#sleeping with someone when you both have wings is a difficult thing to work around

[all54321]

HotGuy!

Thinking about the Soulbound AU and also about Scar’s HotGuy antics and had the thought about him doing it to Grian, even though it would be like him doing it to himself. Also with the fact that he actually has wings now, it would make this whole thing better. Now that I’m thinking about it, opinions on them having hawk wings for the bit? I never thought about what wings he has before. Whatever they are, I want it to be a more predatory bird because he’s a vex, and they’re very violent generally.

Also this is properly a drabble for once.

—————

The yell of “HotGuy” is the only warning Grian gets before he feels an arrow is piercing into him. Since he was already low on health due to whatever shenanigans Scar had been doing, the arrow kills him.

He jolts up in bed, trying to process what just happened, only to be pulled from his thoughts from Scar’s loud cackling. Grian turns to his soulmate with a glare, who seems entirely unbothered by what just happened. “Scar!”

His laughter quiets a little, but he still doesn’t seem remorseful, “I didn’t realize we were that low on health.”

Grian punches him on the shoulder, unable to keep his annoyance while listening to Scar’s laughter, the sound always being music to his ears. It doesn’t mean he can’t pretend, however. Although it’s clear that Scar can see through him. “Come on, we need to get our stuff back.”

“Right, right,” he concedes, still grinning.

[kakashi-miso]

Ash Camellia (ANGST Fanfiction)

Preface

When talking about the Naruto anime, many argue that it is a “fighting anime”, and most of these people are right, because this is part of the genre in which this work consists. However, many began to forget what the series and pages of the manga about the Jinchuriki boy taught us all this time: connections with loved ones are the most important thing we have, and we must value them, protecting them from a possible break. People close to us give us smiles, help us in difficult times, and in general - their presence nurtures the soul. Whenever we worry about someone, we don’t do it with the goal of burdening ourselves or simply suffering. We fear that our valuable connection with this loved one will be severed. When a person quarrels with someone, he is certainly in pain and sad, but at least his now “stranger” is alive, and the fact that he is angry with you may turn out to be temporary. When someone close to us dies, we are lost, because, in our opinion, it was too quickly and unfair, because your strong connection was destroyed against each other's wishes.

In times like these, people around you help you cope with the devastation of a loss. Although you know for sure that the grief of your loss will never let you go, you still smile at those who worry about you, because at such a time you understand: “They care about me.” Both that thing and that one are painful. An example is the case between Naruto and Sasuke: Uzumaki chased the Uchiha for several years in a row, in the hope of maintaining the connection that they had built between themselves. After taking the situation from Sasuke:He was left alone against the will of himself and his parents, and considers it unfair, but finding that there is a chance to release his pain and suffering on the culprit, he decides to take revenge on Itachi for his act. In both cases, the boys' connections were negatively impacted. They both suffered from being afraid or had already lost touch with someone who meant a lot to them.

This fanfic is the fruit of my ideas and ideas. I, like many of you, really enjoy dramatic moments, especially in anime. Finding more and more new ideas and ideas, I presented them, sometimes illustrated them, and in the end, after a certain number of “roll plays”, I realized that all these stories share the same theme: Connection, and supporting each other. "The hole in your heart is something that other people can fill…" - Kakashi Hatake

Prologue

Almost a day. The sun had risen for quite some time: the birds were singing; The foliage of trees and bushes developed in a light breeze. And in the country of hot springs it was quite quiet. So much so that the rustling of trees and the fluttering of birds’ wings could be heard even from the living room, which had 3 futons (a futon is a traditional Japanese bedding in the form of a thick cotton mattress spread out at night for sleeping), two of them were made, and the third was still was still busy.

The calm face of the lying man was illuminated by the rays of the sun setting from the exit into the small garden. A long and heavy sigh sounded in the room, which permeated a whole palette of shades of fatigue and drowsiness. The eyelids of the lying person remained heavy, and it seemed that the body did not want to get up at all, not to mention the fact that the arms and legs ached as if a whole crowd of elephants had trampled on them, no less. The noise of the hinged door on the right. The pair of coal pupils that were directed towards the garden slowly floated to the right, staring at the source of the sound, and did not show the slightest sense of surprise. The silhouette in a robe approached, modest and seemingly fragile, and squatted down next to the futon. From above came the voice of a girl who had already been awake for a long time, because she got up at 8 in the morning, like another guest. Now it was almost 12:00 on the clock.

-How long will you stay here for a long time? Kakashi-sama, are you feeling unwell? – asked a girl with unruly and slightly curly black hair like a raven’s feathers. -Not at all. It's like I've been lying here for a long time. – Kakashi sat down, finally brushing off the blanket, and gave himself a couple more minutes to come to, stroking his face with his hands, and fighting the dizziness that was visible only from the paleness of his skin. A quiet cough broke through the silence, as if he was choking or his throat was dry.

-You’ve been lying here for almost 4 hours, by the way, and it’s already lunch time, but you still haven’t had breakfast. Guy-san is already bored, although he is trying to tell some stories for me. “The woman sitting next to me objected and crossed her arms over her chest, as if condemning the ash-haired man for his inattention and procrastination. -4 hours? Is it true? I didn't even notice, haha! How absent-minded I am,” Hatake laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head, making an embarrassed expression on his face. Afterwards, he quickly changed his emotion to a relaxed and friendly one - Thank you for reminding me, Mirai, I’m on my way. Wait for me in the room with Guy.

-Great. By the way, what will you eat? Otherwise, you will lose even more weight than you are now.” A light smile came across the face of Sarutobi, who now stood up and put her hands on her hips, preparing to carry out the order of the Sixth Hokage, even if he was retired. It was a great honor for her. Moreover, this was an S-rank mission, to which she was assigned by Mr. Seventh Hokage himself. Closing her eyes, languishing in her anticipation, she listened to the incoming answer.

-A? No thanks, Mirai. I am not hungry. But I would be extremely grateful if you ordered me chamomile tea without sugar. And what about being thin – it’s just a matter of age, don’t worry, I’m fine. Now go, I will come to you soon. The girl’s face began to look puzzled, which was revealed by her eyebrows, and an awkward “What?” came out of her mouth. Her ruby ​​eyes stared at the man sitting, but she did not wait long for the request to be repeated, and instead decided to think it over carefully on the way over tea.

Mirai's footsteps were already in the corridor. The gears were humming in her head, and it was all too strange: Loss of weight, pallor, loss of appetite, and what’s more, now he didn’t even really get out of bed. Was he really that lazy? Then where does the loss of appetite come from? With creaking boards under her feet, she approached the modest common dining room, where she was going to ask for chamomile tea. It was already a little noisy there, because the people sitting at the table were talking, which made it difficult for the walking girl to think. Fortunately, Kakashi made sure that the three of them ate separately from everyone else, which was his privilege as a special guest, so that their meals took place only in their special social circle. Chamomile tea, by the way, had many properties, and almost no one knew about some of them. But Mirai knew, who was told about it by her mother. Chamomile tea has sedative and hypnotic properties, and sometimes relieves pain from tension, but in addition, chamomile tea could alleviate the feeling of nausea. Naturally, Hatake might just want to drink this tea, because… He likes him, but given the suspicious details that the girl noticed earlier, this did not at all fit with the “usual desire to drink tea.”

Kakashi was known to everyone for his calmness, so he definitely wouldn’t drink tea to calm down. Then other functions of this tea come to mind, such as reducing the feeling of nausea, and they were already annoying the lady, at the moment, approaching the cook and asking for a cup of chamomile tea without sugar. By the way, the lack of sugar in tea could also indicate a possible stomach upset. Is he lying to her? The blatant lie “Everything is fine” angered the young kunoichi a little. She was determined to find out the truth, because she was assigned to this important mission of “Escort and protect the Sixth Hokage and his friend,” and in Sarutobi’s opinion, she was simply obliged to intervene in order to report on the condition of those being escorted.

Thanking her for the tea with a short bow, her confident step clattered on the boards, surely and quickly, closing the distance between her and the room in which Guy was waiting for her at a tea table and a couple of servings of onigiri. Behind the hinged door one could already hear the ringing voice of a disabled man who was amusing himself with some joke on the part of the ash-haired man who had arrived. Mirai pulled back the hinged door and walked towards the table, meeting the gaze of Kakashi, who gave her a warm smile. Guy exhaled, suppressing his laughter. The girl put the tea on the table, closer to Kakashi, who was sitting opposite the kunoichi.

He nodded gratefully to her for this, and began to drink a hot drink through his mask, which sometimes looked strange from the outside, but it seems that these two were already accustomed to this. His satisfied voice muttered in an even tone:

-Mmm… Thank you very much, this is the best thing this morning -Did you mean to say "this afternoon"? – Mirai corrected him, causing an energetic reaction from Guy

-Ha ha ha! Yes, Kakashi is a real lazy person. Sometimes it’s impossible to get him out of bed, and lately there’s no need to even try - Thick-browed stretched out a wide smile, revealing all 36 of his teeth, which shone no worse than a diamond. “You need to be able to be lazy so that you don’t get bored,” Kakashi muttered in response to Might, drinking tea again. Once again Six made his friend burst into laughter.

The chunin's eyebrows furrowed, full of suspicion. Lazyness? Of course, she has heard a lot about his absent-mindedness, but in the words of Shikamaru: “How tired I am of him… His sudden escapes into the thicket of the forest for walks irritate me a little. But he says that he can no longer sit still… What a hassle! This phrase accurately emphasized that Kakashi was far from being one of those who liked to remain in one position for a long time. She answers the question: -Are you feeling unwell?

-What? Where did you get the idea? – Kakashi raised a puzzled glance at the two rubies in the girl’s eyes and began to wait for an explanation for such a harsh statement. Guy also didn’t understand what happened, but he wasn’t going to interfere.

-Well… Your pale face, too much rest in bed, a slight cough and in the end - Sarutobi's finger went to the chamomile tea - Nausea.

-What? Nausea? I have always been pale, and it is absolutely true that I am lazy. Cough? I don’t know, but I think I just caught a cold, my health is no longer the same. - The ash-haired man’s face took on a more carefree expression, and his eyebrows shot up, as if this was something completely normal for him. -You have already given up your second meal. You have no appetite. Are you sure it's a cold? -Hmmm… I'm telling you: I probably just had a cold. Mirai, I'll handle it, don't worry. – In response, Kakashi received a suspicious look from the kunoichi. There was definitely something wrong with her opinion. This is all very strange. -What about nausea? – The attendant’s eyebrow arched in puzzlement.

-What makes you think I'm sick? I have no appetite due to a cold. -Chamomile tea not only soothes, but also eliminates the feeling of nausea and heaviness in the stomach, and considering that you have already refused two meals, this becomes suspicious.

The glances crossed each other. Mask visibly tensed. His gaze stared at the woman sitting opposite him, and he thought about how to explain all this to him. The silence was diluted by a quiet and modest cough into a fist held to the side. Having regained his calm and stoic face, he turned to his interlocutor: -The other day I wanted to eat fish, but it was not the freshest. Without calculating the capabilities of my body, I did not pay attention to it. Apparently, in my old age, my stomach has become a little more susceptible to spoiled foods.

-I will never in my life believe that you, known as a witty ninja, will not be able to adequately calculate your capabilities. “The girl’s gaze became even rougher, she dug her fingers into the table, and her lips compressed into a crooked thread. In response to such an argument, Kakashi fell silent again, and then again began to stand his ground. -It is impossible to be witty everywhere and always. I'm fine, what are you doing? Yes, sometimes I’m absent-minded, you know… If something happens, I’ll tell you about it. “He tiredly rocked back and pointed his nose toward the ceiling, thinking about something.

-Don’t try to lie to me, I’m responsible for your health! And when will you tell me about this? When will you die?! – Mirai stated, already starting to rest her hands on the table, her hair moving. The bad feeling in the girl’s heart was like a storm, and it became stronger every second. Having passed through his thoughts the scolding for Assuma's insight, which he had bestowed on his daughter, Kakashi drank his tea again, closing his eyes. Curly continued - Your weight has dropped at an unhealthy rate recently, and this cannot be explained by age! Too little time has passed to lose weight like this, and considering that you only had a “little cold”, you shouldn’t have lost so much weight. Are you lying so that I don’t worry about you?! Because of your distrust, I am now three times more worried!

Enough. – The Sixth Hokage answered and put a cup of tea on the table with a serious look that rose to Sarutobi. The girl shuddered at such a serious tone. The ever-carefree and pretty Kakashi, as she had seen him in recent days, showed his strict nature, which she really did not expect. The voice of the retired Hokage continued his monotone speech: – Mirai, listen, since the beginning of our mission you have been experiencing too much stress about any situation. Don't exaggerate. I just had a cold, and I’ve always been thin. Guy won't let me lie about this. Let me remind you that you mistook two old men for murderers when we went to the land of steam, so calm down and just enjoy your vacation. – Hatake turned to his faithful rival, waiting for his confirmation of what was happening.

-Mirai, it's true. For as long as I've known Kakashi, he almost always refused treats or a full meal, and he always had this type of physique. – Said the disabled person, slightly puzzled by what was happening. Despite all his noisiness and brightness, he had no desire to prevent them from resolving the conflict. A wave of guilt, burning every atom of the body, penetrated the girl’s body. She was a little taken aback, because the words about her paranoia were true: she really was constantly on guard, and apparently her constant suspicions went beyond understanding. Her cheeks turned red with shame. The girl sat down and pursed her lips: “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I yelled.” I was too rude, sorry. – The gaze of two scarlet eyes was directed under the table. She sat down and sighed, relieving the tension throughout her body and the boil that arose from the feeling of a blatant lie on the part of the elderly shinobi.

-Everything is fine. Just try not to fill your head with such things. Relax. If anything happens so serious, I will definitely tell you about it. But as you can see, everything is under control. - Said a calm tone of voice, and now Guy relaxed along with his friend, seeing that his argument had been resolved, and he was not angry at all. Might sighed, a little sad that Mirai was living under constant stress due to the extreme importance of this mission.

Of course, Kakashi had to operate with her character traits. In his opinion it was better this way. In any case, perhaps this really was a good decision, and besides, they left the ash-haired man behind with questions about his health. As soon as the conflict was settled, Guy, with particular appetite, began to eat his portion, which was standing there even before the tea was brought. As did Mirai's portion, which she began to reluctantly eat, suppressing feelings of shame and guilt for yelling at the former Hokage.

Author's comment: Phew… Finally. It took me a long time to translate because… You won't get much at once. It was difficult. I'm really looking forward to hearing from you about this! I'm interested in your impressions

[stardust-in-my-mind-blog]

agoraphobia

it's interesting how quickly you can change from yourself

I've always known myself to be adventurous

as long as I have a car and some music I can go anywhere

and never have to leave my normal plane of exisitence

I think there's something about the energy moving

with the wind and the windows down and me just

screaming out whatever I feel into the playful air

my hair everywhere and one arm out like I'm flying

one on the wheel because I'm a responsible adult

that despite my friendly melancholy do love to live

I think I forgot to for awhile and didn't mind being

some sort of ghost of myself chained to the responsilbites

and duties I willing chose to take and make the most with

the resources began to slip away and I adapted until

I become a silhouette of slowly learned helplessness

it didn't matter what I did or how I tried to overcome

everything just kept crumbling beneath me

and when I struggled everyone joined the chorus

of how it was my fault if I reached out so I stopped

and made the best of what I could do with what I had

until I didn't even want to leave my house or face any

kind of reality that I couldn't control or balance

and outside in that crazy would it's difficult to do that

the more stressed I become the more rigid I become

everything feels like it has jagged edges and thorns

especially my memories so let's just find a place

to hide for awhile and find a way to self soothe

ignore the world closing in around me and find

something to do to get through the feelings

releasing trauma is understanding the experience consciously

and walking slowly through it while feeling the hysteria

of the past and understanding you're still in the present

it's a wild sort of energy and I could never say I like it

today there must have been too many transitions

there wasn't conflict but there were every day things

that had attachments that kept piling up

until all at once I couldn't grasp my thoughts

or understand where I was and nothing worked to ground me

I was a fluttering of all my wings and anxieites

trapped, helpless, and so embarrassed about it

to the point where my nausea felt like a friend

after going through the usual self-soothing

and nothing working I felt the panic begin to rise

but there was a touchstone space that I was able

to run my fingertips over for the briefest glimpse of clarity

and I knew a full system reboot was the only solution

my nervous system was completely hijacked

and all I'd be able to do to reclaim it was sleep

afterward I decided to take my youngest to temple

and meet the white stone likeness of Kuan Yin

I told him a story about her and he liked the lotus flower

she happened to be standing on and we both noticed

someone had placed a red flower in between her toes

it was nice to share that with my son though I guess

I'd kind of fallen from any kind of tangible sacredness

it was more a practice for myself because I never wanted

to force any kind of worship for anything on my children

but it is nice to introduce them to something divine

once in awhile that's carved out of beauty

normally I'd wake up and maybe not leave

or go somewhere in the forest or a park where

the energy was just nature and calm and normal

but changing up my routine and getting out of

this environment really did help quite a bit

we walked around the artsy little town

and found a little park next to water fountains

and so many flocks of Canadian geese

I've been doing a lot of roaming and wandering lately

exploring and letting myself just fucking think openly

about whatever I saw or resonated with in observation

it reminds me how far I've come from where I was

last year when everything just felt like a slow decent

into an underworld I thought I'd already survived

I think I've done a pretty good job facing the evil eye

and left so many layers at each of the seven gates

touching that statue with my receiving hand

gave me a sense of peace that I didn't expect

like an embrace of a friend I've known for so long

I'm glad my impulses are not more about change

than avoiding or escaping the things that I feel

it's important to me to feel safe in my body

and it's a relatively new experience for me

but that sense of foundation is only strengthening

I trust myself again and even feel quite a bit of upset

when the perspective of another tries to shove itself

down my my own energy and say it's more real

I've been given opportunities and experiences

and I could have chosen to do the same things

but I mostly chose instead to grow and evolve

some of it has been fun but most of it hasn't

the universe works for you if you let it

life moves through you in beautiful ways

if you open up and embrace its uncertainty

it's all just a practice of acceptance and self unity

which sounds a lot easier than the process they say

to trust even though that particular platitude

is really fucking frustrating even if it's true

my peace was hard won today and that makes it

a little more valuable to me I think in this moment

my fear of everything is slowly fading

and divine timing is not quite the crptic and

trickster timeline that I once believed that it was

[id0ntkn0w0101]

Of Dreams and Fury - Chapter 5

Hel

I felt myself slipping into that half-awake place some called the Lucid World, where all the conscious and unconscious minds were open and available to Dreamwalkers and their less nice Fearweaver counterparts. Psychic protection runes and sigils like the ones at the Barracks could easily keep out normal Retrievers, and even make it difficult for Dreamwalkers to get a lock on anyone, but usually if the Dreamwalker in question tried hard enough, they could power through the psychic walls put up. I braced myself for the noise I knew was coming and opened my eyes. I could hear the idle thoughts of everyone in about a mile radius. I could hear the couple a few doors down from my hotel room talking shit about the other one in their minds, and I could feel someone’s fear coming from some other room in the hotel. I floated through the wall and glided down to the ground, letting my thoughts unfurl behind me in the form of wings, just as any other Dreamwalker or someone with particularly honed psychic abilities could in the Lucid world.

Some things I looked at had a blur to them from me not remembering every detail of them and nobody around me looking at them and thinking of them. I jumped up, letting my wings push the air behind me as I launched up into the air. I glided above the street, keeping an ear out for any mention of Dorian Merrick, but heard nothing. If I focused on the Barracks in the distance, all I heard was a quiet hum, but I know that if I got close that hum would become a shrill screeching sound that would likely slow me down too much. I drifted to one of the other warehouses near the Barracks, resisting the shriek of the safehouse’s psychic protections that kept telling me to fuck off. Blurry figures moved to and fro, going about their late night business.

I looked towards the Barracks once again, seeing one of the casually dressed bouncers shut the barn-style door behind them as they entered the worn out looking building. They both were thinking about how great it would be to finally get some rest after a tiring day, one of them thinking about how happy they would be when they got to see their wife again. I let out a puff of air. Maybe Bernard was right, I briefly wondered before flying off in search of some kind of input regarding the little Lord’s whereabouts.

After an absolutely fruitless search, I woke up from my lucid sleep and took off the headgear, rubbing my ears and taking some of the migraine pain medication on the nightstand next to me. I could still feel the sharp ringing in the very end of my ear canal from the protection sigils, but it would probably go away in a couple hours. I grabbed my sleeping medication, took the dose, and laid back in hopes I could get actual sleep and not just work sleep.

I woke up just a few hours later to the sun peering in through the windows. My mother was sitting in the reclining chair by the window, after having drawn the curtains and moved the small desk halfway across the room so she could perch herself in the comfier chair and work on her computer some more. “What are you doing here,” I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes and stretching before standing to go to the small single-cup coffee maker on the counter.

“I’m simply here to check in on the case,” Eris Cramer said, looking over at me with an annoyed look, her fingers never stopping typing, “This one is very important for the agency, you know. If we can solve this, His Majesty the King might even use us as his official Retrieval agency!”

“I know, Mom. I’m working on it, Bernie is supposed to call me today about a lead.”

“You went to Bernard,” she scoffed, “Honey there is a reason he was sent to the other branch. And it wasn’t because I expected him to end up taking it over. It’s because he can never focus on the big cases. I could’ve helped you, dear.”

“Mom the reason you made my brother move was because his wife is human and you didn’t want to see his halfling children. He is based in the area I needed sources in and he offered to help.”

“Let me guess, you think Mr. Merrick is at the Barracks.”

“That’s the best bet I’ve got, now can you leave so- “He’s not there,” she interrupted, barely glancing at me before her eyes returned to her screen, “If he was, he would’ve been found when the King sent out the first batch of his forces.”

“Oh yeah it’s not like the Barracks are a tight knit community with psychic sigils and guards or anything. The King always hires Retrievers to do these sorts of things, because his ‘forces’ are clearly incompetent, mother.”

“Whatever you say my dear,” the stern woman said, her hair perfectly up and sleeked down in her everyday bun, “But I know for a fact that he won’t be there. Mr. Lumin has a very strict policy against anyone in the Barracks having any Dreamwalker on their tale. Calls it an ‘invasion of innocent people’s privacy’. He told me himself when I went to question him immediately after the King arrived to hire you.”

“Well did he tell you where he was going?”

“No, Emmett is too smart for that. He made sure to avoid any information about where Mr. Merrick would be running off to. He knew someone was going to ask him about the Lord’s whereabouts, and didn’t want to risk getting caught in a lie. He’s done it before.”

“Listen, Mom,” I said, looking at the clock and seeing I only had about 45 minutes to get ready and meet Kellin at the cafe he wanted to have lunch at, “I appreciate your help, and I’ll follow the lead. But I’m also gonna talk to Bernie’s contact whenever he sets up the meeting. Now I’ve gotta get ready to go, I have another potential lead to follow.” The woman simply grunted dismissively and I sighed, grabbing my clothes and walking to the bathroom to get ready.

