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hyunsvngs · 1 year

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𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 10.6k words

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses, no use of y/n, sickeningly sweet petnames, ANGST, fluff!!, smut warnings under the cut

synopsis: your childhood best friend, the prince lee felix, is due to be betrothed in an arranged marriage organised by his mother. the problem is, you’re her top choice - and you’re also secretly madly in love with him.

a/n: our first fic on the blog!! if anyone has any questions or any thoughts to share with me please feel free. this fic is my baby and i hope you all enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: dryhumping, use of petnames in bed, no actual sex!!, soft cutie felix except nsfw!!!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd loved Lee Felix since the day you met him.

Of course, your brain had always convinced you that he was unattainable. You weren't without status, so to speak - your mother was famously known as the Queen's lady-in-waiting, and it was through her job that you'd had the pleasure of meeting the two princes, Felix and his elder brother Chris. You and Felix had clicked instantly. You had no other siblings yourself, and your father had died in the army when you were a baby, leaving your mother widowed and you without one of your intended parental figures.

Felix had taken that all in his stride, though. The day he met you he stumbled up to you with the grace of Bambi's first movement on ice, all short chubby limbs flailing everywhere and eyes formed in crescent moons with the size of his smile. Chris had taken less interest in you. Although polite, he was three years older than the both of you and already had his own group of friends, but you and Felix hadn't even started formal education yet - and you were inseparable as soon as you met. You were enchanted by him, he had been your first crush, and your first love once you were old enough to understand what that was.

You began your life as a shy, timid little girl, just as clumsy as your best friend. Your knobbly knees were always bruised and scarred, peeking out from the tops of your white knee socks and covered in whatever bandages Felix could find to wrap around you. Felix had brought you out of your shell, introduced you to some of his other 'friends' - at the start, they were just kids with similar status to him, but they really did form a tight knit group eventually. Now, you were known to always be by the side of Felix and his group, getting up to whatever secret debauchery you could manage that wouldn't risk any of your positions in society. Your mother, thankfully, had turned a blind eye to most of it, and the Queen was always too occupied to notice.

When you were younger, you and Felix loved to go out gallivanting. You'd stumble to the nearest beach, bags of towels and books in your canvas bags and giggle as you threw them on the sand. You had some form of an unofficial book club, just the two of you. You saw him practically all day everyday, but you'd both discussed and had decided to designate a Saturday afternoon to discuss whatever books you'd found in the extensive palace library and you both avoided any and all kinds of book talk on any other day in the week. The beach had become your place to gush over whatever literature had caught your attention, with the calming waves of the sea crashing behind you and the tweeting of whatever birds had made an appearance that day.

Now, though, you were both of age. You were both twenty one, and that meant that marriage was around the corner for Felix. He'd been so busy lately, you'd barely had the chance to see him. You took upon completing mundane tasks of your own, helping your mother with anything the Queen asked for (much to her polite gratitude, but she definitely knew why you were sulking around), and sometimes you even helped the cooks make food for the whole palace. Felix had teased you relentlessly once he'd seen you in your white frilly apron and you'd had to chase him out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon.

It was weird not having your best friend around so much. Chris was already married, being the heir to the throne, despite the fact there were rumours he would abdicate to Felix. Felix hadn't told you anything about that, and you were sure he would have. Even Chris leaving had left a hole in your heart - no more seeing his muscly eye-candy group of friends around. Well, they still showed up uninvited sometimes. You were pretty sure Changbin and Jisung were never actually invited, not even by Chris, but they lingered around him like they were his little brothers, too.

"Hey, you've been making that daisy chain for like, twenty years," A familiar giggle chimed from above you, and you looked up. Ah yes, your Prince. You'd gotten so lost in memories that you'd been wasting a Saturday afternoon with him. Fuck, you're such an idiot. Felix was looking down at you in your position in his lap, your head nestled on top of his crossed legs in the dress slacks he was supposed to wear everyday. He was wearing a white silk shirt on top of it, billowing in the summer breeze, but the top two buttons were still undone due to the heat of the sun. The summer always made your Prince's freckles shine more on his tan skin, the fawn dots even extending to the exposed skin on his chest. Needless to say, you waited impatiently for the hot season to come around every year. His teeth were gleaming in his smile, radiating sunshine and the gleam bouncing off of the bleach blonde mullet he'd managed to convince his mother to let him have.

You had to deflect. He couldn't know you were upset at not seeing him, although you were nearly certain he must have worked it out already. You shrugged dismissively, looking back at the daisy chain in your hands. Your thumbnails were stained with green from the plant stems, but you were still determined to finish it. You were making it for him, as a crown, because you knew he'd keep it until the flowers wilted, and then he'd get the flowers pressed and he'd put them in his scrapbook. He was such a good friend. His scrapbook was full of mementos of the two of you, even sometimes extending to the whole group - you and Felix, your friends, and Chris and his friends. It was mostly full of just the two of you, though.

"Sorry, Lixie. I guess I'm not all there today. Sorry," You mumbled. "What were you saying?"

"I was saying about Rochester and how he's a possessive asshole- no, you know what, that's not important. What's on your mind, sugarplum?" The cheesy nickname worked exactly how he intended it to, making you giggle and your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You nudged his tummy softly with your elbow, the silk brushing against your skin and making goosebumps rise on your arms. Felix dog-eared the page of the book that he was reading from and shut it softly, placing it beside you both. It was one habit of Felix's that you absolutely hated - like, how could he sleep with a clear conscience knowing that he had creased the delicate pages of so many classics? You'd given him so many bookmarks over the years, even personalised ones that you'd crafted in your spare time with both of your names on, but he always lost them or claimed he'd forgotten them in your book club outings. He leaned back on his palms, smiling down at you fondly. You shifted, turning slightly to see him better. You felt the soft cotton of the navy and white plaid picnic blanket brush against the bottom of your bare legs. You weren't really allowed to wear short skirts, or low cut tops, but on a summer's day like this you were permitted to wear a knee length skirt, so long as it was a thick fabric. Nothing too revealing was allowed.

You hummed in response to him, finding him still staring at you. "You want me to be honest, Pixie?"

Felix giggled at his own cheesy nickname, then nodded eagerly, strands of hair falling over his face before he pushed them back. His forehead had a thin sheen of sweat adorning it. "I always want you to be honest with me."

You ignored the butterflies causing a storm in your stomach over the statement. He was so understanding, so sweet - he always had been, like when he would bandage up your scraped knees or comfort you when something went wrong in your favourite TV show. He was even understanding during one of your many nights of debauchery, when you'd all been playing Seven Minutes in Heaven like the horny teenagers you were and you'd been picked to go in with Felix. You'd been bright red, stuttering and giggling nervously about how you'd never had your first kiss and Felix understood, rubbing your arm softly with his dainty hand and insisting you didn't have to do anything that you weren't ready for. You were so embarrassed, but he made you feel so at ease, and you'd both sat in the storage closet and gossiped about Chris instead.

That was the moment you'd fallen in love with him, you think. You were fifteen.

"I'm worried," You admitted, finally letting the flower chain drop from your fingertips and onto your tummy. Felix instantly shot up. His smile had fallen, and he was now looking at you with a concerned look, brushing hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The butterflies started fluttering even faster, if it was possible. You looked up into his brown eyes, and you looked at his freckles, thinking about the many times you'd tried to count every single one. This was your best friend. This was the love of your life. Your Prince, as you affectionately called him in your head. You could be honest with him. If you couldn't, who could you be truthful with? "I'm worried because I know you're getting married soon. We barely see each other as it is anymore, and I miss you, to be honest. It will be soon, won't it?"

Felix hummed. He nodded thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the daisy chain on your tummy. You saw a small smile at the end of his lips as his fingers brushed over it. He knew it was for him. He'd made you many over the years, too, and you'd kept them in your own scrapbook, despite it being much emptier than his. "It will be soon. My mother is picking the right candidate at the moment. But..."

You furrowed your eyebrows. He hadn't looked back at you, still gazing at the daisy chain and beginning to rub reassuring circles on your side. "... But?"

The smile finally formed on his lips. "You do realise you're her top option, right?"

You shot up from his lap, eyes widening. Felix bit his lip, holding in a laugh. He was laughing at you, that bastard, but it did make sense. You were the Queen's favourite, and she knew how close you and Felix were. She wasn't a nasty or a ruthless Queen. She was a people person, she always donated money to charity and the homeless rating in your country was literally almost zero. She'd done so much for people since she was in power, and she never cared about status - not that it had ever affected you, but she did treat everyone as her equals. She was like Felix in that way, a sweetheart, and she always permitted you and Felix to go on journeys wherever you wanted, so long as you kept safe and there was a guard in the area, just in case. There was one in the meadow with you now, but you couldn't even see them from where you were sitting. She was just... so cool, down to earth. She understood what it was like to be young, within reason.

You were flustered. Your brain had instantly gone to thinking of getting married to Felix, spending nights with him but not in the way you used to, and even... Well, you had to consummate the marriage, didn't you? You were extremely inexperienced in that department, save for a few drunken childish kisses with Chris' friend Changbin when you were just a bit younger, but you still found your mind racing and going through your deepest, darkest fantasies. Fantasies that you would never entertain outside of shoving a hand down your underwear in your bed at night and whining into the satin pillows. You had to hide that you were thinking about that, what the fuck is wrong with you? Time to deflect.

"Well, she does love me," You said boldly. Felix shook his head, punching you in the arm, perhaps a bit harder than he meant to because you let out a hiss and punched him back too hard, in the leg. His smile dropped, groaning and grabbing the spot on his shin where you'd hit him. "But, would you be okay with that, Lixie? It's... me. We'd be like... you know."

"Married? Well, yeah," Felix laughed, still holding his leg. You sighed, giving him a flat look. You needed to keep yourself occupied, so you picked up the daisy chain on the blanket and started to fiddle with it again, threading it through with nimble fingers. Felix finally let go of his leg, throwing himself onto his side so he was lying down on the blanket and facing you. He'd started to fiddle with the cover of the book. Another thing you were getting prepared to tell him off about. "I know what you mean. Honestly, though? I can't think of anyone better to do it with," You felt yourself suppressing a smile at his words, said lowly in that deep voice of his. Everytime he said something like that, your brain instantly went to shit, he liked me back, and you couldn't have that showing on your face when you knew deep down that wasn't the truth. He was unattainable- no, wait, now he wasn't that unattainable, now that you've actually stopped being angsty and depressing and actually thought about it. "I mean, you are my best friend, sugarplum."

You let out a fake laugh at his use of that stupid nickname again, and it seemed to placate him. Best friend. Yeah. Because one thing you hadn't thought about during your insane train of thought, one thing you had always considered and had been the main factor in not confessing to him, was that you couldn't risk ruining the friendship you had built up with him for sixteen years.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Unattainable. He was unattainable. You felt yourself mulling over that thought over and over as you paced in your bedchambers, in your silly Disney pyjamas that now barely fit you and you would never let anyone see. You had no one you could even talk to about this. It was clearly royal intel, secret information, and the only person you could have possibly talked to now never comes around anymore because Chris decided to get fucking married and now spends most of his time boning his wife for an heir. Or just because he likes boning her, you weren't sure, but Felix told you that he'd heard enough through the walls to know that boning was definitely occuring every night. Anyway, Changbin wasn't around much anymore, and he was your top confidant - bar Felix.

