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imagine-that-one-thing · 3 years ago

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Her Majesty || 21

Vola con le proprie ali.

Anastasia.

The tour has been brilliant. Everyone has been polite and understanding, not to mention welcoming. I have never felt more at ease while on a Royal duty. This is the first Royal event that has gone effortlessly and smoothly. At least, so far.

When I haven't been around people or doing Royal visits, I have been texting Harry, checking on him and getting caught up to date with everything happening at the palace.. It has been strange not having him around. I have missed his excellent morning kisses and his company. Hotel rooms can be lonely late at night in new cities I have visited many times.

Today I opened up a new hospital and had the honour of cutting the ribbon before I was invited to a small vineyard for some wine tasting. It was beautiful and quite relaxing; I'd even say it made me feel normal for a few minutes.

The car door opens, and I carefully step out, adjusting my dress and thanking the gentleman. I turn and wait for Matthew as he slides out of the car. I have grown accustomed to waiting on Matthew to escort me into hotels or venues. "Go ahead, Anastasia," Matthew gestures. I frown for a moment, but I turn on my heel and look towards the hotel steps.

I take a double look, and my eyes grow wide with excitement, "Harry?" I smile, racing up the stairs as he stands at the top. Finally, I reach him, and he wraps his arm around me, holding me close.

"Hi, my love," Harry greets, kissing the top of my head.

I benevolently pull away and beam up at him, "I thought you couldn't fly?"

"I drove," Harry smiles, leaning down and kissing my lips kindly before drawing me in closer and kissing me deeper.

Oh, I have missed the kisses and sweet moments of heart flutters.

We pull away, beaming at each other as we stand on the steps. "Keep it PG, kids. There are paps," Matthew gestures towards the few cameramen that have been camping outside the last two days. I am not sure what their reasoning is. I don't think my photos of entering a hotel are interesting, but the media seem to enjoy my company. I have never really been around the press much. They have always been more interested in my mother and father. However, due to unforeseen circumstances, I have become their primary focus. I find it hard to understand how the public love photos of me doing mundane things.

"Missed you too, pal," Harry jokes, taking my hand before we wander into the hotel.

"I haven't missed you, Harry," Matthew responds, "You have two hours before your event. Please remember the walls are paper-thin, and I'm right next to your room," Matthew informs me, gesturing for Harry and me to step into the elevator.

Harry chuckles, "Don't worry, I'll be quiet, Matthew," Harry teases Matthew, and I mildly nudge him, "Oh, still sensitive," Harry playfully whines, adjusting his sling.

"So, you drove all those hours for me?"

Harry shakes his head, "No, baby, I drove it for Matthew, my true love, and the wine," Harry sarcastically responds, causing Matthew to shake his head and huff. Deep down, I am sure Matthew loves our company.

"You make me regret my decision of letting you come," Matthew mutters, "I'll put you on duty if you don't stop."

Harry chuckles, "Ah, I'm technically not allowed to be on her service," Harry grins, "Doctors orders." Harry continues as the elevator door opens. Harry has not been cleared yet to return to his job thoroughly. He has been on desk duties when expected work. I can only imagine he has been bored out of his brain while on desk duties.

The three of us step out into the hallway and lead down the long-drawn hall to our separate rooms. Harry shifts my hand away from the door, pushing down on the handle and opening the door, allowing me to step in first.

The door closes behind him, and I turn on my heel to face him, my arms snaking around his neck, "Hi," I breathe out with a smile, his hand resting in the small of my back.

"Hi, my darling," Harry whispers, leaning down and kissing me sweetly, his lips touching mine, reminding me how much I have missed this. I deepen the kiss and deliberately push my body up against his, causing a groan to escape his lips.

It has been long enough.

He breaks our kiss and draws away for a brief moment, reaching his hand to stretch his sling over his head and throw it to the floor. He takes me by surprise when he urges me against the wall, propelling his body against mine, resting his lips on the slender column of my neck. I tilt my head to the side, enabling the kisses to raise my fevered skin, the longing of anticipation seething within me as he bites down benevolently before letting go, making sure not to leave a visible mark.

God forbid the Queen has any mark on her. It would be scandalous if they knew I had sex in my spare time.

We dance around the room, eagerly working to feel each other and find our way to the bed, longing for anticipation settling between us.

I fall to the bed, his body between my legs as he kisses my exposed skin, gracing my neckline, collarbone and the parts of my boobs the dress doesn't cover,

Harry sighs as he draws away, "I'm sorry," he breathes, struggling to hold himself up as he hovers over me, his arm shaking.

I can recognise the discomfort in his eyes, as much as I want him to pleasure me in every way possible, and as much as I want his necklace to dangle across my fevered skin, I will not allow him to do all the work when he physically cannot. I shake my head, and I tenderly clasp my hand to his chest, "Swap," I command, pushing on his chest and moving my body. He frowns for a moment before listening.

Harry rests on the edge of the bed, and I caress my knees to either side of his hips, my hands clasped to his shoulders. I lean down and welcome him with an open-mouthed kiss, my hair tumbling over my shoulders as his hands squeeze to my hips to maintain my balance.

My hands travel to his shirt, and I begin to gradually unbutton the buttons, one by one revealing his tanned skin before tugging it from his pants and forcing it to fall down his shoulders and out of my way. "I intended to please you," Harry whispers, and I bring my hand to rest under his chin.

I cock my head to the side and gaze at him, "You are," I assure him, "Undo your pants," I instruct, taking bold possession of his mouth, enabling myself to taste the walls of his mouth.

He does as I have instructed, wasting no time with unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, leaning back slightly when I encompass my hands down his torso, exploring every dip and muscle the man has to offer. "Mmm, no," he takes my hands, lifting them from his body. "Not yet," he mumbles against my lips, shifting my hands to my side.

He glides his hand up my thigh, bunching my dress as he goes along, driving it further and further up my leg before settling at my underwear. Next, he glides his finger along the thin material that holds at my hip, following it along the waistband. I observe his fingers curl under the material at my stomach, and immediately I welcome my head, wanting to spin. "To come off or to push to the side?" He teases, influencing his fingers to the sides before spreading the length of his finger across me, causing a moan to befall from my lips.

There's a yearning sensation making itself known with every subtle stroke he makes against the material, causing my kisses to get deeper and my hands struggle to seize themselves from roaming his body. Then, finally, he decides to delicately slide the underwear down my thighs, requiring me to move my legs to slide them off and settle them to the floor entirely.

I reposition myself on him, and he glances at me with a grin, his eyes glowing with anticipation. He again shifts my dress up my thigh, his hand ever so nonchalantly gliding up my inner thigh. I feel my body twitch the higher he gets, the anticipation enthralling me by the second. I drag away from the kiss and tilt my head back the second I welcome him glide his finger against me before sliding it in, beginning to move in circular motions while his thumb presses against my nerves, slowly rubbing the area. His other hand slips under my dress and unhooks my bra, giving him easy access to squeezing my boob, tampering with my sanity more.