I texted Kellin during the taxi ride there to tell him I’d be a tiny bit late and, remembering who my mother is, he was completely understanding. The taxi dropped me off at a familiar coffee shop and I froze staring at the big sign. Mochamotion Station was Claire’s favorite place. She’d spend hours here just sipping at her sugary coffee drinks, writing little short stories and fanfiction on her laptop that she’d never let anyone else read. It’s where she met Kel too, who was sitting at one of the benches outside the big windows that graced the front of the cafe. “I figured this was as good of a meeting place as any,” the man said, his tightly coiled hair thrown up into a bun at the back of his head.

“I guess so. I haven’t been here since she…” I let my words fade, knowing full well that he knew what I meant.

“I haven’t either, but I figured we should face it together.” I simply nodded my hesitant response and he opened the door to let me in.

The place hadn’t changed at all since the last time I’d seen it the day Claire had died. Our table that we’d always sat at every time we came over was empty, and without realizing it I started walking over. Kellin followed behind me and we each slid into the booth. I couldn’t help but stare at the empty spot closest to the wall in the booth in front of me. Kellin hadn’t even scooted all the way in to the booth, a force of habit from years of Claire demanding to sit closest to the wall. “So,” I said, voice cracking as I tried to block the memories out of my mind, “How have you been?” Kellin released a dry chuckle, smiling bitterly as he shook his head. “I’ve been pretty busy,” he replied, “Had to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t break down for a bit, but then the HR person at work basically demanded I go to grief counseling because my emotions were apparently bad for morale and my writing wasn’t up to par anymore.”

“I’m so sorry, Kel,” I said without thinking, “I barely got out of bed after it happened. Couldn’t help but blame myself for what happened, and I figured you’d hate me for it.”

“I did for a while if I’m being honest. I hated you so fucking much because you were the reason she died and you just basically ran away from everyone afterwards. And then I realized that there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent her death, so then I just hated you for the running away thing.”

“I still blame myself, to be honest. If I had just focused on the case, I would’ve found that bastard faster and Claire would still be alive. You two would probably be married with like one and a half kids by now.”

“Hel, it’s not your fault. Claire knew the risks of being around you, especially when you were actively working. She was relentless in the best way possible, even if it ended up getting her killed. She wanted to go with you to interview the asshole’s family, and he killed her. You didn’t make her go with you, you didn’t make that guy be there, you didn’t make him stupid enough to make a simple theft charge turn in to a murder charge. Hell she probably would’ve followed you there even if you told her she couldn’t go.”

I knew he was right, and he knew I knew when I just looked down at the table, scratching my fingernail against the worn our grain of the wooden table just as I used to when I was thinking or had gotten my ass verbally handed to me by one of me best friends. A familiar waitress came over, but I didn’t recognize her until Kellin saw her and said, “Abs! You’re here!” Abby had been our usual server before the incident, and had even been invited to the funeral, though she hadn’t shown up. She looked understandably surprised to see us again. “Hey you two, it’s been awhile,” she said in her normal customer-service voice, though I noticed a tinge of sadness lurking behind her smile and happy words.

We ordered our sandwiches and coffee and waited for them to arrive. Kellin pulled out his laptop, a much newer and nicer one than he had a few years ago before he was some fancy hotshot editor. He twisted uncomfortably to plug his computer into the booth wall behind him instead of opting for the much more convenient outlet built in to the side of the table. Claire always used the table outlet, and I knew Kellin remembered that when he sighed sadly. The screen of his computer illuminated his sad expression in blue light with a quiet whir from the fans. “Does damn near everything still remind you of her,” he asked, not bothering to make eye contact. I nodded and tried to focus my sight on a chip in the table so I didn’t have to look around and see more reminders. Like the stain that undoubtedly was still on the light-cream walls from when she accidentally spilled the tray of all our drinks, or the accent wall that her and I had papered together to help modernize the place for the old man that used to own it. I tried not to think about the fact that she used to walk through the door and ask Abby if the old man had died yet, and that Claire had probably missed the awkward day when she’d walk in, as that, and be told yes. But she wouldn’t have missed a beat, she would’ve immediately switched from joking to comforting in a heartbeat just like she always did without even being phased by the awkward switch in conversation.

“Hel,” Kellin said insistently, looking at me with a worried look over the top of his laptop screen, “Are you ok? Do we need to leave?” I wiped the tears that had started slipping down my pale cheeks. “Yeah I’m fine,” I said, “Were you saying something?”

He nodded, “What was the favor you needed?”

I sniffled and tried to get my brain back into work-mode. “Oh um… my current contract is to find the late Lord of Fire’s son,” I said in a quiet voice, looking around at the few patrons around us, “And I found it weird that his name wasn’t in the tabloids or anything even though he was in them a lot before and now he’s missing. I was wondering if there was any order to keep the news of him being missing secret or something.”

“Let me look. Dorian Merrick, right?” I nodded, and he typed away at those freaky superhuman speeds he always typed at. “You’re right, it is kind’ve weird that there’s no mention of him. All the articles about him in our archives are gone too, which is outrageous, I’ve even edited some of the articles about him. What did he do to piss someone this high up off?”

“He stole the Amulet of Light and ‘absconded from his duties’.”

“Yeesh,” he said, before rubbing the back of his neck and getting an expression of worry on his face, “Listen, after what happened with Claire, I just don’t know how I feel about helping you out with a case this high profile.”

I nodded understandably, “Can you please at least keep an eye out for any information about him please? And let me know if you hear anything. I’m struggling with leads.”

As if timed by one of the gods, my phone vibrated on the table. It was a text from Bernie, “Meeting set up by my contact for 3pm sharp, in the old park by the warehouse compound the Barracks are in. Don’t be late or I will not help you again.” I chuckled at the reminder of the one time I was two hours late to a meeting he had set up for me. “Let me guess,” Kellin said with a small smile, “You’ve got to go?”

“It’s about the case, my brother set up a meeting with someone who knew Dorian. I’m so sorry.”

“Nah don’t worry about it,” Kellin said passively, “You did this shit all the time when Claire was alive, just please don’t be a stranger. And tell me when you’re going to be meeting the person and let me know when its over so I know you’re safe.”

“I 100% will Kellin, I promise. Thank you for talking to me.”

“Don’t mention it, Hely.”

[cipheramnesia]

Spots of blue and purple color wobbled across the floor of the derelict in front of Loren's stinging eyes. They watered up if he keep them open very far, and mostly all he could make out was a blur of pain that somehow had a smell. The nausea and ringing in his ears had faded, but this left him free to focus on the salty heat radiating from his face and eyes.

These were the times when being able to dislocate a shoulder came in handy. Loren greatly wished he could dislocate a shoulder.

With such luxuries unavailable, he settled for slowly working to his feet, using the narrow column for support, which he supposed technically meant whoever tackled him was going to shoot the Doc. If he'd met fewer murderers, Loren would guess the voice didn't sound particularly "murdery," but in a clutch there was never a reliable way to predict a killer.

It was a real moral dilemma, aside from Loren not feeling much concern about whether Doc survived to get her part of the salvage. There were other doctorates with far less hassle to compensate for the deficit of skill. He specced a few thousand Eagle Wing refugees would call it good riddance.

He found if he opened his eyes fully for a second and squeezed them shut immediately he could see where he was going. Was the pain lessening, or was he just getting used to it? Loren made slow, snapshot progress across the room, when he noticed his gloves and helmet dumped by the door.

The environmental stability protection suit was dead drained, probably had the unhooked. Loren began to walk to the gloves. If his luck was holding steady, they'd already drained their backup charge, but it was worth a painfully labor intensive try.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○

Backtracking was not working like it was supposed to. Nguyen locked around the dimly lit walls, which had looked so strange and distinctive not that long ago. The combination of system and biological and mechanical functions functions and material had not become less strange, but she was finding it difficult to tell areas apart.

Once she was certain she should have reached the octagonal chamber, she stopped to pull the data from the tagger. What should have been a simple line map of positions relative to the Paperclip was instead a scribbled child's drawing. She was at the very moment walking in a direction that showed intersections with several other marked lines. Nguyen pointed her hand the direction she'd come from. Flat walls, no turns.

"Okay Cat. Stay calm, think clearly. Think like a pilot, map it out." She slung the tagger and wired a direct line to one of her suit hubs. "Anyone there?" She went through several channels, including an emergency ship bounce. "Captain? Talbert? Scott? ... Doc?" Dead air. "Not my first maze. It's fine." She went forward more slowly, keeping a better eye on the marker for the Paperclip, stopping anywhere something looked like it could qualify as a door.

There was only so far to go in a straight line. She would outlast it one way other.

● ● ● ● ●

The overhead lights were too bright. She squeezed her eyes, trying to close them tighter, before covering her her face with her hand and groaning, which mostly rattled in her throat. Someone, Sy, said, "Laika?"

Laika decided the best course of action and put both hands over her head, them rolled over. "Mslep," she grumbled, lips felt dry. "Too bright." She was cold also, which was a weird thing to notice. Why wouldn't she feel cold? "Nyeh," she added, as she felt Sy grasp her shoulders in am extremely uncomfortable hug.

"Magnified!" another voice added. "Collectively new to the record, I must take measurements." Sharp, rough fingers started pinching her calves and jamming things which were cold and hard against her legs.

"Sy, this suuucks, wan sleep." She pulled her legs to her chest. "I'm naked Sy."

"Yeah, you ruined another tanktop and jeans."

An eye peeked up from behind her thumb. "Where are we? Panay? Quit poking! Who are you?"

"That's Doctor Blake."

"Sloane!"

"Doctor Sloane."

"Just Sloane! Not you too."

"Sy, how come I'm being poked by a woman named Sloane wearing a spacesuit over a cardigan?.Stop! No more!" Laika tried to shoo off the Doc by waving a foot, then irately yanked her toes out of the other woman's fingers. They felt like pliers.

Leaning back enough to let Laika sit up before wrapping an arm around her, he said, "She never saw a werewolf before, and I think your healing is interesting to her. I'm just glad it's finally kicking in."

Laika rubbed her face, frowned at the stubble. "Did someone shoot at us?"

"Yeah, a lot of people shot at us."

"Did I... did I kill anyone?"

"One for sure, maybe more."

"Did we take some time to ourselves in an overnight with a hot tub?"

"That part... no. Sloane, hold off for ten minutes?"

"It's Doctor Sloane if you please."

"Just a few minutes," he pleaded.

"Was there, um, hot pink lace lingerie?"

Sy stuttered a moment and looked intently at his fingernails, "No, nope. Just the killing people."

Laika frowned. "Always the murder, never the hot tub."

The Doc said, "I've found many useful items can be developed in tubs, often discorporate! I have several codexes of liquid refraction in systemic latice transposition!"

Sy said, "She saved your life, so."

"Ah." Laika looked down at the writing on her body. "Aha. And we met her...?"

"You did?!" Sloane, possibly Blake, looked excited beyond measure.

"You were out for a bit and we've got, um, some visitors. We stalled a bit because you almost died. Anyway, I thought since we're all here, we could try not murdering for a change."

"I need pants, and a shave." Laika rubbed her eyes again. "I promise you, a solid ninety-five percent of the time I don't do murders, it's just been a really bad week."

"I'll grab you some pants, but I want to let you know that five percent is still a lot of murdering percent, it's usually zero."

Doc said, "I'm allowed to murder again?"

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Part 3: Inveterate Scars

The only sound in the corridors of Genghis Khan was the slow throb of a giant breathing. It was barely audible, always just below the floor or walls, nearly vibration alone at times. Sy thought it sounded a little like the rush of a monorail through a long tunnel, perhaps. Nothing echoed along its walls or wide empty corridors, his own voice barely came back, his running footsteps reduced to thuds. The silence was the same kind he remembered from university libraries, where every word slipped into racks of data cartridges or soft carpet, anywhere it could hide to escape notice.

The bloodstains on GK's floors were browning, but the pool on the bridge was still a darkening, sticky red. It reeked of sour copper, and he hadn't had time to clean. He felt like he'd been walking for hours, screaming at GK to show him medical supplies. He couldn't even remember what he said, what GK said. Most of the emergency kit was empty, discolored spaces where whatever passed for bandages or antibacterial cream had vanished over time, but he clutched several rolls of polyplast-like material and a few metallic tubes that sloshed.

"There is no certainty these materials are safe for Laika's use," GK advised, while Sy staggered his way through the floor switch into her room.

More blood, not as much as the bridge, but enough. Her skin almost seemed to have a blue tinge, terrifyingly pale compared to her usual brown and olive undertones. He dropped what he held and put his hand under her nose. Faint, still breathing. The cactus thorns and torn clothes he'd tried to pull her wound together with seemed to have held enough for the moment. Some of the rags were starting to soak through.

"How do I use these?"

"She appears stable. It may more prudent to avoid the potential aggravation of her injury rather than undertake the risk of incompatible medical procedures."

"She isn't stable, she's bleeding more than breathing. These," Sy waved the rolled sheets, "look like bandages. Are they bandages?"

"..."

"GK if you don't tell me what they are I'm gonna try and figure it out by myself."

"They do not- Your words do not describe them well. They are biologically static shell component. The fluid component will permit structural permeation without deterioration."

"This sounds a lot like a bandage."

"Her- Laika does not share a compatible structure with a Pilot. It may prove beneficial to her injury, or it may eject her soul from this shell, may it find a stronger shell one day."

"Well I think that's going to happen anyway if we don't try something."

"I am also attempting to locate assistance."

"What do you- Nevermind. Show me how to use the thingy."

"Biologically static shell component. You will need to activate it with biologic matter to prime the component to the recipient structure."

Sy stuck his hand in Laika's blood and smeared the bandage. "Please don't die yet," he said. "You can't leave me alone with GK." He took a deep breath and began to unwind the bandages.

In the ever expanding void of space, and interlace of structure and system, Genghis Khan reached in its own way for help, hungry and waiting.

[orlaithrose]

When: 26th June Where: Treaty Towers  Who: @walledupward​

There was never going to be a good time to break into her father’s office, but Orlaith had been dancing around the matter for months. She was as eager today to push the matter into another day, week, month as she had been every day since the day she’d realised she couldn’t press forward in the search for her mother without undertaking this task. Still, there had been some benefit in waiting. It was always going to be difficult, but catching wind from the both too loud and too talkative guards assigned to her John Rose was off the island for the night on business was a notch in her favour. There was still the heavily guarded estate to contend with, but it was still her family home. She wasn’t banned from the house. On the contrary, she was quite welcome. Getting inside wouldn’t be a problem. The office would be the tricky bit. The dangerous bit. She had no real plan for that, it was hard to make one without getting inside and seeing the lay of the land, but she would work that out when she was in the house. Plans failed all the time. Perhaps winging it would work in her favour. 

The backpack was heavy and uncomfortable on her back whilst Orlaith took the lift down to the ground floor. It was filled with things she thought would be useful: a USB in case there was anything interesting on her father’s computer, a notebook to write anything down. Her phone with a camera so she could photograph any files of note. The fingerprint dust kit she planned to use to get into the safe she knew was in there. Ethereum, a small capsule of it, liquid luck. Drugs, taken from work, that could put someone to sleep a few minutes after they’d consumed them. Some bobby pins, for picking the lock on the door into her father’s safe haven. Not that she was particularly good at that, but she usually got there in the end, steadily and slowly. The downside being speed would be of the essence. Again, she would wing it. 

The lift began a shuddering halt, sooner than it ought to for the ground floor. It had hardly gone anywhere at all, Orlaith realised, when the doors slid open, and she saw her grumpy neighbour from the floor below, Tristan. She drifted into the corner, wordless, creating space so he could step in. She kept silent as the doors closed again, as the lift lurched back into life, as it began to descend again. Unusual for her, but she was too jittery about what she was about to do to get into anything with him. And then her mind began to whir. Could this be luck, before she took the Ethereum? Or the hand of fate, putting the help she hadn’t thought she might need until now in her path? Tristan seemed streetwise. He seemed like the sort of person who knew how to survive here, a hard job surrounded by Fae, and Werewolves, Sirens and Redcaps. Vampires too, looking for blood. 

Orlaith didn’t consider it might be selfish. If her brain could have strayed from even a moment from the momentous task she was about to undertake, she would have and not asked. But as ever when it came to her mother, she was stuck. There was no preamble when she spoke, no small talk, no friendly greeting. “Are you any good at breaking into places?” she asked. 

[mumscarian]

Recently saw the Venus Flytrap husbands hand holding post again (from Empires SMP - Scott Smajor/Jimmy Solidarity/Mythical Sausage, the ultimate enermies-to-lovers IMO) and just.

Mumscarian hand holding habits and quirks.

Scar just does it so naturally, most of the time not even realizing he's slipped his hand into Mumbo's or Grian's. It's like second nature to him; as soon as he's close enough to someone he considers a friend, his hand just... finds theirs. It isn't even romantic most of the time, just something reassuring to him that yes. This person is here. And they're my friend. They're keeping me safe and could catch me if I slip. Mumbo and Grian know this, of course, having been on the receiving end of it pre-relationship often enough, but to quell the jealousy they sometimes felt when seeing Scar holding hands with someone else (especially Cub or BDubs), Scar has agreed that with others, he'll not interlace his fingers with them. That's a thing he reserves for them, just a tiny bit of more closeness. And yes, Scar still talks with his hands (look me into the eye and tell me the guy doesn't at least a little bit talk with his hands), even while holding someone else's hand. This has lead to hilarious and sweet situations, where, pre-relationship, Scar would actually use that to flirt by twirling Mumbo or Grian, like they were dancing. It was very effective on Grian (birdie - dancing is special to him. If he dances with you out of free will, you know he considers you a close friend, or more.) Now that they're all one heaping pile of love, Scar will take the chance to simply place a kiss on the back of their hands once he notices. (And yes, this has happened more than once while he was holding both of their hands. Old habits die hard.)

Grian... for him, hand holding is something special. (Which made the hand holding jealousy he felt towards Cubs and BDubs even worse.) Because holding hands while you're flying is already difficult for a perfectly matched pair of skilled flyers, he mostly is limited to holding his lovers's hands on the ground. Which means that it literally keeps him on the ground. He doesn't mind most of the time, but sometimes, his wings itch after he's been on the ground for too long. (Also makes sleeping with him in the same bed interesting, because first thing Grian has to do, before anything else, is just fly. Even if it's just out of bed. He has woken up in the middle of the night because of itching. Grian never slept over, even when they were friends, until he felt like they wouldn't judge him for it.) Mumbo and Scar have gotten very good at reading Grian in that regard, and even better at naturally getting him to fly. Ask him to fetch them something, small random dare, or just a 'love, I need to continue working, you okay with that?' and Grian will let go of their hand, shoot them a grateful look and take up to the sky.

On the other hand, when Grian does initiate hand holding, it's special. He's binding himself to the ground voluntarily, because he loves them so much. Both Mumbo and Scar know this. And while Mumbo will let Grian be subtle with his declaration of love, acknowledging it with a simple squeeze of hands, Scar will not. Not now, not ever. Twirling Grian around, kissing his hand, actually saying that he loves Grian too - all things he does, even during meetings. It's a whole thing they have now, and Grian knows to expect it. Everyone's gotten so used to it they don't even register it anymore. If Scar doesn't do that whole thing, there's one of two things going on - one of them feels terrible, or one of them is unconscious. (If Mumbo is suspecting Scar to feel down, but not quite sure, he'll ask Grian to take Scar's hand. Luckily, Scar hasn't caught on yet.)

Now, Mumbo... he's the most normal in that regard out of the three. Healthy amount, asking when not certain, and pretty chill about it. He likes holding hands with his boyfriends (even though thinking of them as such and actually calling them his boyfriends still flusters him), but he's not distraught like Scar when it's not happening. He doesn't have to be holding their hand constantly when they'te just chilling together, but doesn't mind it when Scar takes his hand out of habit. He actually thinks Scar is really cute for that; and though he won't tell him while sober, Scar just always taking his hand is what made him realize his feelings for him.

However.

There are two situations where Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo gets absolutely soft for hand holding.

First is when he's cuddling with someone. May that be sitting on a couch or actual bed, it just makes his heart flutter and his stomach do flips. It can be a bit difficult sometimes (lying in bed, for example), but he still appreciates it immensely.

The second is when dancing. And I don't mean club dancing, but slow dancing. Waltzing. He learned it because he thought it suited - no pun intended - his image, and actually grew to enjoy it. (And while it at times seems a bit stiff for someone like Grian, Grian can appreciate it as well.) Mumbo loves dancing with Grian or Scar - and is trying to figure out how the three of them can dance together - and interwinding his fingers with theirs, keeping them even more locked together.

Mumbo especially loves dancing with Scar, because it happens a bit rarely. Scar llves to dance, but his body doesn't always allow him too. Yes, he has his magical braces, but they take quite some energy from him, and only work perfectly on low-pain days. (Hence why Scar is so clumsy and trips over seemingly everything - Grian and Mumbo stopped making fun of him once they learned that the worse the pain is, the more difficult it is to control his braces. Now they just hold his hand and allow him to inconspicuously lean on them as much as he wants to.) And Scar doesn't want to constantly step on Mumbo's toes - even though Mumbo has made some steel-capped shoes and said it's fine - so they only get to Waltz together on Scar's really good days. And Mumbo loves it every time.

Geez, that got long.

Anyways. Hand holding, my beloved.

What do ya think?

anon i am completely floored by this ask. hooly shit this is AMAZING. ive had this sitting in my inbox for a couple days (low spoons+im just busy lmao) and now ive finally read it and HHOOLY SHIT!! to all of this: yes. yes i love this. and!!! Dancing!!!!! i might have mentioned this before but i had a HUGEEE waltz/ballroom dancing hyperfixation at the beginning of the year. I started writing a fic about it even, but i kinda got sidetracked lol. anyways YES. fuck yeah. this is epic. kudos to you anon omg.

[xreaderbooks]

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707​ ,@theworthlessqueen​ ,@ciciakai​ ,@rockinginneverland​

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[lovely-angst]

single dad!dabi

a/n: i KNOW dabi’s cannonly(?) can’t cry, but let’s just ignore that fact in this fic :^) also ty for waiting patiently for me to post! <3

genre: angst

pairing: dabi x f!reader

summary: dabi had started a family with you, but when he suddenly becomes a single father, now what?

word count: 2.4k

06.29.21

-

The sounds of an infant cry filled the small apartment as the night grew on. The sun had long gone and the moon filled its place in the sky as the city fell into a slumber—it seemed as if the only ones up were Dabi and the small child in his arms. 

Her mouth opened wide as her powerful cries rang in Dabi’s ears as he tried cooing the young girl back to sleep. A bounce in his step as he paced around the small bedroom he shared with his three-month-old daughter, Aya. 

Dabi tried shushing her gently, attempting to soothe her, but to no avail. 

He felt as if he was going crazy. He had tried everything at this point—a warm bottle, a change of fresh diaper, heck, even some snuggles, but nothing seemed to work. 

Dabi could feel his eyes sting with upcoming tears as his frustrations grew and grew. Setting Aya down in her crib, her wails grew louder before Dabi turned around and slumped against the crib, defeated. 

Reaching over towards his nightstand, Dabi gently picked up the photo of you before bringing it closer towards him, his glossy eyes running across your familiar features before he brought his large hands towards his face.

And cried. 

He cried and cried and cried.

“I can’t do this, (Name),” he sobbed into your photo, his wails mixing in with those of his daughter’s. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t help Aya, she needs you,” he stated, pulling back to stare at your photo once more. 

