking slightly. “It’s very nice to meet you, your highness.”

Tom tried to hold back his laughter as she curtsied for the male, knowing that Harrison hated that kind of treatment from people.

“I’m Annette,” she stated. She almost melted when Harrison took her hand like Tom had. The Prince bowed to kiss her hand, flashing her a smile that made her knees weak.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before,” he said. “I apologise if this is rude but, who exactly are you, love?”

Annie’s heart melted at the sweet nickname falling from his lips, her hands beginning to sweat slightly as she grew more and more nervous at the idea of messing this interaction up. She was convinced she might die if she embarrassed herself right now.

“I’m just a handmaiden to the Princess, nothing of importance,” she explained, a light chuckle following her words. Harrison shrugged, a flirty smile much like Toms decorating his lips. Now Harrison still didn’t have very many informal social skills, but he had turned out to be a natural flirt, even when he didn’t really notice he was doing it.

“I would say that’s an important job, having to get the Princess ready and proper,” he said, turning to the male. “Wouldn’t you Tom?”

He rolled his eyes. “I would, and speaking of, where is the Princess?”

Annie was glad that they’d changed the subject of the conversation so quickly, just so Harrison couldn’t see the silly grin that had blossomed on her face when he complimented her job.

“She’s a little bit nervous, but she should be here by now.” Harrison noted that she was angsty, unable to stand still as she waited to see if the Princess was even going to show.

It was an awkward few minutes of Harrison checking his shiny, golden pocket-watch every few minutes, mentally noting that the Princess was late. While Tom attempted to keep conversation with their new friend.

“Ah, Annie.” The girl turned her head, a thankful smile planting itself on her face. “I’m sorry for keeping you,” she apologised, greeting the other royal with a polite curtsy.

“No worries, Princess.”

She smiled at the group of three, noticing the familiar face along with her best friends, her eyes lingered on the dressed up stable boy for a second. She giggled, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

“From the stable,” she said. Tom nodded, shooting his friend an ‘I told you so’ look. “Nice to see you again.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, punching his friend's shoulder to tell him to shut up.

Upon his first meeting with Delilah, he didn’t feel the connection like he did with Annie, and the Princess was certain she hadn’t felt the connection like she’d felt with Tom. In Fact it seemed like Thomas had more of a connection with Delilah than the blonde did. Harrison was pretty sure he’d managed to screw up this deal before it had even properly begun.

“Shall we?” she asked, nodding in the direction of the ballroom floor, dragging him out of his thoughts before he could get too lost. He sent one last lingering look at Annie, one she returned, before he nodded his head at Delilah.

He took her hand with a forced smile, sending a glance in the direction of Tom and Annie, who had now been left alone, as he descended the steps with the Princess. He noticed how Tom seemed to be making her laugh, jealousy tugging at his heart at how his best friend could easily make her swoon.

But still he noticed the way she beamed at him, her smile causing butterflies in Harrison’s stomach. He watched as Tom politely offered her his hand, and he could almost hear his friend’s voice in his head asking her to dance.

“Harrison,” Delilah hissed, snapping his attention back to the girl on his arm. He hummed, silently asking what was wrong. “Take my waist.”

As he looked around he noticed numerous pairs of eyes on them as they waited for the soon to be engaged couple to begin to dance together. He grew nervous at all the sets of eyes, feeling as though they were silently judging him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. He slipped his hands around her waist, holding her close to him, while hers circled around his neck.

Harrison felt bad that his eyes were practically glued to the way Annie flowed so gracefully across the floor in Tom’s arms, rather than on the girl he should be focusing on.

She raised her hand to his jaw, gently turning his chin so the striking blue of his eyes met hers. He could see the sympathy all over her face.

“I take it you don’t want to marry me?”

He didn’t expect her to bring that up so bluntly.

“I don’t even know, how could I possibly say that? I barely know you.” He didn’t know how she felt, and Harrison wasn’t going to jeopardise everything for the sake of a girl he’d met a few seconds ago, compared to the woman that was going to be his wife.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re practically drooling over Annie.”

He became defensive, shaking his head. “I’m not, really, I was just-“ He tried to come up with a quick lie, swallowing nervously. “I was looking at her dress, i-it’s bright and-“

“I don’t want to marry you either.” He let out a breath of air.

“Oh thank God.” She giggled, the man joining in with a more than relieved chuckle. The two had to reassure each other that they just weren’t ready and it was nothing personal, because truly it wasn’t. It didn’t take a genius to see Delilah had clicked with Tom in the stables and Harrison and Annie had some sort of obvious chemistry when they met on the stairs.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, feeling completely useless, letting out a surprised squeal when the Prince twirled her. Harrison shrugged, trying not to let the stress of the situation show on his face, forcing a smile on his lips instead.

“Well people are watching,” he said. “So for now, we dance.”

She hummed. “Now that, I can do.”

»»——⍟——««

June 12th, 1:26pm

A week or so after the ball, Harrison and Delilah were being pushed into spending time together, in their parent’s words it would be ‘building their love connection.’

The two had simply shared an eye roll and had to agree, pretending as though the idea didn’t sound weird and awful. With a few more painful comments from their mothers about how cute they were going to look together, they were ready to go and ‘bond.’

“Oh and, take Annie with you.” Harrison’s eyes widened, glancing over at the girl who looked just as shocked as the pair of royals. She obediently nodded her head, silently accepting that she’d have to get used to the couple somehow and now would maybe be her chance.

“Well Ladies, after you,” Harrison muttered, motioning for the two women to leave the room first.

The three took a stroll through the gardens of flowers, Delilah and Harrison making polite conversation while Annie hung back. She took the time to admire all the different types of vibrant flowers that looked as though they had been handled with such care.

She thought they were beautiful, and she could only wish the King and Queen would have something like this at their own Palace. As much as she’d begged them, they never gave in. She hadn't noticed that the pair in front had slowed to a stop, partially to give her the chance to catch up so she didn’t get lost in an unknown place.

Harrison’s eyes roamed the side of her face as she admired the rows of beautiful dandelions. He felt heat rising to his cheeks just looking at her, the way the sun beamed down and created something like a halo around her.

“You look at her like she’s the only person in the world, you know.”

He knew she was right. Harrison hated that he couldn’t control his feelings, that he couldn’t feel for Lilah like he did for Annie. There was just something so unexplainable about her, and he wanted to know so much more.

“To me, she is.”

Annie turned her head to look at the pair standing together, the baby curls that were framing her face blowing in the gentle breeze. She looked between the two royals who had obviously been watching her and ducked her head down.

She assumed that they’d been waiting on her and she felt guilt rising in her chest.

“Sorry,” she muttered, picking up her pace again and beginning to walk towards them both. Delilah linked her arm through her best friends, flashing her a bright, loving smile.

“Why are you apologising? We were just talking about how pretty you are.” The words came out of her mouth like it was nothing, yet here Annie was almost choking on her own breath. The Prince thought she was pretty?

She wasn’t given time to dwell on it when Harrison quickly jumped in, trying to save himself any awkward questions.

“Come on, I know somewhere we could go.”

The two women put their trust into Harrison as he led them through a forest type environment. They shared a look of confusion behind the males back, wondering if they dared to speak up.

“You aren’t taking us here to kill us are you?” Annie asked.

Harrison snorted, shaking his head with a rather amused smile planted on his face. “No, I'm not.”

“Then where are we going?”

He grinned, picking up his pace. He didn’t take into account how difficult it may be for them both to walk through all the fallen branches and twigs while in dresses, meaning he arrived at his surprise destination moments before they did.

The forest opened out into a small meadow-like area, housing a gradual grass bank decorated with the most elegant of flowers, that descended into a smooth flowing stream. The sound of the running water hitting various large rocks and the happy, chirping birds were the only thing that filled the rather calming atmosphere.

The stream looked like a place you could swim if you entered from the other side, the water being more deep than shallow. However, the end Harrison had led you to allowed you to comfortably see the bottom through the clear river.

Annie studied the place in awe, feeling an overwhelming calming sensation fill her body just standing there. The Princess was already off to admire the wildlife she’d spotted in the trees, wanting to get a closer look at the loud spoken birds.

For Annie this felt like a whole new experience, they didn’t have places this ethereal back home.

“This place is gorgeous,” she whispered. Harrison took his chance, seeing as this was the first time he was pretty much alone with Annie. She felt his presence behind her as she looked out across the stream.

“How did you find this?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking at one of the stones beside his shoe.

“I found it when I was a kid actually,” he said, smiling at the memory of that day. “I was riding and my horse got startled, ran off and left me in the mud, literally.”

She giggled, the sound like music to the blonde’s ears. Speaking of his ears, they were currently tinting red from the embarrassed blush she’d managed to put on his face.

“I went to go and find him and found him drinking from the stream, must have known it was here.”

Delilah didn’t know what the two were talking about, but she did know that look in Annie’s eyes. The girl was admiring Harrison with soft eyes filled with adoration while he told his story, laughing every time he laughed, smiling when she saw the crinkles next to his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out for the girl. She tilted her head, tentatively locking her fingers with his. He led her down the small hill, closer to the running stream of water.

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders when the two came to a stop, him feeling her body relax under his tender touch.

The water was now only a hand width away, and she had to admit that the view from down here was much more exquisite than the view from above.

She could feel Harrison’s hands trailing down her arms, jumping to her lower back all of a sudden.

“What are you-“

She didn’t even manage to finish her sentence before Harrison was pushing her forward into the water. She gasped, trying to reach for him but to no avail.