You liked living in the palace, but would you like living there as a Princess? Well, fuck yeah, obviously. It was like something out of The Princess Diaries, one of your favourite films which you and Felix had watched over and over. He hated it. You had a good, solid reputation. You were a high member of society due to your mother's job, and you and your mother were even placed on the royal side of the palace for your living quarters. You had a massive bedroom, an extravagant en suite with a relaxing bathtub and a sitting room with a huge TV that you and your mother always curled up in front of. How could it even get any better? You had seen Felix's room, when you were younger, but it kind of became unspokenly forbidden when you got to your teenage years, lest something gets out of hand. You understood it, actually. You'd been going through enough hormones to know that you had definitely come dangerously close to propositioning him a few times.

You had propositioned Changbin, obviously. You two had your first kisses together, and also a few drunken kisses, but you'd ended up as just friends. He was probably the only one who knew about your feelings for Felix, and he admitted you weren't his type anyway. You were sure he was in love with Felix's friend, Hyunjin, but you never commented on the way he looked at Hyunjin like he'd hung the stars in the sky. You couldn't really say anything either, knowing full well that you looked at Felix the same.

You needed to speak to Changbin. The unbearable amount of anxiety at not knowing was mounting in you. But it hit you, then, in the middle of your pacing and chewing on your thumbnail. You looked at the copy of Jane Eyre that Felix had given you, placed on your bed. Your mother knew. She had to have known you were a choice, surely, and she hadn't even told you?

You shook your head, resuming pacing. You couldn't blame her. Felix wasn't even meant to tell you. It made sense, though - you'd received pretty much the same education as a royal, and you and Felix were inseparable. You knew you had the etiquette, the social skills (thanks to Felix). You were pretty much a Princess without being a Princess. It had to be you, right?

Did you want it to be you?

You threw yourself onto your bed, wrapping the soft pillow around your head and screaming incoherently into the fabric. It didn't help. Who were the other choices? You thought of other girls who lingered around the palace, ones that had definitely had crushes on your Prince growing up and had given him fleeting glances with blushed cheeks and an agape mouth. None of their names even came to mind. Maybe a Princess from another country, for a marriage of creating alliances? You could see the Queen considering that. She was always very logical, but you also knew she had her son's best interests in mind. Chris had married a Princess from a different Kingdom, actually, but his marriage wasn't even arranged. He'd been in love with her since they were teenagers, and they could only meet once or twice a year in arranged legal meetings. You remember them having perhaps not so quiet dates together. Everyone knew, and when they announced their engagement everyone was happy but not surprised. Felix had taken too long to find a wife, and even the thoughtful Queen couldn't let that slide. People were asking questions, personal questions about his demeanour and whether he was off putting, and she couldn't deflect the questions for much longer.

You hadn't even noticed you'd drifted off, and you woke up to your face still smushed in the pillow. You immediately inhaled sharply upon waking up, taking in the light outside. You'd drooled all over your pillow, leaving a huge wet patch and your hair was knotted every which way, making you look like you'd been dragged backwards down the hedge. Damn. Thinking too hard has taken its toll on you, really.

A knock on the door made you spring up from your bed, smoothing down your hair with one hand, before another three knocks came in succession and you paused your movements. It was yours and your mother's secret knock - one knock, then three quick ones after. She'd seen you in worse states. Much worse states, even hungover states that you'd cried over while she held a bucket to your head and had promised to keep it a secret. You padded over to the door, opening it slightly just to make sure it was in fact, her. It was, obviously. Not even Felix knew your secret knock.

She came in and sat on the big armchair in front of the fire. Neither of you had said anything. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands. She finally looked at you, a kind look on her face.

"I have two things to say," She smiled. You loosened up a bit, realising that it was just your mother. She'd always been stuck by you. It had been only the two of you, after all. It was all you knew. You nodded, rushing over to sit cross legged in front of her like a child. "First of all, the Queen would like to meet with you in an hour. Second of all, you're seriously still wearing those Dumbo pyjamas? The legs aren't even long enough anymore, I can see your knees, they're meant to be trousers not shorts-"

You blinked owlishly. Her rant went in through one ear and out the other, before she realised you weren't listening. She sighed. You blinked again, pulling the ends of your pyjama trousers absentmindedly to try and make them longer. "The Queen... wants to meet with me?"

Your mother nodded. She wasn't giving anything away by her face, but she definitely knew. She knew. She knew what you were going to be told. God, why couldn't she just ignore her job duties for once and be a fucking mother? You chided yourself mentally, she was a great mother. But you were frustrated. You needed to know now, not in an hour!

"Just... just me, and her?" You questioned, cocking your head to the side. Your mother shook her head, fingernails picking at a loose thread on her skirt. She was avoiding eye contact. What the fuck is going on?

Oh God, it's not you, is it? Fuck.

"Felix will be there," Your mother stated. She jumped up sharply. "I'll help you pick an outfit, dear. Come." She beckoned you to the armoire in the corner and you followed dutifully.

Your mother began to flick through pieces of fabric hanging off of hangers, and you tried to ignore the anxiety now mounting again in the pit of your stomach.

You so badly wanted it to be you. Just for once, you wanted to be selfish.

An hour later, on the dot, you stood outside the main hall. It was where everyone - royalty and staff alike - ate food together. That was, again, one of the kind Queen's rules. It was also where her throne was, where she had meetings with people. You'd never been on the receiving end of such a formal meeting, but one of the Queen's maids had come and collected you from your room five minutes before the allocated time. You'd managed to run a brush through your hair, thank God, and your mother had put you in a baby blue pinafore dress that came down to mid-knee on top of a white long sleeved turtleneck. The turtleneck was far too warm for the weather, but you knew the Queen would appreciate the conservative outfit. You stared down at the Mary Jane's on your feet.

You shut your eyes, trying to control your breathing, before realising you really couldn't afford to be late. Maybe you'd fucked up and done something wrong. You raised your hand, knocking softly on the door, but it swung open with the small force of your knock. The Queen sat on her throne, flipping through the pages of a book. Your Prince stood behind her, leaning over the throne, pointing at certain pages and giggling. She was smiling fondly at the pages, rubbing her fingertips over certain ones and mumbling statements to her son. She'd began to age slightly, with wrinkles adorning her eyes and mouth, but she didn't look any less beautiful. She had long, dark hair and freckles, just like Felix, but her smile was as kind as Chris'.

Oh? They seemed happy, at least.

You cleared your throat. The Queen, her Majesty, looked up at you and smiled acknowledgingly, shutting the book on her lap. She beckoned for you to come in and you did a small curtsy before shuffling into the lavish room. You could smell the kitchen from here, and you knew the cooks were whipping up something fierce by the enticing smell of it. You hadn't had time to have breakfast, because you'd slept in, and lunch was still around two hours away. You hoped your stomach wouldn't grumble too loud as you eventually approached the throne.

Felix smiled at you. He was wearing a similar pair of dress slacks to yesterday, but this time his silk shirt was a baby blue, the Kingdom's colours. A silver chain rested on his neck and you took note of the earrings dangling from his ears - another impulse decision you'd both done when you were younger. You know Felix had gotten in trouble for it at first, but the Queen seemed to be buying him a lot of expensive earrings lately. She knew what it was like to be young, after all. You smiled back awkwardly, rubbing your sweaty hands on your pinafore. It was then you realised you were in the Kingdom's colours too. Very patriotic of your mother.

"You want some tea, sugarplum?" Felix's voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you winced at the nickname. In front of his mother? In front of the Queen? Seriously? Your eyes seemed to convey a similar message to him, a flat glare, but he simply giggled. You saw him pouring from a teapot into a dainty teacup, and reverted your eyes to the Queen. She was still looking down at the book in her lap, and you looked down at it in confusion.

It was the scrapbook Felix made for the two of you. It was full of pictures from when you were younger to now, full of cinema tickets from secret outings and full of pressed flowers. Some of your favourite book quotes had even made it into there, scrawled in both of your handwritings. Even your school graduation pictures were in there. You'd been sent to a private school for the upper society, obviously, but you still had a normal graduation - albeit small, and full of snobby people.

"Thank you for meeting me, your Majesty," You were babbling in awkwardness. Oh, God. It was like word vomit, you couldn't stop it. "I'm really glad to meet with you today. I'm just wondering, have I done something wrong? You never ask to meet me."

The Queen laughed, her eyes forming crescent moons exactly the same as Felix's. Felix appeared at your side then, handing you a small teapot with what looked like peach tea in it. Your favourite, because of course, your Prince remembers that. You awkwardly shifted on one foot to the other, taking small sips of the tea to try and cool your nerves and almost screaming because it was still scalding hot. Felix was trying to hold in a laugh beside you, you could tell without even looking at him. Bastard.

"You haven't done anything wrong, sweetheart," The Queen's voice was soft, and she was now looking at you, taking in your outfit. She nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, very sophisticated. I believe I've made the right choice."

Your cheeks burned red. No. Fucking. Way. "T-The right choice? Do you mean...?"

The Queen beckoned over one of her staff members and they scurried over in a similar manner to the way your mother would have done. They placed a box in her hands, a small black velvet box that looked like it could be opened seamlessly. A... ring box? "I apologise, sweetheart. I've kept you in the dark a little bit with all of this. Would you bring her a chair, dear? A comfortable one."

The staff member scuttled over to grab a small chair with a red pillow on top of it and placed it behind you. You looked to your left side, still in shock, and the staff member simply smiled and motioned to the chair. You muttered a thanks in acknowledgement and sat on the pillow. Damn, the chair was comfortable. Felix was still standing, watching you hold your teacup awkwardly in a sweaty hand. He looked like he was about to die of laughter. God, you hated him so much, but you also really didn't. He just loved to tease you.

Maybe he would in bed, too-

"So, as you probably know, our favourite boy hasn't found someone to court yet," The Queen began speaking once you were sat down. Felix groaned, and his mother simply laughed. "Hush, now, sweetheart."

"Mum, you said you wouldn't be mean-"

Their dynamics always amazed you. She took the piss out of him, to put it quite literally, but in such an eloquent manner it could be easily missed as them having a difficult relationship. They didn't. He was a mummy's boy, through and through. It was one of the things you loved about him. You could tell a lot about a man from the way he treated his mother.

"Felix, hush now," She admonished again, but the smile on her face didn't leave. Felix mumbled something and then went back over to the side to fiddle with the teapots. Good, he should feel awkward. You looked at her outfit, beautiful in an ornate sense, pearl clips pinning her long, dark hair up so you could see the freckles on her face that matched your Prince. "I took it upon myself to find Felix a bride. I hope you don't think I'm cruel for doing so, I do have my baby's best interests in mind."

Felix groaned, putting his face in his hands. "'M not a baby-"

"You always will be to me, sweetheart. But it was time to get you courting, to get you married. I couldn't do that when you're always gallivanting discussing books with this one now, could I?" Your cheeks burned. You started to stutter out an apology, but she held up a hand to stop you. "Nonsense, sweetheart. Your friendship is one I've always admired. You're inseparable, and it is lovely to see you both so happy. You know that I value your mother highly, also."

You nodded, grinning. You felt a bit more at ease at the praise. The tea had also cooled down slightly too, so you started to sip it again, ignoring the way Felix was intently watching you with an evil smile to see if you'd burn your tongue again.

"Then, I thought about it. I thought, well, I do value your mother extremely highly, and you've been very helpful as of late. Obviously, that is because this one isn't taking up all of your time again," She nodded her head towards Felix. It was such an informal motion that you laughed in shock, and she giggled, a chiming similar to Felix's laugh that shouldn't have come from a middle aged woman who was literally the top of society. You still weren't completely getting at what she was saying, but you were enjoying the conversation. It was just praise, praise, praise. Amazing. "So, I want to offer you something. I want you to know you can decline, and you and your mother will remain here in your current roles. It would make me very happy, however, if you agreed to marry Felix."