“I don’t know how to do this without you. You were supposed to be here with us—we were supposed to do this together,” his cries had died down, allowing him to wipe the photo dry of his tears. 

Leaning his head back on the crib, Dabi’s eyes roamed over the small bedroom. It was messy, just as messy as his life was currently without you. Picking up one of your shirts from the floor, Dabi let the fabric rest in his hands before bringing it up to his chest to hold. 

It still faintly smelled like you.

His daughter’s cried came back to his ears and Dabi stood back up, tucking the shirt in his young daughter’s arms before watching her cries gently soothe away from your scent. 

“Yeah,” Dabi started, bending down to pick his daughter up before bringing her towards the bed with him, “I miss her too.”

-

It felt like yesterday when you told Dabi you were pregnant. It came as a shock to him of course—he was just hitting his twenty-fifth birthday and he was about to become a dad?

He was never really the one to think about kids or even having kids himself—but that all changed once you came into the picture. 

“I know you’re scared, I’m scared too,” you say, grabbing hold of his hands before giving him the prettiest shy smile, “but if I’m honest, I’m really excited to become a mom. I love you so much, Dabi. I can’t wait to love our baby.”

You were so excited and he couldn’t help but anticipate the day his baby would be born. 

Dabi knew you would be a great mother. On the other hand, he was nervous—but if you were going to put in all this effort to love and raise this baby with someone like him, then Dabi knew he had to give it his all too. 

He’ll make sure that his child lives a better life than he ever will. 

He decided to cut his ties with the league, ending his time as a highly wanted villain. It wasn’t easy getting Shiggy to agree, but with a little bit of convincing and a little explanation about his tragic backstory, Shiggy finally agreed. 

If he was going to be a dad, he wanted to do it right. 

Everything was going great throughout the pregnancy. Dabi was there for you as much as he could, helping you, providing for you and his baby. Basking in those little moments of realizing that he was going to be a dad. 

Reality began to hit when you had gone into labor. It would have been fine if Dabi were a normal citizen, but Dabi was a villain and because of that, he wasn’t able to be with you when you were giving birth in the hospital. 

It crushed him more than you could have known—to have his unofficial wife alone during such a difficult, excruciatingly painful and life-changing journey. There were times Dabi wished he could be a normal citizen like you, and this was one of those times. 

It wasn’t until you got discharged a few days later when Dabi was able to see you again. It was also the first time Dabi had gotten to see his baby. 

You were finally back in the apartment, Dabi helping you up the stairs to the apartment as he eyes the little bundle in your arms. “You can hold her too, you know,” you say with a smile when you caught him staring for the millionth time.

“Her?” Dabi asked voice caught in his throat. “Welcome Aya to the world,” you say, placing her in his arms the moment the two of you sat on the couch together. 

His breathing stopped the moment Aya was placed in his arms. She was tiny. Dabi didn’t know that humans came this small. He was scared of accidentally breaking her, and from the way you laughed, he could tell you knew. 

Dabi watched you closely as you taught him how to carefully bathe her, change her, feed her, and even burp her. He remembered the times your laughter would fill the air whenever Aya spit up all over him, or even the times her little body was able to create such a smelly masterpiece for him. 

He always thought he would hate being a father, yet here he was. Sleeping soundly with his baby girl.

Three months into having his baby girl were some of the best days of his life. Sure they were tough and going off practically no sleep was rough, but he wouldn’t trade this domestic life for anything. 

It made him feel like a normal person.

But all good things come to an end.

As Dabi strolled along during one of his scouting missions, his phone rang and vibrated in his pockets before he reached in for it. He really only had the phone, so you could contact him if you were in some deep waters, which he hoped would never happen.

To his surprise, it wasn’t you who called, but Hawks.

“What? You better have a good reason for calling, or I’ll-”

“It’s about (Name),” Hawks cuts off, “you better come quick,” and with that, Hawks ended the call, leaving Dabi’s thoughts unanswered. A small ping resonating in the air as Hawks left him with a single address.

Though Hawks’ call was brief and left a lot for Dabi to figure out himself, he knew it bad news awaited him. He just hoped it wasn’t as terrible as his thoughts led him to. 

“What was so urgent?” Dabi asked as soon as he stepped around the corner of an empty alleyway only to find Hawks’ red wings filling his sight. “Where’s (Name)?” 

As soon as your name left Dabi’s lips, Dabi could see the way Hawks’ feathers shifted before the winged man himself, turned towards Dabi, finally giving him the view of what he most dreaded. 

There you lay—eyes closed and chest unmoving. Dabi’s eyes widened before he ran towards your body, where thankfully, it rested on Hawks’ thick jacket and not on some dirty alleyway like this. 

“(Name)? Hey, wake up, I’m here,” Dabi tried, gently shaking your shoulders and brushing your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“Dabi,” Hawks started, voice strained, “she’s gone.” 

Those words seemed so unreal that if Dabi blocked them out of his head, then it surely wouldn’t be true. Stared at your limp body in front of him, it was all just a bad dream.

“I...I was with her during her last moments. I found her while on patrol, it was a gunshot wound,” he informed, watching Dabi caress your cheek. 

“I made sure she left peacefully, I talked about you to her.” Hawks tried, “and she smiled. She told me to tell you to take care of Aya for her.” 

As Dabi turned around, his eyes quickly focused on Aya, who was sound asleep in Hawks’ arms. Taking a step forward, Hawks placed Aya in Dabi’s arms before Dabi began quietly sobbing while clutching his daughter.

Hawks had never seen Dabi look so broken and desperate before and it was quite painful to see. Villain or not, Hawks never wanted anybody to go through this. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Dabi.” 

Though the two weren’t good buddies in any way, they both had you in common. As much as it hurt to see you go, Dabi asked Hawks to take you away and give you a proper burial as you deserve. And Hawks didn’t bat an eye at his request. 

Giving you one last final kiss goodbye, Hawks lifted you in his arms, ready to take flight. “Hey,” Hawks starts, catching Dabi’s attention, “if you ever need anything for Aya, just let me know.” 

Dabi couldn’t help the slight curl in the corner of his mouth at Hawks’ words. “I don’t want to owe favors.” 

Hawks smiled back at the man in front of him, throwing his visor on, “You don’t have to worry, she’s in good hands,” and with that, his large red wings spread and he took flight into the air with you. 

And it was the last time Dabi would ever get to see you.

-

It had nearly been a month since you left—Dabi doing his very best trying to raise Aya as a single father. It was hard. No, more than hard. Being a single father to a three-month-old with no mother was the most challenging thing Dabi has ever done. 

And he was starting to doubt his abilities as her father. He was running low on money to provide for Aya and himself, and there would be days where she just wanted you instead, which would break his heart. 

Dabi felt like a failure; to you and Aya. 

As he cradled a drowsy Aya on his chest, Dabi glanced over at the fridge that held up a little note with an address written on it—the location you were resting at.

Hawks had sent that note to him, but Dabi had never mustered up the courage to come out and see you. He didn’t want you to see him like this, struggling to his core. Because if you were here, he knew he wouldn’t be struggling like this.

But for some reason, that note was calling out to him. 

Walking into the bedroom, Dabi began searching the closet where Aya’s dresses were hung up. Holding her small body in one of his arms, he went through each little outfit with a slight smile on his face. 

You loved shopping for Aya, and all of these cute outfits were the product of that. 

Taking a dress off the rack, he held it up before glancing down at Aya, “Do you think your mama will like this on you?” His low voice vibrated through his chest and onto Aya, causing her to open her beautiful blue eyes up at him.

She glanced over at the outfit before making a face, tears filling her eyes and Dabi immediately out the dress back. “Your mama always did say I had bad fashion sense.” he chuckled before searching for a new outfit. 

And did he find the perfect one. 

Setting Aya down on the bed, he changed her into the outfit before smiling at her once he laid eyes on her fully dressed little chubby body. Boy, did you and him make a cute kid. 

“Okay, let’s go. Mama’s waiting.” 

Before making his way to you, Dabi bundled himself up well in his wind breaker, mask, sunglasses, and gloves. He took the less populated route, but he couldn’t avoid everybody. Thankfully, Aya was able to distract them from the fact that they were beside a wanted villain. 

Dabi followed Hawks’ instructions on the note before finding himself in front of your grave as he entered the cemetery. His heart fell from the reality of the situation—being here in person just made it all the more real that you were gone. 

Placing the flowers that he got you down in the little holder, he let out a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry it took so long to come see you, (Name).” 

His eyes continuously read over your name engraved into your tombstone as he sat down with a heavy heart, “It’s so hard doing this without you, you know? Aya really needs you.” 

Dabi didn’t want to seem like he was complaining to you, never. He had a lot on his chest, and simply, he missed talking to you. 

He went on about his days and the new milestones Aya has been hitting, telling you how much you would’ve loved to see her smile. “She looks so much like you, it’s crazy. Even though she’s just three months old, I’m glad she does.” 

It was weird to Dabi how much peace this was bringing him. Yes, he knew you were no longer with him, but talking to you like this, being with you like this, made it seem like you never left his side. 

With a final sigh, Dabi leaned over and pressed a kiss on your tombstone, bring Aya closer so she could also mirror his actions, “I love you,” he whispered, brushing his fingers across your engraved name, “we’ll be back soon.” 

It was quite an experience there, a healing one. Dabi knew his struggles and knew that he needed to reach out for help, and talking to you gave him the courage to do so. He didn’t want to seem weak, but building this strength to ask for help, made him stronger than anyone else. 

So, Dabi walked until he reached a familiar place and when he stepped inside and the eyes of his old comrades focused on him, his shoulders softened. 

“Thought you’d never come back,” Toga said with a toothy smile as she ran over to hug her old friend, “sorry to hear about (Name).” 

“So, this is what’s kept you so busy,” Kurogiri states as he glanced down at the little girl in Dabi’s arms. A hand landed on Dabi’s shoulder and he turned and noticed those bright red wings of the pro hero, “It’s nice to have you back. (Name) would be happy to see you like this.” 

Though they may be seen as criminals from the outside view, Dabi knew these would love and support his baby girl with their lives—and that’s all that mattered.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you’re prince harry’s personal bodyguard.

a/n: hi angels! i’m SO EXCITED to be finally sharing this story, and i’m really proud of this piece! like it’s genuinely one of my favorites i’ve ever written and one of my babies, so i can’t wait to hear what you all think! this story is inspired by gold rush by taylor swift, and this story immediately came to me once i heard the song. so, enjoy and please reblog and leave feedback! 

thank you to my best beta and friend tina @sunflowers-styles​ and miss zoey @serendipitystyles​ who screamed with me when i just started writing it, ily both! 

WORD COUNT: 24.7k of prince!harry x guard!yn (it’s gonna be a rollercoaster <3) 

WARNINGS: ANGST (genuinely a lot of it), smut, mentions of death and disease 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SINKING SHIPS’ i’d love to know your thoughts! 

pls rb to share! <3

.・。.・゜

‘Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in.’ 

With a slight groan, you were taken out of your slumber by the sunlight that was seeping through your curtains. The birds were chirping away quite loudly this morning—acting like there weren’t people who were sleeping at seven in the morning, but early birds get the worm, right?

You sat up, stretching your arms towards the ceiling as you let out an inhumane sound that was very ‘unladylike’ before freshening up in the restroom. After putting on your regular and daily uniform: black slacks, white crisp shirt with a black tie, and black formal shoes—you opted out on wearing a blazer since you were going to be out for most of the day—before you headed towards the kitchen that felt like miles away because the Royal House was huge. 

The chefs were already up, bright and early, ready to feed the Royal family. The aroma of French toast and sautéed vegetables filled your senses, making your mouth water. 

“Morning, everyone!” You greeted happily once you entered the kitchen. 

“Goodmorning, Y/N!” The chefs welcomed you into their kitchen in sync. You softly smiled, walking over to the fruit basket at the edge of the marble counter, grabbing a banana and orange before walking over to the island and leaning your elbows on it as you watched the chefs cook. 

You always loved watching them work on their art, it was quite mesmerizing—the way they sautéed the vegetables, tossing the contents into the air was always something you loved ever since you were young. They were always so proud and humble about their work, presenting it with a satisfied smile as satiated empty stomachs. 

Suddenly, the side door opened, revealing Maria tugging on the wagon that carried basketfuls of fresh vegetables and fruits. You quickly walked towards her, grabbing the basket from the wagon to set it down on the counter. The baskets were always quite heavy, and you always made sure to help her out every morning since she wakes up at sunrise to pick out and wash the produce for the day. 

“Thank you, my dear,” Maria said, smiling. 

“Of course, Maria. These are beautiful.” You handpicked vegetables and fruits. “One day, I’ll wake up earlier to help you out in the morning, so you’re not all by yourself,” you suggested. Maria was like a mother to you, and you truly looked up to her ever since you started to remember things. You never really knew who your real mom was because she had passed away when you were just a year old, so you saw Maria as a motherly figure. 

You remembered when you first visited the Royal House; your father, Josiah, used to be a stableman and would bring you to work with him every day, occasionally letting you ride on the horses with him if it was allowed. Josiah and Maria had a mutual liking towards one another, but neither of them had acted upon it. They had just simply acknowledged the fact they had feelings for one another. So, you were around Maria a lot, and it wasn’t forced because you genuinely took a liking towards her and she started becoming a female figure in your life that you never really had. 

“Oh, you’re so sweet, but that’s not needed. I know how exhausting your day is, so get those few extra hours of sleep, okay?” She raised her brows at you, and you chuckled, nodding your head at her. “And besides, I’ve actually got some help…” she trailed off in suspense. 

It was your turn to raise your brows at her. “Really? And who might that be?” A tint of pinkness hit Maria’s cheeks as she looked down, occupying herself by taking the produce out of the basket. 

“Just…Nathaniel.” 

“Nathaniel, really?” 

“Yeah, he’s nice, yeah? Handsome. Funny. Kind,” she started to sound like she was convincing you, but you really didn’t need all that much convincing because you actually knew him.

“I know Nathaniel, but thanks for the little recap,” you joked, chuckling as Maria blushed. “So, do you like him?” You asked. 

“I mean…I don’t know. Maybe,” she admitted shyly. You gave her an encouraging smile because you knew that she was only shy to confess the truth because she had been in love with your father. 

“Good—that’s good. Well, if you are taking a liking towards him, don’t run away from your feelings,” you told her sternly as if you were the mother now. “You deserve to be happy and in love!” 

“Suppose you’re right. I just feel…bad.” 

“Don’t be. He would want you to be happy, I promise,” you reminded Maria. 

You could definitely understand why she felt bad about the fact that she was interested in Nathaniel. Maria and Josiah were in love, once upon a time, but ever since your father passed away two years ago, due to his heart condition, it was difficult for Maria to move on from the love of her life. With regret wilting down on her face, she asked herself why she didn’t bother to do anything about her love for him, and she didn���t know if it was the right thing to do to be interested in someone else. However, you constantly reminded her that Josiah wanted you two to have a great life, containing a lot of love and laughter. 

Looking at the wall clock above the chocolate brown cabinets, you realized that it was a bit past seven, so duties for the day were calling. You kissed Maria on the cheek, telling her that you’ll see her during lunch before bidding the rest of the staff goodbye as you headed out of the kitchen

Your clad black shoes clicked against the shiny and polished tiled floor, echoing the corridor of the Royal House as you walked towards the West Wing of the house; the staff and employees all lived on the East Wing, and it was quite a walk from one end to the other. 

Knocking on the tall and heavy door, you heard absolute silence on the other side, which wasn’t abnormal. So, you knocked once more, hearing no movement before you allowed yourself inside of the bedroom of the Prince. 

As you expected, he was sprawled out onto his large bed, too large for one person, with his curls covering his forehead. His mouth was slightly agape with puffs of breaths coming out as he was in deep sleep. You opened the long curtains, letting the sunshine enter his room before walking over to the side of his bed, placing the two fruits on his bedside table so he could fuel himself as he’s getting ready; you gently tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Your Highness, It’s time to wake up,” you softly said. With no response, you shook his shoulder a bit harder to get him out of his deep slumber. “Your Highness, it’s past seven.” 

The Prince groaned, eyes still closed as he began to writhe around the bed. You took a step back from the bed, waiting for him to wake up fully before greeting him. He buried his face into the pillow, refusing to budge, as an exhausted muffled groan came out of his mouth. 

Once his eyes were fully open and he was aware of his surroundings and consciousness, he turned his head towards you, giving you a look as if to momentarily remember who you were; you gave him a smile to start off his day. 

“Good Morning—agh!” You let out an unexpected squeal, cut off by the Prince’s large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you down onto the bed with him. His lips immediately attacked your neck and face, peppering your skin with his affection. You laughed softly, trying to keep your voice down in case anyone heard you, but you couldn’t help it because it tickled. “Your Highness!” You pushed his body away from yours, and you knew he only pulled back because of the name you had called him. 

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that, Princess,” he joked slightly. 

You raised your brows, mouth slightly open as you playfully patted his chest. “And I told you to stop calling me that, Harry.” 

“Then I’ll stop calling you that once you stop calling me ‘Your Highness,’” he said in a mocking tone before he raised his brows to see what you were going to respond with because he knew that you loved being called ‘Princess’ even if you were far from actually becoming one. You two would have these playful arguments on which nicknames to call one another, and ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Highness’ were both a bit of an inside joke now. 

You simply just rolled your eyes. “Not fit to be a Princess.” Harry’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist as both of your heads rested against the same pillow. You loved mornings like these, and although it was unusual to be sleeping in different rooms, it had to happen under certain circumstances. 

“You definitely are fit enough to be a Princess because you’ll be mine…soon…one day,” he lightened up the air, pressing a kiss to your cheek and forehead. “Perfect for me, I swear.” You smiled admiringly at the Prince, feeling incredibly grateful for him and his presence. 

For five years, your love for him had only increased when you thought that your heart couldn’t get any bigger. But Harry somehow made it happen; he filled your beating organ with so much love and devotion, making you feel so overwhelmed with happiness that you felt like you could burst any minute. You’ve known Harry since you were a little girl, but you didn’t play with him much since you had to stay close to Josiah. But when you did, you two would always go riding together; it was an innocent and pure friendship, and even when you were younger, you would find yourself missing your friend, who just so happened to be the Prince of the country. 

Five-year-old Y/N simply understood that he was a Prince, but you understood it just like the Disney movies. So, you and seven-year-old Harry would play Prince and Princess for fun. Every morning you would tell Josiah to dress you up in a pretty dress because your “Prince was waiting on the West Wing,” as you said. 

As the years went by and you two played less of Prince and Princess, but you and Harry were still inseparable. He was your best friend—still is, and you couldn’t be more happy that you two had never drifted off into the fog that vanishes every afternoon. 

With how close you were to Prince Harry, you realized you had feelings for him when you were thirteen, and it wasn’t until you were twenty when you two got together. Harry had told you that he’s liked you since he was seven, and fifteen years later, he finally had the balls to tell you. Typically for some, it wouldn’t be the most ideal relationship since your blood didn’t bleed royalty, but you’d rather have him in private rather than displaying your relationship to the entire world, especially his family. 

The bubble that was his room, was your hideout. The sanctuary where you felt most comfortable because it was where he slept in, as his scent roamed around the room, making it feel like home. You loved how you immediately felt safe and calm when you opened his bedroom room door, especially when you saw him peacefully sleeping; it was your favorite thing to do. 

Harry didn’t mind, either. He knew how brutal his family could be if they ever found out about your relationship with him, and no matter how much he wanted to shout his love for you from the top of his lungs to the world, they truly didn’t need that because the only people who were the most important in this relationship were you and Harry. As long as the two of you knew that you were in love with one another, that’s all that mattered. 

He was there for you for most of your life, and with a clueless mind, you didn’t know where you would be without him when your father had died. Since Josiah was working for the Royal Family with your occasional help, you had thought the Queen and King were going to kick you out because you had no place or purpose staying in the Royal House. But luckily, Harry quickly proposed the idea of you being his personal bodyguard. Someone who just followed him around while making him seem less lonely because the other men that were his guards before rarely said a word to him when he was out. 

The Dutch and Duchess, and especially the Queen, were a bit skeptical, but let him have his way to avoid any sort of resentment in the future. You were ecstatic and thanked him profusely for letting you stay at the Royal House, but he brushed it off, telling you that he would’ve asked a million times more until they said yes.

 So, for two years now, you’d been Harry’s personal bodyguard, and you thought it was the easiest job. One, because even if you weren’t his bodyguard, you’d protect him with your life, putting yourself in front of him when chaos would come his way. Two, he made the job seem fun and it didn’t even seem like a job because you two laughed and messed around from time to time, not actually doing work. And three, who doesn’t love working with their partner?

“Is that a promise?” You tested him, seeing if he was willing to promise you that he was going to marry you. It didn’t seem possible if you were honest. Either he would have to run away from home or you two wouldn’t get married at all, and just stay together, which you wouldn’t mind either. 

“That’s definitely a promise. You know me—don’t say shit just to say it,” he said, a smug smile on his face. 

“Okay, well. Whenever that day comes, I’ll be waiting to become Mrs. Styles.” 

“Princess Styles,” he corrected, and you breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head a tad bit as you surrendered your argument on him calling you that. 

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying his presence and warmth; and for a moment, you had forgotten yours and Harry’s responsibilities for the day; you just enjoyed this small and quiet moment you two had together that only usually happened in the mornings. But you cherished them nonetheless. 

Nearly drifting off to sleep, you jolted to stay awake. You looked at Harry to see him looking at you with a small but fond smile on his face, eyes gleaming ever so brightly as the sun gently cast its light through his window from above his bed. 

You gave him a quick kiss to his lips and nose before getting out of his hold, earning a groan from him. You stood beside the bed, smoothing out any wrinkles that creased on your clothing. 

“C’mon, we have so much to do today! Plus, we’ve already exceeded morning bedtime hours.” You grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the edge of the bed. He sighed, resisting as he pulled back. 

“Don’t wanna do anything today. Just wanna lay in bed all day with my Princess.” His words came out muffled as he spoke into the pillow. Your cheeks heated up as you held his arm; you wished that you’d get the chance to spend the entire day with him, doing nothing instead of keeping a distance from him throughout the day. But alas, being with him for most of the day was still what you considered a wonderful day. 

“Let’s go,” you softly insisted. You kneeled down onto the floor beside him, pecking his face all over. The left side of his face was smashed against the mattress, but you could see the smile forming onto his face as you kissed his cheeks. “Get up, dreamy.” You used your nickname on him, and you realized that was a bad idea since you were trying to get him out of bed. 

Harry suddenly perked up, smirking before he turned around to lay on his back. He pulled your arm, hauling you to lay on top of him; you giggled once you landed on him, and he connected his lips with yours, kissing you passionately and sensually. Your legs were straddling him, and you unconsciously ground against his sleep pants, feeling his bulge grow harder and bigger. Harry softly moaned into your mouth, slightly bucking his hips upward towards your center. 

You pulled away, about to tell him that you couldn’t do this right now, but once you saw his flushed face and swollen pink lips, not to mention his aching hard-on that was rubbing against your thigh, you decided against it. 

And Harry knew you all too well to know that you were going to say something but held back. So, instead, he grimaced and wrapped his arms around your waist before trailing them down to your ass, giving it a squeeze over your pants. 