He made no attempt to catch her as she fell onto her bum in the water, not deep enough to fully submerge her but deep enough to splash her so her dress was now drenched with pond water.

The Prince was laughing loudly, finding it truly hilarious how she pouted up at him while small water droplets trickled down her face.

“Harrison,” she whined, standing in the dripping dress as he laughed at her. Delilah watched in amusement upon the grass, shaking her head at just how obvious the adorable puppy-love attraction between them was.

He offered out his hand to her, telling her that he’d help her over the small rocks so she didn’t slip and fall. Annie saw that as an opportunity to get her own back, tugging on his hands so he fell in with her this time.

Granted it meant she also fell back into the water, Harrison practically on top of her, but the girl simply couldn’t stop laughing at the shock written all over his face.

“That was so mean,” he groaned. Only at his words did she look up, noticing just how close to her he was. His hands were holding him up so he was hovering above her, and her laughter slowly died down as she noticed how their faces were only a few inches apart.

“You pushed me in first,” she whispered. The two were lost in the other’s eyes. From this close Annie could see every different fleck of blue in his eyes, every tiny freckle on his face and-

“Hey lovebirds, you should really dry off if you want to make it back in time for dinner.”

The pair's cheeks flushed at Delilah’s interruption, remembering that the two weren’t alone at all.

Harrison had to be the first one to get to his feet from his position on top of her, holding out his hand with a pinky promise that neither one would push the other in again.

He helped Annie back to the grass bank, the two deciding that they would need to lay in the sun in order to dry off their clothes.

Harrison had pulled down his suspenders so they were hanging off of his hips, unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt hoping it would dry quicker. He laid down with his back against the grass, letting the sun loom over him.

The girl didn’t take long in joining him, laying beside him quietly. It was peaceful, the two soaking up the sun and the silence together.

Annie grew uncomfortable after a while, feeling her hair dampen the back of her clothes further. She pushed herself up out of her laying position until she was sitting upright, catching Harrison’s attention.

Her hand ran over the messy curls, her bottom lip jutting out adorably.

“My hair’s a mess,” she complained, pulling apart the thin string of ribbon that held it into a loose ponytail, now dripping wet with the water from the stream.

“I could plait it for you if you’d like,” he offered. She looked at him with slight amusement, almost disbelief.

“Really?” He simply nodded, holding his hand out to take the ribbon from her. He let her crawl between his spread legs, sitting with her back towards him so he could reach her wet curls.

He separated the strands as gently as he could, trying not to pull too hard.

“Where did you learn to do hair?” she asked, feeling him start the plait off correctly. Harrison grinned, his skilled hands creating the perfect braid down her back.

“I have a little sister.”

Annie’s eyes widened, looking over her shoulder at the boy in shock. He quietly scolded her for ruining his concentration, making her face back in the direction she was originally.

“Why haven’t I seen her in the castle?”

He chuckled. “You probably have, would’ve thought she was a maid with the dresses she wears.”

He noticed her visibly tense, her demeanor changing quickly.

“What’s wrong with maids?” she asked. His eyes widened, clearing his throat.

“N-Nothing I just-“ He didn’t know how to dig himself out of this hole he’d got himself in. “I just meant she blends in, doesn’t act like a Princess either.”

She nodded. Harrison could tell he’d messed up slightly. He hadn’t meant to offend her in any way and now he felt bad. He carefully tied the ribbon around the end of her hair, sealing off her plait tightly. He let out a sigh, gently moving to put his hands on her arms.

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”

She sent him a smile, shaking her head. “It’s okay.”

Over the course of the next few hours Annie noticed how touchy Harrison had got with her, wanting to, at the minimum, hold her hand. She wasn’t sure if it was his way of making up for what he said, but she wasn’t mad at it.

So, when the three of them headed back to the castle, he was completely reluctant to let go. He ran his thumb over her knuckles one last time before sadly releasing her hand, her positive smile causing him to break out into a smile too.

Harrison and Delilah were bombarded with questions from their mothers as soon as they stepped through the main door of the castle. They were ushered into a gorgeous, grand room where the ladies were sitting having tea.

“You’re back,” Alice announced.

Harrison’s mother tried to invite them all to sit down, instructing some of the maids to pour them some tea. He politely refused, telling the nice women not to bother.

“We’d love to hear all about your day,” she gushed, taking Harrison’s face in her hands with a grin. Lilah let out a quiet laugh, earning a glare from the Prince who was anything but happy.

“Actually, I was just going to introduce Delilah here to my horse,” he explained, quickly creating a lie so he could avoid having any kind of tea with their mothers. More so because he couldn’t really tell them what they’d done with their day, nor did he even want to try.

He noticed her perk up in her stance, probably at the thought of getting to see Tom in the stables.

“Horse?” her mother asked, slight disgust in her tone. He forced a smile, stiffly nodding his head. Delilah sent her mother a stern look. “Right, Annette you’re going with them, yes?”

The girl looked up from her place in the corner. Lilah noticed in the corner of her eye the way Harrison stood straighter when Annie looked in their direction, trying to stifle a giggle at how obvious his crush on her was.

“Yes, I suppose so,” she smiled. Queen Alice nodded, cupping the back of Annie’s head to move her along.

“Dear, do you know your hair is wet?” Her eyes widened slightly, flashing the Queen a nervous smile, but she calmly shrugged it off.

“It must be from my shower this morning,” she explained. Annie was just praying that she didn’t notice the way her hair had gone from being in a ponytail to a slightly messy plait. The long pause of silence made her nervous, the girl flicking her eyes over to the other people in the room.

“Very well, go ahead.”

It was only a short walk down to the stables, but in that time Harrison had managed to lock his fingers with Annie’s again. Neither of them said anything about it, just sporting grins instead, ones that made Lilah roll her eyes.

Upon entering the stables they noticed Tom petting Harrison’s horse, reminding Lilah of the day the two had met where he’d more or less been in the same position as he was in now.

“Oh hello, what are you all doing here?” Annie and Harrison shared a look when they noticed Tom trying to discreetly tidy himself up a little, having been looking a tad bit ragged from working the stables all day.

“We’re escaping our mothers and their tea,” Harrison explained. If Tom was even listening to him he didn’t show it, his eyes fixed right on Lilah’s.

“Would you two be okay if I maybe went with Tom somewhere?” she asked, turning her head over her shoulder to look at the two amused faces behind her. “I could always meet your horse another time.”

Annie grinned up at Harrison, whispering to let them go have fun for a little while, seeing as Delilah had spent the whole day watching her and Harrison have the time of their lives together.

“Go,” he encouraged. Tom sent his friend a grateful look, tugging Delilah away from the pair. They watched as she linked her arm with Tom’s, the stable boy leading her out into the gardens somewhere.

“What’s his name?” Annie asked once the two were out of sight. The Prince smiled, turning his attention back to his horse.

“This is Moonlight,” Harrison said, running his hand over the main of the lovely horse. Annie grinned at the name, prepared to begin her teasing on how it was slightly silly. no

“Moonlight, really?”

He scoffed playfully, sending her a look. “I named him when I was a child.”

The two descended into a comfortable silence, stroking the soft fur of the horse. Annie couldn’t hold back anymore, needing to make some kind of comment about the name once again.

“It’s rather silly though, don’t you think?” Harrison pushed her arm lightly, shaking his head at her teasing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, the girl biting her lip to hide her wide grin as his face rested so close to hers.

“Maybe I think your name’s rather silly.”

She giggled, looking over her shoulder. Harrison’s nose was practically pushing against hers in an eskimo kiss, the two so close that they were surprised their lips weren’t brushing over one anothers.

Annie had to be the one to pull away, knowing she couldn’t steal the woman, who was basically her employer’s soon to be fiancé away.

“We can’t,” she whispered, unwrapping herself from his arms. He frowned, having the knowledge that Tom and Delilah were probably doing the exact same thing with no regard for Harrison, so why couldn’t he kiss the girl he likes?

“Annie,” he said softly.

“So, tell me more about Moonlight.”

»»——⍟——««

June 25th, 11:31am

The longer Harrison and The Princess had to get to know each other, the more time he actually spent with the handmaiden, falling deeper in love by the day. So fast that it scared him.

It was around the three week mark when Tom finally decided he was going to spend the day with the girl he liked alone, leaving Harrison and Annie the opportunity to also spend the day together. The plan was to keep it as secret as possible, mainly because it’d be very frowned upon if his mother found out he didn’t love the girl he was meant to marry. But if either of them got caught they had already made their excuses to explain what was happening; The males were assisting the ladies riding the horses, simple.

Annie was obviously protective of Delilah, she was a Princess she had to be, so she was very uncertain about leaving her alone with Tom, a man they had only met a week or so prior.

“You don’t have to watch them you know,” he whispered, watching the way she raked her eyes over the pair cautiously. She turned to face Harrison with a small smile.

“I just want to make sure he behaves.”

“He will, trust me.” She hesitated before giving in under his soft stare, nodding her head.

She turned her attention to Moonlight, gently stroking the bridge of the stallion's nose. The horse really was beautiful to her, a very light shade of white that reminded her of the prettiest daisies she used to have in her garden growing up and the darkest eyes that still managed to feel comforting. He was arguably one of the cutest horses she’d ever seen, but she wouldn’t be boosting Harrison’s ego with that information.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” he asked, noticing the way her eyes were admiring the creature.

She turned her head to look at him, scanning his pretty face to see if he was being serious. When he didn’t budge she nodded, a grin creeping onto her lips at the idea of being able to ride a horse for the first time in weeks.