My breath gets heavier with each stroke, and I discover myself rolling my hips against his circular motions, my eyes wanting to close to half mask, but I stop them. My moans turn to gasps the faster he gets, his agile fingers working their magic in every damn way possible. I can feel my legs getting shaky and my body wanting to squirm against him.

I lean forward and begin to kiss him, my hands rubbing through his hair, his free hand gripping my hip to stop my squirms, "Hold on," he whispers as I move my hands to his shoulders, squeezing tightly, feeling the digging waves coming at me.

I whisper nonsense in his ear, squirming under his touch, "Right there," I breathe out, my toes curling as I lean back and arch my back, better accepting what he's offering. His strokes become deeper, and I swallow hard at his twisting fingers, getting me closer and closer to orgasm.

The sound of a knock on the door reverberates in my ears, and my mouth drops, my head falling in the same motion. "Please," I whisper, feeling the erotic and hypnotic power falling over me.

"Go away!" Harry calls out as I squirm against him, my fingers digging into his shoulders before he slides his fingers out, and I stare at him with a wide mouth.

"I was so close," I whisper, almost pitifully and painfully.

He gives me a wink before gesturing towards his lap with his eyes, his hands positioning on my hips as I thoroughly lower down onto his package, adjusting to his growth, my hips rolling in a slow motion, the two of us working together.

The climax comes at me with digging waves, and I fall into him, his arm keen to wrap around me as my thighs quiver from being clamped at his hips and the narcotic sensations. He spreads his fingers through my hair, my breathing levelling out as we both begin to come off the high.

A knock at the door sounds again, and I lift my head to look at Harry, "Go away," Harry again calls, but the knocking persists. "Fuckin' hell," he mutters as I gingerly pull out from him. He moves our positions and flips me onto the bed before standing to his feet and pulling his pants back up.

I adjust my dress so I am covered, and I lay on the bed, watching him stroll towards the door, irritated at the inconvenience— something we ought to be used to by now. "The Queen is busy. When someone says go away, it means to go away."…. "She is asleep. Please let her rest," I overhear part of the conversation before the door closes and he comes towards me. He crawls onto the bed and hovers over me for a minute, leaning down and kissing me benevolently before falling beside me, wrapping his arm around me and tugging me closer to him. Our legs tangle within each other's, and we fill the moment with sweet kisses before he's playing with my hair and smiling at me. "I love you," he whispers.

"I love you," I whisper, "Round two?" I question, admiring him in every single way possible.

"Eager for me, ay?"

I nod my head, "Been weeks."

"Been too long," Harry agrees, kissing me deeply….

♛ ♛ ♛

I clasp my hands against my body, smoothing out my gown, anxiously drawing at it in an attempt to focus on things other than my thoughts. Then, finally, I lift my head, glancing over at the man I fall in love with each day. He is calm and collected; he's like a gentle breeze on an autumn day, comfortable, peaceful, and assuring. For him, it's just another night draped in a suit where he has to stroll around and pretend to like the interaction of other humans. I know he doesn't desire to attend noble events, and I know he is doing it because he isn't permitted to participate as my security guard.

The monarchy, to my surprise, hasn't annihilated his spirits. I imagined the sovereignty and marrying me would divulge him. It hasn't. He stands tall, unphased by the shit that has succumbed. He is strong-willed, more potent than I most of the time. Harry indeed has been a breath of fresh air amongst the disorder, he retains me on my toes, and at moments he makes me enraged, but he holds me together at the end of the day.

The monarchy may never be peaceful as long as I rule, I may always have people fighting against me and a corrupt government as long as I reign, but I don't want that to be my downfall.

There is a part of me that never wants to have children. I don't want to bear children into the world of a royal. The monarchy destroyed me in many ways, ways that I don't wish on my worst enemy.

I found love, I got lucky, but I don't want the story to end here. The notion of baring an heir is scary for numerous reasons, but do I want to live a life without the vibration of children laughing through the palace and keeping Harry on his toes?

Do I want more?

I'm obliged to have an heir, but do I want to?

Does Harry want an heir?

Harry pours himself a drink from the drink decanter, swirling the liquor in his glass before taking a sip and exhaling a content sigh, "Mmm, perfect," Harry hums with delight. He has been looking forward to that drink since the moment he arrived here in Italy with me. He is here as a husband and has been told he is only the security guard for brief moments when Matthew is not beside me.

"You shouldn't be drinking that." I point to the drink.

"I shouldn't do a lot of things," Harry shrugs, not too concerned about the fact he shouldn't have alcohol so soon after his surgery. It has been two weeks, but I still believe he should be resting and taking it easy. But, then again, what we did earlier also shouldn't have been done either.

"I have a question." I softly speak.

"And I have an answer," Harry nods, swirling his drink in his hand.

I grow silent for a moment, my words becoming stuck in my throat. “Darling, what is it?” Harry asks, leaning against the small bar, admiring his drink before looking over at me with an endearing smile.

"Should we have a baby?" I softly ask.

Harry's eyes grow, and he chokes on his liquor, spitting half of it out. He places his glass down on the glass cart and grabs a napkin, dabbing his lips and pressing his shirt as he tries to catch back his breath.

"You're going to open your wound!" I scold, forcing him to stand up straight by pressing my hands to his chest as he winces in some pain.

Harry stops coughing from his liquor and clears his throat, "You're going to give me more wounds by asking such questions. No, Anna, we shouldn't," Harry breathes out.

I'm not entirely surprised by his response. I didn't expect him to choke on his drink, but I did expect him to say no.

I glance down, unsure of how to respond. I hadn't gotten this far when I thought about the approach.

Harry adjusts himself with a slight wince before composing himself and adjusts his sling, "Anastasia," Harry begins, but I shake my head.

"I get it; you don't want to have kids."

"No," Harry shakes his head, "That is not the case. Let me speak," Harry softens his eyes, "You have said yourself you don't want to bring kids into this monarchy, and I think it's perilous to do so right now and a bad idea."… "And I look like the asshole in this situation, fucking hell," Harry mutters. "Is this what you want? A baby?"… "I'll give you what you want."

I don’t want him to give me a baby because it’s what I want. So this isn’t something that can be based on me.

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "We have been married for almost a year." I point out.

It hasn’t been an easy year or a conventional one. We didn’t get our honeymoon, our first dance or anything traditional. We haven’t had time to discuss our marriage or children. Do we want children?

"That doesn't define whether we have to have a kid right now or not. So I'm asking if it's what you want."

"I don't know. I don't know, Harry," I stutter, "I just— never mind." I shake my head, "Forget I said anything."

"Anna," Harry begins, but he stops as he notices someone walking into the tearoom. I look over my shoulder and see a man dressed in a suit. "Can we discuss this later? In private?" Harry offers, and I nod my head.

I don’t want anyone hearing our conversation; it’s nobody’s business what we do.