“Think we got time for this?” He raised his brows teasingly at you, and you bit your lip. 

Grinding your hips against him was your way of giving him your answer, your mouth met his ear as you whispered, “All the time in the world for you to fuck me.” You nibbled on his earlobe before moving your lips down to the spot under his ear, resulting in a moan slipping out of his mouth. 

He flipped you two over, now his turn to hover over you. The Prince gave you a certain look that you knew all too well; it was a look of certainty like he had all the time in the world to have his way with you, and he definitely wasn’t going to shy away from it. 

“Wanna feel me? Think you could handle me?” He challenged teasingly. His voice was low, raspy, and deep—much deeper now since it was morning and he’d just woken up. But the way he spoke sent a shiver down your neck, making you jerk, causing a mess in your panties. 

“Know I could handle you. I’ve been handling you for years now,” you smirked. A flushed tint rose onto Harry’s cheeks; he always seemed to feel himself get giddy over the fact that you two had been together for years, and hearing it come out of your mouth made it much better. 

“Let’s see about that.” He began to kiss down your neck and body as you relaxed into the pillow, completely enjoying his lips and body on you. 

And just like all the other days, it was going to be a long morning. But the early birds get the worm, right? 

Harry headed towards the dining room where his family was eating breakfast. They all looked up at him suspiciously, like they knew about his morning escapade with his Princess, and he was nearly gutted because they had gotten caught, but they simply just looked at him and continued eating. 

“Morning everyone,” he relaxed, clearing his throat as he took his seat, unbuttoning his black suit jacket; a light pink button-down shirt clad on his tattooed torso. The servers that had been serving them for decades, Mariah and Deborah, poured him a tall glass of water and set down his mug of coffee. He thanked them, and they gave him a smile, always surprised to receive a ‘thank you’ in the Royal House. But Harry wasn’t snobby or arrogant, he had manners and was polite. 

“A bit late to breakfast, Harry, and you didn’t show for morning tea,” the Queen herself had pointed out. Elaine hadn’t even made eye contact with him, she just continued eating as she sat at the head of the table. 

Harry froze for a moment to look at his sister to see if she’ll help, but Gemma just raised her brows, not knowing how to back him up. 

“Sorry, Nan. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I slept in a little bit,” Harry lied. 

“Hmm, and where was that bodyguard of yours to wake you up? Isn’t she supposed to wake you?” She wondered, but by her tone, it was like she knew already; and Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case. 

“Uh, yeah. She did, actually, and I told her to give me a moment. Guess that turned into forty-five…” he curled his lips in, containing the smirk that was begging to show through. His cheeks formed a tint, and he quickly grabbed his glass of water to cool down and to cover his flustered face. 

The two of you had stayed in bed longer than anticipated, and when it was only supposed to be a quickie, Harry took his time with you the first round but decided to go two more rounds, fucking you hard until your teeth were biting the sheets and screaming into the pillow. You had to cover all of the marks that littered his neck, but the others that only you were able to see were casually resting under his clothes. 

Harry shifted in his seat, remembering how your eyes looked up at him as you kissed down his body to wrap your lips around his cock. His mind was spiraling, immediately thinking filthy things your mouth and body could do to him; that was until Gemma had kicked his foot under the table that got him out of his head. 

He looked at her, flicked his head at her, a way to ask ‘what was that for?’ She tilted her head towards the Queen as Elaine was still talking to Harry. 

“Okay, just wanted to make sure she’s doing something right. If not, you let me know, and we’ll have her removed from the House,” she advised quite sternly. 

“There’s no need for that, Nan. There hasn’t been a problem for the last two years she’s been my guard, so there certainly won’t be,” Harry explained quickly. He didn’t know if his eagerness sold his disagreement, or if it helped his case with his secret relationship with you. But he didn’t want you to leave his side, let alone, leave the House. He wanted you here, and if having you in private was the only way, where you two had to sneak around and kiss behind closed doors, then he didn’t mind that.

Elaine nodded, letting go of the subject before talking to the Dutch, Harry’s father, about some of the duties that needed to be completed today. Harry let out a sigh of relief once the Queen’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. He ate his breakfast in silence, thankful that the conversation he had with his grandmother didn’t go any further than a bit of scolding; he would say it was going to be a good day if they went a morning without Harry marching off early from breakfast. 

Breakfast went on quickly after that, thankfully. Mariah and Deborah began to clean the table before setting up a few cups of coffee for his mother, father, and the Queen. Harry and Gemma excused themselves, saying they had a few things to do for the day before they quickly walked out of the kitchen. 

The siblings rounded the corner and walked until they were far enough before Gemma spoke, not wanting their family to hear their conversation from the echo because of how large their home was. 

“You really need to be careful, H—the both of you, I mean it. Staying in with Y/N can’t happen consistently—I feel like she’s starting to get suspicious. ” Gemma started. She had a concerned expression as the part in between her brows creased. 

Harry sighed, nodding his head. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We’ll try to be more careful. It’s just hard, y’know.” 

“I understand. I get it, I really do,” Gemma sighed before chuckling as if a realization had popped into her head. “Hell, I’m doing the same thing, but I’m just better at hiding it,” she chuckled.” It was true; Gemma was in a relationship with one of the servers—Sebastian. 

They’d been together for seven years, ever since she was twenty-three. She kept it a secret for three years until she decided to tell Harry, which of course, Harry was ecstatic to hear the news—only because he had just told his sister about his own relationship, which you two had only been together for a year at that time. 

Gemma and Harry were supportive of one another, looking out and covering up for each other because at the end of the day, they were on the same side and in the same situation; neither of them wanted the other to get caught because there would be worse consequences coming from the Queen, and the two tried to avoid those said consequences as much as possible. 

Naturally, Gemma loved you. You’d grown closer to her and seen her as a best friend, someone you could always go to and count on. The appreciation you had for her was vast, and you thanked her almost every day for how grateful you were that she was so supportive in your relationship with Harry. 

“Thanks for kicking me back there, though. Didn’t need another morning where Nan flames my ass,” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly. 

Gemma laughed. “Yeah, don’t know why she’s picking fights with you. She used to love you, wonder what changed,” she wondered, genuinely thinking what the cause may be. 

“Don’t know what it is, but if you know, tell me because I can’t always eat my meals stressed because she’s always onto me.” Gemma giggled. “Anyways, gotta go. I’ll be at the charity event until late afternoon, and I gotta find my girl. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you. I’ll wait for you to eat dinner, so you’re not alone. Have a good day, little brother, be safe.” The Styles siblings hugged, a nice and warm embrace that showed much appreciation and respect they had for the other. 

“You as well, big sister.” 

Harry walked in the opposite direction as Gemma, smiling to himself as his heart felt so full. He was lucky to have a sister that was so encouraging and caring, and he always made sure to give the same love back to her because she needed it. Their parents were always a bit strict on them, but he was sure they had to have gotten that attitude from the Queen—well, at least his father. His mother, Anne, was a sweetheart. For some odd reason, she didn’t show much love to her kids because of Elaine. When they were kids, Nan would always get on Anne’s case about how she shouldn’t show them much affection or treat them like babies because they needed to learn discipline and from their own mistakes. 

Walking over to the East Wing and past the kitchen, Harry headed towards the living area, where some of the staff, including you, were hanging out, waiting for the Royal Family to finish their breakfast. One of his father’s guards immediately stood up, making the rest hastily stand up to greet the Prince. 

“Your Highness…” The staff greeted in sync; the men bowed as the women curtsied as Harry stood in the doorway of the living room. His eyes found yours, watching you curtsy; and on your way up, your head perked up, shyly smirking at him. Harry’s heart flipped as he puckered his lips to the side, containing his smile; you two would always laugh about these kinds of greetings, and sometimes Harry would greet you the same way because after all, were his Princess. He wasn’t one to be formal with greetings, and if it were up to him, he would tell the entire staff to stop greeting him like that, but he didn’t make the rules around here. 

“Goodmorning, everyone,” he greeted back. “Hope everyone has a great day. I should get going, though. Y/N?” He looked at you and slightly raised his brows. You walked across the living room and past him, standing before him before making sure to give him a smile. He bid everyone goodbye before you two walked alongside one another. 

The two of you headed towards the large front door in silence. You occasionally glanced up, but quickly averted your eyes towards the path, and Harry was also looking at you through his peripheral vision, smiling to himself as he saw how many times you glanced up at him. The silver Rolls Royce was waiting for the both of you at the end of the steps with the back door open with his driver, Benjamin, holding the door open. Harry gestured for you to get into the car first like the gentleman that he was. 

“Hi, Benjamin,” you greeted the middle-aged man with a smile. 

“Hello, Y/N,” he responded, tilting his hat down. 

“Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry shook his hand appreciatively. Benjamin had been Harry’s driver for the past ten years. He used to be his father’s driver, but when Harry grew older and was able to go to events and out on his own, they assigned Benjamin to be Harry’s driver. 

“You’re welcome, Prince Harry,” he slightly bowed before closing the door after Harry slipped into the car. 

Benjamin drove to the facility where the charity event was held. The privacy compartment screen between the driver and back seat was up; the fancy car seemed more like a movie theater with so much leg space and a middle console between the seats with a blank privacy screen in front of you. It screamed expensive, and Rolls Royce was the company that helped the Royal Family get from point A to point B as their entire underground garage was filled with these types of vehicles. 

You and Harry had about half an hour to chat and touch one another, so you unclicked your seatbelt, quickly moving towards his seat. He smiled, unclicked his seatbelt before letting you half-sit on his lap, your legs rested on his thighs, and he pulled the seatbelt over the both of you and clicked the metal buckle before pulling the seat belt strap behind him so it wouldn’t get in your way. 

A sigh came out of both of your mouths, enjoying this moment that felt short, but was cherished. You cuddle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as his arms were tightly wrapped around you. You could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and you enjoyed the sound, knowing it was maintaining a steady heartbeat for you. 

Harry kissed your forehead, lips delicately brushing across your skin, making you flustered. You looked up at him as he smiled down at you, the two of you smiling like idiots before he took his lips in with yours. 

“What’s it like to grow up always being so beautiful?” He suddenly asked, very charmingly, might you add. He couldn’t get enough of you and how stunning you looked every single day; no matter how much you disagreed with him, he always thought you were the most gorgeous person on this Earth.

You smiled, looking, and studying his face. Some strands of his hair had fallen into place against his forehead; you pushed them back, softly kissing his forehead. 

“Could say the same for you. You always have a beautiful heart and a lovely face.” You grazed his jaw with your thumb, his stubble scratching against your finger. 

A breathy chuckle fell from his lips. “Love you, my Princess. Dream girl, I swear.”

“And I love you, Your Highness. Love you like crazy,” you softly giggled, kissing his jaw. “How was breakfast, by the way?” 

“The usual. Gemma said Nan is starting to get suspicious, so we have to be careful, can’t have too many mornings in,” he explained sadly. You slightly pouted, but quickly covered up your sad expression with a neutral face, not wanting to make him feel bad because he had no control over his grandmother. 

“Okay…” you agreed, nodding your head. 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “Know this is hard, but we’ll figure it out, alright?” His hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing your soft skin as he looked deeply into your eyes. His green eyes held an immense amount of care and love, just like his heart, and just being in his view of vision was an honor enough. 

You nodded, blinking back the tears that had quickly formed. “I know we will. Don’t mind having you to myself, though,” you chuckled. The corners of his lips turned up as his dimple popped out. You took your finger and poked his dimple, something you had been doing ever since you were younger. 

“I don’t mind it either, but sometimes the sneaking around sucks, doesn’t it?” His brows slightly furrowed, clear frustration expressed on his face. You took your thumb and smoothed out his stressed and wrinkled forehead, and he immediately relaxed. 

“It does, but if that’s what it takes for me to be with you, then that’s how it’s gonna be.”

Harry deeply sighed, resting his head against your neck. You lifted your head up, so he had more room to perfectly fit against you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Butterflies soared in your stomach once you felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your skin. After all these years, his touch still made you giddy while goosebumps rose on your skin. His kisses didn’t lead to anything more as they simply spoke the words of admiration and gratitude. 

“Hmm, don’t deserve you,” he mumbled against your skin. 

“Yeah, you do. Deserve love and happiness more than anything, and if I’m the one to provide it to you, then that’s all I need in life.” He pulled his head back, coming face-to-face with you now as your words had really meant something. Your hand grazed his cheek, feeling his soft but yet somewhat stubbled skin. 

“I love you so much. Genuinely think my heart is going to explode full with my love for you.” He took your hand that was on his face in his, giving the back of your hand a kiss before placing your palm against his heart. You felt his heart beating fast, hard, and it was all for you. “You have my heart in the palm of your hand.” His actions were literal, and you loved how he always had a way with his words. “Full of love for and from you.” 

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him as your hand was still against his chest. For the rest of the car ride, you two relished in one another’s touch; it felt nice to be with one another outside of the Royal House where you didn’t have to hide behind corners or in secret passageways. 

When the car came to a smooth stop, you quickly unclicked the seat belt and got off of Harry, giving him a peck to his lips before situating yourself in your own seat. Benjamin opened Harry’s door and you let yourself out on your own side, quickly jogging around the car to stand next to Harry. 

A line of Rolls Royces were parked behind the vehicle you were in previously, and five guards, including you, were surrounding Harry as you all walked inside of the banquet room. You were standing in front of Harry, between two guards, while the other two were slightly behind the Prince, making sure he was safely boxed in between you all. 

Quite a few gasps were let out once people saw who had just walked in, and the volume in the room had increased. People were starting to walk towards you all, bowing and curtsying to the Prince as he said his hellos to everyone. Straight ahead, you noticed a woman running towards you, and you knew that wasn’t safe at all, considering this was a children’s charity event and you had the Prince right behind you. 

“Prince Harry-” her arms reached forward and she gained a little air, jumping a tad bit, but you had immediately stopped her, making sure she did no harm to the royalty. 

“Ma’am, please step back,” you stood in front of her like a brick wall, pushing her slightly as she stumbled back a bit. Her face had gone red, stepping aside; Harry softly smiled at her, waving his hand. You turned around briefly to see if Harry was okay, and a small smile appeared on his face, nodding at you to proceed. 

The group of guards walked Harry to one of the tables a group of kids were sat at. Harry told the guards that he was okay and that they could stand back until he was ready to leave. The four guards, including you, separated along the wall behind the Prince. 

You observed the room, noticing that there were a few photographers, clicking away at the charity event, making sure they get Prince Harry in their shot, along with volunteer workers and some parents at the event with their phones out, snapping pictures of him. You watched Harry interact with the children, helping them build legos with an enthusiastic smile on his face; he would high-five them, telling them that they did an amazing job building the ship before taking his phone out and snapping a picture of the wonderful sets the kids had built. 

Your heart warmed at the sight, and you couldn’t help but think about Harry being the father of your children because he would be the best dad; he would treat them so sweetly, spoil them rotten, and support them in letting them be whoever they’d like to be. A sudden warmth hit your face as you curled your lips into your mouth, hiding your smile—you suddenly thought about being pregnant and how Harry would be so gentle with you as he touched and kissed your stomach. 

With your leg shaking as you stood, you were getting jitters as you daydreamed. One of the guards noticed that you couldn’t stand still, so he slightly nudged your shoulder with his, bringing you out of your pleasant daydream. You looked up at Earl, raising your brows before he asked if you were okay. You nodded your head, standing straighter and placing your arms behind your back, interlocking your hands as you continued to watch how Harry’s smile brightened up while playing with the children. 

Harry absolutely loved charity events, not because they gave him good press but because every time he had gone to one, he would forget that there were cameras around him. Being and spending time with the kids had made him so happy, and the children seemed to enjoy their time with him as well, so that’s all that mattered to him. 

The charity event was being hosted by a foundation that helped kids who lacked a certain connection with their youthfulness because their parents didn’t have the money to get their kids toys or bring them to amusement parks. The foundation was a non-profit organization that simply organized donations to be used towards the children. They hosted toy drives every month, picnics every other Saturday, and sometimes Disney trips every six months if they reached their donation goal. 

Harry was all for donating to them, and this foundation was one of the five organizations for children that he was a member of and was very active with them throughout. He was very passionate about helping the children out, and he wanted them to have a nice childhood, helping them outweigh the good from the bad. His natural liking towards kids in general very much helped him easily bond with them. 

After a few hours, making sure every child got his attention, he was ready to leave. He didn’t leave without saying a small speech because it was expected; thanking everyone for donating and supporting this foundation, and he also thanked the kids for playing with him, which he earned many cheers from the young ones. 

Once he got off stage, he made eye contact with you, telling you that he was ready, and you headed towards him, the other guards followed after you. Just like you arrived, the guards boxed Harry in safely as he bid everyone goodbye. Everyone waved as a series of farewells were scattered across the room, sad to see the Prince go. Once you all were outside the venue, Benjamin was waiting by the passenger door. From the three hours Harry had been at the event, news had spread out like wildfire that the Prince was attending the event, so there was a swarm of paparazzi waiting outside the venue. 

The box of guards that were surrounding Harry closed in tighter since you had to get through the crowds. Harry, being the polite prince that he was, said hi to everyone as they reached out to hold his hand. But he rarely let anyone touch him because of an incident he had six months ago when he had reached over to shake someone’s hand, but they had taken advantage of the opportunity and harshly yanked him forward, making him stumble. Being frightened by that, he informed his guards to not let anyone touch him after that. He wasn’t being obnoxious or a typical ‘no one can touch me because I’m the Prince’ kind of guy, it was simply for his safety. You absolutely hated that someone was out to hurt him, and it pained you to see how shaken up he was that day. If the Prince had actually gotten hurt that day, there would be massive consequences for that person, but anyone would risk their lives to feel his touch. 

Once you were close to Benjamin, Harry let you get into the car first, but Benjamin stopped you. With a confused look on your face, you asked if everything was okay while Harry asked if there was something wrong. Benjamin leaned down to whisper in Harry’s ear, and you furrowed your brows, suddenly becoming suspicious as you watched them. Benjamin pulled back and Harry deeply sighed, shaking his head. 

“Y/N is my personal guard, though,” Harry mentioned. 

“Yes, but this was a direct message from the Queen herself. I’m only delivering the message, Your Highness. I don’t want to lose my job if I don’t comply,” Benjamin explains sadly. There was clear stress on his face, saddening him that he has to go against the Prince’s orders, but he couldn’t afford to lose his job when he has a family. And besides, it’s the Queen—everyone follows her orders. 

“Okay. Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry said, and Benjamin bowed. 

Harry turned towards you, leaning down to whisper into your ear just as Benjamin did to him. “Nan said that I have to take one of the other guards to ride back to the House with me. Specifically said, ‘Have the other guard come back with Harry, don’t care who it is.’ She told Benjamin that she wouldn’t be happy if he’d let us ride together. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” Harry pulled back, rolling his eyes. You simply nodded, knowing you couldn’t comfort him in any way since you were still in public, so you moved out of the way and stepped aside. 

Harry gave you a quick smile before turning his head to one of the guards, asking if he could join him. They quickly said yes, and safely got into the car. The rest of the guards waited until the car door was closed before walking towards the cars they arrived in. You slipped into the car, the one you didn’t arrive in, as you watched the one with your Prince inside drive away and towards the Royal House. 

Sighing, you looked out the window and watched the road and houses pass by. The Queen had never really taken a liking to you—never really made the effort to talk to you. You were the closest person to Harry, physically, since you were his bodyguard, but all she had ever done was question your actions when you’d been doing your job correctly, according to the instructions and demands from Prince Harry. 

But the worry and anxieties had increased because Elaine had become more suspicious than she was last year. Had she found out about your relationship with the Prince? You two had been doing well at hiding it besides this morning. And you had been good, denying Harry’s wishes to stay in up until this morning. But every day, it got more difficult hiding your love and affection towards the Prince. The word ‘no’ coming from his beautiful mouth as he would stare at you with those captivating emerald green eyes as he would plead to spend more time with him in his comfortable bed; the word completely vanished from your head. 

You wished the situation was different, but for now, you only hoped that things would get better from here. 

Once the car was parked in front of the large cemented steps that led up to the front door of the Royal House, Harry sighed, thanking Benjamin for driving him as well as Nico for accompanying him on the ride back. They both bowed, saying ‘you’re welcome’ before Harry let himself out and up those steps. Benjamin quickly reminded him that the Queen would like to see him when he arrived home, making Harry dread the conversation. 

He walked slowly towards the front door that was opened by two of the front gate guards. Saying a quick ‘hello’ to them, he walked towards the Queen’s lair, where she always prevailed when she said she needed to have a conversation with someone. 

The hallway leading to the double doors always made Harry anxious, ever since he was a little boy. He hated how dimly lit the hallway always was, and he never understood why she never wanted to put lights in this hallway. Probably to match her heart, Harry thought, but immediately took back the thought because he shouldn’t think that way about his grandmother, better yet, the Queen. 

Taking a deep breath, his shaky hand knocked on the door, hearing ‘Enter’ from the Queen from inside, and Harry opened the door. His grandmother was sitting at her large desk chair that was lined like a gold antique frame and was drinking tea out of her teacup that was passed down from generations. 

“Your Majesty,” Harry bowed, greeting his Nan. She placed her teacup down onto the small plate, placing her hand out to indicate him to sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk. There were no greetings, not a word out of her when he had entered, and now, she was staring at her grandson with snake eyes, ready to attack. 

Harry gulped, hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat straight up so she didn’t point out any more of the things he was doing wrong. 

“How was the charity event, Harry?” She suddenly asked, breaking her silence. 

“Uh, good. Had a lot of fun with the children.”

“Good, good. Anyways, I should get to the point with this, hmm?” She raised her brows as she asked her question as a genuine one. Harry’s face remained neutral, slightly nodding. “I called you in here because I wanted to tell you a bit of news that I found out earlier this week…” she trailed, taking a deep breath before she revealed her news. “I found out that I’m dying. I have a tumor in my brain, and the doctors have found it too late. They gave me the option to have surgery where they would try to take it out, but that would lead to very risky complications that I can’t afford. So, I told them that I would hold out.” 

Harry was shocked. His mouth was open, eyes wide, and speechless. Not knowing how to process this new information, he couldn’t believe how casual her tone was when she told him, even her face remained calm like she expected this to happen. 

“I, uh…Nan…” 

“I’ve been preparing for this—I’m getting older, so this was bound to happen already. I’m making sure the kingdom and our country are safe, and I’m making sure your parents are ready for the job they are about to accept.” 

Harry nodded, eyes welling up. “H-How much longer do you have?” 

She shrugged her shoulders. “Doctors said six months to a year, but that could change anytime. We just don’t know.” Harry exhaled deeply, looking down at his lap. He felt as if his heart was heavy as he listened to her talk about her disease—how okay she was with dying. Sure, now, he and Nan don’t get along very well, but once upon a time, they were closer than ever. The Queen absolutely loved her grandson and was always so sweet and gentle with him, but things quickly changed when he turned twenty-two. The older you get, the more distant they become, he thinks. He sighed, wishing it wasn’t like that. 

“I do have a wish from you…before I go.” 

“Anything,” he answered immediately, and he had wished he hadn’t answered so soon because the words that came out of her mouth next was his worst nightmare. 