You blinked. Okay, yeah, you kind of knew that's what she was getting at, but still - coming out of her mouth you thought you were going to have a heart attack. Your eyes flitted to Felix, who was simply nodding at you in encouragement, eyes widened. He... what, had he convinced her with that scrapbook? He wanted to marry you? Ugh, he probably just wanted to marry you so he didn't have to marry someone he didn't know. He doesn't even know you like him like that. But... a little part of you wanted to be selfish. You scratch his back by not letting him marry someone he's not close with, and he scratches yours by at least pretending to be in love with you. Could you deal with that, though? The pretending?

You nodded in acknowledgement at what the Queen said, looking at your tea again. The tea leaves were floating around in the liquid, mocking you, as if saying you were so fucking dumb. Of course you were going to say yes. "Um... may I ask, your Majesty, what would happen if I said no?"

You refused to look at Felix. The Queen hummed, looking down at the box in her lap. Oh, that was a ring box, definitely. Funny, in a weird way. "Well, this way, if you got married, you'd be able to spend a lot of time together. You'd see each other a lot. You'd be happy. If you decline... I'd have to find someone else for him to-"

"I'll do it," You grimaced at cutting the Queen off, but you couldn't even bear to think of him with someone else. Instead of chiding you, she beamed from ear to ear, and Felix rushed over to you.

He leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in for a hug. He felt so soft, all silk and soft skin, but you knew what was underneath that shirt. You'd seen it, and now you were definitely going to see everything else. He smelled of lavender and orange blossom, that expensive perfume he's always spraying on himself, but you could smell notes of the flowers in the meadow that were still left on his skin from yesterday.

Okay, yeah, you could get used to this.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't get a proper engagement, but that was alright. You'd been given the ring pretty much straight away after your meeting, and when you'd got back to your room after lunch your mother was still there, but now she was gushing, almost bouncing off the walls.

The ring was beautiful. Even using that adjective felt like an understatement. It was clearly an heirloom, passed through generations. The gem in the middle was blue tourmaline, and whilst it matched the Kingdom's colour it was extremely rare - or so you thought, you weren't sure - and it was surrounded by a cluster of diamonds and placed on a thin gold band. You'd always dreamed of getting engaged, even letting yourself think about getting engaged to Felix sometimes, when you were feeling particularly selfish. You always thought it would happen on the meadow, or on your guys' beach that you'd had less time to go to these days because it was further out. You didn't think you wanted it to be pretty lavish, just you two, so you weren't that angry about just being given the ring and told to prepare for an outing with Felix later on. He was your safe place, and you did want to talk privately about the engagement, so you weren't too angry.

You thought about it a lot, looking down at the gem glinting in the light. Your mother had left, and you were now just sitting at your vanity staring at your own hand. The public knew who you were. They knew you were Prince Felix's best friend, and more than a few people had deemed you two as soulmates, people from a similar status who were bound to fall in love and get married. Now, it just felt very one sided. You knew you were in love with Felix, and you'd agreed to the marriage with little thought, but now you felt a bit anxious. How were you going to pretend not to love him when you had to sleep next to him every night? Or when you had to go on dates with him? The engagement would be formally announced tomorrow, with the outing tonight being specifically for you to wear the ring in the public's eye and for you two to dial up the romance and get people speculating. The engagement party was planned to take place tomorrow night after the announcement, with everyone important there.

It was a beautiful ring. You just weren't sure you could pretend any more. You were sick of pretending to just view him as a friend.

When the night rolled by, you'd dressed in something a bit cosier - not too warm, because the nights weren't getting cold much anymore. You'd switched your pinafore and long sleeve for a thin knitted jumper and some long linen trousers, throwing a long but light jacket on top. You had to look sophisticated, respectful even. You deemed you looked alright after tucking the jumper into the trousers and adorning a belt, and when you swung the door open to your room, Felix was stood there.

He'd also put on a thin jumper in lieu of his thin billowing silk shirts, but he still looked just as good in the blue cable knit staring you in the eyes. He'd even put on a long coat just like yours. It was like you were matching, but you hadn't intended to. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and you swore you'd never seen him look happier, not even when you'd moan in delight eating his homemade brownies or when you'd go sick after eating too many of said brownies because they were too good. His hair was neatly styled, pulled back in a stylish half up-half down ponytail, with a few strands dangling in his face.

"Hey, sugarplum," He spoke, voice low. You groaned, pushing him out of the doorway and leaving the room, shutting the door behind you. He laughed in delight at your annoyance and linked arms with you. It was then you noticed he had a flower in his hand - just one stem, but the meaning was enough to almost make you cry.

"Oh my God, Felix, is that-"

"Baby's breath," He unlinked his arm with you, passing the stem to you. When you two were younger, you'd been entranced by the baby's breath growing in your meadow and you'd both been determined it was the work of fairies. It was too beautiful to be normal, and you and Felix had collected them endlessly until there was basically none left. You called them fairy flowers, and that's sort of where Felix's nickname had come from - your mother had called him Pixie affectionately when he'd revealed that he really thought these flowers were part of a fairy's little garden. He pretended to hate it, but you know he secretly loved it when you called him that. Chris had told you.

"You remembered. We used to call them fairy flowers," You brushed your hand over the flower, grinning at the softness. Felix chuckled, whispering a 'yeah'. He quickly pinched the flower from you again, tucking it behind your ear. You quite literally swooned, smiling up at his own beaming face. It got a bit awkward for you then though, because you couldn't even pretend not to be in love with him now, before you're even married. You found yourself in a state of word vomit again. "Jeez, dial down the PDA, Romeo. We're not even outside yet."

You walked off, leaving Felix trailing after you laughing at your words. "'Jeez'? What are you, a frat boy? You need to stop reading fanfictions, you know," He slung his arm around your waist, leading you out of the palace grounds. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, but you leaned in closer to his touch. Tonight was meant to just be a late night walk, full of holding hands and perhaps acting like normal people getting some street food from a dodgy merchant that would give you a bad tummy for a few days. Once you'd left the ornate gates, with one of the guards waving you both goodbye, you started to walk down the street and into the busier part of town. The palace wasn't too far from the hustle and bustle of the city, because again, the Queen apparently loved to be normal. People came to the palace all the time and took pictures and whatnot, but they were never allowed into the actual building. That was too far, and a danger to security.

You both began to walk, feeling the much cooler breeze blow through your hair and rattle the petals upon your ear. It was a bit ticklish, but he'd put it there, so it was staying there. His arm stayed around your waist, but it was comforting. You'd done stuff like this a million times. You were both extremely affectionate and loved touch anyway, so it wasn't strange. Of course, it felt different. You were engaged to him now. You could like... kiss, and stuff. You felt like a high school girl kicking her legs and twirling her hair over her crush, but you decided you were going to allow it because you were still young, and still yet to have a lot of your firsts with someone.

Once you got to a street where there were a few people milling around, Felix motioned to a wooden bench on the side of the path. Overgrown moss and bushes wrapped around it, but it still looked quite cute. "Wanna sit down here for a bit? I think we should probably have a chat, you know. About everything," When you looked at him, he looked embarrassed for once, strange given his usual brazen nature. You found yourself wanting to comfort him, so you nodded, sitting down on the bench and smoothing your trousers down. He sat next to you, turning to face you on the bench and fiddling with the cuffs of his coat.

"Felix, are you okay about marrying me?" You blurted out. "I mean, I know you probably don't want to marry anyone else, but you won't even get the chance to try to get to know everyone. You're stuck with me."

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. His head snapped up to you. "Um, what the fuck? You're my best friend. I am absolutely okay with getting married to you."

Your chest heaved. You felt reassured, but still not completely relieved. "But... Lixie. We'll have to kiss. And we'll be sharing a bed. You know we have to consummate the marriage, right?"

There was that smirk on his face again. You regretted ever saying anything. "You've been thinking about having sex with me?"

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. You heard Felix chuckling next to you, his shoulders shaking the whole rickety bench. You finally looked up at him, punching him in the leg again. His laughter ceased as he yelped. Good, bastard. "You know what I mean, Lix. We are literally going to have to, or the marriage won't be like, real. Or something, I don't know."

"You do know, you know everything. You're smarter than me," Felix chided you. He sighed, leaning to put his head on your shoulder. "What are you actually worried about? Tell me."

"It's just..." You couldn't say it. But maybe you could, and phrase it differently. A conditional question, to answer the real question inside of you. "What if we fell in love?"

Felix hummed, shutting his eyes softly. "Then everyone would have been right about us."

"Y-You... you wouldn't mind it? What about our friendship?"

He rubbed his cheek against you comfortingly. "It would only be made better, sugarplum," He pulled back, grinning at you. Oh no. That smile meant a Dumb Felix comment was incoming. "Plus, I know you think I'm smoking hot, so-"

"Felix!" You whined. He stuck his tongue out at you cheekily, making you roll your eyes. You turned away from him, staring ahead at a large tree on the other side of the path.

"I mean, we are compatible. Would it be so bad?" He sounded insecure now. You looked at him. His eyes were gleaming from the moonlight, and he did look really nervous. Perhaps... he wants to know if you'd hate him if either of you caught feelings. He wants to know if you think it would ruin your friendship. Honestly? After that conversation, you didn't. You shook your head, smiling softly at him. He stuck his tongue out again, trying to lighten the mood, and you did it back. You both had a fit of giggles afterwards, hitting each other while laughing like you always do.

Then, you saw it. A distinctive flash of a camera behind Felix, towards the end of the path. Oh, yeah, you're meant to be like, loving it up right now. You grabbed Felix's arm, pulling him in.

"Wh- wha-"

You brought his ear to your mouth, looking down at it and whispering. "There's a reporter taking pictures behind you. Don't look, but we should probably be more affectionate."

Felix pulled away, nodding solemnly. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he spoke, then a lightbulb going off. "Kiss me."

"H- Huh?!"

"Or, I'll kiss you, I don't mind. But that would really prove a point, wouldn't it? So caught up in each other that we forget royal etiquette?" He'd leaned back more comfortably on the bench, slinging an arm behind you. His fingertips were dancing up your shoulder as you were turned to face him, faces only inches apart. You licked your lips. He licked his own. The flash appeared again. Oh, the reporter liked that.

"Felix... I don't know-"

"I know it's not your first kiss, sugarplum. Can't back out of kissing me now," You internally groaned at the mention of him knowing what you and Changbin had done. Fuck Changbin, stupid blabbermouth. Felix was smirking, looking at you.

"Fuck it. As long as it won't be awkward?"

"We're gonna have to kiss a lot more, may as well kiss now," He shrugged. You shrugged. He was right. Eventually, you nodded. His fingertips carried on tracing shapes on your shoulder - you managed to make out a flower, a heart, maybe even a cat's head. Or a dog's head, you weren't sure. His other hand went up to your chin, fingertips coming to lift your head up to be closer to him once again. His eyes went to yours, a silent question in those deep brown eyes, and you nodded in response.

With that, you were being kissed by your first love. Your one sided love, to be precise, but you actually couldn't find it in you to care. You didn't even realise the camera flashing repeatedly as you pressed your lips against his, a chaste but open mouthed kiss. His lips were extremely soft, and you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned in to get more. He obliged, hand now going to the back of your head to bring you in further. You whimpered at the dominance the grab showed, and he let out a sharp breath of air through his freckled nose in response. You wanted more, so much more. Your lips pressed against each other over and over, a little messy but you liked it like that. Just as you tried to get your tongue against his, he gently pulled away, with one more small peck to your nose.