"The car is waiting, Her Majesty," the man announces, and Matthew walks in behind him.

I thank the man and look at Harry, unsure whether he still wants to attend this event with me, "I'll meet you in the car. I need to change my shirt," Harry informs me, eyeing Matthew for him to take his stance beside me. Matthew and Harry have an unspoken dialogue that only they can understand. One glare from either of them can mean so much.

I nod and proceed to walk with Matthew, doing my best not to adjust the tiara that feels as though it is pulling at my hair. However, I show no restraint and begin to adjust the tiara, huffing as it pulls my hair further before Matthew swats my hands away from my tiara. "Leave it alone."

"You sound like my father," I chuckle.

"If you keep playing with it, it'll fall off."

I heavily sigh and continue to walk, fighting every urge to adjust the damn thing. "Are you happy to have Harry around?"

"I am. I'm glad he has joined me for a few days."

It has been far too long without having him around. Phone calls and texts haven't been sufficient enough; however, it isn't his fault. Harry and I haven't travelled apart often since he joined the team. He has been with me ninety per cent of the time and has only missed a few occasions. He has attended every tour with me, and not having him on this one has been a bit strange. I haven't had anyone make fun of some of the ridiculousness we go through. I haven't had anyone nudge me in awkward situations or whisper things in my ear. I have been strictly doing things on my own, and it has been weird. I've missed the small comments and the hand gestures; I've missed the glances and the smiles. Most of all, I've missed his reassurance when I'm nervous or anxious. I've missed him nodding his head and mouthing, I love you right before I have to make a speech. I've missed him grabbing me when in private and giving me a quick kiss to congratulate me. I've missed it all. I never realised how much he showed he loved me with small gestures until now— now that I haven't had them.

Don't get me wrong, Matthew has kept me company, but it's different.

I sit in the limo with a glass of wine— the wine that I swear is the best wine I have ever tasted. It goes down smooth and has a sweet taste to it. If I don't stop drinking, I'll end up wine drunk. The door opens, and Harry steps in, sitting down on the leather seat beside me. "Starting early," Harry smiles, kissing my cheek while Matthew closes the door and taps the top of the limo with his hand, signalling for the driver to start driving.

I hand Harry the glass, but he shakes his head, "Can't have any more alcohol, Matthew will kill me, and so will the Royal doctor who's up my ass," Harry informs me, politely handing me back the glass. "Tell me again, what are we attending?"

"It's a State Banquet in honour of me. So the Italian President insisted."

"Right," Harry nods, adjusting his sling, "And what's the point of this?" He doesn't sound too enthused.

"Well, as you know, the point of tours is the national importance the hosting government would like to draw attention to. So I'm strengthening the ties we have here and drawing attention to the organisation the President needs."

"So, you're being used?" He isn't impressed.

"Well," I begin, "There's mutual agreement. It helps the United Kingdom, too. The key moments are either directly or indirectly related to the Crown."

Harry nods his head and offers me a smile, "I'm proud of you, Anna."… "You have done such a wonderful job this tour."

"How do you know?" I ask, "I'm not trying to be rude by asking."

"Matthew fills me in, and the media has been boasting about you. So has the private secretaries, program and logistics coordinators. Everyone has said how well you have done."

I take a sip of my wine to conceal my smile. But, of course, I have done well. I am my father's daughter. "Thank you. It has been a bit weird without you around, though."

"The Palace has been very boring without you," Harry responds, "Oliver and I walk through the gardens just to try and pass the time. Walked every trail."

"Awe, you missed me," I gently nudge Harry.

Harry shakes his head with a chuckle escaping his lips, "I said no such thing." Harry grins just as the limo comes to a stop. "Baby," Harry whispers, turning his body to face me fully. He places his hand on my neck and gently pulls me closer, pressing his lips against mine and kissing me softly and sweetly. Then, Harry gently pulls away, and I smile at him, his eyes full of love. "I have missed you, and I love you."

"I love you," I respond, leaning forward and kissing him.

No matter how well I have done on this tour, no matter how many hearts I have captured and the public's support I have, it all means nothing to me. My world goes beyond the monarch's success; the monarchy is not my main concern. There is so much hatred and distrust, dissolution, broken battles and evil ties— and I don't want that to be a part of who I am as a Queen or as a woman in society. My role isn't discerned by how well I charm the public or how I address the nation with speeches, but by how I love, how I love myself and others. I don't want to rule with an iron fist; I want to lead with compassion, emotion, happiness and love.

***

I stroll around the event, speaking to everyone who wishes to come up to me, making sure to introduce them to Harry, my husband. I believe it is time he is presented as more than my security detail or boyfriend. I've waited long enough and think it's wonderful to confirm he is my husband. Of course, it is nobody's business how, when or why we got married in secret, but I don't wish to continue to keep him a secret. The public already knows we are together, and I believe other royals and government officials are fine to know he is my husband.

Harry isn't too imbued with the event, he stays by my side and endeavours to be polite with conversations, but he isn't much of a talker. On the other hand, I presume he appreciates being a security detail for the very purpose he doesn't have to speak to anyone unless he's telling them to leave me alone.

"You alright?" I challenge as I take another glass of wine from a waiter and gaze at Harry, who's adjusting his sling.

"Yes."

"Are you in pain? We can leave."

Harry shakes his head, "We are not leaving, but you can't get wine drunk until we get back to the hotel," Harry informs me, "I don't care, but I don't think it'll be a good look for the Queen to be drunk." Finally, Harry points out the fact I am on my third glass of wine.

The wine keeps me calm while I fly solo; wine is how I have survived the tour on my own.

"I'm not a lightweight."

"I've seen you drink," Harry laughs, "And the wine here isn't the shit we have at home; you're going to end up drunk."

I heavily sigh and deliver Harry my glass, "Fine, but I expect a glass when I get to the hotel."

"I'll make sure of it," Harry nods, "The prime minister or whatever he is, is gesturing for you," Harry flicks his head towards the President of Italy.

Harry and I both step closer, and Harry shakes his hand, "I believe I am to courtesy to you," the President shakes his head, respectfully curtsying to both of us. "And as much as I like you, His Majesty, I'd like to speak with Her Majesty, alone."

Harry gazes at me, waiting for my approval. I take a moment, my stomach inflating with butterflies. I'm not sure what he'd want to discuss with me alone, but I can only imagine it can't be good. My father never told me what to do when it came to such an invitation.

I nod my head, and Harry respects my response, "As you wish," Harry accepts, leaning closer to kiss my cheek before moving his lips to my ear, "I'll be watching, if you need me, you know what to do." Harry whispers, reassuring me that even though I'll be alone, he will follow until Matthew comes back to my service.

The President and I move outside into the crisp air, the gardens of his estate being beautiful and charming.

"As one sovereign to another, I advise you to be careful, Parliament may be strong, but you and your husband are stronger, don't be naive, Her Majesty. Not even I deal with your Parliament. Your Parliament is going to destroy you. Your father and I have discussed this many times." The man begins as we exercise across the grey pavement, the hosting building on my left and a stunning terrace on my right. "It is about time you are made aware of the fact other sovereigns don't care for your parliament."