“I would like to see you get married while I’m still alive. I’m arranging a gala this weekend and I’d like you to meet some people, you know, you can take your pick or whatnot,” she said with an emotionless face. He always disliked how much she lacked enthusiasm or emotion, and how she talked about things so casually. 

Elaine picked up her pen, writing out Thank You cards that she was sending to some people in the village. 

“I…what?” 

“Might I need to repeat that again?” She raised her brows annoyingly, hating when she needed to repeat herself. 

“I can’t do that…” 

“And why not?” She asked sternly, her change of voice had surprised Harry as she slapped her pen down onto the wooden desk. 

“Because…” This was it; he could easily out his relationship with you, tell her the truth, and it would be over with, but he didn’t because he knew that you weren’t ready for what was to happen after. Besides, you would have to know if he was going to tell her the truth, so Harry couldn’t go behind your back. “I don’t wanna meet someone at the gala just to get married right away. What happened to falling in love?” He questioned. 

Elaine scoffed, waving her hand. “Falling in love, that’ll happen when? Never? I’m gonna be gone, Harry. You’d rather fall in love in a year’s time rather than fulfill your grandmother’s wish?” Her voice started to increase, echoing, and bouncing off the walls of her office. Harry started to shake his legs anxiously from the volume of her voice and the idea that she proposed, absolutely hating it. 

The Queen had guilt-tripped him into marrying someone; she had used her disease and lifetime time limit so she could get what she wanted. Elaine knew full well he was going to obey her wishes because that’s how Harry was—he didn’t want anyone to feel bad and he certainly didn’t want it to come from him. She would ask Gemma, but she had much thicker skin than her brother, so she would turn the idea down faster than Elaine would be able to get it out. But Harry, on the other hand, was much easier to get to. 

“Harry, I’m only asking for one thing. When have I ever asked you for anything major?” She crossed her arms, resting them down on the desk. “This is my dying wish. Wouldn’t you want your wish to be-”

“Okay,” he interrupted. His voice was soft as he didn’t dare to look her in the eye as he spoke. 

“Great, it’s settled. Make sure to get your fittings done before the weekend. You have to look your best.” Harry didn’t have to look at her to know that she was absolutely beaming, knowing that she got what she wanted and didn't try hiding her excitement. “Please close the door on your way out.” 

Harry stood up slowly as he was in disbelief. Walking out of her office and closing the door, he started to breathe heavily. Tears were in his eyes and his chest felt heavy as his hands started to shake. He picked at his fingers to calm the shakiness down, but it didn’t work. Walking down the hallway, he rushed towards his room, not even checking to see if you had arrived yet, but he couldn’t face you, not yet. He had just agreed to marry someone that wasn’t you, and you were bound to be upset—he would be suspicious if you weren’t. How was he going to break this news to you? Hell, he didn’t even know how to process this himself. 

All he knew was that this was not going to end well. 

Hours later, you were wandering around the house, wondering where your Prince could be. You hadn’t seen him since you left the banquet hall earlier this afternoon; and Benjamin had told you he was to meet with the Queen once he had gotten home, but as the hours went by, you hadn’t heard or seen him. 

Quickly walking over to the West Wing, you headed towards his room because that was the last place you hadn’t checked. You walked by some of the guards and maids, saying a quick ‘hello’ to them as you passed by; it wasn’t odd for any of the staff to see you heading towards the Prince’s room because you had done it many times and Harry had instructed you, in front of the staff, that if you ever needed to see him, you could knock on his door. 

So, that’s what you did; you knocked on his door, waiting for a word from the other side, but you heard no movement whatsoever. You had checked the entire Royal House from top to bottom, but he was nowhere to be found, so he had to be in his room. You took a look around if anyone was near and once you saw the second floor was empty, you slowly opened the bedroom door of the Prince’s room. And what you saw was as if a tornado had hit his room; a mess was what described his room perfectly as objects were thrown all across the floor, the bed was unmade, chairs and sofa were flipped upside down, and the mirror was cracked in half, leaving shards of glasses on the dresser. 

You slowly walked in, afraid that someone other than Harry might be in his room, and had purposefully trashed it. There was light coming from his bathroom, so you walked towards the light, slowing your steps so your shoes wouldn’t squeak against the polished and shiny tiles. 

“Harry?” You softly called out. By now, he would have come out because you were the only one allowed in his room without permission, so you were starting to get worried. 

Once you were close to the restroom, you started to hear sobs echoing the bathroom, filling the room with soft and quiet heartbreaking sounds, making your heart drop because you knew those cries and you knew exactly who they came from. When you were inside the bathroom, you saw Harry sitting against the wall, arms leaning on his knees as his face was resting on his arms as Harry cried and sobbed. 

Seeing the love of your life in pain and in such anguish, it genuinely felt as if your heart was tearing into pieces or if someone had ripped your heart out and stomped on it. The pain that Harry endured was also felt through your heart as well because he was your soulmate, you both felt everything the other felt. 

You kneeled beside him, gently calling out for his name once more so he knew that you were right beside him before you placed your hand on his shoulder. Harry didn’t have to look up to know that it was you—your touch, your voice, and your presence before leaning to the side and into your arms, sobbing into your chest uncontrollably. You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, comforting him in the best way that you knew how, and that was to simply hold him. 

He liked being held and it made him feel at ease, made his mind shut out the noise. You would simply hold him for the rest of your life if your life depended on it, and if that meant keeping him calm and at peace, then you didn’t mind. 

You ran your hand through the locks of his hair, scratching his scalp and pushing his hair out of his face. You kissed his forehead, giving him many pecks in a way to comfort him. Harry roughly coughed and sniffled; you could feel his heart beating radically, so you smoothed your hand down his back, somewhat rocking him in your arms. You knew he wasn’t a baby, you knew that, but if it worked with crying babies, then it must work with adults too. And besides, who didn’t like to be held while crying? 

To your credit, it had worked; Harry was calming down and his heartbeat wasn’t out of control. He looked up at you through his glassy eyes, sniffling; he looked defeated, and you hated that you weren’t there when he was breaking down because it must have gone on for hours.  There were visible tears that stopped against the crevice of his nose, so you took your hand and wiped his tears away before kissing his nose. 

Harry sat up, sitting against the wall as he was before you came in. Propping his knees up, you moved to sit in front of him, in between his legs, so he could know that you were there for him and that he had your full attention. He grabbed your hands, sadly kissing them but in a way, saying ‘thank you’ for comforting him and making him feel better just by your hold. You rubbed his hands with your thumb, gently caressing his skin as you patiently waited for him to talk to you. 

He took a very deep breath as if it physically pained him to breathe before he spoke, wishing the words that came out of his mouth were a sick joke, but it wasn’t—nothing that came out of the Queen’s mouth was a joke. 

“I spoke with my grandmother earlier…” he began to tell you that she had brain cancer and that she wasn’t going to do anything about it, just live the rest of her life until she couldn’t anymore. Your face saddened as Harry explained, simply just listening to him as he spoke. You placed one of your hands around his neck, playing with the curls that sat on the back of his neck. 

“Bub, I’m so sorry to hear that.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek before giving you a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, taking in your scent and comfort; he felt better for the time being—before he had to tell you the other part. A new set of tears streamed down his face, unable to hide his emotion now. 

Once you pulled away, you softly wiped his face with your hand before he spoke again. “Sadly, that’s not the news that I’m crying over.” 

Raising your brows, you looked at Harry with a surprised expression, wondering what got him so sad to trash his room and breakdown in the corner of the bathroom. 

“Oh…W-What is it?” You hesitated. 

You listened, watching his mouth as he spoke. Every ounce of hope had disappeared from your body as Harry explained the situation that he was in, that you were in. He cried, unable to be coherent as possible as his sobs won over his ability to speak a full and proper sentence. It genuinely felt like you were asleep like this was a dream, more of a nightmare. As if all of the plans and dreams you had patiently waited for was thrown out the window in a world record time of a minute, maybe less. The color from your face had completely drained, leaving you shocked, appalled, and hurt. Every word was just another twist of the knife that went straight to your heart as you wished his words would get better to relieve the strong and harsh ache in your chest, but they didn’t. 

Wake up, please, wake up, you told yourself, but this was reality. It was real.  

Silence had washed over you two after Harry was done explaining the horrible news. The silence was louder than glass shattering, loud and pitchy. Contrasting to the silence outside of your head that laid between you and Harry, the inside of your mind, your world, was similar to the glass, breaking and crumbling into pieces with one hard hit of the enemy.

“I-I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve said something, anything. But instead, I said yes,” Harry bawled through his words. 

“Are we…over?” You asked nervously. The lack of eye contact you were giving him only pained him, but he knew how difficult it was to say that. He took your face into his hands, tenderly cradling your sad but beautiful face. 

“No,” he immediately disagreed. “I mean, not if you don’t want it to be. I understand why you would, though—didn’t even fight for you. Please, let me fix this. I’ll talk to her, tell her everything. She can’t make me do this, I have a right to my own words and decisions, right?” You stayed silent. Harry understood why you were quiet as you were still taking in this information and how to process that your boyfriend was to be married in the next few months, but he really needed to hear your voice. He needed the reassurance from you because you always seemed to know the right words, but he knew you needed him more. “Princess, please look at me.” His voice was shaky, and you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? Not gonna let her walk all over me again. I love you, and it’s time for her to know that.” 

You nodded briefly, not able to get the right words out. Harry didn’t mind; he took you into his arms, wrapping his strong and tattooed arms around your shaking and frightful body. 

He held you tight as you both sat on the floor of his bathroom, pretending that everything was going to be okay. But in reality, neither of you knew if it really would be. 

The weekend had come by too quickly for Harry’s liking. He didn’t get the chance to have a moment with the Queen because she was busy with handling errands for the gala; from talking to event coordinators, caterers, and floral arrangements, so she hadn’t gotten a moment to sit down unless it was nighttime. Harry practically felt her negligence towards him, always telling him she’d talk to him later, which left Harry feeling defeated because the more she ignored him, the quicker the days had gone by—closer to the gala. 

And to his dislike, it was the morning of the gala, something he had been dreading ever since Elaine had told him she was hosting one. It felt like his world was crumbling; he noticed your demeanor change—how could it not. Things weren’t the same, and they weren’t going to be the same again until he got himself out of the unwanted arranged marriage that the Queen was putting him upon. 

You didn’t mean to act differently around Harry, your boyfriend, or whatever this meant for your relationship, but it was difficult to act like your normal self. You sought comfort from Maria as she told you that this wouldn’t be the last of you two; she had a gut feeling it wouldn’t be. 

You had always imagined getting married to him as you two would excitedly talk about marriage and how life would be when you were husband and wife. But Harry was soon to be meeting his wife, and you had to be in the same room as him, possibly feet away from him when he did so. Your heart ached, dropping to your stomach as you felt sick to your gut every time you thought about it.

You were wearing your usual attire but you added a black corset over your white shirt and a black blazer since the gala was a more formal event. Standing in front of the large bedroom doors, you closed your eyes for a mere second, taking a deep breath before knocking, entering right after. 

Upon your eyes was Harry standing on the block square step in front of the mirror that was placed in the corner of his bedroom. His seamstress sewing the crystals that were loose on his embellished jacket that he paired with white trousers. The gold buttons on the front of his jacket were engraved with his initials, adding a touch of personalization to his attire; along with his white lace gloves, white pearl necklace, and cross pendant. 

He looked absolutely marvelous, rightfully so, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him no matter how heartbroken you were. 

His eyes caught yours in the mirror, widening before turning around to face the seamstress. “Jaylin, I think we’re good, yeah?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t find any more flaws in his suit. 

“Yes, we are. Have a great time at the gala, Your Highness,” she curtsied, grabbing her supplies before heading out the door. You greeted her on her way out, and you earned a smile from her. 

The click of the door was heard, indicating that it was just the two of you in his room. Usually, you would take advantage of being alone with him, but again, things were different this time around. 

Harry stepped off the step, slowly walking towards you. His eyes never left yours, piercing through you like fire, and you were going to melt. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted softly, looking you up and down. You slightly grinned, looking down at your feet. 

“Hi, Your Highness.” 

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head up. You looked at him with doe eyes, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with you even more with just your stare. 

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented. Leaning forward, he was about to place a kiss on your lips, but you felt his hesitancy as he pulled away. He hadn’t felt your touch, your lips in what seemed like years; completely deprived of your touch, but it’d only been a few days. 

“Thank you. You look wonderful as always.” You grabbed the edge of his jacket, tugging on it to straighten out the material before smoothing your hand over his shoulder and down his arms. Harry sucked in a breath; that was the most you’d ever touched him in days, and he was cherishing every second of it because reality had hit him, and this could possibly be the last time you were ever going to touch him. 

You sighed, pulling back as you crossed your arms behind you. Harry could tell that you had a million thoughts racing in your head and you were wary of saying them, but nothing you could say would scare him; he was already faced with his biggest nightmare. 

He walked towards you, taking your hands in his. The softness of your hands juxtaposed to the slight roughness of his that carried multiple heavy rings on his slender fingers. 

“Hey, I’m gonna fix this, alright? I’m telling her tonight, and I promise that I’m gonna be yours forever, no matter what happens,” he reassured, looking ever so deeply into your eyes so you would get the message. His eyes had captured yours, putting you under his spell, so you nodded and believed him. Harry sighed in relief, thankful that you trusted him. “I actually got you something.” He let go of your hands, walking over to his dresser before pulling out a square box from the drawers. 

Harry was always one to give, always the giver and he loved giving without expecting anything in return. Throughout your relationship, he would always buy you random but sentimental things that he saw at the shop simply because it reminded them of you. The thought was incredibly sweet and you loved the fact that even when you weren’t around him, he was still thinking of you. 

He opened the box, revealing a pearl necklace that had a gold anchor in the middle. It was a necklace that you had thought of getting to match the tattoo that was inked next to your right breast. You and Harry had gotten complimentary tattoos the second year of your relationship, and he proudly got a ship tattoo on his left arm as well as an anchor on his wrist to match with you. Harry was your anchor; he kept you upright. He was the backbone of your ship, helping you slow down whenever you needed a break. 

“You were secretly eyeing this when we visited that farmer’s market a few months ago. And since I couldn’t go and get this by myself since you’re always with me, I asked Gemma if she could get it for me. Hope this was the one you were talking about,” he explained shyly as he held the box open for you. 

You were speechless as your heart fluttered. “Harry…” Your fingers delicately grazed the necklace, studying and feeling his gold chain; it was the exact same one you saw at the market. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Yes, I do—I love it.” You softly smiled up at him. “D-Do you mind putting it on me?” He immediately nodded, taking the necklace out of his case, and you turned around, slowly pulling your hair to the side. 

Harry unclasped the necklace; the small skin on the back of your neck was exposed to him, so he leaned down, placing a small kiss on your skin. The action sent shivers down your spine, but you took the touch that you’d been starved of. He put the necklace on as it sat perfectly against your collarbone; and Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, taking in your delicious scent. You felt extremely warm as if you were standing in the courtyard and the sun was casting its light right down your spine, providing you warmth. You placed your arms on top of his, hugging him to yourself as he rested his face against the crook of your neck, tenderly kissing your skin. 

A deep sigh of relief was released from your lips as you let loose in his hold. His arms were a place you wanted to be in forever; it was a place where you found security and comfort, and the thought of leaving, a chance to never be in his arms, had never once crossed your mind. 

You turned around in his arms, facing him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, mindlessly playing with the small curls that sat so effortlessly on his neck. 

“Thank you for the necklace, I truly love it,” you sincerely said, reaching up to place a small chaste kiss on his lips. Your lips against his had made Harry’s stomach flip, and he couldn’t bear to hide the smile that made you fall so hard for him. 

“You’re welcome, my love.” 

“Do you mind…fixing my corset? It’s a bit loose.” You offered him a smile, and he nodded. You took off your blazer before he reached behind you to untie the knot that you had tried to make look decent. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” You suddenly asked as Harry pulled the strings tighter, making you take a big breath in before he started to tie them smoothly without the need to look if he’s doing it correctly; he’s tied your corset for you so many times already that it was all muscle memory. 

“Yeah, I do know that,” he nodded, looking deeply into your eyes. You had practically felt Harry’s doubts and insecurities of your love deep through because of the news that he broke to you the other day. And you figured you weren’t being a good enough girlfriend to him and failing to remind him that you loved him and it wasn’t his fault for everything that’s happening. “You know I love you as well, yes?” 

You raised your brows at him, nodding. “Mhm. Just wanted to see if you knew.”

He chuckled, finishing up the knot. “Yeah, I know.” 

He placed his hands on your hips, and you leaned to give him a kiss to thank him as well as just to kiss him lovingly, something you two hadn’t done in days. Giving you a smile, he was going to go in for another one, but a knock was heard on the door, making you two pull away quickly. 

That knock on the door only meant that the car was ready and that Harry should be heading to the gala now. That knock only meant that it was time to face his future—the future that was going to fight for, the one that he wanted and not the Queen. 

That knock only indicated that it would be determined if he was to live with or without you, and there’s no way in hell he was living without you. 

Elaine had definitely gone all out with this gala, Harry thought. It was held in a museum that was closed due to the Queen’s personal favors and demands. 

When a guest entered the gala, they were immediately caught with the gold antique lining on every end of the wall; the high crystal chandeliers reflected off the gold and illuminated the room even further, bouncing off the shiny and polished floors. Long champagne color curtains were draped in front of each window with a historical gold statue pushed up against the window. The dome-shaped ceiling was high, painted to tell the story of the Renaissance. When a guest entered the gala, they were welcomed with elegance, grace, and exquisiteness, prepared to have a gold evening that would only end in secret affairs and tragic events. 

You led Harry through the room, many guests greeting him with such poise as they tried to get his very best impression. With suits looking sharp and dresses were extra flowy, they bowed and curtsied as Harry politely said his greetings to them. 

Many of the guests had been mentally and physically prepared to have a proper conversation with Prince Harry, and hopefully get a chance with him on the dance floor, if he allowed it. Everybody wondered what it would be like to walk into the building with Prince Harry on their arm, how they would flaunt and brag about how they arrived with him. 

During galas and balls like these, the guards were instructed to be present, to be aware, so they didn’t need to always be close to the Royal Family. Once you got an approving nod and smile from Harry, you left him be; guests surrounded him, the men were shaking his hand as the women gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was completely soaked up in the attention, everyone praising him for the recent work that he’s done for different foundations and events that he attended recently. He’d been offered too many invites to grab a drink, or to the dance floor later in the evening, or even to their bedroom when everyone was asleep. 

Politely and respectfully, he told all of them that he’d see where the night would take him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to reject them fully because the only one he wanted to have a drink with was you. The only one he wanted to invite and take on the dance floor, dancing and spinning the night away to classical and soft music was you. The only one he wanted to go to bed with, to make love under the sheets, and wake up in the early hours of the morning to admire how you slept was you. 

The Queen was sitting on her throne, crown sitting perfectly on her head as she watched Harry for over an hour, interacting with her guests. She could practically hear the conversations that the many women whispered to in his ear, inviting him for a night in their presence, but she noticed how uninterested Harry was—the look on his face said it all and how he would politely brush off their question without giving them an answer. She observed how he, quite often, looked over at you, standing against the wall, watching him as well. 

You were nervously watching him, observing the way he acted around the guests, seeing if his demeanor would suddenly change since you weren’t right by his side anymore. It wasn’t as if you were jealous—you were never one to be jealous; it was your own insecurities that made you constantly worry about how Harry could just pack up and find someone else that was much better for him. Everyone always wondered what it would be like to love Prince Harry, and you were the lucky one to know what his love felt like, and you would hold onto that love for as long as you possibly could. 

Elaine had made her rounds and chatted with several people who were eager to talk to her, and they were lucky enough to get a chuckle out of her. It was difficult impressing the Queen, her own family even struggled to get her approval, so it was a rare sight to see Elaine walk up to someone and initiate a conversation. 

But that person wasn’t just ‘anyone,’ they were that person the Queen had specifically picked out to wed her grandson, someone who was worthy of hers and the Prince’s time. Elaine had asked the woman to follow her, which she immediately complied as Elaine walked through the room, nodding her head at everyone who greeted her, for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

Harry was in conversation with one of the Dukes when his grandmother had walked up to him, the first time tonight, with someone, who he had never met before, trailing behind her. 

“Harry,” The Queen made herself known. 

“Your Majesty.” Harry bowed. 

“I would like you to meet Venus. She’s the daughter of one of the board members for the Water and Power Organization,” Elaine introduced the dark-haired girl. 

Venus curtsied. “Your Highness.” She smiled, flashing him her gorgeous smile. Venus was pretty, anyone knew that from just a glance. She wore a champagne silk dress that had crystals embedded on her waist, cinching her figure. She added white silk gloves and diamond earrings to top off the look. 

“Pleasure,” Harry simply said behind a smile, masking his anxious and nervous attitude. He knew this was the moment where the Queen would tell him who Venus was and what he was to do while you were standing in the back watching the entire interaction, holding in your tears as your heart broke a little more. 

“My dear, Harry,” Elaine started. Harry looked at his grandmother weirdly; she hadn’t called him that since he was younger. “Shall you accompany her to the dance floor? Get to know each other, hmm?” She suggested, brows raised. 

Harry was all too polite to reject the poor girl as Venus looked at him with hopeful eyes. He simply cleared his throat and nodded, hesitantly offering her hand to the dance floor. Venus gladly took his hand, and Harry led them under the high crystal chandelier before she put her hand on his shoulder while the other still held his hand. Harry respectfully placed his hand on the small of her back--his actions unsure. Sure, he had danced with many people throughout the years, even while being with you, but this was completely different; this was the woman who he was to be wedded to, and he was sure Venus knew that as well. 

“The Queen is very kind. I thought she disliked a lot of people, so I was shocked when she started up a conversation with me.” Venus made conversation to fill the void of silence between her and the Prince as they swayed to the classical music. 

Harry lightly scoffed to himself. “She’s the Queen, could do anything she wants.” 

“She told me the plan, and I will happily be your wife, Your Highness, an honor really.” Her voice was light and hopeful. Harry knew that she was a kind woman and anyone would jump at the chance to marry into royalty, but he couldn’t deal with this, not right now. Not when you’re standing feet away, containing your pain. Harry pulled away swiftly from Venus’ hold, leaving her confused. “Your Highness?” 

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this,” he told her before walking away and leaving her on the dance floor. 

The Queen had watched the entire interaction, anger, and disappointment present on her face as she watched Harry walk away and out of the main ballroom. You were about to follow him out once you saw him frantically walk out, but you noticed the Queen quickly trailing behind him. Holding tightly onto your thumbs to contain the shakiness, you stayed put as your mind had begun to wonder if your boyfriend was okay or not. 

You understood why he seemed upset and stormed off; dancing with someone who wasn’t your partner hurt just the same as watching it right in front of you. All you wanted to do was hide away with him, in each other’s arms forever, but that wasn’t reality. 

Harry’s footsteps clicked against the tiled floor, walking in pure frustration as he tugged on his hair. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, a groan slipped from his mouth. He heard footsteps following behind him, and he already knew who those particular steps belonged to. Turning around to face what seemed like the devil itself, he inhaled deeply, holding his breath. 

“What in God’s name are you doing? You left the poor girl hanging!” Elaine scolded, eyes piercing through him. 