“Do you need to change?” He motioned to the puffy dress she was wearing, hinting that it probably wouldn’t work well with two people on a horse, or even herself on a horse. Dresses we’re definitely not made for riding.

“I only have dresses.” There was a slight pout on her lips. She took this to mean she couldn’t go riding with Harrison like she’d wanted, essentially crushing part of her spirit.

Harrison was quiet for a minute, giving Annie a chance to admire his face deep in thought. That was until his eyes lit up with an idea.

“What if you wore some of my clothes?”

She didn’t have time to agree nor protest as Harrison began enthusiastically dragging her to his room, all the way from the gardens. They got some strange looks from some of the guards, the men suspicious as to why he was running around with some girl that definitely wasn’t the Princess he was meant to be getting engaged to.

Obviously people were going to be suspicious when he was taking another woman up to his room.

“Wait here,” he instructed.

This was the first time Annie had been in the Prince’s room during her multiple week stay at the castle, so she took her time to admire the large, surprisingly homey room.

He grabbed some of the smallest clothes of his he could find, probably not that small when you considered Annie wasn’t a 5’10 muscular man like he was.

Harrison watched as her eyes roamed the four walls, a soft, admirable look on her face.

“Here you go,” he said, handing the folded up clothes to her with a smile. He grew nervous when she just stared at him, not quite understanding what else there was to do. She rolled her eyes at his visible obliviousness.

“Turn around,” she demanded, ending her sentence with a quiet giggle. Harrison made a quiet ‘oh’ sound and obeyed, staring blankly at the wall as he listened to the material of her clothing drop to the floor.

He waited patiently as she pulled on the oversized clothes, hearing a few huffs from the girl behind him. They made her sound even cuter than he already thought she was.

“I’m done,” she grumbled. He turned back around, snorting at the way the clothes basically fell off of her body, making her look like a toddler that was trying on their parents' clothing.

“They don’t fit,” she whined, looking at Harrison with an expression that resembled a small child. He had to bite back his laugh. Obviously he was much taller and bigger than Annie, so his clothes practically swallowed the girl up.

“Come here,” he whispered. She followed his instruction eagerly, shuffling over to him so she didn’t trip over the length of the trousers, until she was standing within a hand width away.

He ended up helping her back into her corset, keeping the shirt fitted to her body tightly. The two shared giggles as she attempted to instruct the clueless royal on how to properly fasten a corset, something he’d never had to do before.

She would shiver involuntarily more or less every time his fingertips brushed her back, her gasps not only being due to the added restriction to her breathing, even if that’s what she would claim it was.

“How’s that?” he asked, tying off the strings of the corset in a tight bow. She nodded her head, taking a breath as deep as she could.

“Perfect.” She could feel the heat from his body radiating off of him due to how close he was, her heartbeat speeding up significantly.

His finger teasingly hooked into the waistband of the trousers she’d been holding up, tugging them to emphasise just how loose they were. She let out a giggle, playfully slapping his hands away. Harrison now had to come up with some way to keep the material from constantly falling down her legs.

That’s when his eyes caught sight of the thin piece of red ribbon that was tying her hair together in a simple braid, similar to the one he’d done for her by the stream. She gasped when Harrison pulled it free, pushing it through the loops of his trousers so they were fitted as tightly to her waist as they could be. Annie could feel his breath on the back of her neck at the close proximity of the male, the warmth sending more and more shivers down her spine as time ticked on.

“I’m sorry about your hair,” he said, running his fingers through the mess of the braid until it came fully undone. The curly locks were now falling against the material of the borrowed shirt, covering up small parts of her face that Harrison wished he could see.

She turned around to face him, meeting his eyes almost instantly, seeing as they’d been burning holes into the back of her head.

Harrison’s hand came up to brush her hair out of her face like an instinct, tucking it behind her ears with utmost care and gentle touch, exposing those parts of her face that he wanted to see.

His striking baby blues were completely locked on her soft brown orbs, acting as a way of silent communication for the pair.

Neither of them noticed how they were getting closer, not until one more slight forward movement would cause their lips to brush.

“Better?” he asked, his lips barely even an inch away from hers. She gulped nervously, nodding her head. The clothes may not have fitted like they would if a tailor had made them specifically for her, but Harrison had done a good job of getting them to fit well enough for a ride on his horse.

There was a knock at the door that forced the two away from each other with a startled jump, standing side by side with wide eyes. Thankfully it was only Tom and Delilah, Harrison isn’t sure he’d actually want to find out what would happen if it was someone like his mother.

“What are you wearing?” she asked, her voice laced with utter disgust. Tom let out a snort, shaking his head at just how much she really did sound like a Princess.

“We’re going riding,” Annie explained, in a quiet voice that told Harrison she was embarrassed. He rolled his eyes, pulling her into his side with his arm around her waist. The girl’s eyes widened, looking up at the Prince in shock.

“I think she looks beautiful. Now, if you don’t mind,” he motioned for her to go ahead. “M’Lady.”

Tom and Delilah shared a look, the two thinking the exact same thing, those two had fallen for each other, hard, and there was no way either of them could give that up if it did eventually come down to a wedding.

Harrison led Annie all the way back down the short walk to the stables, the two refusing to unlock their interlaced fingers even in front of the prying eyes of the maids and guards, who of which would be sure to try and tell his mother.

It wasn’t long until the pair were reunited with the horse they’d left only minutes prior, Annie’s hand running over Moonlight’s soft fur.

“Are you ready to go for a ride?”

She nodded happily. Moonlight already had a saddle on his back, Annie assuming one of the stable boy’s had got him ready to go. She watched as Harrison easily hoisted himself up onto the horses back, shifting until he got comfortable on the seat.

“Come on,” he chuckled, generously holding his hand out to help her up. She grinned excitedly, taking his hand and using his assistance to make it onto the horse.

“Now, hold on,” he winked.

She hesitantly wrapped her arms around his torso, her grip only growing tighter when they began to move. It wasn’t that she had never ridden a horse before, she even had her own, but she’d never been the one not in control of said horse. She hadn’t even known Harrison a month, so she didn’t know if she could even trust him as much as she’d like to.

“I’ve got you I promise.”

The two didn’t have a destination, just knowing that they wanted to spend as much time away from the palace as they could. It was quiet, but it was that kind of comfortable silence that’s almost enjoyable.

Harrison had started looking for somewhere they could stop and spend some time, spotting a nice looking area on the hill over by some trees that would look over the entire kingdom.

“Is here okay?” he asked. She nodded her head, mumbling a perfect under her breath as Harrison willed Moonlight to a stop. He helped her down from the horse until her feet were once again firmly planted on land.

“This whole place is breathtaking,” she commented, motioning out to the homes of the kingdom.

Annie had decided to lay down on the soft grass in the line of the sun’s rays. Harrison watched her with a smile as he tied the reigns of his precious animal to a nearby tree so he wouldn’t stray too far.

The Prince was quick to join the lady laying on the ground, a soft smile on his face that he just couldn’t hide. He took a few moments to admire the way the sun was beaming down on her face, her eyes closed to protect those beautiful honey orbs from the harsh light. He thought she looked like an angel, all of her best features accentuated by the soft glow.

He decided that he wanted to get to know her more, casting his eyes nervously up to the sky when he saw her own flicker open.

“So, how did you end up a handmaiden to the Princess?” he asked, curiously. The question was innocent of course, obviously he didn’t know her life story, but it still made her tear up slightly to think about.

Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her, instead looking up at the unusually bright June sky, the sun blinding him to the point he had to block it out with his hand.

“My mother was Delilah’s nanny,” she began, a small smile on her lips as she reminisced. Harrison turned his head watching the way she talked about her family with so much love. “Until she died when she was around 11.”

He frowned, sitting up slightly to rest on his elbow, so he could get a better look at her face, a better read on her emotions.

“Her parents thought the least they could do was give me a job when I could work, after all the loyalty my mother had given them over the years,” she explained. “They thought it wasn’t fair to let us go hungry.”

He listened intently, letting her know that he was hearing her every word. He did feel bad, he felt bad for even asking the question, but he hated that she had to experience those hardships where she didn’t know if her family would be able to eat the next day, when his entire life it was the complete opposite.

“When my father died, that was when they took me in, gave me a room in their home and treated me like a daughter. As long as I kept up my job of course.” There was a faint smile decorating her lips as she stared up at the clouds in the sky, giving Harrison the time to admire her.

She eventually turned her head towards him, a small smile creeping onto her face when she caught sight of him staring.

She didn’t really want to discuss the topic anymore, she’d received enough pity over the course of her life and she definitely wasn’t planning on receiving more from the man she liked.

“How did you meet Tom?”

»»——⍟——««

June 25th, 4:28pm

The two agreed on a slow walk back, Harrison holding the reins of his horse while Annie walked beside him. Conversation flowed easily, sweet stories of memories from their past being uttered in the quiet atmosphere of the vacant field.

“I don’t even want to go back,” she mumbled, sending Harrison a sad glance.

“Why not?”

“Today was just so perfect, and I don’t want to go back to engagement party preparations.” He understood completely, his mother had been getting way too out of hand with planning his wedding to Delilah, of which he still wasn’t happy about, when he hadn’t even proposed properly yet. He didn’t know when he was meant to propose but he hoped it was far enough away that he could try to convince his mother otherwise.

He’d tried to push all the thoughts about the engagement to the back of his mind all day but her words just brought them all back, forcing a frown onto his face as he watched her face as she walked.

“Annie, I-” He turned to face her, taking one of her hands into his free one, his other still holding onto the reins. She was scared to look up at him, wondering if she just managed to spoil everything that had happened the whole day. “Please look at me,” he mumbled.