"What do you know about parliament?" I question, unsure of how profoundly my father has spoken to other officials. "Was my father trying to make allies?"

"Do you think he'd have been where he was if he didn't form allies?"

"Considering where he is now, I think it's safe to say making allies didn't help him," I respond.

"Anastasia, if people pull away from the sovereign, you will be left with nothing; the Crown cannot stand on its own. You will lose power the longer you have your government." The President informs me of what I already apprehend. Without the backing of other countries, I will falter. The monarch stands on its own two feet, but the allies are what make us more substantial.

"How do I get rid of them? They have become dangerous. They hold their position through default and sinister ties."

"Dissolve Parliament."

"I have thought about that, Harry and I have discussed it."… "The last time a monarch dissolved Parliament was in 1830, and a decision to do so today would most likely be hugely unpopular with the citizenry." I bring to the attention that dissolving parliment has not happened recently. It is frowned upon these days.

“Dissolve it, Annastasia. And officially open Parliament to commence the Parliamentary year. Then work on your Prime Minister." The President instructs, "I say this because I know you have not been guided. Your father wouldn't want you dealing with this."

"There is a strong constitutional convention that the Queen should be kept out of politics. I cannot do much when it comes to Pippa."

"You are wrong," He shakes his head, "There are ways around it; dissolve your Parliament and reelect, then work on Pippa. Your father only kept Pippa around because of a contract."

"Is that contract void?" I softly ask, already knowing my answer.

He shakes his head, "No, but you will find a way to work around it. If you are smart, you will dissolve before it is too late."

I understand what I have to do, but I am not sure I have the endowment to do this on my own two feet. My father didn't equip me for these varieties of things. I preferred things when Harry had the Crown and was advancing the decisions behind closed doors. He executes a more competent ruler than I.

"Parliament killed my father, didn't they?" I softly request.

"I promised Harry I would not speak of your father's murder."

"You have spoken to Harry?" I immediately question, astonished to hear that Harry has spoken to the Italian officials about my father.

"There is a saying in this country, 'A buon intenditor, poche parole.'"… "Do you understand?"

I shrug my shoulders, "Few words to the wise."

He nods his head, "This saying indicates that when someone is smart and intuitive, they do not need many explanations to understand something."

I nod my head, realising what he is attempting to say, "A volte è Meglio stare con le mani in mano e non fare nulla?" I ask.

"Correct, sometimes it is best to sit on your hands and do nothing. So sit on your hands and let Harry do what he is doing."… "Our time is up. You need to go back to Matthew," He motions towards Matthew, who is standing, watching me intently, Harry right beside him. "You have some powerful leaders backing you if you dissolve, we can discuss once you are in London, now go," he commands, caressing a glass to his lips and wandering away from me, leaving me alone as I watch him fall off into a small crowd of minglers while he enters the building.

Harry makes his way to me, "You alright?" Harry immediately challenges, and I nod my head.

"I can't believe you left her alone," Matthew comments, not appearing satisfied with Harry.

Harry shrugs his shoulders, "Vola con le proprie all." Harry effortlessly speaks, causing me to smirk.

"Okay, that isn't fair. You know I am still learning Italian, you shithead," Matthew grumbles.

I chuckle, and Harry grins, "She flies with her own wings," Harry continues, "She was fine. I was watching. I'm not that much of a moron."

"That is still up for the jury to decide," Matthew laughs.

"Matthew, may I speak with Harry?" I softly challenge.

Matthew raises a brow but concedes, "Five minutes and then you better be inside, and no kissing, seen enough of it," Matthew warns with a slight grin to his lips.

Mathew leaves Harry and me alone, "What's wrong, Anna?"

I shake my head and grant him a smile, "I just want a minute to sit before going back to being a Royal." I inform him, advancing towards the concrete wall separating us from the garden and assembling on it. I breathe in the cooler air of the evening, adjusting the straps of my dress so they stay situated on my shoulders. "You know, this tour has been good to me. I've done so well even without you here."

"That's because you don't need me to govern, Anna. You're stalwart on your own. I wish you'd realise that."

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "I like the notion of having someone to fall back on. You're my safety blanket."

"I know, but your safety blanket can't be around all the time," Harry returns, perching beside me and adjusting his tie. "You don't need anyone to rule. You don't require Pippa or me. You don't even need Louis, baby. You're the leader. You know what you're doing, have faith and confidence."

"Bit hard when I feel lost, the Italian President doesn't even like my government… That says a lot," I inform Harry, "Besides the point… I've done so well and yet here I am sitting here unsure whether I'm doing things right."

"Self-doubt kills a lot, don't let it kill you, Anna. You're not going to shut down or panic. You're going to walk back in there, speak to whoever the fuck you need to speak to, and you're going to finish this event strong."

"Are you giving me a pep talk?" I curiously request.

"Yes," Harry responds, "As much as I would love to tell you that we can go to the hotel and ignore your duties, we cannot. You don't get to back down. You've gotten this far. You can sit here for as long as you need, but you're not letting your self-doubt win."

"So, we aren't sneaking off?"

"Not a chance," Harry shakes his head, "But, this woman keeps hitting on me, and I have no clue who she is."

I raise a brow and cock my head to glance at him, "You'll have to show her to me," I instruct, sliding off the small ledge and beginning to walk towards the doors. I turn to gaze at Harry, "You coming or not?"

Harry steps away from the stone concrete and walls closer to me. He opens the door for me and enables me to enter first.

I take a breath, and as the door closes behind me, Harry's hand caresses to the small of my back, giving me the slight nudge to regain my confidence within me. I will hold the Crown high and carry myself with such grace.

I recognise a woman graze her hand against Harry's before she pauses and smiles at him, "I don't believe we've met," she bats her eyes, disregarding me as I step beside Harry.

"I believe you've met my wife," Harry gestures towards me, placing an arm around me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, but I need to keep moving," Harry respectfully dismisses the woman, taking her by surprise. I don't think as a princess, a commoner has ever rejected her.

I clear my throat and smile, "I believe we have met and that you should be curtsying to him," I nod my head, expecting the Princess to curtsy. The princess bows and acknowledges him as a royal before granting him yet another broad smile. "This is Mary-Anne, Princess of Spain; she likes to court the men that are taken," I introduce the two of them.

Mary-Anne chuckles, "All royal men need a mistress, right?"

"Not this one," Harry comments, leading away before I can blink twice.

Mary-Anne watches his long strides before she turns to me, "Do you want to gossip?"

"Does this have anything to do with my husband?" I ask, trying not to chuckle at the way she asks if I want gossip. I may be the Queen, but even the Queen likes to have some good tea.

Mary-Anne chuckles and shakes her head, "Oh, darling, no. As easy as he is on the eyes, he is not of my concern. You should know by now that I eye a man for a reason." ... "And I am not interested in your husband. It's fun to watch him squirm."