You were embarrassed when you realised you'd tried to follow him for more kisses. You quickly avoided eye contact, and Felix elbowed you.

"Look at me!" He whined for attention. Ah yeah, same old Felix. You'd forgotten what he was like in that ten second kiss. He still had issues with wanting to be the centre of attention. You looked at him awkwardly, fists clenched in your sweaty palms. You almost felt bad the beautiful ring had to live there. Once you'd looked at him, his sad face fell and he smirked. "Good, huh?"

"W-Was I... good? I've only ever kissed Changbin," You admitted, grimacing. Felix sat up sharply, putting a hand on your knee. You almost flinched away to try and sedate your own sexual desires, but he would get suspicious.

"Uhhh, yes! It was good, I really enjoyed that. Thank you for doing that for me," Felix comforted. When you nodded in response, he grabbed your chin again and placed another peck on your lips. "I... honestly? I kind of wouldn't mind kissing you again."

The boy's boldness shocked you everyday, and you'd known him for sixteen years. "For... for practice, right? When we're married, we're gonna have to do it loads, so-"

"Yeah, yeah, one hundred percent. For practice," Felix agreed. He was nodding eagerly. He suddenly shifted, looking down at the watch on his wrist. "Aw, shit. We should probably head back. Wanna watch a film in your room when we get back?"

You grinned. Back to the same old. This was better, though now you knew you'd be thinking about being on your back with him on top of you making out while you were watching a film. Quickly, you realised something. "That will look so sus though, now that we're engaged."

"We'll keep it a secret," He wiggled, elbowing you. You found yourself laughing, jumping up to walk back to the palace. You held your outstretched hand to him.

"Your majesty?"

"Ah, yes, my fine maiden," Felix giggled, sliding off the bench to grab your hand. You both started to walk to the edge of the path, skipping along as if you had no cares in the world. You heard rustling, probably the sounds of the reporter leaving.

You hoped you'd done okay. You hoped you'd made it believable. Well, you probably had, given your actual feelings - but had Felix?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You'd woken up the next day with a piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead and another person snoring next to you. You blinked yourself awake drearily, leaning up on your palms and looking around your room. Your TV had turned onto standby, and you looked to your right. Felix was in your room. Felix was in your bed. You'd- oh, no. You'd totally just fallen asleep watching a movie, nevermind. Totally fine.

No, actually. Totally not fine!

You shrieked, grabbing Felix's slender waist and wiggling him awake. He'd borrowed a pair of your more comfortable clothes and the t-shirt had been just a bit too small, riding up with every move and now exposing nearly his whole tummy. You tried to ignore it, continuing to shake him awake. The piece of popcorn stuck to your forehead fell onto the bed with an unceremonious noise and you groaned. Eventually, after what felt like hours of shaking your best friend, he opened his eyes and gave you a wide smile, pulling you in for a cuddle. You ignored how lovely it felt and tried to get him to regain consciousness and morality.

"Felix."

"Hmm?"

"You are in my bed."

"I know, dummy- Oh." Felix shot up, nearly sending you flying off the bed. His hand landed on the piece of popcorn, crumbling it into your pristine white sheets. You tried not to cry. His eyes widened, staring at you. "What's the- have you checked your phone? What's the time?"

You shook your head, reaching over to grab your phone. You seldom went on your phone, preferring to read and spend time with Felix, but you had it in case of emergencies and also sometimes for TikTok, but you'd never admit that. You blinked. 11am.

You'd missed breakfast, but you also had zero missed calls or texts on your phone. No one had woken you? Weird. You flipped the screen to show Felix, and he leaned in closer. You were brandishing your wallpaper of the two of you on the beach last summer, but you didn't care. He grabbed your phone, entered your passcode and clicked on the phone app.

"No one even tried to wake us?" He asked. You shook your head. He laid back down, seeming weirdly reassured. You didn't question it, slinking up next to him and putting your head on his shoulder. He moved his arm accordingly, pulling you into his chest and still clicking random buttons on your phone. Eventually, he landed on the search tab, and typed in 'news'. Oh, shit. Was it announced?

Yep. In blaring headlines, multiple news media sources were now releasing reports with every single detail of the story, including pictures of the two of you last night. The titles were all similar, going along the lines of "the sweet Prince and beloved best friend confirmed to be engaged!" or "sophisticated best friend and the lovely Prince taking a romantic late night stroll!". You scoffed, clicking on one and scrolling down. The pictures were cute, to be honest. Some even showed the two of you laughing and hitting each other last night, or you two walking home hand in hand and skipping as if you were kids. One picture, however, is what stuck with you. It was the two of you mid-kiss, Felix's hand on the back of your head and his other holding your shoulder, keeping you in place. It was fucking hot.

"Damn, we look good, you know?" Felix mused, zooming in on the picture. You hummed. You did, you couldn't deny that. "My mum was so real for thinking of us getting married. Like, we totally look good together. Imagine our kids."

Imagine what we'll do to make kids, you thought, but you bit your tongue. You giggled, slapping Felix's chest playfully, then a thought came into your stupid lizard brain. "Hey, Lix?"

"Yeah?" He was still scrolling through an article, laughing at some of the sentences. Everyone loved the two of you, but a few were jealous that you'd managed to snag him. Good.

"Did you mean what you said last night? About practice?" Felix's thumb stopped on the screen. His eyes darted to you, his hair still mussed from sleep. He just stared at you, and you lost your nerve. "Sorry. Weird thing to say. I was just wondering-"

"No, not weird. I meant it. You wanna make out? For practice?" Felix locked your phone, chucking it to the end of the bed. You didn't have time to scold him for throwing your things around like that before his hand was carding in your hair, fingertips scratching at your scalp. God, you loved it when he did that. Your eyes shut in bliss. You totally forgot what he asked. "Hey, earth to sugarplum."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure. For practice."

Okay, so you were totally being super selfish. But, you were going to be having sex with him soon. You could do a little making out to prepare, right? You were just a woman, after all. Nothing wrong with that. His fingers gripped your hair with a different intensity then, pulling at the strands slightly, and you choked back a whine. You opened your eyes, looking up at him.

He hummed, looking at you. He tilted his head to the side, thinking. "Maybe... yeah," He grabbed your arm, pulling you over him. He positioned you exactly how he wanted you, on top of him, straddling his hips. His dainty hands went to your waist, rubbing circles. "Yeah, like this. For practice."

"For practice," You agreed solemnly. You were beginning to think that maybe it wasn't for practice. Maybe he just wanted to. He scooted up, leaning up against the pillows so he was sat up and you were sat on top of him. You tried to ignore the fact that you could feel what was going on between his legs through your thin sleep shorts. You couldn't get too wound up during this, just in case it was just for practice. Knotting your hands into the fabric of his - your - white t-shirt, you leaned down, brushing your nose with his. You were being selfish, but bold, but mostly selfish.

Felix's eyes flitted down to your lips, leaning up to place a soft kiss there. You smiled softly, and he returned yours with a smile that could only be described as filled with fondness. You bit your lip, noticing the way his eyes honed in on your teeth and perhaps his grip tightened on your hips just a bit, but he'd always deny it.

"Lixie." You muttered. You were too shy. He knew exactly what you meant, and raised one hand up to grab at the back of your head. He brought your lips to his, attaching his mouth to yours in a way that was completely different from yesterday. Yesterday was for show, but this seemed personal, hungry almost. You decided you were going to take what you could get. You pressed your lips to his harder, making him choke out a noise of surprise. It was messy, again, open mouthed kisses that were nothing akin to precise or experienced, but you could get to know each other, get to know what you liked. Right at that moment, all you knew was that you liked him, and you would be so pissed off if he didn't let you get your tongue in his mouth like he did last night.

Your hands went up to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues brushed against each other, and you whined, hips kicking up just slightly before you managed to stop yourself. He grabbed your hips, flipping you over so he was on top of you, not breaking the kiss. His lips kept brushing against yours as his tongue entered your mouth, groaning at the feeling. You couldn't stop breathing heavily through your nose, your hands roaming up his back and landing on his hair, pulling him down to kiss you harder. Your lips felt bruised, swollen, but you never wanted to stop kissing him.

With that thought, he bit your lip, pulling away and letting it release against your teeth. You squirmed, licking your lips excessively to try and stop them feeling so swollen. Felix looked debauched, his hair even more tangled and his lips just as red and swollen as yours. His eyes were dark, staring down at you.

"Baby. Bestie. I'm sorry, but I'm- I'm sorry..." He whispered, his head going to the crook of your neck to place soothing kisses there. He was breathing heavily, shifting ever so slightly on top of you. You felt it then, what he was apologising for. His length was rock hard, the shaft pressing into your core and giving you just the slightest bit of stimulation. "'M so fucking hard, sugarplum, I'm sorry."

"I-It's okay, Lixie. I think I'm... I'm wet, too," You whispered, and he threw his head back, groaning. "Practice makes perfect, y'know. We can keep making out." Felix nodded eagerly, and he grabbed your thighs, linking them around his hips. He ducked to place a few more kisses on your neck, biting a little at the area where your throat met your jaw. You let out a moan, neck bearing to the opposite side to give him full access and he clearly approved, biting harder.

"Baby, c-can I just," He ground his hips into yours, groaning and stuttering his words out. He immediately stopped, looking down at you. "Can I? I can make us both feel good, no sex. We can just grind a little on eachother. I won't put it in, I promise-"

With that, a knock on the door interrupted you both. You were fully prepared to start swinging at whoever was on the other end. Felix looked like he was about to die, cheeks flushed and hair tangled every which way. You both stared at each other in disbelief. Okay, so you had kind of really lost yourself there, and now somebody is at the door while the nation's favourite Prince is currently on top of you grinding into you with full intent to cum. You'd only just announced your engagement. You could've got pregnant before you even got married. Jesus, what is wrong with you? You sighed, moving to sit up, and Felix moved off of you. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

"I should... fuck, Felix, what do we do?" You knew you both looked the image of lust, lips kiss bitten and swollen and hair everywhere. You could even feel the wet patch in your sleep shorts. Shit, okay.

Felix looked to be holding back a laugh. You felt terrified, but you almost laughed too, in pure disbelief. You both covered your mouths before you shot off the bed, slipping your shorts off your legs and replacing them with a pair of longer trousers from your drawer. You honestly couldn't care less if he'd seen you in your underwear, you'd bathed together when you were younger. You motioned to the en suite dramatically and Felix ran in there instantly, still giggling quietly, locking the door behind him. You shook your head fondly as another knock was firmly punched against the door. Jesus, couldn't even give you a second?

"Coming!" You called, walking over to the door and trying your best to fake yawn loudly so they thought you'd just woken up. When you opened the door, Chris stood there, a happy smile on his face.

"Okay, I'm so coming in! Why didn't you tell me you and Felix are serious now?" He pushed you back into the room, throwing himself onto your bed dramatically. It was quite funny, seeing him lying on the bed you'd just accosted his brother on. He was resting against the messy sheets in a perfect suit and tie. You shook your head, letting out a laugh.

"Okay, we're not. It's an arranged thing, Chris. We're still only best friends," You chose your words wisely, fiddling with the drawstring on your trousers. Chris hummed, giving you a strange look. Changbin. Fucking Changbin, he'd definitely said something. God. "And, why didn't you ask your own brother this? I'm simply an accessory."

"Because my own brother is currently locked inside your bathroom pretending he's not there?" Chris replied instantly. Your eyes widened.