Her eyes flickered up to look at his baby blues, her heart soaring due to the look of love in his soft orbs. He had a small smile on his face, their close proximity letting him gently rub their noses together.

She knew he wouldn’t try to kiss her without her permission, noticing him open his mouth to ask exactly for that. She giggled quietly, letting her hands slide up to rest against his chest.

“Annie-“

“Just kiss me,” she whispered. He nodded his head, leaning down until their lips brushed past each other so lightly it almost didn’t happen. She took charge, leaning on her tiptoes to take control of the kiss. She pressed her lips on his, tilting her head to properly slot them together. Annie’s stomach was in a jumble of knots as Harrison’s hand travelled from her cheek down to the side of her neck, his thumb applying the slightest pressure on her throat that took her breath away for numerous reasons.

She could feel the cool metal of his family crest engraved ring pressing against her flushed skin, making her heart race in her ribcage.

He broke away from her lips primarily to take a second to catch his breath, but he also wanted to give some love to her neck. She was panting heavily as his lips followed an invisible trail from the corner of her mouth, down to her jaw, down her neck- oh down her neck. He heard the breathy moan she let slip loud and clear. The sound hitting his ears perfectly. It made his knees weak knowing he had the most perfect girl he’d ever seen falling apart for him purely from something as simple as a few kisses.

She gently guided his lips back to hers when she felt like she’d die if she didn’t kiss him again soon. This kiss was slower than the first, the two really taking their time to memorise everything about the others lips.

He got lost in her, finally letting go of the reins to thread his hand in her curls, pulling her impossibly deeper into the kiss. This was arguably the best kiss either of them had ever experienced, sparks flying with each desperate clash of their lips.

Neither of them were expecting the spontaneous heavy rainfall, a gasp coming from Annie as she was suddenly drenched in the rainwater. She’d pulled away from Harrison, looking up at him with a contagious giggle. He leaned back in with a smile, planting one more kiss on her soft lips. “Your lips taste amazing,” he whispered, drawing a blush to her cheeks.

He removed his hand from her hair slowly, deciding that they couldn’t stay in the rain for much longer, especially when they weren’t moving.

They picked up their walking pace, heading straight for the stables where, like this, they would have to spend the night.

With the speed they were practically jogging at, they arrived in no time, the pair running into the dry warmth of the stable with loud bubbling laughter.

Luckily, thanks to his jacket, the shirt she was wearing of Harrison’s hadn’t gotten too wet, meaning she could still wear it. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case for the Prince, after giving his jacket to the girl like the gentleman he was, he was now soaking wet with rainwater.

“If you don’t want to freeze, i’d suggest you take off your top.” Harrison’s eyes widened slightly at her almost demand, not knowing where the surge of confidence to say something that could’ve been perceived so differently had come from.

By the time he had snapped out of his daze Annie was already unlacing her corset, he didn’t know if she was just loosening it or if she was actually taking off the whole thing but Harrison looked away, trying to give her the privacy she deserved, trying also to busy himself with his horse.

“Harrison,” she mumbled. He hummed, not wanting to risk turning around. “I was serious about you freezing.”

Harrison stubbornly unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing, folding it over one of the shelves to try and give it time to dry before the morning. If Harrison had to walk back to the castle shirtless, it probably wouldn’t be a good look.

Harrison headed for the blankets next, the ones he usually kept in here from when he was a boy and refused to part with his horse for the night. He walked back to Annie with a small smile on his lips.

He wrapped the warm material around her shivering frame, noticing she’d also taken off the corset and the wet trousers, both of which were now left to dry off to the side.

“Thank you,” she muttered, teeth chattering due to the cold. Harrison nodded his head, moving to make sure Moonlight was okay before he himself could settle down.

It didn’t take long for the male to realise he only had the one blanket, conveniently the one that was wrapped around Annie’s shoulders currently. He cursed under his breath, trying not to visibly shiver at the gust of cold air that blew throughout the stable. He didn’t know Annie had been watching him the whole time he was thinking about his crisis, noticing how he was shaking from the lack of heat in his body.

She stood up from her spot on some hay, heading over to him with the intent of not taking no for an answer.

Her arms wrapped around his torso from behind, the blanket starting to cover some of his body. Even the little bit of fabric helped to warm him up ever so slightly.

His back was cold to the touch, the kind of cold where your body felt numb. Annie took his hand, leading him over to the hay she had been sitting on. It took awhile for the two to find a comfortable enough position to lay in.

The blanket only ended up being big enough to cover them both if they laid with their chest’s touching. Annie’s head was comfortably resting on Harrison’s chest, her arms wrapped around his torso. While one of his hands was running through her hair, stroking his hand over her head, the other wrapping around her body to keep her warmth as close to him as possible.

His hand stroked up and down her back for a little while, soothing her to sleep with the calming sound of the rain that continued to pour outside.

“Goodnight Harrison,” she whispered. He smiled, running his fingers through her damp hair. He placed a sweet kiss to the top of her head, squeezing her impossibly closer to him.

“Goodnight, darling.”

Harrison hadn’t been able to get to sleep that night. At first he assumed it was from the uncomfortable feeling of the hay bails on his bare back, but when he saw how sound on Annie was, he knew it couldn’t be that.

No, he was scared to death of being caught by someone, with her, like this. Obviously he knew how it would be perceived at first glance, especially without any knowledge of what had happened prior, and he couldn’t risk that.

He knew that if anyone were to come in early in the morning it’d most likely be Tom or his father, and if so he could easily persuade them to keep quiet.

The next morning Annie was woken up early by the loud chirping of the birds in the nearby trees, the sun barely rising in the sky. She was alone now, the blanket wrapped solely around her body tightly and no longer around Harrisons.

She stretched her arms above her head, letting out a small sigh at the feeling of her muscles relaxing. She spotted Harrison leaning against the door of the stable, still shirtless, just watching the light drizzle of rain and the sun beginning to rise over the castle.

She kept the blanket around her shoulders, moving over to where the man she adored stood, looking like one of those Greek God’s she’d read about in one of Delilah’s fancy books.

“Good morning,” she whispered. He turned his head to see her standing there, her hair messier than it’d been last night, he thought it made her look even more gorgeous though.

“Hi. Come here,” he cooed, holding out his hand for her to take. Annie’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, taking his hand anyway. He pointed to the sunrise just beyond the castle, watching as her face twisted into one of awe.

He coaxed her body back into his chest, wrapping his arms around her protectively. He rested his chin on the top of her head, exhaling slowly. This was the kind of love he wanted, the kind that was just so easy and natural. Annie could give him that, not Delilah.

He hated the fact that he couldn’t marry the girl he was falling so hopelessly in love with, how was he meant to give all this up?

»»——⍟——««

July 2nd, 9:03am

In retrospect after being in the Osterfield’s kingdom for almost a month the ladies probably should’ve visited their village earlier. Except for the most part they’d been locked up in the castle being wooed by two angel-like boys.

“This place is so lovely,” she whispered, looking around at all the different people communicating outside of the different stalls set up along the street. People sold a variety of things here, bright bouquets of flowers that added that pop of colour to the grey town walls and jewellery that would glint in the sun, they had it all and it was beautiful.

Delilah didn’t see it that way, as much as the Princess would say she wasn’t, she was spoiled and anything to do with ‘commoners’ usually didn’t interest her. Unless their name was Tom and he had curly, brown hair.

“Why are we here again?” she asked, linking her arm with Annie’s so she didn’t get lost in the crowd. The latter sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Because, it’s Harrison’s birthday soon and I wanted to get him a gift.” Delilah nodded, looking around the busy streets of the large kingdom.

“You should too, you know,” she said. The Princess looked back at her in confusion, furrowing her brow. “Get him a gift, he is going to be your husband.”

She could sense some hostility in those final words, her face dropping slightly. She knew Annie was falling for Harrison, but Annie knew that Delilah didn’t love him, and the poor girl didn’t understand why she was taking out her emotions on her.

“I suppose so.” She hadn’t even remembered when Harrison had mentioned it was his birthday, but she guessed it was the least she could do.

The pair walked down the streets just admiring the decorations that were already being strung up in honour of his birthday, the whole town celebrating the young Prince no longer being a teen.

“Delilah? Annie?” Their heads turned at the sound of the familiar voice. They found the curly haired brunette standing there with a confused look on his face, one of his hands on the shoulder of a much smaller boy that Annie had never seen before, while two older looking boys stood beside him.

“Tom.” She saw the Princesses face light up when she saw the man she’d fallen for, her heart aching at the way she treated her when she obviously didn’t love Harrison.

“What are you both doing here?” he asked. Lilah’s eyes fell from Toms to Paddys, her eyes lighting up when she realised she had something for him.

“This is for you.” She’d reached into her bag and pulled out a book, one that looked very familiar to the young boy. “The one you had looked like it was falling apart, so this is a new copy.”

His eyes widened, heart racing as he hesitated to take it from her, not sure if he should or not. His eyes flickered from the Princesses warm ones to Tom’s confused ones.

“Lilah, you don’t have to.” She shook her head, insisting that Paddy take it. The boy thanked her profusely, showing the book to the twins like it was some prize he’d won. She had a warm smile on her face as she watched him gush over it.

“Thank you,” Tom said, drawing her attention back to him. She simply nodded, holding that same look in her eye that Annie got when it came to Harrison.

“What are you both actually doing here?”

The handmaiden smiled, a blush creeping up onto her cheeks as she thought about what now seemed like a rather silly idea. “I-I wanted to get Harrison a birthday present.”