Mary-Anne has a point. As much as she and I banter quite a bit and have clashed heads a few times, she does come in handy. She watches and reads everybody in a room. I remember as kids, she and I would be forced to linger in the background and go unseen at functions. Mary-Anne would perpetually remain in the shadows and listen; she watched intently to the point she realised she could use it to her advantage as she got older. Mary-Anne could give me a rundown of every person in this room. She knows how to go unseen and get answers to things without much trouble.

"Your husband is being watched, I'm sure he knows it, but the man in the corner," Mary-Anne subtly tilts her head to the side, and I follow her gaze, "He is watching Harry and you. He's not speaking to any royals, only those who are working the event or have no title."

"What do you know about him?" I softly request.

"Nothing," Mary-Anne responds, "Nobody here knows him. Security is watching him, but there are no grounds to kick him out. He appears cunning."… "And the blond over there, she wants to get in your husband's pants." Mary-Anne gestures towards the Princess, who indeed is eyeing Harry.

"It sometimes worries me how well you read people," I sigh, viewing as Harry and Matthew speak to the blond woman.

"Don't worry; they're using her as an excuse to stay close to that man."

"You really ought to have gotten into investigating work."

Mary-Anne lifts her shoulders into a shrug, "Became a Royal instead," she laughs, "How's Madeleine?"

"She's well, staying with me since the fire."

"I heard about that. They're saying it was intentional."

I nod my head, "Us royals are not very liked at the moment," I respond.

I think I speak for all of us when I say that we are not admired very much. But, on the other hand, we are all being targeted in our own ways.

Mary-Anne hums, "How does it feel to have an event in your honour?"

"Not quite sure this event is for my honour," I respond, continuing to watch Harry.

"Ahh, and she is smart. The event is just a cover. It was the only way to get you here long enough for the President to speak to you off the grid."

"How many people noticed?" I ask.

It didn't dawn on me that this was an intelligent way for the President to speak to me off the grid.

Mary-Anne pauses for a moment, "Just myself. It was orchestrated well."

"Not well enough since you know."

"Darling, who do you think orchestrated it?" She responds with a cunning smile before sauntering off.

I am left speechless while Mary-Anne drifts off into the sea of royals and elites. The woman is inspiring and productive in her own way. She is not your everyday royal, she stays out of most things and keeps her mouth shut, but she knows when the right time to come out of the shadows is. Mary-Anne isn't captured in the media frequently. But, again, she knows how to blend into a crowd and go undiscovered. When Mary-Anne doesn't want to be noticed, she will go by her alias name, and it is on the occasions she greets me with her alias that I know my security team will be closer to me than usual. Matthew has possessed an entire security team near me at all times when she has welcomed me with her fake handle.

I once again find my way to Harry, interrupting his conversation with Matthew, the two of them going mute and glancing at me. “Well, that’s one way to make it obvious you don’t want me around to hear the topic of conversation,” I mutter, shaking my head and stepping away from them.

I feel fingers wrap ever so carefully around my wrist, their strength drawing me into Harry’s body. “Harry,” Matthew scolds, “You cannot grab the Queen like that in public.”

“She’s my wife. I can do as I please,” Harry responds, kissing the top of my head, his arm snaking around my lower back, “Always want you around, but some things are business,” Harry informs me.

“Mhm,” I hum, “I hope you two are discussing the man who’s watching us because I’m starting to feel uncomfortable,” I subtly gesture towards the same man who Mary-Anne pointed out was watching Harry intently. “Without you two making fun of me, my intuition is screaming at me that he isn’t here because he loves royal affairs.”

“I told you she noticed,” Matthew murmurs, “Would you feel more comfortable leaving?”

“Matthew, don’t give her an easy way out,” Harry shakes his head sternly, not appreciating the fact Matthew is offering for us to leave.

“Who’s in charge here?” … “Last time I checked, you’re still unable to be on her service.”

“Matthew—“ Harry pauses before he nods his head, “Do as you wish, I’ll shut up.” Mutters, knowing his limits with Matthew and having respect for him.

“Yes, shut up,” Matthew nods his head, “Your highness,” Matthew grins, purposely trying to get under Harry’s skin.

Harry clears his throat, “Matthew,” Harry narrows his eyes to Matthew, “You're a dick.”

I roll my eyes at the two of them and shake my head, “I’m going to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” I inform the two of them, my hands reaching for the material of my gown and lifting it so I can walk freely.

I step outside the golden doors, my heels hitting the grey tiles, my dress dancing across the tiles as I make my way towards the lady’s room. I round the corner, and I gasp, a body tumbling into me at force, my hands abandoning my clutch from my hands. “I’m so sorry,” I immediately apologise, stepping back from the silhouette that had run into me.

My eyes meet a set of blue eyes in front of me, “I’m so sorry,” the man apologises, bending down and picking up my clutch bag, returning it to me graciously with a smile.

“It’s okay. Mistakes happen,” I assure him, a sudden hand caressing to my back startling me.

I gasp and turn around, meeting Harry’s green eyes, “Give me the clutch,” he’s stern as he speaks, his hand grasping for my clutch and taking it from my hands before I can begin to shake my head. “Keep it moving,” Harry glares towards the man who ran into me.

“Harry,” I benevolently scold, observing the man walk off without a word. “That was rude.”

Harry nods his head, “That wasn’t an accident, Anna. He calculated running into you,” Harry responds, “Help me take this jacket off, please,” Harry instructs, gesturing towards his suit jacket. I step closer and take his jacket off his shoulders, and he slides his good arm out of the sleeve. He takes the jacket from my hands and steps behind me, kindly placing it over my shoulders. I turn around to face him, my eyes creasing into a frown. Harry leans closer and kisses my cheek before his lips move closer to my ear, “My pistol is in the jacket pocket.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine,” Harry responds, “We’re leaving soon. Matthew is following the guy you pointed out to me.”

“I don’t want to leave you unarmed.”

Harry shakes his head, “I’m armed,” Harry whispers, kissing my cheek again, “Don’t let anyone touch your clutch.”

“Harry, it was—“

Harry shakes his head, “it wasn’t an accident. Don’t let anyone touch your clutch.”

I nod my head, turning around and going back towards where the event is taking place. Perhaps I shouldn’t use the bathroom right now; Harry has me cautious and on high alert suddenly.

***

Harry lays down on the bed, letting out a heavy breath, his eyes closing as I launch my clutch to the bed, grateful to be at the hotel and away from people. Towards the end, people were getting drunk, and it was starting to get a bit out of hand for us royals that aren’t allowed to be rowdy and show that side of us while pictures can be taken. The event was calculated so that the President could find a way to speak to me one on one without drawing attention to us. It was well done, and something I needed. I know I can take down the political party that is destined to destroy me. I’m just not entirely sure how to implement the plans. Part of me is scared of the power I possess and the outcome.