"No, he's not. Why would you even think-"

"Okay, well. I know he is, so," Chris shrugged. You sighed.

"Felix, you can come out," You said. The lock slowly clicked open and Felix emerged, looking sheepish. Thank God the shock of Chris arriving had made his boner go down, so now he didn't look too lustful. He'd also clearly ran your brush through his hair before coming out. You couldn't say the same for yourself.

Felix threw himself down on the bed next to you and Chris, groaning and stretching his limbs. "Did anyone ask where we were?"

Chris chuckled. He fiddled with the wedding band on his left hand. "Yep. I made up an excuse, said you'd gone out for a walk again and were getting food out. I had a feeling you'd both be spending the night together. Princess Diaries again?"

You shook your head. "Nope. It's too real now."

"Mind you, I don't think there was this much 'practising' going on between Mia and her potential husband in the second one," Chris looked up from his hand. You averted your eyes.

"Dunno what you mean-"

"How much did you hear, what the fuck?!" Felix shrieked. Oh, great, thanks.

"I mean, the walls are thin, dude. I heard a lot on my way down the corridor. But, I'm glad you two are having fun with it, at least. Arranged marriages can be shit sometimes," Chris stretched similarly to Felix, before reaching down and clapping Felix on his back harshly. Felix groaned, throwing himself around the bed in protest. "Anyway, I should be off now. Congratulations again, guys. You should probably get ready for the party tonight though."

Chris began to walk out of the room, and Felix stood up.

"I should... go. With him. You know?" You nodded in response to his statement. He waited until Chris had rounded the corner, and leaned down, pressing a swift peck to your lips. You squeaked in surprise, cheeks burning crimson. He giggled, giving you a sweet wave and running off. "See you later, bestie!"

You wondered if you’d ever be permitted to drop the bestie, maybe once you’re married to him, but it couldn’t come soon enough. You wanted to let yourself be selfish just this once.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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earlgreyinpajamas · 1 year

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merthur fic recs masterlist

last updated: 21 Sept 2024

authors

vintagelilacs

aus and fusions

arranged marriage au, pt 2, pt 3

college/university au

different first meeting au

hanahaki au, pt 2, pt 3

high school au, pt 2

hogwarts au

modern au, pt 2

modern with magic au, pt 2

modern royalty au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pride and prejudice au

regency au

social media au, pt 2

soulmate au, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

s2e10 fix it

wing fic

arthur

actor!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

bond girl!arthur

detective!arthur

himbo!arthur

jealous!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

pining!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9

pregnant!arthur

protective!arthur, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7

oblivious!arthur, pt 2, pt 3

spy!arthur

virgin!arthur

merlin

assistant!merlin

bamf!merlin

consort!merlin, pt 2, pt 3

detective!merlin

druid leader!merlin

enchanted!merlin

exhausted!merlin, pt 2

flustered!merlin

hurt!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

irish!merlin

jealous!merlin

knight!merlin

oblivious!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

pining!merlin, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

royal!merlin, pt 2

selkie!merlin

spy!merlin

virgin!merlin

other tropes and categories

00q fusion

5 + 1 things, pt 2, pt 3

accidental marriage

amnesia

angst with a happy ending

arthur courts merlin

arthur finds out about balinor

arthur finds out about freya

arthur knows about merlin’s magic

arthur loves merlin’s magic eyes

arthur’s donkey ears

arthur returns, pt 2

balinor lives

bathing

bed sharing, pt 2

bedside vigils

bets

comfort fics

coming out

crack, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

dragon dads

drunkenness

enemies to lovers

fake/pretend relationship, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5

fandom iconic fics

fav aus

fav fics

figure skating

flowers, pt 2

fluff

forced proximity, pt 2

fuck or die

getting back together

getting together, pt 2, pt 3

getting together with the help of technology

hurt comfort

hurt no comfort, pt 2

hypothermia

kid fics, pt 2

kinktober

love spells and potions, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

lovers to enemies

magical exhaustion

magic reveal, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10

married/engaged merthur

meddling knights, pt 2, pt 3

merlin dies

merlin goes insane to get arthur back

merlin knows about arthur’s pining

merlin leaves camelot

merlin sleeping in weird places

merlin teaches arthur about sex/kissing

morgana and merlin friendship

not actually unrequited love

ot4

outsider pov

parties

protective!knights

remixes

role reversal

royal balls

scar reveal

secret relationship, pt 2

theatre/drama

time travel

truth potion

underappreciated fics

weddings

wedding stopping

wound cleaning

#merthur #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fluff #merthur fic rec #merlin emrys #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merthur fic recs #pining!Merlin #pining arthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #Arthur Pendragon

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comatosebunny09 · 8 months

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Stuck on this royalty AU in which you’ve rejected King Astarion’s advances too many times.

You’ve been his bodyguard for years. One of the few people who’s seen the man beneath the crown, stripped bare and bleeding. Naturally, you both grew to care for each other more than a king and subject should.

Astarion’s come dangerously close to confessing his feelings for you. But you’ve always staved him off, believing you’re unfit to be anything more than one who serves him. Never his equal.

Cue you sabotaging your budding romance by suggesting he pursue people of his caliber.

He humors you if only to make you jealous. Even the maids know how this man pines for you.

One day, he takes the hand of a beautiful young woman to tour his garden, whispering things into her ear to make her giggle. He perches a hand at the small of her back. Smiles in that charming, boyish way that he typically reserves for you. He puts on a show just for you, his gaze often flitting over his shoulder because he knows you’re following dutifully behind.

Try as you might to mask your ire, he can practically hear the gears whirring in your head. You’re so blinded by your jealousy that you go stumbling into a pond. How comical a sight you pose, the king’s professional and stone-faced guard dog, sputtering and flailing about like a wet cat.

You’re mortified as his servants scramble to get you out, your cape and armor waterlogged. Astarion instinctively moves to assist, wriggling out of the young woman’s hold. You lock eyes with your king as he reaches for you. Over his shoulder, you watch his guest stifle a giggle behind her gloved hand.

Your heart plummets into your stomach. You could only hope to be someone as beautiful and titillating. The king deserves someone cut from a similar cloth as him, not a lowly dog with calluses on their hands and scars littering their body.

You dismiss yourself with a curt bow, your dignity bruised, your eyes burning with the threat of tears. Hardly notice Astarion briskly excusing himself from his guest to follow you.

You stomp into the servant’s quarters, a few maids scuttling about with towels to dry you off. You’re so embarrassed you don’t even have the voice to tell them you can do it yourself. Astarion cautiously wanders in, quietly dismissing the maids to fetch you a change of uniform.

You can’t meet his eye as he kneels before you, trying vainly to hide his smile whilst he towels you off.

“I’m not even sure what you’re jealous of. You’re the one who told me to move on, remember?” the king softly scolds.

You scoff. “Jealous? Me?”

Astarion gives you a deadpan look. “Darling, you practically drowned yourself trying to get an earful of our conversation.”

“Did not.”

“Right. I suppose the pond stepped into your way, then?”

Another scoff accompanied by heat blooming into your cheeks.

“Come now, darling. As lovely as you are, green just isn’t your color.”

You cut your eyes at him in warning, to which he chuckles something deep and alluring.

Astarion pats your knee, standing to his full height. He offers you his hand, insisting you take it with a look after you refuse him. He pulls you to him, uncaring if his doublet gets wet, pilfering the breath from your lungs.

The king gazes down at you with all the tenderness of the world, his hand splayed at the small of your back. The proximity of your body causes your mind to whirl and your lips to part with a gasp.

“Let’s get you changed, hmm?”

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth. “What about your date, Majesty?”

Astarion shrugs, rolling his eyes dismissively. “I’m sure she’ll find someone else to occupy her time. I’ve more…important matters to attend to,” he says, his gaze simmering like a low flame.

He ushers you into the hallway, steering you towards his room to get you cleaned up. A luxury only you know, no one else having been allowed to see his room as often as you have.

You shiver, still soaked to the bone. Astarion tucks you close into his side, rubbing your arm to ward off the chill. You smile triumphantly quietly, knowing you’re the only person he’s touched like this in years.

#astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #royalty au #let me dream #king!astarion #astarion romance #astarion fluff #astarion imagine

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snootlestheangel · 3 months

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Royal Ghoap AU idea

Soap grows up as Prince, his family is royalty blah blah blah

Simon Riley is in the poor part of the city, which under Soap's father's rule, becomes the recruitment for Knights. It's a program designed to take the youth and prevent them from falling into criminal traps and becoming responsible people. It helps the families. Simon is recruited at a much younger age than most with the intention that he grows up alongside the only son of the King (ie Soap)

He and Soap grow up together, slowly falling in love by the time Simon is a full fledged Knight and they're adults.

Roba is the leader of a gang of criminals that burn the part of the city where Simon is from. The Riley family dies in the fire, and it is presumed that so does Simon, because he had fled the safety of the castle to save his family.

While in the castle before all of this, he had been courting Soap, only for Soap to express concerns that if they let their relationship develop into something more, that the people would say things. Basically Soap rejects Simon's physical advances (cock blocked)

Soap: I'm afraid of what they'll say of you, mo chridhe

Simon: let them talk, so long as I have you, nothing can harm me.

Soap lives for several years thinking that he could have had Simon and yet threw it all away.

Eventually his parents are mysteriously assassinated, and he, along with the King's Guards Price and Gaz, travel far as they follow a series of clues that will lead them to the assassin.

Along the way, they encounter The Ghost, a famed assassin with over a hundred assassinations credited to his name. Ghost is believed to have served under Roba.

There are two major ways I want to approach this.

The first way:

He reveals Roba is behind Soap's parents' assassinations, and tells them his plans to murder Roba himself. Price warns Soap not to trust him, but Soap can't help but feel the phantom is familiar.

One night, slipping away from the watchful eyes of Price and Gaz, Ghost enters Soap's private tent

They have a conversation where Ghost basically begs for forgiveness and Soap is confused and then he drops it, only for Soap to ask him if they know each other. Ghost doesn't directly respond, but Soap thinks it means he's uncomfortable because they don't. However, Simon quickly says "you look good as King, Johnny" not long after Soap falls quiet

Soap turns and then whispers his name. Begs him to take the mask off, asking how Roba has hurt him, etc. Simon eventually takes it off to reveal a very scarred face. Soap touches his face and the scars with tears in his eyes. Simon thinks it's because he's now ugly or not worthy of Soap's love anymore. But Soap finds him still as loveable as ever.

"I see scars. Which means you survived, and you healed, and you live to fight another day. Which means you're here, you're alive, and I finally have another chance to keep you."

"Will you let me have you? Even if just for tonight?"

"Of course. Only if you'll let me have you."

"I trust no other soul."

They get together (obviously) and then Idk where to go from here

The second way:

Soap catches word that Roba has been finally captured in a neighboring kingdom, so he brings Price and Gaz with him. The king of this place is Alejandro, with his partner Rudy, and they are joined by Shadow Company who captured Roba.

They are in the royal hall when Ghost manages to kill his way inside, where he uses his weapons to hold Rudy hostage.

His weapons in question are bladed: two large scythes that can cut from both sides (within the curve and outside), making them versatile and intimidating. Truly a character of Death

Alejandro makes a trade: Roba for Rudy. Everyone expects Ghost to leave with Roba, but instead he attacks him and kills him, kneeling back once the deed is done.

Alejandro asks "if you were not loyal to Roba, then who do you pledge to?" Because it's commonly accepted that assassins aren't solo: they have someone that pays them and provides what they need. Ghost stands, slowly makes his way towards Soap, and raises his weapons.