He smiled, thinking it was rather cute. He whispered something to his brothers, watching closely as they scattered away before turning back to the two girls.

“Well, I’m here to offer my services to help you look.”

Lilah was over the moon that he was coming with, happily lacing her fingers with his, forgetting about the surrounding public.

“What about a ring?” Annie asked, looking at the cart that had a fair amount displayed. She checked with Tom, not wanting to make the wrong decision here.

He gave her a nod, too wrapped up in the way Delilah was trying to kiss him to give her a full response. She rolled her eyes, sending a warm smile to the man who was selling them.

It didn’t take her long for her eyes to land on one that she deemed perfect, imagining the way Harrison would wear it.

“That one, please,” she mumbled, looking directly at a beautiful gold pinky ring with a black gem in the middle. She handed over the necessary amount of money- well Lilah’s money, cause hey that was one of the perks of being best friends with a Princess.

“Thank you.”

The three continued their walk down the long avenue. Annie twirled the ring in her fingers, panicking slightly as she thought about all the different reactions Harrison could give her. He could either absolutely love it and fall even more helplessly in love, or he could hate it and could- Tom had noticed the internal battle going on, taking his attention away from his love to gently squeeze Annie’s arm. “He’ll love it, trust me.”

She knew it wasn’t enough to get him to call off the deal with Queen Alice and his mother, but she at least hoped it could prove her love for him.

“I hope so.”

Tom was leading them somewhere completely unknown to both of them, well the whole place was unknown to both of them, but still.

“Where are we going?”

He flashed the girl who wasn’t clinging to him a smile, bringing them all to a standstill in front of a rather cute, dainty house, one that reminded Annie much of her own home growing up.

“Home.”

She was the only one to notice the reluctance in Lilah’s eyes as Tom led her through the door of his family home. She tried to silently reassure her, squeezing her arm with a comforting smile.

The two didn’t have much longer to think about anything, being swarmed by Thomas’ younger brothers that they’d seen earlier.

Paddy instantly rushed over to Delilah, wanting to discuss the next part of Romeo and Juliet he’d managed to read, while the twins headed straight for Annie.

“We didn’t formally meet earlier, I’m Harry.” The curly haired boy leaned down and placed a kiss on the handmaidens knuckles, a giggle escaping her at how cute he was.

“And I’m Sam, his twin, the older one.” He too placed a kiss on her hand, both teens clearly getting the idea that she was free for the taking. Tom let out a sigh, flicking the both of the boy’s heads.

“The Prince will have your heads,” he muttered. The twins murmured and left the pretty girl to her own devices, hearing her laughing quietly at the brotherly behaviour. Her attention was drawn to Paddy, the quiet brother who was just simply staring at her and waiting for his turn.

When he noticed her looking back, he jumped up with a smile. “Hi, I’m Paddy.”

He shook her hand politely, flashing her a toothy grin.

“Well hello Paddy, I’m Annie.”

She was amazed at how intelligent the ten year old was, using some words that she didn’t think even she knew the meaning of, but nonetheless she still enjoyed the conversation.

However, how would it be a conversation with a Holland boy if one of the brothers didn’t interrupt.

“Harrison better watch out, I think Paddy’s stolen his girl.”

»»——⍟——««

July 4th, 5:54am

Harrison didn’t expect to hear a knock at his bedroom door in the middle of the night, nor did he particularly want to answer it. It had woken him up and he wasn’t all too happy about it. The Prince rose from his comfortable, plush bed with a groan.

He didn’t bother to throw on a shirt or any clothing on his top half, considering he thought it would only be one of the guards, heading towards the door with heavy, tired eyes.

“Hello?” He pulled it open to find Annie standing there with a large smile, the girl pushing her way into the room without so much as a hello. He furrowed his eyebrows, checking for any guards that may have seen her, thankfully there were none, before closing the door carefully and quietly, cautious to not make too much noise.

He startled when she cupped his cheeks in her cold hands as soon as he turned around, her wide grin making him break out into a smile himself.

“Your hands are-“

She cut him off without a care, shaking her head. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, slotting her much softer lips on his chapped ones. The kiss was slow and passionate, every ounce of love they had for each other poured into the simple act of intimacy.

“Thank you, love.”

Harrison laced their fingers together and led her to the spot where he’d been sleeping, laying back against the headboard with his arms out. She happily crawled into his embrace, resting her head on his bare chest with a content sigh.

It was comfortably silent between the two for a few minutes, her fingertip lightly tracing circles on his stomach, while he mirrored the patterns she was making on the nape of her neck, a light breath of air coming out of her nose every time he managed to tickle her.

Annie eventually cleared her throat, drawing his eyes back over to her face where they’d just momentarily left.

“I got you something.” She pulled the small wrapped box from behind her back, letting it sit in the palm of her hand, Harrison noticing the ribbon matching the one that he always saw tied in her hair.

“You didn’t have to.”

She placed her hand on his cheek gently, pecking his lips for a short second. “I wanted to.”

In the past week they’d grown impossibly closer, sharing and sneaking kisses when they could, going on horse rides back to the meadow where he’d pushed her in the stream, it was lovely.

“Open it,” she said, pushing it into his hands.

He had a small grin on his face as he pulled the smaller string on the bow, watching it fall undone in his lap while Annie stared at him with childlike excitement. He carefully lifted the lid off of the box, his eyes widening at the sight of the beautiful ring laying inside, glinting in the light shining in from the window.

“Annie,” he whispered, slightly awestruck, his eyes flickering up to hers. Even knowing each other for such a short time was enough that she knew him perfectly. She took that as a sign that he wasn’t impressed, making her even more nervous than she already was.

“D-Do you like it?” He could sense the nerves in her voice, rapidly nodding his head. He took it from the box, sliding it on to his finger to show her with a boyish smile.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, bringing his thumb of the opposite hand up to stroke over her bottom lip. Their faces were so close that any slight movement would mean their lips were touching again, but the pair rather enjoyed that.

“I love it, thank you.”

Every word he spoke, he spoke with enough emotion that she would know he was being honest. He didn’t want her to doubt herself for even a second.

Harrison suddenly got an idea, telling her to hang on one second while he climbed off of the bed. Annie was left to watch him roam around, her eyes tracing the dips and muscles of his muscular back, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought about how he truly was beautiful.

The man grabbed something from his dresser, hiding it in his palm as he walked back over to the bed. He crawled in beside her, back in his previous position.

“While I have this one,” he started, taking her left hand in his grasp. He placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, raising it up to his mouth. “I want you to keep this one safe for me.”

He held up the item he’d just collected, showing the family encrusted ring that normally decorated his pinky finger.

“Harrison, I can’t.” He shook his head, not allowing her to make any sort of excuse.

“I trust you.” He held her hand tightly, sliding the ring onto her ring finger as though it was their wedding day. She could only imagine how much she’d like that to be a wedding band that was currently decorating her skin.

She tried to hide the faint blush coming through on her cheeks but Harrison was quick to notice it, a small smirk on his face as he watched her get all flustered at his gesture.

“A-Are you sure, what if I lose it?” she asked, thinking of all the possible outcomes where in her mind they ended with Harrison getting mad at her.

“Annie I-“ he hesitated, sending her a nervous glance. “I know this is soon but, I think I’m falling in love with you and I-“

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Their smiles were contagious, the two finding it hard to share a kiss when they were unable to wipe the grins from their faces.

“Spend the day with me,” he all but demanded. Annie didn’t need any convincing, nodding her head rapidly.

“I’d love to.”

Due to it barely being 6am, the two decided on taking a quick nap together, after Harrison locked the door to his room so no unwanted visitors would show. He held her tightly in his arms, watching the sun peak out in the sky as her breathing grew steadier.

He struggled to fall asleep at first, admiring the beautiful girl laying on his chest. His thumb rubbed over her cheekbone as gently as he could so he wouldn’t wake her, his lips lightly grazing her forehead.

It seemed as though the universe wasn’t on their side that day. As soon as they tried to do anything there was some kind of interruption. Less than an hour into their nap, after Harrison had finally managed to drift off, there was a heavy knock on the Prince’s door, startling them both from their sleep.

The two had planned to go on a walk through the gardens and have a picnic around lunchtime, only to find that it was raining as they began to prepare to do so.

Then the Queen called her son away on royal duties when they decided that they would just sit in the greenhouse which held the glass roof, watching the rain together seeing as there wasn’t much else they could do.

“I am so sorry,” he apologised, finding the girl still sitting watching the rain pour. She looked over her shoulder at him with a smile, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure the birthday boy is very popular.” He chuckled, kneeling down beside her to press a kiss to her temple.

“What can I do to make this up to you?” he asked, stroking his hand over her soft curls.

“Just sit with me.” And that he did, perching himself in the chair next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders so she could cuddle into his side.

The evening rolled around all too fast and she unfortunately had to part with Harrison for some kind of birthday celebration they were having. He had tried to get her invited but he’d told her that he was unsuccessful. He left her with one last kiss on her forehead, heading to his room while Annie headed to Delilah’s to help her get ready.

“I can see you swoon every time you see him,” she teased. Annie warningly pulled the Princesses corset a little bit too tight, making her gasp in shock and playfully slap her hands away.

“I don’t swoon,” she defended, her voice quiet. Lilah let out a giggle, rolling her eyes at her friend. The two didn’t really converse that much as Annie finished helping her get ready, making sure she was up to that Princess standard that she always was.

“I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” she promised, squeezing her hands reassuringly. The handmaiden was trying to shoo her friend, telling her that she’d be late if she didn’t hurry up.