“Nan, I can’t do this. You can’t make me do this.” His eyes and voice pleaded, begged for mercy as he was asking for a favor as her grandson, not the Prince. 

“And why may that be?” She tested. Harry’s mouth opened but quickly closed, refraining himself to say anything. The words were right at the tip of his tongue and he had told you that he would tell her everything, but when it came to the moment, anxiety and nerves got in the way. But it seemed like the Queen knew exactly what he was going to say because she spoke for him, saying, “Is it because of that girl out there who happens to be your personal guard? Y/N, is it?” Her voice had a hint of sarcasm, and that’s when Harry knew. 

She knows, she knows everything. 

“H-How did-” 

“Oh, for god sake, Harry. Do you think I’m naive? Oblivious? It’s painfully obvious--the way you two look at each other, how you walk so closely next to each other, not to mention, the mornings in. You can’t tell me that every time you sleep in, she’s nowhere to be found too? Hmm?” Crossing her arms, she knew she defeated Harry. There was no way around it and no room for lying because she knew everything.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I thought it was a one time thing, the first time I noticed it--that it wouldn’t last long. But I’ve watched it happen for five years, and now that I’ve had limited time on this Earth, I didn’t want to see it anymore.” She shook her head in disappointment. “So, you will marry Venus,” she instructed sternly. 

“I will not,” Harry bit back, holding his ground. 

“You will do as I say-” 

“Your Majesty!” Harry interrupted, his lip wobbling involuntarily. For a moment, Elaine had seen the seven-year-old Prince as he gave her big puppy eyes, pushing his bottom lip out as he begged. For a moment, she was about to give in to his wishes, disagreeing to be wedded to a woman he had never met before tonight. If it were twenty years ago, she would have, but twenty-seven-year-old Harry didn’t have the same effect on her as he did two decades ago. 

She loved her grandson, she did. As cruel and heartless as it was, her love for him had begun to slowly dissipate ever since he started dating you, making her a bit more harsh with him as it was a complete switch up from how she acted around him when he was younger. 

“You are to be married to Venus next Saturday, and that is final,” she said in an unrelenting tone before she walked away, heading back into the main room without another look back at her heartbroken grandson. 

Harry was left in the empty hallway on the verge of a full breakdown. His knees felt weak, about to give out from holding him up. Luckily, you entered the hallway, quickly walking towards Harry who looked completely stunned. The bottom of your shoes clicked loudly against the quiet hallway. 

You placed your hands on the side of his face, frantically worrying. “Harry, baby? What’s wrong? What happened?” 

He finally exhaled the deep and big breath that he had been holding in since his conversation with the Queen. The absence of your presence had made his breath shudder as he quite frankly couldn’t breathe properly when you weren’t around. 

His legs gave out as he couldn’t properly stand, and without warning, he collapsed, but you had caught him as you quickly placed your arms under his underarms, trying your best to pull him up. But his deadweight had won, bringing you both to the floor. You caught his fall, somehow maneuvering yourself to be placed behind him, so he wouldn’t completely fall on his back. Sitting in between your legs, he turned himself in your hold, burying his head in your neck as he began to sob. Tears soaked your skin as they slid smoothly down to your shirt, dampening the piece of clothing. His hot breath hit your skin as he bawled his eyes out, holding your top tightly between his fist, wrinkling your perfectly ironed white shirt. 

His wails broke your heart, and you had no clue as to what happened prior to getting this reaction out of him, but it must have been something horrible; something the Queen had said to him as you saw her walk into the ballroom just before you walked out. You only assumed it had something to do with the arranged marriage that she mentioned earlier this week. 

“Baby…please, you’re scaring me,” your voice was shaky, anxious as to what the reasoning for his breakdown was. Your fingers threaded through his chestnut curls, comforting him in a way you only knew how to do. 

Harry’s breath stuttered as he sniffled, catching his breath as he calmed down a bit before he spoke. “S-She knows.” Your breath had hitched in your throat, heart dropping to your stomach. The Queen knows everything, constantly replayed over in your mind like a broken record. “She knew from the very start of o-our relationship that’s why she started to become so harsh and short with me.” Your heart broke for Harry as he spoke about his grandmother, and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one that caused the Queen’s unpleasant tone with the Prince. “But I am to still be married to the woman in the ballroom. She scheduled it for next Saturday,” he added as his voice cracked towards the end. 

His words were echoing in your head, and it only added fuel to your terrible nightmare. You thought you had time, time to convince Elaine that your relationship with Harry was serious and that you loved him. But you’re starting to think that Elaine didn’t care if he was happy or in love, that she was doing this completely out of spite. 

“W-What are we gonna do, Y/N?” Harry needed your words—he needed your console, your reassurance that everything was going to be alright. 

But this time, you didn’t have an answer. 

Your footsteps were the only thing that were heard as you walked through the dark and quiet hallway, leading up to the Queen’s office. She had asked one of her guards to tell you that she requested to see you after breakfast, and your thoughts had been running ever since. This had been the first time the Queen would speak a word to you; the other times had been full of her ignoring your greetings as you curtsied politely. 

You asked Harry if she knew if he knew what she was going to say to him, but he just shook his head no. Rightfully so, he’s been in quite a gloomy mood, but he’d been more clingy than ever since this was most likely your last week together. You tried not to think about how Harry was to be married to another woman at the end of the week, and that only led to crying into your pillow until the early hours of the morning; Harry’s been the same, maybe even worse. 

With a shaky hand, you knocked on the door; not too hard but not too soft either. You gulped as you heard Elaine say ‘Enter’ from the other side of the door. Nervously opening the door, you were faced with the Queen sitting in her chair with her hands linked together as she rested them against her desk. 

“Your Majesty.” You curtsied, anxiously looking at her for some sort of approval, but all she did was gesture for you to sit down. 

Once you were sitting rather uncomfortably on the edge of the seat, she stared at you for a moment, looking at you up and down as her glare was rather deadly. You tried not to fidget or anxiously bounce your leg, but her eyes were probing into your soul, and you were afraid of how she may react if you disconnected your eyes from her. 

“I assume you know why you’re here?” She started. You nodded lightly, not saying a word. “I don’t appreciate you and my grandson going behind my back to have this…affair of yours, especially for years. First, did you think nobody would find out? You’re in the Royal House, everyone reports things back to me when they see something suspicious, so don’t think you were all that sneaky. Second, Harry’s a Prince, you’re a…guard.” She said with much emphasis on your title. “Did you think it was going to work out? I mean, he’s a Prince.” She added a bit of a scoff at the end, but her tone was stern. 

“My apologies for going behind your back, Your Majesty.” You hadn’t a clue on what to say to her other than to apologize because there was no reason for lying only to make the situation worse. 

“Hmm. You see, Prince Harry is to be married in four days. That means you are no longer in relations with him, and since you’ve disrespected me and my family, you are no longer needed in the Royal House. You are to be packed by Saturday, and you’ll never go close to my family ever again—more importantly, the Prince. Understood?” She instructed unsympathetically. 

Your breath was stuck in your throat, your stomach in knots, and your heart didn’t feel like it was beating anymore. You were absolutely crushed. The thought of not seeing Harry anymore frightened you; you didn’t want to do life without him. You needed him, and unknowing to the Queen, he needed you too. 

“I asked if you understood,” she said, wanting a vocal answer to seal the deal. 

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty.” 

Elaine leaned back in her chair. “Very well. You may leave now.” 

You got up, making your way out of her office, closing the heavy door before you let out a wracking sob, chest heaving up and down. You quickly made your way to your room, covering your mouth to contain the volume of your cries. The fee staff that you passed by had called out for you, asking what was wrong, but you ignored their calls, heading straight to your room where you locked the door and cried into your pillow, just as you had for the past few days. Your heart broke into a million pieces for yourself and for Harry, and you didn’t know how you would ever recover. 

As you were talking with the Queen. The Duchess had found Harry lingering around Elaine’s office, pacing back and forth as well as pressing his ear up against the door. 

“Harry? What are you doing?” Anne asked worriedly. 

“Mum, please. I need you.” Tears streamed down his face, and Anne’s heart broke as she saw her son so heartbroken. All of the rules Elaine had instructed Anne to do on how to raise her children, like completely stop showing her kids affection, had completely torn in half. And just like that, her child needed her.

Anne quickly took Harry into her arms, and Harry sobbed into her shoulder, hugging her tightly. “There, there, my darling. You’re alright.” She rubbed his back soothingly. “What’s wrong?” 

Harry pulled back. “Uh, Y/N—she's in there with Nan. Mum, she knows everything.” Anne’s eyes widened. “We’ve kept it in for so long, why now?” Harry choked in between his words as his cries had heightened. 

Anne looked at Harry with a defeated face. She’s always known about his relationship with you ever since the beginning. A quite fresh six months into the relationship, Anne had caught you two running around in the courtyard under the moonlight, past curfew hours. Harry suggested sneaking out because that was the only time you two had alone, so you hesitantly said yes without thinking about getting caught. Sure enough, you two did get caught by the Duchess. You relentlessly apologized to his mum, saying you won’t pass curfew hours anymore, but Anne simply just smiled, telling you two to be more careful next time because it could’ve been the Queen who had caught you. 

As Harry’s mother, she understood the importance of wanting him to live his life the way he wanted to. She always encouraged that he could be whoever he wanted to be, and she would always be there to support it. She didn’t want to tell him who to love or who to marry because that decision should be completely up to him. And throughout the years, she’d seen how much love he has for you while that same love was also being reciprocated. That’s all she wanted for him—someone who would love and cherish him. 

“I don’t know what to say, darling. Maybe you could talk to her?” Anne suggested, caressing Harry’s arms. 

“I-I tried before, but she just brushed past me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Frustration was clearly going through Harry’s body as he pulled on his hair, something he does when he’s anxious and frustrated because he was somewhat in control over it. 

“C’mon, let’s go into the living room.” She grabbed his arm, leading him out of the hallway, but he pulled back. 

“But…” 

“She’ll go to you when she needs to. The last thing you need is getting caught lingering around when I’m sure the Queen doesn’t want you two being around one another.” 

Anne was right; a mother does know best. Following her wishes, he nodded, trailing behind his mother and out of the hallway, away from his poor girl who was being confronted by the Queen. 

It was Friday night, and you had just zipped up the last of your luggage. Your room was empty, and it pained your heart that it was your last night at the Royal House, the last time you would ever see Harry. 

You were due to be out of the Royal House by seven a.m and off Royal grounds at nine in the morning; there was a boat scheduled for everyone visiting the grounds to departure at nine, and you would be on your way to God knows where, but far away from the one person who had your heart. 

Harry’s wedding was to be scheduled quite early in the morning, around eight-thirty, or so you’d heard from the staff. The entire staff had no clue of your leave, except a few of the guards that were going to escort you out of the Royal House and to the docks. The Queen had bumped into you in the hallways and specifically instructed you to not tell anyone that you were leaving because she was going to tell them that you resigned if they asked. You simply had no energy to argue, to disagree with her choice, so you nodded, not saying a word. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, completely drained physically and emotionally, and the one thing on your mind was to go to sleep—sleep and Harry, your dearest Harry who you hoped was okay. You got ready for bed mindlessly as a numbness fell throughout your body. You couldn’t feel anything but pain, and the suffering you’d endured for the past week had overwhelmed your mind and body, leaving you dazed. 

Your heart pounded through your ears with every movement as it started to make you feel dizzy, so you laid down on your side, facing the wall while you hugged your pillow tightly while your hand was wrapped around your gold necklace Harry had gifted you. Shutting your eyes, you forced your mind to go to sleep. 

A few moments passed by, and due to your ears ringing, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open and close. But you did feel the edge of your twin bed dip down, making you open your eyes in startelement as the figure behind you engulfed you into their arms, and you immediately relaxed. 

Sighing deeply, a few tears shed from your eyes, feeling relief from the pair of arms around you; you hadn’t felt his arms around you since Tuesday, the day you talked to the Queen. You also hadn’t seen him since Tuesday because after your meeting with Elaine, she had found Harry, telling him to stay away from you. Many arguments had come out of his mouth, but Elaine immediately shut him down after that, sternly telling him that he was to never speak to her that way again. Knowing that Harry would break the rule of not seeing you, Elaine ordered for you to not cross the boundary of the West and East Wing as she knew you wouldn’t break her rules. 

The feeling of being this close to one another after three days was such a relief, and it almost felt wrong because of the Queen’s wishes, but you simply couldn’t care less because you were in the arms of the person you adored. 

Turning around to face him, you were immediately greeted with a loving ‘I missed you so damn much’ kiss. His lips glided over yours smoothly, but rushed, desperate to feel your touch as his arms never loosened around your frame, needing your body close. 

“Hi, Princess,” he said breathlessly once he pulled away. 

You kissed the tip of his nose, making him blush. “Your Highness, how are you?” You asked concerningly. 

“Was doing horrible without you, but right now, I’m just happy to see you, happy to be in your bed.” You softly smiled, pecking his lips. 

You were also happy to have him in your bed. He’d only snuck out of his room to sleep in your bed a handful of times, but he could easily say that it’s the best bed he’s ever slept on because your scent was all over the sheets as well as your body being pressed up against his due to the lack of space you two had. You’d tease him, saying that you were baffled he would rather leave his king-size bed for your small one, but he would charm your pants off and come back with how he liked your small bed better because that meant you would be closer to him the entire night. A charmer, he is. 

A silence fell over you both, simply just looking and taking one another’s presence in. You had both memorized every inch of each other’s face throughout the entirety of your friendship and relationship—every mark, mole, crease, and wrinkle was ingrained into your mind as it was your fear that you would forget how your handsome Prince looked like—but this time, it was different. You two were looking at one another, so neither of you would actually forget what the other looked liked because you wouldn’t be able to see him again. 

You lowered your eyes to your neck, stopping yourself from crying, but it seemed like your tears and emotion for the best of you. A small sniffle came out of you and Harry pouted, bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said against his skin. 

“C’mon…” Harry said with slight annoyance, lightly scoffing as he was in disbelief of what you were saying. 

“I mean it, I’m really gonna miss you.” You pulled your head out of his chest, looking up at him. 

He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. His heart was breaking more than it already had, and it upset him how much you were letting all of this happen—accepting it, more like. 

“Don’t do this.” He looked deeply into your eyes, brows furrowed; you could tell that he looked frustrated and offended, but you didn’t know what you could do to make your situation better, so you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. 

“There’s nothing else for me to do, Harry. I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t want you to resent me for not being close to your grandmother when she’s practically on her deathbed.” He pulled away from you, laying on his back as he looked up at the ceiling fan, hoping if he looked long enough, he would be hypnotized into another life—a life where it involved just the two of you. But he was still in your room and his realities were still coming true. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” you added. 

“Don’t accept the fact that we’re not gonna see each other again!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down, still not making eye contact with you. How could he ever resent you? For most of his life, you’d made him the happiest—ever since you two were kids, you would always find a reason to put a smile on his face and get out of bed in the morning. 

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted your last night to go, and you could understand why he was frustrated, but you really didn’t know what he wanted you to do because there wasn’t anything you could do. 

He turned his head towards you, seeing that you were closing your eyes, exhaling through your nose deeply. He turned his whole body to lay on his side, facing you before bringing his hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. You opened your eyes once you felt his cold touch, chills rose onto your skin as you looked at him through your glassy and sad eyes; a look that broke his heart. 

“I’m sorry for raising my voice, my Princess. I’m just…angry and sad.” He lowered his eyes, feeling subdued. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I just don’t know what to do to make this situation any better, but we have to accept that this is our ending. And it may not be ‘happily ever after’ for the two of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you.” He nodded as he took in your words. 

“Just…hold me, yeah? Until you have to l-leave.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it rather difficult to accept the fact that you won’t be on the same grounds as him anymore. 

You nodded, closing the inch of space, and wrapping your arms around him. As your face was pressed against his chest, Harry’s chin rested on the top of your head as you two held one another. It was a surreal but heartbreaking moment, but the two of you cherished the last several hours you had with one another. 

You lifted your head up, only to be met with his chin, and you pressed a kiss along with the sharpness of his stubble jaw; Harry sighed in relief. You hooked your leg around his waist, pulling him closer than he already was, and trailed your lips to his neck, sucking and licking his soft skin. Harry groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips into yours as the feel of your lips had that much of an effect on him. 

Shifting upwards so you were face-to-face, you looked in his eyes momentarily, taken back by his beauty. He was so immensely beautiful that he quite literally took your breath away. He almost didn’t seem real, so tangible, but he was definitely a sight. You’ve had a crush on him for more than a decade, and not once had it minimized into something frivolous or vanished; you hadn’t doubted your love for him and you never would. You were always going to have a crush on the Prince until the day you took your last breath when you would think about giving him one last kiss goodbye. 

Connecting your lips together, you felt like you were home. The peace his lips provided made you melt with every kiss, every single time his tongue glided over yours, or when he bit your bottom lip and pulled back a bit—just being connected to Harry physically and emotionally made you feel secure, and you couldn’t ask for anything more in life because you would be too greedy. 

In the midst of moving your lips in sync with his, he traced his tongue against your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, a moan leaving your lips. His tongue met yours, swirling and tasting one another as the grip you had on one another had stiffened, pulling each other closer. With your hips slightly grinding against his, the breathy moans that left his mouth, and Harry’s lips perfectly and gracefully kissing yours, the electrifying feeling was more powerful than ever. The spark ran down your back, making you want more as chills ran down the course of your body. You would always want more when it came to Harry; he had that appeal where he would leave everyone wanting for more, but luckily, you were the only one he would be giving it to. 

You pulled away, completely breathless by his soft and pink lips before you whispered, “Want you, please.” Your eyes were pleading with him to do anything to your body as you just wanted to feel his touch, his body against yours. 

“Sure?” He asked as he always did before you two ever had sex, and you appreciated the thought because it really showed how true of a gentleman that he was before he fucked you relentlessly into the mattress. 

“Mhm. Give it to me…one last time,” you sighed, curling your lips into your mouth as your fingers pushed away the curl that fell onto his forehead. 

He shook his head softly, disapproving of your choice of words. “Okay,” he responded, brushing off your statement as he gave you another kiss, unable to get enough of your sweet, cherry-flavored lips. 

Soft kisses were pressed against your cheek, trailing down your neck as he gave you a love bite; you threw your head back into the pillow, allowing him more access to your neck. His hands found the hem of your baby pink silk nightgown, bunching the soft fabric up to your waist as he held your thigh up to his waist, softly grinding his pelvis into yours. 

You sat up and raised your arms straight up before Harry took the chance to peel your nightgown off of your body and on the floor. You laid back down, completely naked, besides the necklace that rested perfectly on your skin, as his eyes bored into you, admiring your figure and being quite mesmerized by you as he always was. Your room was dark besides the soft glow of the moonlight that peeked through the window and casted down at your body, giving Harry a clear and beautiful vision of you. 

“So beautiful, my love. Take my breath away every single time I look at you,” he said softly. You shyly smiled under his state, finding it quite intimidating for a moment. 

Harry raised his arms and reached behind his head to take off his shirt, showcasing his tattoos that you’ve traced, counted, and kissed plenty of times throughout the years. His inked skin was something you loved most about him because despite being Royal blood, he still wanted to be himself—not someone people assumed he was as if they’d figured out his entire life and personality. Just Harry.

He was outright the most stunning man you’d ever laid your eyes on. You were sure there would be no one like him because there was only one Harry that you loved, only one person that you loved. 

You reached your hands out for him, and Harry slowly placed his weight on you. His lips sucked and licked the swell of your breasts and nipples, giving each the same amount of attention. You grabbed his face, bringing it up to your lips as you missed them. 

He molded his lips with yours for a few moments, enjoying your touch before you briskly flipped the two of you over so you were on top now. 

Harry smirked, hands immediately finding their way to your waist. “My girl wants to be on top, hmm?” You nodded as you began to take his striped pajama pants off; his cock was hard, sitting against his lower abdomen. You leaned down, licking one long stripe from the base to the tip, earning a raspy moan from your Prince before kissing up his body, making sure to leave a few love bites so he had something to remember you by in the morning on his wedding day. Call it petty if his new wife would see them tomorrow on their night as newlyweds, but rightfully so, he was yours and you had his heart first. 

You reached his neck, littering his skin as you sucked and licked. “Wanna feel you deep. Can you sit up, please?” 

“Always so polite. Of course, I can.” He sat up against the headboard, and you pressed your body against his as his cock laid perfectly between your folds. You could practically feel your arousal dripping onto his hard-on, so you slowly started to grind against his hard length as you feverishly kissed him. 

A throaty moan came out of both of you as your hands desperately held onto one another, grabbing whatever you both can to really feel each other. 

“Please,” he whimpered. “Need to feel you.” 

“Look who’s being so polite now, huh,” you teased, and Harry giggled. He loved being able to giggle and tease one another during the intimate times you two had together; it made things fun and less serious as you two were able to be yourselves around each other. 

You sat on your knees to raise your hips before you licked your hand and grabbed a hold of his cock, giving him a few pumps before you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, your walls hugged him tightly as he graciously filled you up. After five years, he still filled your walls and stretched you out as his thick and long size was something you still had to adjust to. A soft moan left both of your lips once you were fully on him, keeping yourself there for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Could stay like this for as long as possible,” he breathed out. 

You softly smiled. “Give me a moment. Always gonna need to adjust to you, just so big.” You praised him for endeavors, knowing he liked being praised; and he smirked. 

“All for you,” he breathed out, making you smile. 

After a minute or two, you started to move up and down on him, raising your hips until only his tip was inside of you before sinking back down, taking him in fully. He always hit that special spot in this position; with just one thrust, it had you moaning his name out like there was no tomorrow. 

You squeezed around him, making him throw his head back onto the headboard as he started to guide your hips that were working on grinding and bouncing onto him. Your movements began to pick up, finding a rhythm as you swiveled and grinded on his cock, feeling on edge already. 

His mouth attacked your tits as his hands squeezed and slapped your ass, leaving a red mark onto your skin, but you loved it, you always did. You wrapped your arms around your neck, hugging his face to your chest as he hugged your waist, keeping you close while kissing the valley of your breasts. 

His hands gripped your hips, pushing you down so you would stop your movements. You looked down in confusion as big doe eyes looked up at you. Pushing his hair back and scratching his scalp, you gave him a small smile, kissing his lips fully. 

“W-What’s wrong?” You asked once you pulled back from his lips, your voice soft and tender. 

“Just…wanna make this last longer.” 

You nodded, agreeing. “Okay.” You didn’t continue your movements after that, just simply staying seated on him, keeping him warm as he was tucked in away with your softness and warmth of your velvety walls. 

“I’ll love you forever, y’know that, right? Not gonna love another soul again,” he confessed sadly. 

“I know that, and I love you more than life itself. But baby, you’re getting married—spending the rest of your life with someone. You’ve ought to love her someday.” As hard as it was for you to tell him that he could love someone else, you knew that it was inevitable for him to catch feelings, especially for his new wife. 

He shook his head in disagreement. “No, no. I can’t do that, even if you’re telling me to love someone else, I physically and emotionally cannot open up my heart to someone who isn’t you.” His eyes were glassy; the moonlight still made his gorgeous green eyes sparkle. 