He proceeds to immediately drop them and uses the Royal Guard salute to show his loyalty to Soap. The salute is used in private by Knights/Guards to the crown/royal family. Only Soap, Gaz, and Price would know this, everyone else would be confused as to what that means.

Graves and a couple Shadows quickly attack Ghost and take him into custody. He keeps eye contact with Soap the entire time, Soap is shitting his pants cause how the fuck does THE GHOST know the private salute????? And why would he say he's loyal to me??? What the fuck???????

While Soap is freaking out, the others are trying to figure out Ghost's plans and blah blah blah. He's not giving anything away.

But Soap suddenly appears, saying that he should ask the questions privately because Ghost pledged his loyalty to him. They're upset Soap is in the room, to which Price, out of breath just goes "he's slippery"

They agree and let Soap "interrogate" Ghost.

Soap asks how he knew the salute. Ghost doesn't answer.

Soap asks why he suddenly pledged loyalty to him.

"To save yourself?"

"No."

"No?"

"Cannot suddenly pledge to something you are already pledged to."

Soap is now confused and he's starting to get a weird feeling. He can't think of something to say, he's so confused. Ghost begins to look at him with the saddest, most emotional look he can despite the mask.

"You look good as King, Johnny."

Don't know where to go with this one as well but I'm definitely partial to the second way.

Anyways what y'all think?

#simon ghost riley #soapghost #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #royal au #royal ghoap au #cod au idea #cod au

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irisintheafterglow · 3 months

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HAND SIX - FLUSH

summary: in a season where you're determined to fly under the radar, newly-returned crown prince!touya todoroki has other ideas. in this hand, a suitor sneaks you out and desire rears its head.

wc: 2.7k

cw/tags: royalty!au/regency!au, fem!reader (she/her used), explicit language, joking death threats (reader gets salty during poker), league of villains found family cameos, emotionally constipated touya todoroki, a lil steamy toward the end wink wink

note: trying to write a poker game where you have to imagine the hands of two different players is,,,,challenging to say the least. but stick around until the end of this part for a welcome surprise :)) hope you like it!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“You said you wanted to be my friend.”

“I wasn’t aware that meant sneaking out of my house!” Your hushed anger is lost among the gentle breeze of the branches outside your window. Your suitor and self-proclaimed ‘friend’ has perched himself on one of the heftier arms of the oak, rapping his knuckles against your window until you appeared. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I can’t say I do; I have regrettably left my pocket watch at home,” he says with a poorly-hidden smirk. He frowns at your insistent glare and glances over your shoulder expectantly. “Well? Are you coming or not?” You abruptly shut the window, pulling the curtains shut and leaning against the dusty fabric. Your hand finds its way over your pounding heart and you hope none of the commotion Touya caused has awoken anyone else in the house. More taps against the glass make you slide one curtain to the side to reveal Touya yawning. Catching your incredulous expression, he merely winks before dropping backward into the darkness, disappearing among the nighttime shadows of the garden.

“Idiot. I’m being courted by an idiot,” you say to your stale bedroom. By a stroke of curiosity or plain irritation, you tug your sleeping clothes over your head and step into the pair of trousers you’d pilfered from your father’s drawers. A few minutes later, with your boots slipped carefully over your feet and a hood drawn over your face, you find Touya lurking next to the magnolias. “Care to enlighten me as to the terms of my current abduction?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he scoffs with a small smile. Touya’s smiles were few and far between, and you’d noticed he only seemed to smile so fondly when he was with you. “Hurry up, you’ll fall behind at the rate you’re moving.” You bite back a shrewd remark about your hastily-donned attire. Still, none of his words land as insults as he offers you his arm and, when you take it, skillfully navigates you between back alleyways and shortcuts.

“Where are we going?”

“Home,” he replies, eyes watchful as ever.

“The palace?”

“Not exactly.” He guides you through the creaking door of an abandoned textiles warehouse.

“As much as they despise my decisions during this season, my parents would be less than delighted if I turned up dead in a warehouse,” you comment as your suitor leaves you momentarily, fishing around in the darkness for a match and lighting a candle. The space itself is huge, an extensive balcony for a foreman running around the perimeter of the high windows, but the area Touya occupies is quaint enough to be homey. “Is this where you–”

“Hide?”

“I was searching for a different word,” you admit, “but that works to the same effect.” A small bedroll sits haphazardly in a corner, along with a pile of scrappy blankets and small pillows. The main event of the space, however, was the large work table where the single candle sat, the old wood covered in vials of various powders and solutions. You take a cautious step toward the table that was probably once used for cutting fabric, now littered with excess scraps of leather and tools. “What do you make with this stuff?”

“Salves, mostly, for the…you know.” His voice trails off and you nod when he gestures to the scar tissue on his cheeks. “A friend needed me to make some smoke bombs and I had the materials, so I started doing that too. Now, I just make whatever comes to mind.”

“These are where you find the formulas?” You flip through the pages of a thick, dust-covered volume about chemistry and eye another about something called pyrolyzing.

“Mostly,” he shrugs. “The rest of the time, I just put stuff together and hope it works.”

“That’s dangerous, Touya.” He shrugs again, fiddling with a wrench and adjusting the placement of a test tube.

“It’s alright. It’s why I do all this stuff here and not in the palace.”

“And also why I keep needing to buy this dumbass new warehouses,” calls a new voice from a corner of the large room. Touya snorts and rolls his eyes, peering at you with amusement when you unconsciously move to shield yourself behind him. “Don’t be afraid; if I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it out of your garden.” You stiffen beside Touya, who sends you a half-sympathetic look.

“Tomura, stop. You’re scaring her,” he states as the stranger, Tomura, steps into the light, a dry face hidden by long white hair spilling over a blood red cape. “Ignore him,” he mutters to you when you flinch as Tomura steps closer to the table. “If anyone actually wanted you dead, I’d roast them alive before they could breathe in your direction.”

“How romantic,” you deadpan and Touya chuckles. “He’s a friend of yours?”

“I’d say ‘working relationship’ at best,” he corrects and you let out a shaky breath, his quiet confidence overriding any unease caused by the weird man across the table. “Himiko here?”

“I was waiting for you to introduce me!” From another corner of the warehouse remarks a higher pitched, jubilant voice. A young girl with blonde hair tied in two buns swings down from the balcony, dancing over to you and shaking your hand with excitement. She’s short, but beams up at you so kindly, you’re taken aback by the contrast between her and Tomura. “Toga Himiko,” she states brightly. “You’re even prettier than Dabi described!”

“Dabi?” You glance at Touya, your confusion obvious. You can tell his walls are struggling to come down and you inch closer to him in an effort to sink them further, questions still rattling about in your brain. “Is that your alter ego?”

“Alter ego implies that Dabi and Touya are two different people,” he explains after an awkward pause. “But I think they’re one in the same.” You nod in understanding, not pushing the subject further even when he continues anyway. “These guys,” he gestures to the various figures approaching you at the worktable, “know me as the former. You have the privilege of knowing me as the latter.”

“And now you’re letting me know both,” you finish for him. He smiles softly again and hums quietly, grateful that you understand what he’s trying to do.

“Attagirl.”

“Thank you for letting me in,” you murmur. You stare into his burning blue eyes for a second longer before he turns away, clearing his throat.

“You’re not done quite yet. It’s poker night and I still haven’t introduced you to everyone else.”

Once the worktable is cleared and half a dozen wobbly stools are dragged over to it, Touya pulls a deck of cards from a hidden drawer. Tomura mirrors him, retrieving a box of chips and tossing it on the table. Toga sits to your right and Touya stays stationed on your left, occasionally letting his hand cover yours whenever you drummed the table anxiously. Even with his so-called ‘acquaintances’ causing chaos across the table, his focus only ever stayed on you.

During one of the last hands, you’re dealt an eight and a six of clubs. With a mediocre stack of chips and a sudden urge to challenge Touya, you push in a third of your stack after the initial dealing reveals a seven of clubs, a seven of spades, and a ten of clubs. With four out of five to make a straight flush, your odds were looking good and you prayed for a nine or a five of any suit.

You have to stop yourself from laughing when a five of hearts and a nine of spades is dealt. As nice as it would have been to have a straight flush, your odds with the straight weren’t terrible.

“Ah, shit. I’m out.” Tomura folds, sliding his cards to the middle of the table. “It must be an off night for me.”

“Yeah, me too,” Himiko pouts and follows suit, along with energetic Jin and stoic Shuichi. “Tonight sucks.”

“Whoever has the six and the eight will most likely win.” Shuichi is glum at the other end of the table after folding almost every hand so far. Himiko gives you a thumbs up and whispers loud enough that the whole group can hear.

“I’m rooting for you!” You give her an uneasy smile.

“It’s down to you two.” Kurogiri sits shrouded in the darkest corner of the table. You shiver and peek at Touya from the corner of your eye to find that he’s already looking at you, no doubt trying to read you. His unnaturally white hair catches in the moonlight streaming through the high windows, painting him like a portrait that would hang on the palace’s walls. There was an intensity to Touya’s expression that you found yourself wanting to push against, even when your current cards certainly gave no guarantees. You push all of your chips to the center without breaking eye contact and he smirks, copying you.

“Alright, reveal,” Tomura commands and you put your two cards down, a chorus of ooh and damn and I fucking knew it resounding around the table. Your straight put you in a relatively good spot, considering how the other hands of the night had progressed.

“Bold move, doll,” Touya drawls, running his tongue over his top lip. “But…” he says, laying down his two cards and grinning when your jaw drops to the floor. “That’s the one you were looking for, yeah?” You gape at the three of hearts and nine of clubs. The card that you needed to make your perfect hand was in Touya’s the entire time.

“Oh, you’re such an asshole. You are the biggest asshole to ever exist,” you groan and he scoops all of your chips into his pile with a self-satisfied grin.

“See, she gets it!” Everyone voices their assent in playfully bitter grumbles, muttering accusations of rigging the game and marking the cards beforehand.

“I am going to hide your body so far that your cells will never see the light of day again.” You point an accusatory finger at your suitor, who raises his palms in prideful surrender. “I hope you’re ready to feed the worms with your decaying flesh.”

“Yes, you fit in just fine here,” Tomura nods in approval.

“Don’t hate the players; hate the game,” Touya shrugs. Your continued threats are lost among the raucous laughter that echoes off the rafters of the warehouse. He gives himself the indulgence of looking at you, really looking at you. You were here, cackling with his friends like you’d known them longer than he had. He’d allowed you into his most sacred of spaces and you treated it with the same care you treated him. In the dim candlelight of the building with its rotten wood and blood-stained floors, you were still the same as ever.

Touya stares at you like you’d never looked more beautiful.

—

“I believe I’ve found a more entertaining poker opponent than you,” you remark slyly on the leisurely walk back to your part of the city. Clumps of stars peek out among the summer clouds, winking at you like the constellations holding secrets you couldn’t possibly fathom. Touya hasn’t stopped looking at you since the hand you nearly won, something you find is stirring a fluttering feeling in your chest.

“Have you, now? And who, pray tell, would that be?” His bicep flexes under your fingers, the placement of your hand on his arm fitting like two missing puzzle pieces.

“Now that I know Tomura is harmless, it’s much easier to read him than it is to read you. The same thing goes for Shuichi. Himiko…I think she tries her best,” you declare with a sparkle in your eye. “Kurogiri, however, remains a mystery to me. I don’t believe I saw the man’s face the entire time I was there.” Touya barks out a laugh and you once again hope no one is having a midnight cup of milk to find you both unchaperoned.