If I could start over and clear the parliament members, I could gain control again in a safe manner. Unfortunately, the members in Parliament are the very ones who more than likely killed Victoria, Henry and my father. They may kill me next. I am unaware of what evil vendetta they have against my family and me. I have done nothing. Whatever my father has done should have ended the moment he died; sadly, the vendetta has continued. I can’t end the monarchy, so I shall play the monarchy at its own game; I will divide and conquer.

The car ride to the hotel was quiet, and Harry didn’t speak. Instead, he rested his head on the window and conceded my thoughts to race through my head, giving me time to conduct some sort of plan.

I could just kill them before they kill me? Right?

Kill or be killed.

What a story I would be in history books years to come: Queen Anastasia not only married a commoner in secret and had him rule the monarch for a few months, but she also beheaded her parliament months after becoming Queen.

I’m not sure that is how I want to be remembered in history books. I’d like to be recognised as the Queen who is dignified, honourable and powerful. I want to be compassionate and make a difference in the world. But for me to be the things I wish to be, I must make progress. The wrong move may kill me, or it may make me. There’s no in-between.

Although I'm convinced they’ll kill me next, part of me is profoundly concerned for Harry. He doesn’t seem to have a care in the world for his safety, but as he is King, I struggle with ignoring the fact he’s also a threat. It is not known to the world he is King. The people do not know the extent of our relationship or that he has the title, but the government does. If I’m a target, so is he. Harry rules with me; we are equal. Harry takes the crown if something happens to me, and he shall keep the crown until an heir is old enough to hold it.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as I hear Harry let out a moan. I peer over at him, pain in his eyes as he sits up, “Fuck me,” he murmurs.

I step towards the duffel bag he came here with, and I unzip it, my hand tunnelling through it before finding the small container of pain pills. I step towards the mini-fridge, and I take a cold water bottle between my fingers before I step to the bed. I hand Harry his pain meds and the bottle, “Thank you, Anna,” Harry half-smiles, opening the container and pouring two round pills into his hand.

While he settles his pain, I assemble on the edge of the bed, my hand stretching towards the strap of my shoes.

"I don't assume a puppy will fix your emptiness and desire to have a baby?" Harry questions, trying to break the ice as I slip off my heels, hurting my feet since I put them on for the event.

"Can we forget it?" I ask, feeling a sense of idiocy for asking him such a question. We haven't been married for too long, and he does have a point. I did express that I would never want to bring a baby into this monarch the way it is. I honestly never wanted to have a baby while in the monarchy, but it seems that I am not escaping.

I stand to my feet, ready to take the dress off of my body.

“Allow me,” Harry whispers, his hand pressing to the small of my back.

Harry moves my curls of cinnamon-brown hair to fall over my shoulder, and he unclips the diamonds from my neck, thoughtfully lifting them off my chest and placing them down ever so delicately. I go to step away from him, but he draws me into him. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close, my back resting against his chest. "Hey," Harry whispers, "I have a question."

"I have an answer," I respond, using the same smart ass comment he used on me earlier.

"Is a baby something you want, whether it be now or in the future?"

I nod my head, "Yes, but it's not logical right now."

The words slip from my mouth before I can honestly think about the question. I don’t want to be lonely and have a void in my heart from the lack of having a family. I want a family, and selfishly, I want to feel needed and wanted.

"I think you're right. But I think we need to be on the same page about something," Harry begins, "Whenever this happens," Harry moves his hands to rest on my stomach tenderly, "It'll happen whenever it's meant to, and it's something I want too, not right now, but whenever it's meant to be. I'm not opposed to having kids; I'm just not sure I trust the monarch right now."

"The monarch isn't going anywhere, Harry. Abolishing is more power than I can put forth."… "It may never be safe to have a baby."

"It will be safe soon enough."

"We can't guarantee that. We are working on taking control, but we are getting nowhere."

"Having a baby won't make any of this easier. On the contrary, it'll make it harder, Anna. Are you still trying to compensate for grieving still?"

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, "I don't know."

"I think maybe we should come back to this conversation when you have a clearer mind?" Harry suggests. "It's a lot to think about."

"You're right," I pull away from Harry, "Plus, it'll be hard to be pregnant when I'm struggling to fulfil all duties as Queen."

“There is a saying La gatta frettolosa fa I figli ciechi.”

"What is with everyone speaking Italian to me tonight? Non capisco," I throw my hands in the air, a little irritated. I don't know what cats have to do with this conversation. I may be able to speak Italian, but I do not understand the damn idioms.

"It translates to, the hurry cat makes blind children."

"I know, but I do not understand." I raise a brow, wholly lost with this conversation. "Are you saying my children will be blind?"

"No," Harry chuckles, "Sweetheart, this proverb is used to say that everything must be done in its own right time."

"Like having a baby?"

Harry nods his head. "Yes, because if you do this in a rush, you might have negative consequences."

"Mhm," I hum, "I see. I am going to change the subject for a minute," I pull Harry into the bathroom, and I run the water, unsure of who could be listening to our conversation, even if it is just Matthew, I still do not want him to know what I am about to say.

"Oh god, is this one of those moments like when you dragged me into the tunnels?" Harry sighs, and I roll my eyes.

"I know you spoke to the president."

"Anna," Harry instantly cuts me off, "Non qui, amore mio." Harry is stern as he tells me we cannot discuss this now. Harry leans closer, his lips pressing to my ear, "Not now, baby, this needs to be entirely private."

I heavily sigh and nod my head, "Well, if anyone is listening, they now know I want a baby," I mutter as I turn the water off and look at Harry.

"Better that than what you want to discuss, trust me," Harry responds, "How about a late-night getaway?" Harry endeavours, his question taking me by surprise.

"Like, leave the hotel?" My eyes grow wide at the thought of leaving the hotel without the array of an entourage to follow. "Are we sneaking out?" I question the idea of being scandalous, brightening my eyes.

Harry rolls his eyes, "Leaving the hotel room with your husband is not sneaking out when he is part of your security." ... "Put on some comfortable clothes, and let’s go,” Harry instructs, tugging at his tie while I turn off the running water I was using to make sure nobody could hear us.

***

Harry and I sneak out of the hotel, and when I say sneak, I mean Harry has probably had this planned. But for spontaneous reasons, we snuck out. We both sit in the gondola, his arm wrapped around me and my head on his shoulder, nothing but utter quietness of a bit of town falling asleep sounding. It’s beautiful and peaceful. During the day, Italy is bustling, but it turns into a quiet village where only a few couples are out and romantic and blissful at night. It’s as though the city is known to bring out romance in couples and spread love.

“It’s strange to think how everything happens for a reason. If you’d never moved to London and taken the job, we wouldn’t be married,” I break the silence, thinking out loud without much thought.