“I know, I know.” You lovingly placed a kiss onto his forehead, lingering your lips onto his skin for a moment as his fingers trailed down your spine. “Just know that I’m gonna love you forever, too.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling slightly; you nodded. “Please do. Need your love,” he sniffled, a tear slowly streaming down the side of his face. 

You wiped it away, leaning down to kiss his nose and lips. “Need your love too. Can you feel mine? Can you feel my love?” You asked as you began to start moving your hips. 

A throaty moan left Harry’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, I can feel it all over. Feel it everywhere—never want to not feel it.” He gripped your hips hard, squeezing the flesh as you whimpered. 

Slowly bouncing on him, you started to revive your orgasm as you started to whine and mewl, desperate to get there. Your thighs were shaking and burning from being on top and grinding on him for so long, and Harry started to see that as your movements slowed down and you had to take a few breaks. 

“Tired?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Okay, I got you, baby. Let me love you.” He shifted down so he was on his back and your body was pressed up against his. “Let me take care of you.” You nodded softly, burying your face into his neck, hiding away from him as you whispered from the movement. 

Harry planted his feet on the bed, bucking his hips and fucking up into you; it wasn’t fast, no, it was slow but his thrusts were hard. He was so deep that you felt the electrifying shock run down to your toes, making you curl them in. Hot breath hit his skin as you moaned out his name before he felt your lips continuously kissing, sucking, and licking his neck. 

“My Princess. My dream girl. Gonna love you forever. Gonna miss you, gonna miss this.” His voice cracked, hugging you tightly to his chest as he continued to thrust up into you. “Please, let me feel you,” he pleaded for your release. 

His cock was hitting your special spot as you were very close. After a few more thrusts, a few more moans, and a few more words that effortlessly slipped out of Harry’s mouth as he encouraged you to find your pleasure, you let go. Your beautiful sounds were muffled from the pillow and the way you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were quite overwhelmed as you began to sob, a quarter of your distress was because of how powerful your orgasm was, but most of it was because of how empty you would feel when you had left the Royal Grounds tomorrow morning, and how you wouldn’t see Harry anymore. 

Harry continued to fuck you, riding your high out before he spilled into you, loud and raspy moans slipped filled your ear as he moaned your name and how much he loved you. 

Once he calmed down, the room was in absolute silence beside the sounds of the gut-wrenching sobs that came from you. You were incredibly sensitive and emotional as you held onto him tight, Harry still inside of you. His heart was breaking as he started to quietly cry with you, which caught your attention, so you lifted your head up to face him. Witnessing Harry crying wasn’t your favorite sight to see; it pained you to see him so upset, and you wanted to take his pain away and keep it to yourself so he would be happy. 

“No matter what…” you started, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I’m gonna love you. And even though I’m not going to be physically next to you, you’re still gonna have my heart and you’ll feel how much I love you. Just…remember that, please?” 

Harry nodded. “And you’ll have my heart,” he reciprocated. 

“Mhm, and I’ll guard your heart for the rest of my life.” 

He pecked your lips sweetly. “I know you know this, but you’re my ship. You’re the thing that brings me home safely and securely while I lay out in the sun for hours and be completely content and happy with life. And no matter what storm you, or we, encounter, you’re always able to guide us to a brighter part of the Earth. And for that, I will love you forever. Got you inked on my skin permanently and I will cherish the memories and the love you have given me for the past twenty years.” 

His proclamations had you in tears, sniffling throughout his words. You knew how difficult it was for him to say those words because it meant that he was accepting his reality. 

You captured his lips in with yours, sobbing and shaking against them as you cried, holding onto one another for dear life as you two only existed in each other’s arms—forgetting about the outside world. Your heart had sunk so far into your stomach, making your insides feel like they were in knots. Harry had been your safety net for so long, your source of happiness and love. But now, he was going to be added to the list of people that you had lost; the first two being your parents. 

The three most important people in your life had sailed a ship far away from you and you weren’t able to see them anymore. Maybe in another lifetime, but right now, you needed them.

It was quite ironic how Harry thought you were his ship, something that kept him afloat and content when all you felt was the numbness, the pain, and the sinking of your heart, making the depth of the ocean feel so inviting. 

A shake on his shoulder had woken an exhausted Harry up. Inhaling deeply before letting out a groan, he opened his eyes to be met with the day ahead of him. If it were any other day, he would be met with his love, looking at him so lovingly and sweetly as you would beg him to get out of bed, but he would pull you to get in the covers with him before spending half an hour of making giggly and sweet love in the morning. 

But today wasn’t any other ordinary day…it was his wedding day, and the person waking him was Anne, sadly smiling down at him as she wore a rather beautiful lilac gown. He looked at her confusingly before taking a look around the room; he was in your room and that’s when he recalled the night prior. You two fell asleep holding onto one another, whispering lovely words into one each other’s ear, pretending that the next wasn’t happening so you two could be Y/N and Harry. 

“Morning, darling. I see you’ve made your way in here last night.” 

Harry sat up, looking down at his body; he was fully clothed, and he smiled to himself at how thoughtful you were to put his clothes back on. But his smile quickly disappeared when he took a clear look around the room. Your belongings were gone and the luggage that was packed wasn’t there anymore. A piece of him felt like it was ripped out of his chest, leaving him to suffer and sleep through the nightmare. 

He sighed deeply, chin meeting his chest. “She’s really gone, Mum.” 

Anne didn’t say anything but nod. She rubbed Harry back comfortingly as she kissed his forehead. She’s never seen her son so heartbroken before; sure, she’s had to distance herself from him, but she was always observant of Harry. She noticed that whenever he walked into every room, he had a smile on his face and that was because he was laughing at something you had said or blew him a kiss that made him flustered. So, Harry being so sad and heartbroken was a new kind of Harry that she will have to encounter because for most of his life, he was always happy, never had a complaint in his life, and that was because he had you. 

“She left you this.” Anne presented a white envelope, which made his eyes widen, but he immediately took it from her hands. The front of the envelope wrote Your Highness with a heart at the end, making his heart flutter. He looked up at his mother and she smiled at him, caressing his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Be quick to read that. The Queen is still expecting you to be married today,” she sighed. “You have to be ready soon—the ceremony starts in an hour. Be out of this room before anyone else catches you.” Anne walked towards the door, and before she walked out, she called out for him, making Harry lift his head up. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.” 

With that being said, she left your empty room, leaving him with the letter in his hands and your scent that swirled around the room, making him miss your presence even more. 

His hands shook as he carefully opened the envelope—you even spritzed some of your perfume that he loves so much as he brought the paper to his nose. Unfolding it, the letter was quite long—the entire page—and Harry could feel himself already getting emotional over it, but he read it anyway. 

My sweetest Harry, 

I am writing this in the early hours of the morning as you’re sleeping peacefully in my bed, hugging my pillow. You look so peaceful when you sleep, did you know that? Besides the occasional snoring, which I don’t mind because you know that I’m a snorer myself, you have this sense of calmness to you when you sleep. It makes me not want to wake you up in the mornings sometimes because you look like you’re at complete peace. But then I miss you too much and want your kisses so eventually, I do wake you up. 

I’m going to miss that, waking you up, and having a morning to ourselves where we get to be us. But I’m also going to miss all the other times we get to spend together. In the car on our way to events, in the courtyard running around like we’re kids, midnight strolls under the moonlight, and sneaky makeout sessions when you would pull me into a random room in the Royal House. 

I’m going to miss every single moment. 

It pains me that I am no longer by your side and we had to part this way. I’ve never felt so heartbroken in my life before, and I thought I wouldn’t ever get to feel this type of agony because I was with you. And we promised to not hurt each other, no matter what. But I’m proud of us because we kept our promise until the very end. We never hurt each other—we always talked it out and never left one another to fight one’s own battles. We were such a great team. The best team. 

You’re everything to me, Harry. My whole entire heart belongs to you, and it will always be yours as long as you hold onto it and keep it safe. Thank you for protecting my heart since we were kids. Thank you for always being there for me in a blink of an eye. You’ve truly helped me get me back on my feet when my father passed, and for that, I don’t know how to thank you enough. I felt like I'd lost the fight when he passed and I didn’t know what I was going to do, but then you reminded me that you were by my side, and for that, we won. 

It has truly been an honor to know you. To be in your presence. But to be in your heart is the greatest gift that I’ve ever received because you love like no other. There will be no other that’ll compete against you. It will always be you. 

My lips will remember the way you love, the way you taste. Your lips are my favorite, and I smile every single time I feel your touch because it’s quite unforgettable. 

You are my heart, my sun, my lover, my best friend, my dream boy, and my forever Prince that I will love for the rest of eternity. 

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me into your heart, Your Highness. 

Yours forever, 

Y/N. 

With his face slightly damped from the tears that streamed down his cheeks while his eyes were swollen and red, he cried into his hands once he finished reading your letter a third time in a row. The feeling in his chest felt like it was physically tearing him apart as it was difficult to catch his breath, gasping for air through his sobs. 

All he wanted to do was to hug you, hold onto you for the rest of his life, and he would be completely satisfied with everything. But you were soon to be on a boat, sailing away from Royal Grounds, further away from him. 

He looked down at the piece of paper, making sure to not wrinkle the last physical piece he had of you. You signed your name off with a heart at the end, admiring your handwriting that he never failed to compliment every time you would handwrite him a note. Bringing the paper to his lips, he kissed your name briefly, exhaling heavy breaths through his nose before pulling away and safely putting it back into the envelope. 

His heart grieved for you two because neither of you deserved this consequential punishment that broke you two apart. 

Standing at the altar in front of hundreds of people wasn’t something Harry imagined his wedding to be like. He pictured his guest list to be quite small, only the people he truly loved and appreciated. It definitely wouldn’t have been in a large venue that held six figures worth of art. And it wouldn’t have been Venus walking down the aisle, meeting him in a white long gown with a veil covering her face. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he felt slightly guilty. Harry knew it wasn’t his fault as to why he’s standing here, but he would have never thought he would ever be standing at the altar without you walking towards him. You two had talked about getting married and the wedding itself so many times that, naturally, it was the norm. Neither of you were scared of getting married to one another, so there was no need to worry about the other running away from the idea or the relationship. 

You always talked about wanting to get married in a garden where there would be bushes of flowers surrounding the area, giving the scene a pop of color. You two agreed on only wanting about fifteen to twenty people, most of the guests would come from Harry’s family and friends, and you would invite some of the staff that you had gotten quite close to throughout your life of living in the Royal House. You would ask Maria to walk you down the aisle as you wore a light champagne dress with hints of gold embedded into the dress; you always told Harry you didn’t want to wear a traditional white wedding dress because you would be too afraid to stain it, especially if you were going to walk on the grass. Harry didn’t mind one bit as long as you were the one walking down the aisle towards him; he would be the happiest man on Earth. 

But now as he watched Venus make her way towards him, this wasn’t the magical night he dreamed of ever since you two got together, and he wished this was a dream so you could wake him up as soon as possible. But you didn’t because it wasn’t a dream, and he realized that when he shook Venus’ father’s hand, giving her daughter away to marry the Prince as she was soon to become a Princess.

Harry and Venus stood in front of each other as she held his hands tightly, feeling that she needed to hold up his hands because he wasn’t holding onto her at all. Venus nervously gulped as she looked at the Prince; he wasn’t making eye contact with her nor the Priest. He was looking down at his shoes and the doors that she had entered as if he was impatiently waiting for someone to burst through those doors as he didn’t listen to a word of what the Priest had said. 

“Harry, do you take thee, Venus, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?” 

The moment was finally here as Harry blinked his tears away, knowing two words were going to change his whole entire life. 

Your heart was beating fast as you struggled to hold onto your belongings with your two arms. You rolled two suitcases that sunk their wheels through every crack of the wooden and old dock as you walked; your duffel bags took every other bump, struggling to remain on your luggage, making you stop once again to place it back in its rightful spot. Towards the side of the dock was a schedule on what time the faerie was arriving for departure, and you had about twenty minutes to spare if there were no delays. 

It was a quite gloomy day—unfortunate that Harry had to have this kind of weather on his wedding day, but maybe that was Mother Nature’s way of expressing her sadness with you. 

You looked at your small gold watch on your left wrist—an accessory your father had given you when you turned eighteen as he told you it was your mother’s and that she used to wear it all the time. The small watch made her feel powerful, independent, and a grown woman who had grown up from the beaded bracelets she used to make when she was younger. It was a piece of your mother that you got to keep with you wherever you went, so you cherished it with your whole heart. 

When it was nearing T-minus 5 minutes, you gathered your bags and headed towards the boat where every passenger crowded around. There were quite a few people and you hoped that the boat ride off the Royal Grounds was a quiet and smooth sailing ride because with the headache you’re enduring from crying and your heartbreak, you needed silence. 

One of the members of the faerie stood on the edge of the boat with a megaphone raised to his lips. “Attention! People who are boarding for the nine o’clock departure heading West of the Royal Grounds. We seem to have noticed a last-minute complication with the engine, which will delay us for about another thirty minutes. We will update you all if we need to switch boats, but for now, hang tight and hang around. Visit the Royal gift shop and get yourself a crown!” He finished his announcement as everyone groaned as you chuckled at everyone’s reaction. You didn’t mind the delay because it meant that you got to stay on the same ground as Harry for a bit longer, even though you weren’t able to see him. 

You headed towards a bench that overlooked the ocean and set your bags close by you as you grabbed an apple from your tote that you snatched from the kitchen on your way out of the Royal House. There were little kids running around with balloons in their hands while their parents tried to chase them, telling them to be careful or they’ll fall off the dock. 

Suddenly, a little boy jogged towards you, nearly startling you. “Hello, are you Y/N?” 

You raised your brows, leaning your arms on your thighs as you wondered how he knew your name. “Why, yes, I am. And who might you be?” You asked in a friendly tone. 

“I’m Russell. This is for you.” He handed you a bouquet of a gorgeous arrangement of daisies. 

“These are lovely, thank you! Did you pick these out yourself?” 

“No, I didn’t. I was told to give them to you. Your husband wanted me to give it to you!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“Really? And who might my husband be?” You amused him, not thinking seriously about his statement. But he suddenly pointed behind you, making you turn around in suspense. 

There he was, your Prince, smiling down at you as you looked up at him in pure disbelief. He looked dashingly handsome in a silk hot pink blouse and a floral embroidered black suit that suited him very well. You took a moment to observe him, trailing your eyes down to his hands, only to find his left ring finger bare. His face looked too happy to be married to someone who wasn’t you, but his smile looked as if it was relieved as if his worst nightmare had come to an end. He was relaxed, the complete opposite of the trepidation that he held for weeks. 

Your observation was coming to a conclusion, and once you realized what was happening, you matched his smile as you stood up. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsied, making him giggle. 

Before he could explain to you why he was standing in front of you with no security, he turned to the little boy who had helped him. “Russell, thank you for delivering the flowers to my wife.” 

“Your welcome, Prince Harry!” The little boy bowed excitedly before running off to his mother who was waiting and watching on the sidelines. 

Once Russell was safe with his mother, you turned back towards Harry. “Your wife, huh?” You raised your brows, teasing him as you masked your giddiness. You intertwined your hands behind yourself, containing yourself from reaching out and grabbing him. 

“Yeah, my actual wife—someday—not the one that was walking towards me earlier.” 

You smiled softly, still lost on why he’s in front of you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I left. I ran away from the altar. I couldn’t do it, Princess. No matter how mad the Queen would be, I couldn’t marry that woman,” he explained. You exhaled in relief, tears pricking your eyes. “I felt guilty, y’know? Never have I imagined standing at the altar without you. It was…weird and I didn’t like it.” 

“How did you even manage to do that? To run away?” 

Harry slightly chuckled. “Mum helped me.” 

“Really?” Your eyes widened as you were in shock. 

“Yeah,” he answered, explaining to you what happened thirty minutes prior to him racing to the dock to find you. 

When the Priest was reciting the vows, he waited on Harry’s promise to marry Venus. But Harry had turned his head to look at his mum before earning a nod of approval. He turned his head back to Venus, and she had some sort of look of understanding like she knew Harry clearly hadn’t signed up for this wedding—to marry her. Harry gave Venus a small smile that apologized for what he was about to do before turning to the Priest and telling him that he couldn’t do any of what he had said. The guests’ chatter had increased, some softly gasping as they wondered why the Prince wasn’t complying with the marriage. 

He let go of Venus’ hands, heading towards Anne to give her a kiss on the cheek. Anne had sneakily handed him a pair of keys to one of the Rolls Royce cars, and he smiled in appreciation. He glanced at Elaine, not even bothering to say goodbye to his Nan, but Elaine had a few words herself, so she grabbed Harry’s wrists before he walked down the aisle. 

“Walk out those doors, and you wouldn’t even be considered a Prince anymore, you are not allowed back on Royal Grounds if you walk out, and you are no longer going to be part of this family,” she warned, eyes piercing with such disappointment.

He gave Elaine one last look before yanking his arm out of her hold, which earned a loud gasp from the guests. Elaine looked around at the people who had watched the two, and she felt embarrassment heat up in her cheeks. 

Once Harry walked out the doors, he jogged to the front of the Royal House where Gemma had closed the trunk. He took his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly and gratefully. 

“Thank you, Gemma. For everything,” he said, giving her an extra squeeze. She patted his back before pulling away, giving him a smile. 

“I’m proud of you, H. Now, go and get her. I’ve already flagged down the captain and told him to delay the boat for thirty minutes, so you should hurry before the other passengers start to fret. And the boat you two are going on should be ready by the time you’re there.” 

He smiled. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you soon? I’ll call you from wherever I am.” She nodded, telling him to reach out soon. “You take care of yourself, alright? Don’t take shit from her. You and Sebastian deserve to be with each other.” 

“I will. I won’t. And yes, we do,” she answered in the order Harry said, making him chuckle. “Now, go. You’re making her wait.” She patted his back once more before he got into the car. 

With one last wave, he was off to the docks where the love of his life was waiting for him. 

“So, here I am,” Harry said with a smile, arms opening as he presented himself. You smiled widely, giggling. You were still in shock how he simply gave up his family and his position to once rule the country for you. You knew he would do anything for you, but this was more than anything—this was leaving his family for good, walking away from being connected to royalty. And he left it all behind. For you. 

“Here you are,” you breathed out a chuckle. “I can't believe you’re here. That you didn’t marry that woman.” 

“You know I couldn’t do that. You’re the only one I want to marry, the only one I wanna see walk down the aisle, wearing a beautiful champagne gown.” You were slightly taken back, tears glazing your eyes; he remembered the small detail you had told him about not wanting to wear a traditional white dress to your wedding. “So, you’re not the Prince anymore, hmm?” 

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna leave me to find another Prince, are you?” He joked, raising his brows. You playfully slapped his chest, but he caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. 

“Course not. I’ve had a Prince of my own for the past five years.” You unconsciously reached towards him to straighten his jacket. He pulled you forward by the hand that he was already holding, and your chest was pressed together against his with your faces inches away from one another as you looked up at him. 

“Our six-year anniversary is coming up soon. How should we celebrate?” 

“Hmm, now that we have all the time in the world, wanna go on vacation? I’ve been dying to go to Italy,” you suggested, and Harry’s eyes lightened up as if you had suggested the greatest idea ever. 

“I would love that. Where in Italy are you thinking about? Because I’ve been thinking of the Amalfi Coast. Think about it…driving along the coast, cliff diving, swimming in the ocean. Sounds nice, huh?” You nodded your head at his plans. 

“Sounds amazing. Maybe we could…get married there?” You suggested another plan hesitantly, testing the waters to see how he felt about it. 

“You wanna get married? Next month?” You nodded your head. “Are you proposing?” 

“Only if you say yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his chin. 

“You know I will.” A tint of pink hit his cheeks as he smiled down at you. 

He leaned down to place a tender kiss on the tip of your nose, and when he pulled back, your eyes sparkled with such love and happiness—a gleam that he’s missed seeing in your eyes, and a gleam he would make sure was always there as long as you two were together. 

“Well, in that case…Your Highness, my love, will you do the honor of becoming my husband in one month?” You asked with a hopeful and playful tone as you couldn’t contain your smile. 

“Of course, my Princess. Wouldn't wanna be by anyone else,” he answered as you softly squealed. 

Harry placed his hands on your jaw, gently bringing your face to his. His forehead rested against you as the tip of your noses touched, giving one another an Eskimo kiss. Your lips merely brushed together so delicately as you smiled once you felt his touch. With one last small touch, Harry kissed you with such passion and devotion as you two moved your lips in sync. The kiss spoke every beautiful and exquisite word in the dictionary that it wouldn’t be enough to describe how tenderly and passionate he kissed you, and how much love your heart held for him. 

 Neither of you cared if there were bystanders, wondering why the Prince was kissing someone in the middle of the Royal Grounds, in public. But there was not one hint of care because you two were together, and this kiss indicated what’s to come for the rest of your lifetime. 

He pulled away, and you were so caught up in the sensation and the feeling that you didn’t realize that he had stopped kissing you. When you opened your eyes, you were met by your favorite green eyes that stared at you with a big smile on his face, dimple indenting his face. 

“I love you so much, Princess, you have no idea.” His words were slow, hoping to engrave them into your mind so you wouldn’t forget it. 

“And I love you, too, Your Highness.” He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, too quick for your liking. 

“Now, c’mon, we have a ship to catch.” Harry grabbed one of your bags as he held one of the duffle bags on his shoulder. He informed you that you two were going to take the family ship and that his belongings were already loaded on the ship. 

You nodded, grabbing the other luggage and duffle bag. You turned around, taking a look back at the Royal House that peeked behind many buildings and trees. This was the end of the story, and it was time to start a new one. You were able to close the book and set it down while you reflect on the memories you had made in one house with the one person who had your heart. 

Sure, you don’t know where you and Harry would be settling down; maybe you two would constantly move around and travel the world since neither of you got the chance to do so, but whatever the universe had in store for you both, you were glad to do it with Harry by your side. 

“Hey, are you coming with or what?” Harry called out, making you turn around. A smile that was brighter than the sun was plastered on his face as his arm reached out in front of him, palm facing up, telling you that it was time to leave. That it was time to start a new life together. 

You smiled, walking towards him as your eyes were glossy. Taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, he held your hand tight as you two crossed the ramp that was securely resting on the edge of the dock and the edge of the boat. 

You leaned against the railing of the boat, looking out at the deep ocean that you once felt like you were drowning in. But once Harry’s arms wrapped around your waist, chest pressed up against your back while his lips attached to the skin behind your ear, you no longer felt like your ship was sinking. It was smooth sailing and immensely happy. 

please come into my inbox and tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

[gliphyartfan]

@yandere-linked-universe @stars-for-thought @linked-heroes @ice-cream-writes-stuff

@imprisioned-in-the-hole I loved your prompt and couldn't resist! Hope I did it justice!

Wind has a strong presence in this one, that wasn't planned by the way.

Enjoy!

'I'll be fiine guys.'

She totally should have saw this coming.

'This is Wars' era, wandering the market won't that bad.'

Yep— these past few days had been too damn calm for the all of them,

'I'll be gone for an hour! Two hours tops! Promise!'

Of course something like this was going to go and happen.

'This. fucking. sucks!' She grunted, slowly slide down the rope she made out of the sheets in the room she was trapped in.