“Go,” she encouraged, basically pushing her out of the door with a giggle, closing it behind her so Lilah couldn’t doubt herself.

She was gone for hours, a very boring, long amount of hours, so she decided to amuse herself.

Annie had been wandering the castle for a little while now, finding it far too boring to stay perched in Delilah’s room the entire evening. She just so happened to walk past the door to the dining room at the wrong time, catching Harrison’s words.

“Delilah, w-will you marry me?” He didn’t want to do this, God how he wished she would say no. He saw the tears building up in her eyes, but when she looked at him they weren’t ones of joy. She didn’t want this either.

Annie felt her heart shatter at the words, a quiet, spontaneous sob managing to escape her lips before she could stop it.

Harrison heard the noise, looking through the small gap in the door and seeing her standing there. He almost broke there and then, forgetting about the whole thing to run and comfort the girl he was definitely in love with, but he couldn’t.

“Yes,” she whispered. He slipped the ring onto her finger with a completely fake smile, hearing the claps from their family members around the table.

The girl didn’t know if she’d ever felt so betrayed. He’d lied to her, he told her this was a family thing for his birthday, now he was engaged to her best friend.

When he glanced back at the door a few minutes later, Annie was gone and he was sure his heart stopped beating for a second. Lilah noticed how pale he’d gone, looking almost like a ghost in her eyes. She could do nothing but squeeze his hand a little bit tighter, knowing if she did anymore than smile then the tears would fall.

Meanwhile, Annie was trying to remember the route they’d taken a few days prior to Tom’s home. She knew he wouldn’t be at the stables this late and so she assumed he’d have gone home to his family.

It was just her luck today that it was still raining, it had been since the early afternoon when it ruined her and Harrison’s picnic, probably trying to forebode to her the events that were going to take place tonight. If only she’d have listened.

Her feet carried her there, digging into the squelching mud uncomfortably, the rain belting down against her already soaked and shivering body. Sobs were falling from her lips without a filter, the noise filling the painful silence of the night.

She didn’t remember getting into the village, or leaving the gates of the palace, or even leaving the palace itself, but now here she was walking down the streets of the eerily quiet town.

Her eyes roamed the different street names, looking for the one she remembered Tom leading them down.

“Fuck,” she cursed, furiously wiping at the tears in her blurry eyes, assuming that she was lost in the middle of a village that was almost completely unknown to her.

Her shoes on the cobblestone echoed around the vacant street, her heart racing as she had to guess which one was her friend’s home. She knocked on the door that looked the most familiar to her.

She didn’t expect to have actually gotten the right one, but she was greeted with that familiar brunette with his warm smile. His face softened slightly when he saw the state of the girl standing outside his front door.

“Annie, god.” He hadn’t expected to see her showing up at his family home of all places. He didn’t even know how she’d remembered.

“Thomas, who’s at the door?” He watched as she stood so vulnerable in front of him, clearing sobbing with tears that were impossible to disguise as the rain.

“Just a friend, mother,” he called back. “I think she might need to stay for tonight.”

She was so grateful to hear him say those words, because there was no doubt that Harrison would be waiting for her back at the palace to try and give her an apology, and she didn’t know if she could face him or Delilah tonight.

And to be fair to Annie, Harrison was waiting. He was waiting nervously in the rain on the palace steps. At first he was hoping to just clear his head, trying to process the fact that he was now engaged to a woman he most definitely didn’t love. But then he remembered the heartbreak written all over Annie’s face when she watched him utter those simple words, and he began to anticipate her arrival back at the palace.

Tom invited her inside with a sense or urgency, wanting to get her out of the rain. He rushed to grab her a towel or anything to keep her shivering form warm.

“Here we go.” He wrapped the fluffy material around her shoulders, gently rubbing her shoulders. He didn’t know if he did it for comfort or if he was just trying to help her dry out quicker, but neither looked as though they were working.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She sniffled sadly, her eyes flickering up to Tom’s soft brown ones.

“H-He proposed,” she cried, standing in front of the stable boy like a complete mess. Neither of them needed any names to know what she was talking about. Tom visibly deflated, his heart sinking into a pit in his stomach. Even if the both of them knew this moment had to come, neither were prepared for the emotions it would dig up.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Both of them were hurt, broken, felt cheated in all honesty. But they knew what the other was going through, and it was probably easier that they had another person to share that with.

Tom opened his arms for the handmaiden, making sure his hold was tight when she stumbled into his chest. He rubbed her back comfortingly, trying to hide his own tears that were racing down his face.

He rested his chin on top of her head, sniffling quietly while she sobbed into the material of his button up.

“We lost them.”

The two didn’t talk much, Tom leading her to his small room with an even smaller twin bed against the wall.

“I can go share with one of my brothers if you-“

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself nervously.

“I really don’t want to be alone right now,” she whispered, sniffling quietly. She was quick to jump back in when she realised how demanding she sounded. “I-If it’s okay that is.”

He smiled, climbing into his bed and welcoming her into his arms. It wasn’t intimate in any way, the two just needed all the comfort they could get at the moment and thankfully they could find that in each other.

“Goodnight Tom.” He pressed a friendly kiss to the top of her head, gently rubbing his hand up and down her back. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over the edge of his eyes. He wanted to keep it together at least until she fell asleep.

“Goodnight Annie.”

»»——⍟——««

July 11th, 6:07pm

“Are you ready?” He didn’t answer, biting at the skin on his lip nervously, almost making it bleed. How could he ever be ready to see his pet die? Moonlight had been seriously ill for a few days now and Tom’s father had told him it didn’t look like the stallion was getting any better. Much to his heartache the man didn’t know if the horse would be able to carry on for much longer, and it hurt him so much.

He hadn’t spoken to anyone about how it made him feel, he probably should have and Tom had encouraged him too but the young Prince was certain he could keep it all bottled up.

Harrison shut his eyes tightly, breathing deeply as he felt the knot forming in the back of his throat. He could feel how tense Tom was beside him, hating this just as much as he did, it was never pleasant to see a horse die, they weren’t ones to die peacefully.

He felt a soft hand holding his, his eyes opening just long enough to glance to his side and see Annie.

He didn’t know why but even that simple gesture from her had managed to calm his racing heart and mind just that little bit, and that was all he needed.

It was risky for him to be this close to the handmaiden in public, but Delilah hadn’t come with and he’d needed any form of comfort he could get. Plus, Annie and Delilah were vastly different and unfortunately the girl he shouldn’t love was the one that was able to calm his heart.

She saw the way he winced when the shot was taken, his face turning in her direction so he didn’t have to watch.

Her hand carefully guided his head to rest in the crook of her neck, rubbing up and down his back with the utmost care. Neither of them said anything, other than the quiet shushed from her as she tried to soothe him.

It felt strange that he hadn’t heard her voice in so long.

In almost the week since she’d watched Harrison propose, she hadn’t spoken a word to him, and for that matter neither had Tom. He wasn’t even sure they’d be here today, and now that they were he still wasn’t sure they were going to speak. Delilah had already tried speaking to Tom already and it hadn’t gone very well for her.

He didn’t even look at her as she entered the stable, fiddling with her fingers nervously, arguably the most nervous she’s ever felt around Tom.

“Hi, can we talk?” She assumed he’d already heard about the engagement, whether it was from his best friend or her own, or if it was just because it was currently the buzz of the town. The male did nothing but shoot her a glare, turning his full attention back to the horse that he was trying to wash.

“I deserved that, but look I-“ She furrowed her eyebrows when he’d started to walk away from her, picking up his stuff to go around the other side of the horse.

She followed him of course, standing right in the spot where he wanted to set his water bucket down, so he did anyway.

Tom made no effort to stop the bucket of dirty water from splashing on Lilah’s dress, and deep down he did feel guilty, but not nearly as much guilt as pain.

“Tommy, please.” When he looked into her eyes she could see the clear amount of pain that he was feeling, and she felt awful knowing she’d caused it all. The ring shining on her finger didn’t help him either.

“I think you should go, your fiancé’s probably waiting.”

After that disaster of an interaction, Delilah had tried two more times to apologise to the stable boy, but not once did he give her the time of day. Tom was suffering in silence. He’d been there to comfort Annie everytime she showed up to his family home with tear stained cheeks, her heart aching at seeing the couple waltz around the castle without a care. But not once did he say how he felt.

He missed his best friend, and he missed being able to freely give his heart to the Princess, but he was struggling to let go of the heartache they’d caused him.

He wanted nothing more than to scream from the hills that he was in love with Delilah, but fate wasn’t on his side on this one.

Harrison on the other hand, he was hopeless without his true love by his side, faking smiles all around as he paraded Delilah on his arm like some kind of trophy he’d won. He hated it and so did she, and he hated the look in her eyes that told him she didn’t want to do any of it.

His goal today was at least to try and get her to talk to him, if anything just one word was all he was asking. So when the opportunity presented itself for him to have a moment alone with Annie, he took it.

“Can I please talk to you?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers nervously. She pursed her lips, glancing between Tom and the blonde. She eventually nodded her head, letting him intertwine their fingers together so he could lead her to his room. Tom said his goodbyes to her, shooting Harrison no more than a look.

It was silent as the two entered the castle, the male leading her to his room where they were certain they could be alone.

He took his time closing the door behind him, trying to prepare all the words he wanted to say in his head.

“I want to explain, at least my side of the story.”

His eyes were begging with her, pleading for her to just listen and that was all. The least she could do was hear him out, right?