I lived a life without Harry, and I never knew what I was missing until he walked into my life. Him walking into my life isn’t like one of those moments where he saved me from myself or my loneliness. He simply walked in and painted a golden sky full of the most flamboyant colours that held so much beauty and intensity. He walked in and brightened my sunsets, adding an extra dash of pinks and purples on the bad days I never knew affected me.

Harry rubs small circles on my hip, holding me closer as he kisses the top of my forehead, “I’d have found you.”

“Really?” I whisper.

“Really,” Harry nods, “Think we were meant to be. I’d have somehow found you in this life.”

“I’d have found you, too,” I whisper, nestling into him for his warmth.

I’d like to think that even if we hadn't met when we did, somewhere within this lifetime, we’d have found each other, whether it be by pure accident of running into each other at an obscure location or by some grace of God. Although my life has been up and down, there’s one thing that has been constant— him. Harry has had every opportunity to walk away and call it quits. He has held things together well and been the rock I've needed. After many emotional nights and ridiculous arguments, he hasn’t held it against me and decided the marriage was over. He wakes up every day and shows me his love and devotion. The man loved me so much he held the crown until I could take it over and selflessly gave it to me without thinking twice.

I hope Harry never goes through the pain I have gone through mentally and emotionally, but if there ever comes a time he does, I will be the rock he needs. I will hold him on the nights he needs a sense of security. But, instead, he, he and I’ll wipe away any tears that fall from his eyes. I’ll take away any pain that I can and replace it with positivity and love. I may not have the ability to take away any pain he may endure physically, but I can do my best to stand by him through it all and share the burdens of life with him.

“I don’t want to do life without you,” my voice is soft as my hand squeezes his thigh lightly, the sudden realisation that this won’t last forever hitting me.

The idea of doing life without him by my side is a scary thought— a thought I don’t want to have. Life is unpredictable. Anything can happen at a given moment. But at the end of each day, before I close my eyes, having him beside me is enough for one to be okay with life being so unpredictable. No matter what happens, I have his love and support, something I never knew I needed as much as I do until now. Having someone by your side is comforting and energetic.

“You don’t have to, darling,” Harry responds, his hand leaving my hip so he can use it to adjust his sling. He moves forward slightly and pulls his sling over his head, allowing it to fall and his arm to rest on his arm with a heavy sigh. “I don’t plan to go anywhere. And if anything ever happens, just know I love you.” He pulls me back into him, holding me tighter against his chest without his sling in the way, “You get on my nerves and test my patients, but I love you, Anna, even on the nights you take all the damn covers from me, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I respond, “Only you would tell me you love me and also tell me I’m a pain in your ass.”

“That’s the definition of love, sweetheart,” Harry chuckles.

“I don’t want to live without you,” I whisper, the words almost sinking into my throat.

The mere idea of living life without him is nothing I want to have to handle. I never thought that my world would revolve around a man, granted he isn’t just any man, but I never thought I would get to this point in my life. The man beside me drove hours to see me, even if it wasn't for too long. The man beside me reads books late at night to stay awake when I cannot sleep, he spends every spare minute making me laugh. The man in front of me is the reason for my smile, the reason for the constant love and support I feel, and most of all, he is the man that I fell in love with, a man that has made an impact on my life in ways I cannot explain. Through all the ups and downs, I want to spend this life with him without the idea of having to do life without him. I cannot imagine life without this man. It is no life at all if you ask me.

“You don’t have to, I promise,” Harry responds, and I feel him leave a kiss on the top of my head.

I hope he is right. I hope I don’t have to endure a life that doesn’t have him in it.

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rosethornxs · 7 years ago

Text

Bellamy Blake x Reader : Forgiveness

I recently got back into The 100 and as we all know Bellamy is a freakin babe so I decided to write some hella angsty light smut for you all. This is my first time writing smut so please forgive me if it is a little rusty.

Summary: Set at the end of season 3 right after ALIE is defeated. The reader feels guilty about hurting people while under ALIE’s control and Bellamy comforts her. Light smut ensues.

Warnings: Angst, Smut

On the drive back from Polis to Arkadia barely a word was spoken between you and the others. Your mind kept drifting to all the terrible things you had done while under ALIE’s control and you couldn't bear it anymore. You sighed and let your head fall into your hands to hide the tears that had begun to stream down your cheeks. It was so hard to simply blame ALIE for the pain you caused.

“Hey, we're almost home,” Bellamy said patting your shoulder. You wiped your face with the back of your sleeve and looked up at him with a weak smile. His expression shared the same pain as you felt. You leaned back against the side of the rover and put you head on Bellamy’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and gave you a comforting squeeze.

You and Bellamy had grown much closer on the ground. On the Ark you were acquaintances because he often came to mop the kitchen and dining area where you worked. Over time you started talking and getting to know him more. You learned about his sister in the Sky Box and his floated mother. You also learned he was kind and loyal, would do absolutely anything for his sister, and not to mention he was incredibly attractive and had the loveliest smile.

You ended up being thrown in the Sky Box after being accused of stealing rations, which you didn't. You knew who it was, it was that bitch head cook who had it out for you since you first started working in the kitchen. Bellamy had watched in anger as you were escorted away by the guard. When The 100 were sent to the ground, you were one of the very few people Bellamy trusted and didn't treat like crap. You were friends even, but over time you grew to care more about him and always got worried when he was put on a mission or left Arkadia. Now he was one of your closest friends and you could always tell when the other was having a bad day or wasn't doing fine. You wouldn't dare tell him how you really felt you because you didn't want to risk what you already had.

“I'm sorry for punching you,” you murmured.

“It's fine, it wasn't you,” Bellamy assured but it didn't make you feel any better.

The rover pulled through Arkadia’s still damaged gate and into the garage. You and the others jumped out and were greeted happily by Raven, Monty, Harper and Jasper. You were glad to be back but it didn't feel right, you felt tainted. As Clarke told everyone what happened, you wandered outside to wash off the remaining blood and dirt on your skin. You peeled your jacket from your shoulders and let down your hair. Grabbing a rag from the edge of the water bucket you splashed water on your face and began wiping the grime off yourself. You closed your eyes and let the water flow over your skin and when you opened them Bellamy was standing across the water bucket watching you.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I'm fine,” You replied and dipped the rag in the water again. Bellamy grabbed your wrist.

“I know you're not, if you want to talk I'm…”

“Bellamy, I'm fine, I don't need to talk,” You snapped, pulling your wrist from his grip.

“Y/n please, you're torturing yourself, I can see it.” Bellamy said.

“I said leave me alone!” You shouted, immediately regretting your words.

Bellamy nodded and walked away. As soon as he was gone, the tears you had been holding in started to fall. He was right, you really were not fine. ALIE made you torture the people you cared about for not doing what she wanted. You tried so hard to get her out of your head but in The City of Light everything seemed perfect, she made you think that you were helping the others. If you made them hurt you could help take the pain away by giving them a chip. You hurt so many people, including Bellamy who you loved most.