“You fit in well with them, all things considering.” You seem to take pride in his compliment. Seeing you so happy made him lightheaded, akin to when he swiped one too many shots from the palace cellar. “The only things missing are a few battle scars, but I won’t let you get any.”

“Why, you don’t think I’m tough enough for those?” You poke your tongue out at him and step away, drawing him to you in the cover of the alley like a magnet.

“Bold of you to assume I’d let anyone close enough to hurt you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, coming to stand in front of you until you’re backed up against the bricks. You’re nearly chest to chest and close enough to smell his cologne and the lingering scent of smoke. Your words drop to a nearly imperceptible level, but he hears them anyway. He always does.

“You know, we’re a long ways off from that duel in the courtyard,” you say quietly, heart pounding so loudly that you can’t meet his eyes. “I couldn’t have predicted that this would happen in a million years.”

“I had every intention to court you when I found you hiding behind that pillar,” Touya points out.

“I was not hiding,” you insist, taking the bait and ignoring the smirk that instantly appears on his stupid mouth. “I was just–”

“Taking a break, I remember,” he finishes for you. “No need to become argumentative about it again. It is in the past and I am pleased with how this arrangement has panned out.” Right. Your grin falters at the word ‘arrangement.’ You’d temporarily forgotten, if only for a few hours, that this was not real. Touya’s affection was fleeting, a memory that would fade into oblivion once his presence was gone too. His eyebrows furrow as he scans your face, looking for an indicator of what suddenly has you feeling sorrowful. “What ails you, my love?”

“I…I carry too much affection for you,” you admit, heat rising in your cheeks. You still won’t look at him. He hates when you don’t look at him. “An embarrassingly large amount, enough that it pains me when you reinstate that I am only an ‘arrangement,’ a business transaction.”

“I thought I said that you were more than that. You are more than that.” Touya grabs what little courage he has cowering at the bottom of his soul and yanks it into the open, gently turning your head to meet his eyes. Damn it all if he couldn’t tell you what he felt because he was scared. “You are…everything. To me.” Your breath hitches in your throat. His fingers find your face.

“I don’t understand–”

“You don’t need to,” he says. “You never could, nor could I. But I cannot take one more step or inhale one more breath without confessing how important you are to me. You are everything, and I swear on my life that what I say is true.” He pulls you closer ever so slowly until your own body closes the empty space, grabbing the back of his neck as a lifeline. You don’t know if he leans down first or you press up to him; but when you kiss Touya for the first time, it’s a match dropping into a dried forest. Months of frustrating, unspoken tension breaks the instant he touches you. You are a hellfire that he walks straight into.

“Touya, please–” Intoxicating, the way you say his name, and the drunken rush goes straight to his head.

“Everything…you are everything,” he rasps against your mouth, letting himself be burnt by his own selfish desires. Something in him snaps when your fingers find his hair and tug; the possessive grip on your waist tightens like you’d disappear if he let go. He kisses you until you’re breathless, until you’re forced to pull away because the only oxygen you’re taking is from his lungs. Even so, he refuses to let you go far, keeping his forehead against yours as you both regain control of your breathing. “I–I–”

“I know.” You stop him with a thumb brushing over his bottom lip. “You don’t have to say it.”

“I can’t say it yet,” he forces out. “I’ve never known how to.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, softly stroking his cheek with your knuckles. “Tell me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #touya x you #touya x reader #touya x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n

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alienoresimagines · 1 month

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Clegan Royalty/Bodyguard AU

A/N: You may have seen me talking about a WIP called 'I was made to protect you' so here is the actual introduction to the AU before I post a one-shot set in it in hopefully the next couple of days 🫶🏻❤️

Rightful heir to the throne of Anglia, John has always waited his 21st birthday with trepidation, not so much for the ceremony officially making him Crown Prince but rather because it is on this day he will be introduced to his Shield. Someone who will stay by his side for as long as John lives, trained specifically to ensure his protection, though it is not that part that thrills John.

King and Shield are closer than soulmates, he's seen it with his father and his sworn Guard. The prospect of meeting his Shield has John's stomach tied up in knots. What if he and John don't get along? What if his Shield hates him and only stays by his side out of duty? What if the only thing bringing them together for the decades to come is an oath?

All these thoughts fly out the window the moment John lays eyes on who will be his closest companion until his last breath, one Gale Cleven. He's the most beautiful man John has ever seen, with the twin scars on his cheeks and the cold indifference of duty in blue eyes that can't quite mask the kindness gruesome training hasn't managed to kill.

There is a reason why royals do not meet their Shield before their 21st birthday. One is not born a Shield. One has to become a Shield, train from a young age until all feelings have been ripped from them, bathed in blood more often than water until all their senses have been enhanced past what could be considered human. Only once those painful, gruesome years of training are over may one enter the Bloody Hundredth's ranks, the special unit of Anglia's army made of superhuman soldiers whose numbers have never exceeded one hundred because of how lethal their training is. Only the best of this hundred may pretend to be a royal's Shield, let alone the Crown Prince's Shield.

Despite it all, John is determined to climb past Gale's carefully built walls and strike a friendship with the other man. He doesn't quite expect to fall in love but he can't say he is surprised either, already halfway gone the first time he managed to make Gale smile a small but a real thing.

My Clegan fics

#clegan #buck x bucky #buck squared #the loyalty!!! learning how to be vulnerable!!! how to love!!! gale learning his worth 🥹🥹 with a healthy dose of pining and h/c #mota #masters of the air #mota fanfic #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #ali writes

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chihoshisai · 3 months

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Double Arrangement

Sabo x Reader

cw : royalty au, strangers to lovers, arranged/political engagement, reader is royalty, sabo is cold (but will warm up over time in other chapters) // wc : 3.851 words

Part 1

“What a happy day, isn't it? For our families to have settled on this union.”

“Yes mama,” you inclined your head towards your mother in an acquiescing manner — a tall astute woman known for her stern character hidden behind a kind smile. Seeing the faint smile blooming on your lips, one that had been forged through years of etiquette lessons, she turned her radiance towards the guests seated opposite the two of you. In turn you did as such, your eyes landing first and foremost on the man who had just been appointed as your fiance but not without stretching your lips further as decorum would have it.

Much in contrast to proper manners, your betrothed far from spared you the necessity of giving you a smile, rather keeping a pointed expression that soon found interest elsewhere from your profile. His aversion made it easier for you to scourge his features — named Sabo, blond haired, round eyed, an ailment on his left eye that was enough to incite scorn as scars were the same as losing one's standing in society. Even if the decoloration of his affliction far from bothered you, society wouldn't be as kind behind closed doors. Nevertheless, he sat looking attractive in his blue colored garments, leaving your heart to delay its flutter only once enough time would be given to get acquainted.

But for now, you had bigger worries for a forced engagement had been casted upon your shoulders, as the second child but first born daughter of your family. Your prospects were either to marry high nobility of your land or board a boat overseas. Following an unconventional past experience with the world beyond your borders it rendered you fearful of the unknown as someone thrown out of her element like a freshwater fish thrown into the ocean; you mused it wise to keep a higher authority, acquaintances and your family closer to your grasp in your homeland.

Love stories were a luxury of fiction, a sweet temptation to divert the mind and the heart from reality. A reality which sat before you in all its grandeur, as the chatter of your soon to be family in law echoed in your mind. Perhaps other members of society were accorded the pleasantry of seeking love matches. Even if you seeked the answer to this question, envied them for it, the reality remained that you were constricted to the coffins of your rank. Suffocating as it sometimes were, your gender additionned with your birth number made for a more breathable world. And now, as your bottom rested on a rather comfortable sofa, the invisible entrapment of a promised marriage came to suffocate your reality. In a rather swift and decisive way too, as just only a week ago the notion of marriage remained as a simple afterthought in your mind.

“I trust this union will make you see us as a part of your family. Of course we don't dream of ever replacing your parents, but that we will forge a similar bond over time dear,” the interpellation of the women sitting opposite you stirred you away from your musing.

Another polite smile. “Of course, Mrs. Didit,” you stared at the woman while hiding away the wretchedness she aroused in you through her pamperous and obscene behavior. Additionally, the father too, Outlook III, shared a common tinge of character as his wife, making the pair far from agreeable let alone likable. Despite their play at convincing your family, your heart far from agreed to entertain the false promises of accepting them as your kin.

“I believe it is time we let our children get acquainted with one another,” your mother raised aloud, stirring another round of stiff smiles and chuckles as last pleasantries were given.

With the emptying of the room, you finally felt like you had space to breathe — nevertheless you kept your posture, back straight and hands resting on your lap, as your position demanded it. You gave a quick glance at your bothered who had yet to say much on the occasion with the adults present. Under normal circumstances, it would be considered rude to not so much as partake in the conversation. Was it an attempt at silently rebelling the mariage? Or was he simply the shy type? In any case you could only hope he wasn't the tied tongued type.

“They all seem over the moon, as if they're marrying themselves,” you gave a stark chuckle to lighten up the atmosphere.

Sabo looked at you with a blank indecipherable expression. “Wish they would tone it down a bit but they'll probably be at it until the actual ceremony happens.” His voice was low, steady and devoid of any feelings.

A part of you rejoiced at his response — at least your days wouldn't be spent in total quietude. “And after that they'll fill our ears with talk of babies,” you added, hoping to bond on a shared enemy.

However your claims were met with an iron wall. “Are you opposed to this mariage?” Sabo asked, sending such an inquiring gaze to pierce through yours it took you aback.

“Should I be?” The bridge between your eyebrows furrowed itself.

“I always thought princesses like you dreamed of grand mariages and promises of love.”

The incredulous statement made you spill out an offended scoff. To hear an unfiltered opinion of the masses made you realize just how absurd your gilded world must sound to others outside the walls.

“Am I wrong?” Sabo pressed further, raising an eyebrow as he kept his unreadable composure.

“Well,” you began, shifting over your sitting cushion. “I did in fact dream of love and all its promises once upon a time ago.” You fiddled with your fingers, blinking as a diversion to avert your eyes.

“I feel there is a but coming, feel free to speak freely,” Sabo gave a respectably nod.

You thinned your lips, feeling guilty of pointing out an obvious reality. “We're strangers,” you curtly said. “Even with a flashing ceremony, what love is there to be found with someone I know less of than my own personal staff?” You explained.

Sabo hummed and nodded in approval. “Glad we agree on that. I wasn't planning on seeing this through either way.”

It was with utter unsettlement that you tilted your head to the side, bewildered at his announcement. “Excuse me?”

“I do not wish to marry you,” Sabo frankly repeated, keeping his uptight sitting position and fists clenched on his legs.

“Surely you will not do me the humiliation of not seeing this through?” Your voice took on a breathy note while your core started feeling the restraints of your corset.

“Someone of your rank will recover from this,” his sharp words seemed to cut past the layers of lessons and facades built into you.

Your breathing quickened. “Surely not after such an affront, I will be sent abroad!” You slowly shook your head, mostly for yourself than to make him realize your desperation.

“Oh what a bad thing,” Sabo sarcastically said, and at the spiteful glare you gave him he quickly added. “You will be fine, I'm sure.”

“No. I agreed to this marriage, to avoid such a fate. We must work this out, find a common ground, something, please!”��

Sabo kept his walls, only allowing himself a slight disapproval shake of the head. “I'm afraid there is nothing for us to negotiate on.”

“Then what is your reason for refusing? Responsibility? You will have none for my brother is king. Being a Duke shouldn't be far off your alley,” you rather harshly spat, feeling the rumbling of an unsure future elevate the rhythm of your breathing.