Annie quietly took a seat on his bed, keeping her distance between the boy, watching him with sad eyes. The second he spoke he was instantly sputtering out apology after apology to her.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t-“ He could barely speak without getting choked up. The blonde was trying his best to swallow the lump in his throat so he could voice what he needed to say, but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

“I didn’t know it was a proposal at first.”

She didn’t open her mouth, letting him continue on without interruption. He explained how the dinner had started off as he expected, drinks and small talk between the families, a few birthday wishes and jokes here and there.

It’d all changed when Lilah’s dad had slipped a ring box into his hand, telling him that now was the perfect time. He had no say in it, unable to protest the family's wishes.

He told her how that was when he reluctantly stood up from his seat, gathering everyone’s attention and sending Delilah a wide eyed look of warning.

After a short speech about ‘how he loved the Princess,’ which was actually truthfully about Annie, he had asked her to marry him; Right at the moment his love had chosen to walk past the dining room.

“Is that really what happened?” she asked, gracing him with the sound of her angelic voice for the first time in days.

“It is.” He looked almost guilty as he watched her get lost too deeply in her own thoughts. “I’m really sorry, I don’t want to marry her,” he promised. Annie looked up, locking eyes with him from where he stood before her. She scanned his baby blues, trying her best to decipher if he was being honest or not, of which she thought he was.

“I have been trying day after day to stop it, and Lilah doesn’t want it either.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke. “Lilah?”

He realised that he’d never before called her that out loud, not even when they were no more than friends.

“S-She asked me to, said her full name sounded too formal.”

She noticed the tears that were building up in his eyes now, how could someone not when they were so clear to see. Annie’s walls were breaking down, she sympathised with him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and just hold him forever, tell him everything was okay.

“Everything was so incredible, and- and now,” he muttered, his voice shaking with the pent up sadness he’d refused to let go of for so many weeks. “My horse is dead, I’m engaged to a woman I don’t love, my best friend hates me and you, you must hate me too.” The list could go on for him. This past month really hadn’t been what he’d been expecting for himself. Her heart shattered for him.

He finally let the tears fall, his knees giving in and buckling underneath him. As quick as he was on the floor of his chambers, Annie was right beside him, pulling him into her chest.

She tried to stop the tears, whispering comforting words into his ear, but it was like he couldn’t hear her, nothing was registering in his head.

His hands furiously tugged at strands of his hair, running back and forth over his head out of pure frustration and anger.

He didn’t calm for a while, too worked up for too long over this for it to be over so quickly. All the emotions he’d been hiding and holding back were finally making themselves known.

Annie never left him or loosened her hold on him, not even for a second. She was still whispering things that she hoped would make him feel even the tiniest bit better, and it wasn’t until she said one specific thing that he finally heard her.

“I know it hurts, I know it all hurts,” she whispered, gently stroking the messy locks of hair, messy from how many times he’d tugged at it in the past few hours. “I promise, I’ve got you.”

Those were the exact words he’d told her the first time they rode Moonlight together. Harrison stared up at her as the tears slowed their stream down his face. Her heart was aching as she watched him break before her.

“Come on.” She helped him off the floor, her arms circling his body so she could guide him to his bed, a much comfier place than the floor in her personal opinion.

“Get some rest, you look exhausted.”

He didn’t fight it one bit. He curled into her body, letting her protectively wrap her arm around him to reassure him that nothing could hurt him while he slept. It was silly really, and he knew that, but he thought with her around he was completely untouchable by anything bad, she was his safety net.

When Delilah decided to go to bed for the night, if that’s what you wanted to call it, she didn’t expect to find two figures already in there. She squinted her eyes to try and make out who it was from the door, but there was no one else that it could’ve been.

“Annie, what are you doing here?” She forced a smile at Delilah, waving her over to Harrison’s bed. The two hadn’t at all been as close as they had once been due to the whole engagement situation, and it was breaking them both. She still obviously had to do her job dressing her, but it was now very rare that there would even be conversation there.

“You shouldn’t be here A, not in his bed,” she said. She felt a flash of rage fill her at her words, wanting to scream at the girl and ask her why she deserved it anymore than her, but she may have been jumping to conclusions too quickly. “Anyone could walk in and see.”

The words weren’t said with any kind of venom in her tone, simply just trying to look out for the girl who’d be the one getting into trouble. Annie nodded, willing away the tears that were forming in her waterline.

“He’s hurting Li, I-I was just taking care of him.” The Princess could see her friend getting worked up, gently coaxing her off of the Prince’s bed and into her arms.

Annie took a deep breath, falling into the embrace of her best friend, letting her head rest against her chest. She felt a wave of emotions overtake her, all that effort she’d taken to stop them no longer working.

She decided being honest would be the best way.

“I love him, I’m so sorry,” she cried, apologising profusely. She shushed her sweetly, running her hands over the back of her hair.

“I know, It’s okay.”

Delilah reassured her over and over that she wasn’t mad, she just wanted her friend back. She also confessed to being completely in love with Tom, telling the girl how much she was struggling with dealing with marrying the Prince.

“We’re trying Annie, I promise.” She nodded her head, wiping her wet cheeks with a smile. With one last look at the sleeping Prince she decided it was time for her to go back to her own room and get some sleep, she had to be up early tomorrow anyway to get Lilah dressed for her big day.

The walk back was agony, knowing Delilah was in Harrison’s room, the two being made to share by their mothers because that’s what couples do.

She got a few strange looks from some of the guards, but most of them pretended not to notice the emotional handmaiden strolling down the empty halls.

Once she was finally back inside her room she collapsed onto the bed, letting all of the emotions out, including the ones she’d hidden from Delilah, despite her crying.

Her head was buried in her pillow as she sobbed, clinging to it tightly as she felt like her lungs were closing up.

Her eyes trailed down to the ring that was still tightly sitting on her finger, tugging at her heart strings painfully as she recalled the happy moment when he first gave it to her.

Annie didn’t remember falling asleep that night, probably drifting off from the exhaustion that came along with so many pained tears. The next thing she recalls being the moment she felt Harrison’s warm arms circle around her body, pulling her into his chest.

A soft kiss was placed onto her head. Words of affection whispered in her ear.

“You’re the one for me, no matter what.”

»»——⍟——««

July 17th, 1:07am

Harrison had visited Annie in her room just like the day of his birthday. Waking her in the middle of the night. She had considerably forgiven him after their conversation over a week ago, that bond they had starting to rekindle nicely. It wasn’t uncommon to find Harrison sneaking into her room anymore, but it was uncommon to see him this level of nervous.

“Come in.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, stepping out of the way of the door so he was able to creep past her.

“How are you?” he asked, flashing her a nervous smile. She rolled her eyes at how he was clearly beating around the bush.

“Why are you here?” He pursed his lips, nodding his head when he didn’t get an answer to his question. He looked up at the girl that was standing in front of him, taking her hands into his larger ones.

“I wanted to spend this time with you,” he said. He was getting choked up already. He leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against hers, giving them a chance to admire each other so close up.

She bit her lip nervously, trying to wish away the tears that were threatening to fall. It didn’t work though, Harrison watching as a few stray tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You’re getting married in the morning, H,” she cried, trying to resist him wrapping her arms around her. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined not to let a single tear fall at this moment.

“I’m going to figure this out, I’m doing everything I can.”

She shook her head against his chest, letting out a heart wrenching sob that made him feel even more guilt than he’d ever felt. He held her impossibly tighter, placing his lips against the top of her head as a single tear ran down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

They didn’t know how long they were standing there in each other’s embrace, hearts aching and a lot of shared tears.

A sniffle from Harrison brought her attention back to the moment, her arms squeezing his body before pulling back slightly to look at him. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, simply looking at each other and just understanding the pain the other was feeling.

“I tried Annie, I really did and I-“ She shook her head, placing a soft kiss on his lips. Her hand was resting against his cheek, her lips twitching into a small smile that she was trying to use to reassure him. He could feel his ring pressing against his skin, turning his head to press a kiss to her palm.

She took a deep breath, wiping away the rest of her tears. “I know, and I’m grateful for the time I had with you.”

His eyebrows furrowed, noticing how her eyes had moved from his face almost like she couldn’t stand to look at him.

“Why are you acting like-“

“I think you should go.” It of course broke her heart to say this. She wanted to be selfish, she wanted to run away with him so he didn’t have to get married to someone else, but who was she to do that.

He tried to change her mind, prepared to get on his knees and beg her if he had to. “Please, Annie.” She kissed him one more time, blinking away the tears on her water line.

“Goodbye H.”

He didn’t move for a few seconds, hoping she would be quick to change her mind so his heart could stay intact. There was no sign that she was going back on her words, but he didn’t know just how much it was taking for her to hold it back.

He eventually nodded, assuming he had no choice but to respect her decision. “Okay, goodbye Annette.”

It hurt her to not hear the nickname she’d grown so fond of hearing out of his mouth. It felt almost as if he said her name with so much venom.

She watched helplessly as he walked out of her room, and possibly back to the one he was sharing with Delilah.

“Fuck,” she cursed. She buried her head in her hands, slowly sinking to her knees on the floor as she let out a heartbreaking sob. She finally let it all out when she couldn’t see him anymore, assuming he hadn’t cared enough to stick around outside her door too long. That’s where she was wrong though.

Harrison was standing just on the other side of the door, his head rested against the wood listening to her cry. He wanted to go back inside and comfort her just like she had the night Moonlight had been killed, but he didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. He took a deep, shaky inhale, finally building up the courage to walk away.

She barely got an ounce of sleep that night, tossing and turning with all the possibilities of what could or is going to happen tomorrow. Sometimes having an overactive mind was a gift but right now she would do anything to just make it go away. She was exhausted when she finally gave up trying to fall asleep and got out of bed instead, deciding that she could be productive instead.