You roughly scrubbed the blood off your hands and arms as if you were also trying to scrub away every bad thing you did. You looked at your reflection in the bucket and saw a disheveled, tear stained mess. There was a bruise on your cheek from where Octavia had hit you after you attacked Bellamy.

“You deserve worse,” you muttered to yourself. You dropped the rag into the water and went back into The Ark. Jasper was at the bar and you decided to join him. He passed you a cup and a bottle of moonshine. You poured some into the cup and drank it quickly grimacing at the burn as it went down.

“Feel better?” Jasper asked.

“Maybe after a few more,” you said, pouring more.

“That's the spirit,” Jasper chuckled. You rolled your eyes but continued to drink.

A few hours later you were still sitting at the bar, Jasper was passed out in a rover and everyone else had gone to bed. You drank the last few drops from the bottle and slammed it on the bar. It shattered and the shards of glass cut your hand.

“Shit,” you hissed in pain.

“Can I help you with that?” You heard Bellamy and whipped around.

“It's nothing, just a cut,” you slurred and attempted to stand up.

“You're drunk and I can see the blood from here. Let me see.” Bellamy said and he walked over to you. You sighed and showed him your hand.

“Let's get you to med bay and I'll bandage you up,” he said and helped you up. He walked you to the med bay with an arm around your waist for support.

The Ark was quiet except for the low thrum of machinery and the occasional metallic clang. Bellamy set you on the edge of one of the beds in med bay and rummaged through medical supplies for some bandages. When he found them, he grabbed a bottle of antiseptic ointment and a clean towel. He gently took your hand and poured some of the ointment on it to clean it. You hissed at the pain.

“Sorry,” Bellamy whispered as he wiped your hand clean with a towel. When your hand was clean, he took a bandage and wrapped it securely around your wounds. You watched his focused expression as he worked. He looked up at you for a moment and you saw there was pain in his eyes too.

“Better?” He asked, quickly looking away. You nodded and pulled your hand from his grip. The feeling of the alcohol in your system was starting to fade along with the lightness it gave you. All your sorrow came crashing back and the tears you tried so hard not to show finally were too much.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, “for yelling at you earlier and for everything else.”

“Hey, look at me,” Bellamy caressed your cheek, “I don't blame you, and I told you before, nothing you did was your fault.”

“I know and I keep telling myself but I just don't believe it,” you said.

“You were not in control, okay y/n? You didn't want to hurt anyone, ALIE forced you to.” Bellamy assured.

“I still did though! I still hurt them! Don't you understand? I hurt them, me!” You cried.

“I do, God, I understand. I had to hurt people too, I've hurt so many people. I know how you're feeling, I had to hurt my friends too and I regret every moment,” Bellamy said, his voice breaking a little, “You will be okay, you just need time.”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks and looked up at him. He was broken too. How foolish you were to think you were the only one that was hurting. He had to fight his people too.

“Bell, I…” you started

“I forgive you,” Bellamy said, “I forgive you, and I still care about you, nothing will change that.”

You blinked in surprise at his words but they made the weight on your heart lighter.

“I- I forgive you too. You were doing what you had to,” you murmur.

Bellamy took a deep breath and just stared at your face. He looked so much older than the boy you talked to in the kitchen on the Ark. There were lines on his forehead and dark circles under his eyes. You reached up and brushed his hair out of those tired eyes. He caught your hand and finally closed the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours and his hand cupped your cheek. You let out a sigh and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was slow and gentle and everything you needed in that moment. You broke away and gazed into Bellamy’s sad brown eyes, this was something you both needed. Someone else's warm touch to take the pain away.

Bellamy let go of your hand and grasped your hips, pulling your body against his. You kissed him again and brushed your fingers through his dark curls. His lips were soft and sweet with a small taste of mint that mixed well with the taste of moonshine still on your tongue. Bellamy let out a low moan against your lips and deepened the kiss. After a few moments he broke away.

“Y/n, we don't have to…” he started.

“Shhh, I want this,” you whispered.

With that, Bellamy grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over her head. You let your head fall to the side as he kissed your exposed skin. When he found the sweet spot on your neck you gasped softly. Bellamy lingered on that spot, sucking a dark purple mark over it and then slowly moved down your chest, between your breasts. You shivered as he kissed one breast and gently massaged the other with his warm hand.

You tugged at his shirt and he stopped just long enough to pull it over his head. He then picked you up and sat on the bed with you straddling his waist. You ground your hips against his and could feel his growing arousal through layers of clothing. Bellamy laced one hand in your hair and the other traced circles over your bare back. Your hands found his belt and you tugged it free, letting it fall with the rest of your clothes on the floor. You climbed off Bellamy long enough for you both to take your pants off and then you pushed him back on the bed and kissed him, trailing your lips down his neck, over his chest to just above his belly button.

“Y/n,” he moaned when your hand dipped into his boxers and grasped his cock.

“Let me make you feel good Bell.” You whispered and stroked his hard length. His hips bucked slightly when your fingers brushed over his tip. He grabbed your wrist and guided you back to his lips, kissing you more passionately than before.

“I want you,” he murmured. You pulled down your panties and he kicked off his boxers. He met your eyes and cursed softly as you lowered yourself onto his cock and let out a gasp at the sensation of him filling you. You waited a moment, adjusting to his size before finally beginning to grind against him.

“So beautiful,” Bellamy moaned as you lifted yourself up and pushed back down onto every glorious inch of his cock. Your movements were small and slow and you could feel the build up in your stomach each time his cock hit that spot inside you. Bellamy gripped your thighs tightly as you rode him.

“Fuck, princess.” He hissed and flipped you on your back. You moaned as he took control and moved at a steady pace, never wavering. You silenced yourself with a hasty kiss and Bellamy cursed against your lips.

“Bell…” you gasped, you were so close.

“Come for me princess.” He said, bucking his hips forward which sent you over the edge. He thrusted a few more times before his own release and let out a string of curses. Both of you were breathing heavily as Bellamy pulled out and settled beside you on the small bed. You leaned over and kissed his cheek before sitting up to pull on your panties and shirt. You tossed Bellamy his boxers and he pulled them on. Bellamy watched you run your fingers through your tangled hair and smiled to himself.

“I love you,” he said. You turned and looked at him in surprise.

“What did you say?” You asked, shocked.

“You heard me y/n, I love you.” He repeated.

“You do?” You asked, frowning.

“I do, ever since I met you that day in the kitchen when you had flour all over yourself and the floor, which I had to clean, by the way.” Bellamy chuckled. You laughed at the memory. You hadn't really laughed in ages, you missed the feeling. Bellamy stared at you again and you leaned down to kiss him.

“I love you too,” you said and lay down next to him again. He wrapped an arm around you and tugged the blanket over both of you. You sighed, not having felt so calm and happy in a long time.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

My requests are open so feel free to send in a character and a prompt and I’ll do my best to write an imagine for you.

- Cacy

#bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake smut #the 100 imagine #the 100 smut #bellamy blake #imagine #imagines #imagines blog #new imagine

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