“My circumstances are not for you to know,” Sabo dryly responded.

Your palms clenched into fists as a boiling down your stomach raged. Nevertheless your upbringing prevented you from spewing profanities at the man before you. “Then, if I may, how will you waltz your way through this engagement? Or am I not entitled to know?”

Sabo mustered your gaze for a few moments. “Well, as you are a part of this, you should be made aware that I intend to keep it up for appearance's sake and once…” he trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows not from anger but from discontent. “Once my affairs are in order, I shall disappear without pinning no blame on you whatsoever.”

“And how long will this charade last?” The polished nails from your fingertips clawed at your skin unconsciously.

“Say two to five weeks at most.”

You took in a deep breath, feeling the straightness of your back starting to burn in discomfort. “I thank you for your honesty. Had you been sincere from the start, we would have both greatly benefited from not having to be in one another's company for such a short time,” all traces of counterfeited courtesy left your face seeing as there was no need to keep up a facade with a deceitful stranger.

“I had no intention of proceeding with this engagement. Things went haywire which led to this unfortunately,” Sabo tried to plead but you paid him no mind, receiving it instead with a dry scoff.

On this note you stood up, feeling betrayed and reluctant to stare a second longer into his emotionless blank eyes. “Oh what a bad thing to happen,” you sarcastically spoke in turn, scarcely refusing to accord him a curtsey before your brisk heels stomped the carpet and carried you elsewhere.

----

Love never came easy to all. This you knew and were ready to make the necessary work towards achieving this desired necessity for a smooth mariage. But instead, you found yourself entrapped with a mixture of anxiety, fear and despise towards someone you were ready to move mountains for. Someone who had spoken their mind freely and truly, sparing you the hollows from darkness of the unknown by confiding in you rather than lie or keep secrets. Someone who had expressed their wishes, which you had, in retrospect, poorly reacted to. If your mind wasn't in such a frenzy as to what fate awaited you at the end of the month, you would instead be wallowing in self-deprecation for your poor display of understanding, let alone empathy.

You had no knowledge of the whereabouts of your mother, nor the guests she entertained for that matter, therefore your pace led you to a secluded place, bolting in a respectable way between the hard workers of the castle. Climbing a flight of stairs, hands treading up the hem of your skirts, you ignored all until you reached the royal infirmary.

There your body found comfort, basking in the sunlight that seeped through the open curtains, the transparency of the uniform white color that inhabited the room, leaping along in a similar way on the sheets from the single bed with rows of pharmaceutics surrounding it, the vague smell of antiseptics and the sight of the nurse. A kindhearted woman with purple hair, named Kobato and sporting glasses who had been accorded the privilege of nursing not only you but your family line as well, while the physician busied himself through other household summons.

“Are you ill, your highness?” The woman asked, scrambling to stand from her desk to bend in a curtsey, her eyes luring over your form.

In fact, through your rush in coming here your cheeks had shot red in color and your breathing had increased in a ragged mess since leaving the sitting room. The nurse's concern was well placed.

“I'm fine,” you breathed and went to lie on the bed. Its plush, silk texture soothed the exterior of your predicament as the nurse went to stand nearby.

“Would you like a glass of water?” She asked, taking notice of your breathless behavior.

You nodded. “That would be appreciated, yes.”

As she busied herself, you slumped further into the pillow, staring at the pristine ceiling that, unlike the many other rooms lacked in lavish decorations, which often than not prevented your eyes from feeling overwhelmed. Your mind followed suit, sinking in the news you received the day before that you were to be engaged, plus meet with his family the next day. How, despite having the knowledge that no pleas or arguing would help your case, you gritted your teeth and welcomed an obscene couple into your home, played at false pretenses during a brunch and finally as private time had been bestowed onto the pair like a reward, you faced the soon to be news that it would all fall apart.

“There you go miss,” the nurse handed you the glass. You propped yourself into a sitting position, eyes lingering in the past while you uttered a faint appreciation of her gesture before drinking.

Soon the glass was freed from your person and you laid back down, propping your hand on your core like a corpse as you felt your rapid rise of the chest quell down.

“Is royalty unlovable?” You asked the nurse, fully expecting a certain answer.

Her honeyed voice filtered through your ears like butter. “Of course not! It would be everyone's greatest honor to marry into the royal family,” she assured you.

A silence occurred in which you focused only on your breathing.

“Is this about your recent engagement?” Her tone carried uncertainty as she felt dubious whether her question was appropriate.

“I'm afraid I am not to marry,” you dryly said.

“What terrible news, how so?”

Your eyes maintained their focus on the white ceiling. “He has other obligations inquiring him to run away and which he does not wish to share with me.” Seeing as the nurse had returned to her desk, you failed to witness the compassionate gaze she bore. “What am I to do? I do not wish to leave everything I've ever known behind to marry another elsewhere,” you murmured in a low voice. Your heart clenched while your knuckles turned white. Such a display would grant you a lecture from your mother, but thankfully the nurse was one of the few discreet, tight lipped individuals of the palace.

“Your highness could accompany him into his business if she doesn't wish to end the engagement,” the nurse spoke after a moment of musing.

You bit your lower lip, feeling she had a point for as -if- the marriage would come to pass, both of you would be thrown out of your respective residence to start anew in a new one. “Is that my only option?” You asked. Begging your family to betroth you to another at this stage would not only be folly, but a complete affront they would never be compelled to face.

“Or you could give him a reason to stay. Convince him that the pros of your alliance far outweighs those of his obligation.”

You shifted over the bed covers, turning towards the nurse to glimpse at the truest smile one could find here. There were no traces of malice from her face or words of advice. The history that had settled over the years compelled you to trust in her words as you gave her a hopeful smile.

“Thank you, I'll try,” you sat up as she nodded. At the end of the day, you were also a member of the royal bloodline — if your brother and mother were too proud to marry you off to another member of society, then why let the man in question fly his wings elsewhere? Why, after knowing of his intentions, would you sit by and let it happen? What good would come off it but your own loss of face? Like many, you had your own pride too. Plus arranged marriages weren't uncommon, and God forbids you let it dissolve without a common ground of understanding.

It was with this resolution that you bid farewell to the nurse, thanking her for the advice and time she spared you and headed down the halls once more. You marched, once again sparing few notice at the constant buzzing of the staff amidst the castle, instead forging a rough plan following the guidance you had received.

After having a general idea to propose, you confidently turned the doorknob of the room you previously sat in only to be met with absolute desolation from the lack of living being. A pout rounded your lips — of course Sabo wouldn't have stayed alone in the same room for so long. You closed the door behind you, thinking of the places a guest might take interest in from the palace but resorted to asking the working personnel for any sightings of your fiance until you found the answer.

“Sabo, there you are,” you walked upon the grass and further into the garden; flowers of all kinds lounged the side, and lush wisteria trees descended like an accomplice to partly hide the height of your betrothed.

Hearing his name, he perked his head up in your direction, giving a look, again far from decipherable. “Are we to return to our parents?”

You shook your head, stopping once you had entered the coffins under the tree to stand before him. “Not at all.”

“Then what is it?” His tone was rather impatient, which didn't come as a surprise.

The scent of the flowers blooming into one aroma prevented you from losing your cool. “May I ask, are you refusing to marry because you love another? Will you wed someone else?”

“Far from that actually. Though you could say there are others whom I love outside of this life,” his reply sounded disinterested, almost as though he owed you that much for the sake of your inner peace.

Good. Then it meant there is place for negotiations. You ignored his innuendo, pressing further with your plan. “I'm aware you previously refused all forms of negotiations, but will you hear me out?”

“Anything for her highness,” he sarcastically said, his eyes visibly fighting an eye roll.

Once again, you brushed aside his rudeness. “You are, as I imagine, planning on leading a life outside of your noble status, correct?”

He nodded. “So?”

“Have you considered the cons such a life would provide? Think, if you, or those you briefly fondly spoke of, were to fall ill how will you pay for the medical bill? I may not know which part of town you wish to live in but how will you seek refuge if a plague were to break out? How will you eat if a famine occurs?”

It was enough to compel him to roll his eyes properly. “Discomfort is of no concern to me. If nobles weren't living such a life, maybe the issues you spoke of wouldn't be a problem.”

“Perhaps not, but the reality remains that it is. They exist, and you, who have been sheltered under the roof of said nobles, have made your body acclimated to such a life.”

“Which I refuse to lead any longer,” he darkly said.

“Then perhaps you could consider the benefits of a double life?” He raised an eyebrow which internally left you gleeful to have aroused his interest. “Look, political engagement like ours isn't only for couples to get to know one another while our respective parties benefit from it. We can also both get something out of it.” You took in a deep breath. “We marry, apart from your required presence at certain events, you lead a life free from the responsibilities of a Duke, which I shall assume instead while you maintain the financial security and aid the title provides.” Now that the cat was out of the bag, your heart raced in anticipation while awaiting his answer.

Sabo scoffed, baffled at your statement. “And how is it, your highness, that you can utter such words with confidence? Have you ever done paperwork?”

Your expression twisted, offended. “Do not assume my capabilities based on my title. I'll have you know that as the second in line, I received an education, perhaps not as precise as my brother, but nonetheless fit enough to rule the kingdom if his life was to slip away! Managing a mere dukedom is like child's play!” You reeled in his face, even if the hidden truth remained you sometimes indulged more in dilly dallying than work.

“Apologies,” and for once he spoke of sincerity, for the fire in your chest quelled at his words. “Say we proceed with your plan, what is there for you in this? Surely not love?”

You briefly exhaled through your nose. “Love?” You brushed aside the preposterous idea with the wave of your hand. “What love is there to be found while trying to make a common agreement? I desire nothing more than to avoid being sent abroad.”

To your relief, Sabo didn't pry further in your reasoning, inclining his interest elsewhere. “How will you be so sure no one will pry into our business?”

“We could consider moving to the countryside. None will take interest in a couple that moves so far away from the town and it's gossip.” Finally, you felt seen, as the look he casted on you wasn't so devoid of emotions but one with keen interest. “Furthermore, if you do not desire this path, I am willing to sacrifice my privilege to be your companion on your journey.” With hesitancy, you wrapped your fingers around his hands, at first delicately for it was the first time you physically interacted with a man outside of your family. “Our worlds collided today, but it doesn't mean we can't make the most of it.” Your fingertips that now found ease on the warmth of Sabo's hands gave a slight squeeze to emphasize your point.

Sabo's eyebrows furrowed. “No,” he abruptly pulled his hands away from your grasp, showing no remorse from the abrupt shock on your face. “You speak without knowing of my plans. It may all sound grand to you, but I do not wish to carry dead weight with me.”

“I am not dead weight!”

“But have you ever walked down commoner’s streets?” His eyebrows drew closer together and his voice had raised an inch, the reality of his location preventing him from properly shouting.

Ashamed to answer aloud, you bit your lower lip while averting your gaze.

“There is no telling whether the life I want for myself will be suitable for you. I can't let you accompany me.” He firmly said.

His tone was final, however you longed to plead your case further. Therefore you parted your lips, but before the sound of your resistance came forth, the voice of your mother came to interrupt instead.

“Ah, finally. We were beginning to wonder where you both had wandered off to.” Yet you spared none of your attention towards her voice, keeping instead a disappointed but hopeful look on Sabo.

Feeling more hurt than you'd like to admit, you watched as Sabo walked past you, his ignoring the following of your gaze along himself to rejoin the group of adults. It was also with reluctance that you stiffened your features, squared your shoulders with a straight back and followed in his tracks.

--------

Part 2

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