You could clearly see the bags underneath her eyes from just how tired she was, but that would all be covered with wedding makeup anyway.

Maybe if she had taken up Harrison’s offer of letting him sleep in her room tonight, the final night they could be together, she’d be feeling much more energized.

An early morning walk was what the handmaiden expected would be the only thing to help to clear her head. And by early morning, she meant around six am. She expected there to be only the guards doing their morning shifts, however she was proved wrong when she saw all the people setting up the wedding in the grand hall. She felt herself getting choked up, this looked exactly like the wedding her and Delilah had planned together when they were no older than twelve. The only choice in her mind right now was to distance herself from the preparations as much as she could, and that meant heading outside the palace walls into the beautiful gardens.

It was quiet out there, the only sounds filling her ears being the chirping of enthusiastic birds in the air. She pulled her wrap tighter around her body, trying to keep herself warm in the slight chilly breeze caused by the wind.

The last thing she expected to find there was a small girl crying, her eyebrows furrowing in concern for the stranger. She approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her at all.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met.” She bent down to the small girl’s height, holding out her hand to introduce herself. “I’m Annette.”

She looked up with a sniffle and tear stained cheeks. Her eyebrows drew together, staring at the girl as if she was trying to place her.

“You’re the pretty girl that my brother’s in love with.”

Annie wasn’t sure she’d heard her right, laughing nervously as the girls tears came to a spontaneous halt.

“What’s your name?”

“Charlotte.” Annie briefly remembered Harrison mentioning the name of his little sister, that being Charlotte, so if she had to take a guess after what she just heard she could very confidently say this was Harrison’s sister. She brushed it off though more concerned with finding out what was bothering the child.

“And what’s wrong, angel?”

Charlotte explained to the woman how she’d managed to lose one of her dolls and the gardens were now one of the only places she had left to search, and upon quick glance it wasn’t there. Annie reassured her that they would find it together, offering her hand as they began to look around through the rows of flowers.

The Prince did not expect to see the lovely handmaiden holding his sister's hand when he was told the Princess was running around somewhere outside.

Harrison didn’t need this today, seeing Annie be so good with his little sister was just forcing him deeper in love with her. It hurt worse than anything he could’ve imagined.

He cleared his throat when he was close enough that he was sure they’d hear him. Their heads whipped around, Annie’s smile slowly dissolving from her lips. Charlotte was the opposite, grinning wider with her gappy smile as she ran towards her big brother.

“Hi, precious.” Nothing needed to be said. There was a lot of pain in this one area and even Charlotte was sensing it, the poor eleven year old confused as to what was happening. “Can you head inside for me, go find mum?” She nodded her head, waving goodbye to the woman she’d just met. The pair watched her scatter off before succumbing to the all too unfamiliar awkward silence that engulfed them.

Harrison opened his mouth to speak, to tell her what? He didn’t know. Maybe he’d apologise for not fighting harder for this wedding to not go ahead, or for not fighting hard enough in the early hours of this morning, but it didn’t matter anyway, because in a matter of seconds Annie’s lips were on his and that was all he needed.

So many unsaid words were forgotten as soon as her soft lips met his slightly chapped ones, but she didn’t care about that, it was like a wake up call.

That would be for sure the last kiss they got to share, filled with so much passion and love that it was a shame that it was ruined by their salty tears streaming down from their closed eyes.

“I have to go get ready,” she whispered, pulling away and letting her eyes flutter open. Harrison was thinking, and she could tell, taking that time to admire his face. It was something she’d begun to do out of instinct whenever she was this close to him. He sighed, his breath fanning her face. She watched as he opened his eyes, meeting hers instantly. He nodded, sniffling before turning his head and kissing her palm like he’d done just a few hours before, with the softest puppy eyes looking in her direction.

He cleared his throat, deciding to put his heart on the line, knowing she wouldn't let him fall.

“I love you Annie, with my entire heart.” The corner of her lips twitched, a gentle, barely there smile teasing him. That was the first proper time he’d said those words to her, catching the air from his lungs. For a few seconds he was terrified she wouldn’t say it back, breathing heavily through his nose as his eyes nervously flickered over every one of her features.

“I love you too.”

The ceremony came around quicker than anyone wanted. The morning rushed by in a flash or nerves and helpless tears from both females getting ready. The girls had a chance to reconcile properly, telling each other this was no one’s fault but the much higher royals. With a lot of breathing and makeup retouches and they were ready to go, flowers in hand and hearts in pieces.

The doors opened and the classic music began to play, Harrison focusing his eyes on the large archway. Everything became a blur of white noise when his eyes focused on her, the beige coloured dress trailing along the floor, her beauty completely mind numbing, ruined by the water welling up in her gorgeous eyes.

Annie's teary eyes mirrored Harrison’s as she walked down the never ending pathway that was the aisle. He sent her a warm smile, the glimmer of adoration he always got when he saw her ever so present. He thought she looked beautiful, she was taking his breath away even though she did that on a normal basis. He could only imagine this is what it’d be like waiting for her at the end of the aisle. His eyes drifted to Tom’s, the man who was the one leading her down the aisle, their arms locked while she carried a bouquet of pretty roses.

He looked very formal in the suit he’d been given to wear. Harrison was insistent that whether they were on talking terms or not, his best friend was going to be a part of his wedding. This was possibly the first emotion besides anger and disappointment that Tom had shown him all week. His eyes were mirroring Harrison’s, a sense of lingering sadness behind them.

Not too much longer and Harrison was taking a deep breath as the priest before them began to speak, reciting the same things Harrison had heard at every wedding he’d ever been to.

He glanced out at the people watching for a moment, seeing all the mixed expressions and emotions in the crowd. He gave a small, discreet wave when he noticed that the entire Holland family had gone, Paddy sitting there with a rather evident frown on his face, even at ten years old he knew this wasn’t how this was meant to go.

“Prince Harrison, do you take her royal highness Princess Delilah-“ Annie bit her lip nervously, so hard she was almost drawing blood. It felt like the worst kind of torture, seeing your best friend marry the man you’re in love with. As it happens, Harrison’s plan didn’t work, just like he had expected it wouldn’t even if it was worth a try. He thought if he was honest with his mother and more or less begged her not to make him go through with this, that there’d be a slight chance of sympathy from her, but oh how wrong he was.

“Mother please, I need to talk to you.” She sighed, stopping in her step and also tugging Charlotte to a halt to face her son. She had a rather annoyed look on her face, but at the end of the day Harrison was her child, so seeing him look so hopeless and torn up destroyed her inside.

“Please don’t make me do this, I don’t love her I-”

“There is nothing we can do, we need this unity Harrison.” He huffed, running his hands through his hair with a dry laugh. “I’m sorry, honestly I am, I see the way you look at Annette.”

Harrison sniffled, trying to push away the tears from the stress of the moment. Charlotte hated to see her brother this way, wishing she could do anything to make sure he got his fairy-tale ending with the girl he loved.

“If you truly were sorry, you wouldn’t do this.”

And with that he walked away, losing his hold on the last bit of faith he had for him and Annie to ever be together.

The wedding was beautiful, and no one could deny that. Delilah had been perfecting it since she was a child, but it was all unfortunately overshadowed by how much they didn’t want it, any of it. The pair at the altar had no idea how they were meant to keep up a loveless marriage for the rest of their lives, especially if they were expected to have children. While she was overthinking the night before, Annie realised she’d have to go back to her job as normal eventually, but Lilah would be Harrison’s wife, and everyday she would be helping her get ready in their room, for them to complete royal business together.

It was getting hard for her to hold back her tears now. The girl wiped them away as quickly as they fell so no one would see. But someone did, and that person just had to be Queen Alice.

“Oh, it’s lovely isn’t it?” She’d clearly taken these for happy tears, the woman taking the younger ones hand in hers to hold tightly as she watched her daughter get married. Annie’s eyes drifted to the Queen, but seeing as she didn’t trust her voice at the moment she just simply nodded her head.

When she looked back her eyes locked with Harrison’s ocean ones. Except now it looked like an ocean in a storm, grey, dark and cloudy. She had to force herself to look away, sniffling quietly.

Then it came time for the vows, the vows that Harrison wrote with Annie in mind, only she didn’t know that much. Hearing the words spilling out of his mouth, about his eternal love, about the times they’d spent together even in the short time they’d known each other, about how much she meant to him; It destroyed her inside.

There was a look shared between the handmaiden and the stable boy from opposite sides of the room. The look that told the other that their hearts were basically in pieces right about now, they were in the exact same boat, and the boat was sinking drastically fast. Harrison and Delilah were only just managing to hold it together out of professionalism only. They had been trained their whole lives to act stoic in moments of severe stress and anger.

“I now pronounce you, Husband and Wife.” There were cheers and applause from most people throughout the room, the people that didn’t see the obvious act the royals were putting on for their families' selfish deal. “You may kiss the bride.”

The kiss was stiff and awkward, nothing like what the Prince felt that first time he kissed Annie, as well as any other time he kissed her because it never seemed to lose its excitement or spark. Tom watched in disgust, turning his head away with a prominent frown.

“Paddy?” Tom whispered, turning his head to look at his younger brother with tears in his eyes. The boy frowned, placing his hand on his brother’s arm comfortingly. “What was the message of that book? The one you were reading that day in the stable.”

“Romeo and Juliet?” he asked, unsure. Tom nodded, remembering the familiar sounding name. “Not all love stories have a happy ending.”

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