This is what happens when you jinx yourself.

'Everything will be fine!' Oh suuure, the first hour was delightful.

Saw some items,

Chatted with some folks,

Even got to pet a few dogs!

But the second hour-

'His Grace wishes to discuss some things with you.'

'Sorry, you got the wrong person. Plus I don't feel comfortable with-'

'That wasn't a request.'

'...-!!'

She should have know there would have been someone behind her.

It's always when it's out of your mind that it happens.

And now she was trying to escape her own wedding. And the crazy Duke that wanted to marry her.

She wasn't a hero damnit!

'I'm gonna get lectured so badly after this!' She grunted as she reached the end of the rope, her feet dangling in the air for a moment as she tried to figure out what to do next.

'Damn you laws of physics and gravity!' She whispered to herself.

Physics and gravity decided to take her insult personally as the rope loosened its hold on the railing, causing her to fall into the bushes two feet below her.

'Urk-branch! Branch!' She hissed in pain, reaching underneath and removing the branch poking at her back.

As she rubbed the area, brushing the crumpled sheet from her head, she checked her hand to make sure she wasn't bleeding.

Before she could plan her next move, she stilled as she heard the heavy thuds and clanks of armour approach nearby.

The movement came closer, she used her place in the bushes to keep hidden. Slowly parting the leaves next to her with one hand, she used what visibility she had to discover that yes, it was a pair of guards and the conversation that flowed through the air confirmed they weren't Hyrule guards.

Drat.

'Is the Duke really gonna marry that girl?'

'Seems to be the case. He's been very pleased with himself too. Looks like he's trying to get the wedding done by tonight.'

Double drat.

'I don't blame him, you've seen that girl? Bet he's eager for the wedding night.'

Okay. NO.

'Haha! A beauty like that for a wife would be quite the status boost.'

The guards walked past the bush and it's hidden occupant.

Had they looked back, they would have seen a displeased glare directed their way.

(y/n) huffed and looked around, trying to remember where the exit was.

With another glance around, she picked up her dress and slowly made her way out of the bushes, pausing momentarily before taking off the heels she was forced to wear

'I can't run and climb in this dress.' Trying to think about what to do next, she looked down at her clothes.

'Hmm...'

--

'WHERE IS SHE.'

'Link please-'

'Don't tell me to calm down Zelda!'

Wind bit his lip as Warriors marched up to the princess' face and growled.

'Impa is having her men search the castle and surrounding areas, we will find her.' Zelda tried to reassure him, taking a step back when he glared.

'It's been a WEEK and you have nothing to show for it!' He ran a head through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm down.

'You know I've been busy with-'

'With the Grand Duke of the farther kingdom who is here as a token of peace and unity between kingdoms.' Warriors recited irritably. 'Yes, very understandably important when someone went missing under the watch of YOUR men.'

'She was last seen in the market, we have blocked the gates and are inspecting every individual leaving the city.' Zelda gave Warriors a look.

'And might I remind you that they are also your men?'

'Apparently not anymore with how you let them slacked off!'

'Excuse me-'

Wind sighed as they started arguing again.

They were getting nowhere.

'This is going nowhere.' Wind turned and saw Hyrule coming up next to him, watching the arguing duo.

'Any luck with the others?' He asked quietly, not surprised when Hyrule shook his head.

'Twilight is using Wolfie to catch any scents but the storm has made that difficult. Time is with Legend and Wild speaking to the merchants and Four is with Sky speaking with the guards.' Hyrule replied, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Wind felt the same way.

None of them were able to sleep well since she went missing. The only reason they slept at all was because they needed to be rested enough in the event a fight comes their way.

But the lack of her presence was deeply felt.

'Any luck here?' Hyrule asked hollowly, already knowing the answer but still asking.

Wind simply gestured to the still arguing duo.

'Is she even still in town?' He couldn't help but ask, not wanting to think of the possibility that she was far away, but it was necessary.

'She has to be,' Hyrule reassured,smiling weakly. 'The town went on lockdown almost immediately.'

Wind returned Hyrule's smile with a weak one of his own.

They turned back to the duo, feeling more tired as they listened to the princess justify her duties.

'I am already dealing with the Grand Duke and I can't give anymore of my attention to this than I already have.' Warriors just gave her a look.

'I wouldn't be bothering so much if you allowed me access to his guest quarters.' It was Zelda's turn to glare at him.

'You know I cannot do that, he is a guest and has nothing to do with her disappearance.' Only Wind and Hyrule noticed the way Warriors hand twitched, as if desiring to reach for his sword.

Not that they could blame him.

'I am not accusing him Princess,' he said through gritted teeth. 'I am merely requesting-'

'That I allow you access to his quarters.' The displeased expression on the princess' face only matched the captain's.

'Annnd they're arguing again.' Wind muttered, watching them fall back into another verbal brawl.

'The only place we haven't looked is the guest wing.' Hyrule whispered, wringing his hands.

'You think we should sneak in?' Hyrule looked at the arguing pair and nodded.

'Yeah...it's better than assuming nothing is there.'

'Alright...Wars!' The angered captain looked at them, a scowl on his face.

'Rulie thinks he has a lead at the market so I'm heading out with him.' Wind kept a casual look on his face, staring Warriors in the eyes.

Warriors was quiet for a brief moment before he grunted and turned back to arguing his case with the princess.

But he was less tense than he was a moment before.

He understood what they were going to do.

'He'll keep her distracted.' Wind murmured, tugging Hyrule out of the room.

'And Impa?' Wind sighed and rubbed his shoulder.

'Still searching the market place I bet, we gotta be quick.'

And with that, they both headed to the guest wing of the castle.

---

The guest wing wasn't too far away, probably for the convenience of whatever foreign guests came to visit.

But it was walled off and the Grand Duke's personal guard was patrolling the area, forcing the duo to sneak their way in.

'I really hope we find something.' Hyrule whispers, the two stilling as a guard passed by their hiding place.

'Best place to look is the most obvious place.' Wind reassured. 'And the most obvious place is a area that's being guarded by enemy guards.'

Hyrule didn't correct him about the guards.

If she was here, they were enemies.

'Let's look through the rooms! Top or bottom floor?' Hyrule hummed.

'We're good at escaping from higher levels, and there's only two floors, let's start low and move up.'

They worked together, both alerting the other when a guard was close.

Soon they snuck passed the majority and reached the first set of rooms.

Then the second set.

Then the third.

They moved up to the second floor and quietly searched through each room.

It was in the Grand Duke's room that they found incriminating evidence on his desk.

'I can't read this language,' Wind whispered harshly as he glared at the papers in front of him. ' but I know (y/n)'s name anywhere!'

'Take it, we can sure it to the princess.' Hyrule whispered back, keeping watch at the door. He tensed when he saw a couple of guards round the corner. 'We need to go!'

'This is the last room and we haven't found her!'

'We found evidence and that's a better than what we had before, now move!'

It took some time to shuffle out the window and climb down, but they were successfully able to make their escape from the guest wing without notice.

'A lead, that's good.' Wind gasped, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

'But still no (y/n)' Hyrule bite his thumb nervously. 'I hope she's okay...'

'We can't lose hope!' Wind grunted, stretching his back and sighing.

'Let's go, we need to show these papers to the others before we give it to the princess-'

The sailor went rigid, eyes snapping forward, widening.

'What's wrong Wind?' Hyrule asked worriedly, hand on the younger teen's shoulder.

The teen bit his lip to keep his expression from crumbling and his breath was shaky,

'(y/n)...?' Hyrule's own eyes widened and his head snapped to look when Wind was staring.

There, in a torn dirty white dress, no shoes, and messy hair, was their beloved goddess looking around, visibly distressed.

'(y/n)..?' Wind raised his voice, hope as visible in his tone as it was in his eyes.

Hyrule's heart felt such relief as their beautiful goddess' head snapped in their direction.

The smile she gave them was simply magnificent as she immediately ran toward them.

The moment she was close, she wrapped her arms around the both of them and began to cry, relief filling her.

'You have no idea how happy I am to see you two!' She hugged them closer.

'WE'RE happy to see you!' Wind sighed happily, resting his head in her shoulder, both him and Hyrule hugging her as tightly as she was hugging them.

Just having her in their arms was a blessing they treasured so much.

'Where have you been? How did you escape?' She sighed and shook her head.

'I'd rather tell it one time.' She looked around.

'Please tell me the others are near by?' She whispered, absolutely exhausted and didn't want to deal with any more drama.

'Well...no. They are looking for you in town. We snuck into the guest wing to look for you.' Hyrule answered apologetically, heart clenching when she sniffled.

Wind frowned for a moment before he gasped in excitement.

'I'll rally them up!' Hyrule and (y/n) looked at him in confusion as he reached into his pouch.

'Wild has the slate! And if he has the slate-' he pulls out what he was searching for.

'Then we can reach him with this!' (y/n) tilted her head.

'A...stone?' Wind grinned at them, the pirate's charm dangling from his fingers.

'A COMMUNICATION stone!' (y/n) gasped in delight and gave Wind another hug.

'Call him! Call him!' Wind laughed and activated the stone.

'Um, I've been meaning to ask...' Hyrule quietly said to (y/n) who looked at him innocently. '...About your..outfit...'

Wind ignored them for a brief moment as Wild's tired voice came from the pirate's charm.

'What is it sailor?'

'Guess who me and Hyrule found!' Wind grinned as he heard gasps.

'You found her?! Is she safe?!'

'They found her?!'

'She's okay! We're by the-'

'HE WANTS TO MARRY YOU?!'

Wind turned his head so fast, he winced at the pop he felt, the loud yells coming from his charm filling the air.

'WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?!!' (y/n) winced as she realized the panic she just caused

'Uh-'

He couldn't help it, Wind laughed, soft and just a little hysterical.

Of course an insect had to pop up when they let their guard down.

---

'Where is she.'

'Sir, we have our men searching for her this very moment.'

'I want her found by TONIGHT, the wedding will go as planned.'

'Of course sir!' The Grand Duke scowled as his guard walked off.

He is so close to raising his status.just another day and he would have been on top of the social world. He sneered, like a child, storming down the halls of the guest wing.

'Should have simply left with her when I had the chance.' He ran a gloved hand down his face.

To think he had one of the heroes of legend in his grasp only for her to have slipped through his fingers.

He'll have to make sure to teach her a lesson.

'Sir!' He sighed irritably, turning to see another one of his guard approaching him.

'What is it? Did you find her?' The guard looked nervous.

'Sir, Princess Zelda is requesting your presence in the throne room at once.' The Grand Duke tensed and stared at the guard.

'Are you sure?' The guardsman nodded, stepping back when the Duke growled.

'Of all the times...' He looked back at the guardsman. 'Continue looking for the girl.'

After the guardsman nodded, he decided to get it over with and headed to the throne rooms.

--

--

'Grand Duke, thank you for coming at such a short notice.'

'Your Highness.' The Grand Duke bowed to her, as he rose he noticed the nine gentlemen standing to either side of her.

The heroes of legend.

The Grand Dukes greed brought to mind the rise in his status at what might be a possible meeting with the legendary nine.

He was to arrogant to realize the cold looks he was receiving from them.

She smiled, nodding in greeting. 'I apologize for disturbing your day Grand Duke, I understand how frustrating it can be, but I heard of a strange rumor recently and I had hoped you would clarify it for me?'

'Please rest assured Princess, I will do all that I can to assist you.' He said, smiling openly, the perfect gentleman.

'Splendid. Now,' She dropped the smile. 'Did you conspire to abduct the heroes' companion and force her to wed you?'

The Grand Duke froze, paling as the question registered in his head.

'Wha-'

'Ah. Before I continue, allow me to properly introduce the gentleman before me-'

'There is no need your Highness,' calmly interrupted Time, coldly gazing down at the nervous Nobleman. 'He is as aware of our identities as we are aware of his.'

'I-'

'And you seem to be very aware of the identity of our most dearest companion.' Legend hissed from his place next to Time, glaring daggers at the unsettled man.

The Grand Duke's expression twisted into fear, anger, and panic.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he cleared his throat. 'I'm sure I don't know what you're speaking of.' He calmly answered.

'Perhaps a misunde-'

' A misunderstanding? I'm sure.' Warriors scoffed, looking at Zelda with a raised eyebrow.

She sighed "Lets not fool ourselves here, we all know what this is about.' She stared sternly at him. 'You abducted the young woman known as (y/n) and were conspiring to wed her for...status?'

'She isn't very happy about being kidnapped.' Wild said casually, as if he was not wishing he could jam a bomb down the Grand Duke's throat and detonate it.

It seemed the arrogant man could barely handle being talked down in such a way. His clenched fists trembled in anger.

'I will not allow such accusations to be made against my person!' He looked at Zelda, face flushed in anger.

'If you believe that our kingdoms will be allied after this, I assure you that-'

'If your kingdom is full of noblemen like you, than Hyrule would benefit by NOT allying with you.' Warriors interjected, ignoring Zelda's stern look towards him, looking down his nose at him.

'You have no proof!' Warriors sighed and nodded.

'I suppose I don't.' He was silent until the Duke looked smug before he matched his expression with one of his own, pointing behind the Duke.

'But she's proof enough.'

'Oh, so I'm demoted to proof now, am I?'

The Duke went rigid, his mouth snapping shut on the words just spoken as he slowly turned his head-.

An dispassionate look directed right at him.

'Apologies my Angel.' Warriors smiled softly at her. 'No insult meant.'

'Hmm.' She raised an eyebrow, a brief glance at Warriors before looking at the Grand Duke.

'(y/n) I ask for complete honesty.' Zelda commands. 'Was the Grand Duke the man behind your abduction with intention to force you to wed him?' (y/n) nodded.

'Yes your Highness.' Zelda closed her eyes and sighed.

'Very well, I will arrange for his departure tonight.' The Grand Duke's face a unique combination of red and enraged yet also paling.

'T-This will not stand! When my king hears of this-.'

'We have already sent your king the information of your crimes.' The princess proclaimed to the unsteady nobleman.

'Y-you-'

'You are no longer welcomed within the borders of Hyrule Kingdom and are henceforth outlawed from ever returning. Impa shall escort you to the guest wing to retrieve your belongings.'

Zelda then turned and strode away, but not before sending an apologetic glance at Warriors.

He simply returned her look with a blank one.

(y/n) walked passed the royal knights that now surrounded Grand Duke and made her way to the group.

'I'm so glad you guys found me.' She said with relief in her voice.

'You ended up saving yourself dear.' Time chuckled, reaching up and cupping her cheek. 'And we were panicking like we lost our minds.'

'I was panicking when Wind and Hyrule popped up.' She admitted. 'Trust me, I was so happy and relieved to be found by you guys.'

'We'll always find you (y/n)!' Wind chirped, wrapping his arms around her waist, causing her to giggle.

'Well I guess it has it's uses.' She clapped her hands.

'I'm hungry and demand all the cuddles! I hated this week!' Wild was already pulling out his slate and looking through his inventory.

'I'll make a meal that'll taste so good, you'll forget this week ever happened!' (y/n) grinned in delight.

'That's what I want to hear!'

The Chain surround her as they guided her out of the throne room, the angry cries of the Grand Duke not worth notice.

Yet two members of the group lingered behind.

And they were eyeing the fuming nobleman with calculating eyes.

'We could have been a bit more...hands on with his punishment... ya know that don't you old man...?' Wind commented, his treasured wind waker in one hand.

'As enjoyable as it would be, I don't want to spend a moment longer away from Her.' Wind sighed but nodded in agreement , crossing his arms, tapping his wind waker against his chin.

'So the storm will kill him?' Time nodded, inspecting his Ocarina casually.

'I have more than enough magic to conjure one strong enough.'

'You've already had Wild damage parts of the ship correct?' Wind nodded. 'Than once I summon the storm, make sure the winds finish the job.'

Wind hummed. 'Kay.'

They both looked at the shrinking form of the dead man walking.

'Ugh, I hate bugs.' Wind huffed, a disgusted look on his face.

Time stared at the Duke until he could not see him no more.

'Hm..So do I...'

That night, the group of nine celebrated the return of their most beloved member, lavishing her with their affection and as she requested, all the cuddles she asked for.

(That night, reports were received by two kingdoms that notes a vicious storm appeared as the Grand Duke's ship sailed beyond the Hyrulian sea borders. Destroying the ship beyond recognition. There were no survivors.)

[alwaysmarveling]

Storm

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Storms are the perfect weather for building forts, and Wanda’s going to make sure you don’t miss out on it.

A/N: I meant to get this out earlier, but then my arm turned into a human chicken wing (I know it makes no sense, you’re just gonna have to believe me)... anyway, I apologize for the delay, I hope you enjoy it!

Wanda woke to feel the bed shaking—no, scratch that. She woke up to feel the entire house shaking. The floors trembled, and the bedside lamp shook… Wanda braced herself to make sure none of the pictures on the walls fell down. As the thunder subsided, she relaxed slightly only to tense back up again at a loud whoosh. The buzzing that she was previously unaware of completely dissolved, leaving her in complete silence. Well, complete silence if she didn’t count the pounding of the rain against the windows, the howling wind, or the thunder that was bound to come back again. Sure enough, when she tried to turn on the lamp, no light appeared; the power had gone out.

A flash of lightning and a quick glance to her right told her that you were somehow still sound asleep. Your head was inches from her own, your own pillow forgotten and tossed to the side at some point during the night. No matter how far away the two of you were when you went to bed, as long as you were in the same bed, you somehow ended up using Wanda’s pillow instead of your own. And while some might find your hair tickling their nose or your soft snores right next to their ear to be annoying, Wanda thought it was nothing but angelic.

A catlike grin grew on Wanda’s face as she leaned over to wrap her arms around you. When you still didn’t stir, she began to press light kisses starting behind your shoulder and trailing up to your ear.

“Baaabe,” Wanda whispered. Her voice was both gentle and filled with urgency. “Malysh, wake up.”

“Huh? What’s going on?” With your sleepiness now turned bewilderment, you were able to notice how your girlfriend was trying and failing to stifle her giggles. “Wan, it’s still dark out,” you whined. “I’m sleepy.” You let out a huff and were two seconds away from throwing yourself back into the pillow when Wanda pulled you in to kiss the top of your head.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice muffled by your hair, “The power went out.”

“Okay. Night night.” The witch watched with a pout as you slid back down, a small grin playing on your lips as you closed your eyes.

“Detkaaa,” Wanda sang, poking your side lightly, “Let’s build a fort.”

“Okay,” you murmured, not paying attention enough to tell what you had agreed to. When you didn’t shift in the slightest, your girlfriend’s eyes narrowed. The romance movies had always promised her adventure, but here she was, ready and rearing to go, while the only adventure you were taking was from one side of the bed to the other, and not in a good way.

Had you been awake, you would have noticed how Wanda’s eyes lit up, the Cheshire cat grin returning as she realized how to get you up. The witch turned on her side, wrapping her arm around you. A low hum escaping from your lips told her that her plan was working; you thought she was going back to sleep. So, when a flash of lightning lit up the room and Wanda shot up with a gasp, you did too.

“Oh my god! Y/N, there’s a mouse!”

“What?! Where?” Arms slipping and legs flailing, you pushed yourself backwards into your girlfriend’s chest. You were too busy looking for the mouse to notice how your girlfriend was strangely unaffected by the presence of the rodent.

“Can we build a fort now?”

“Are you kidding me? Where’s the mouse?”

“Malysh… there’s no mouse. I just wanted to wake you up.” As much as Wanda wanted to give you an innocent look when you turned to look at her, she couldn’t help but burst into laughter at your raised eyebrows and gaping mouth.

“I hate you,” you muttered, closing your lips and narrowing your eyes at the still giggling witch. With that, you fluffed Wanda’s pillow and laid back down. Wanda watched you as you stared at the ceiling. You both knew you weren’t going back to sleep any time soon.

“So… the fort?”

“No.” Your girlfriend brought her fingers up to brush against the swell of your cheek.

“Pleeeeaaasseee?”

“No.”

“We can snuggle in the fort! And eat ice cream! And I’ll play with your hair after!” You knew she wasn’t going to give up until you said yes. To be fair, it sounded like a lot of fun, but you didn’t need her knowing that. So, with one big sigh and a dramatic eye roll, you slowly pushed yourself to sit back up.

“Fine. But none of this would be a problem if we just stayed in the Avengers Tower because the generator would be working.” Your girlfriend didn’t miss a beat as she jumped out of bed.

“Well, we’re not in the Avengers Tower, so we’re going to make a blanket fort. Now, come on.” She didn’t give you any time to go back on your answer, instead scooping you up in her arms and carrying you bridal style into the living room. She laughed at the squeak you let out before pressing a soft kiss to your browbone.

“I love you,” the brunette whispered.

“You’d better.” Now slightly less wary, you allowed yourself to melt into her arms. “It’s like 5 AM and you woke me up to build a blanket fort.”

“Actually, it’s 2:30…” Wanda barely moved in time as you shot upwards.

“2:30?! Wanda!”

“But, babe, the power is out! And it’s all stormy!” As if the world agreed with her, the walls trembled with another clap of thunder. “Perfect time to build a fort.” Your girlfriend set you down once you reached the living room, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not letting her move away. “Malysh,” Wanda giggled, “You gotta let me go. We can cuddle once we build the fort.”

“‘S gonna take too long.” You buried yourself further into Wanda’s embrace, closing your eyes as she wrapped her arms around you.

“Cute, but…” You groaned as she pulled your arms off of her. “No more than thirty minutes. I promise.”

---

Unfortunately for you, Wanda was incorrect. One confusion-filled hour later, the two of you finally had the fort set up to Wanda’s liking (You couldn’t really care one way or another, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the absolutely adorable look of pride and glee on Wanda’s face when she clapped her hands together underneath her chin, sighing that, at last, the fort was perfect.).

The witch placed one hand on the small of your back to guide you in between the light blue cotton sheets that hung overhead—”It’ll be like the sky, detka!”—and the pillowy faux mink blankets that cushioned the hardwood floors. With a sleepy grin gracing your lips, you pushed yourself into the throw pillows the two of you had scavenged the house for to line the back of the fort and waited for your girlfriend to join you.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” the Sokovian exhaled as she wrapped an arm around your waist. She wasn’t wrong. The thunderstorms had yet to let up, and from Wanda’s strategic planning, the two of you had the perfect view of the rain hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights shining through the plump drops that rolled down the glass. Small camping lanterns lit the actual fort, and Wanda had even found some fairy lights to string along the top. You didn’t have much time to admire the view, though, because the second you rested your head on Wanda’s shoulder, the house shook again as another loud rumble of thunder boomed, and the entire fort came crashing down on your heads.

As tired as you were, neither of you could help but burst into laughter at the irony of the situation. “Oh, yes... this is perfect… Wan,” you managed to get out in between the contractions of your stomach as you giggled. 

Someone could’ve taken the situation as a bad omen for your life together, overanalyzed it until they determined the two of you would never be fit for a future with each other in it, but for you guys, it was perfect; you could’ve stayed there forever, still wrapped in Wanda’s arms, the sheets now draped over your heads making it difficult for you to see anything but the lower half of Wanda’s face. But her laughter was the prettiest thing you’d ever had the privilege of hearing, her teeth sparkled as a beam of light from one of the lanterns managed to catch them, and you could just make out the beauty marks speckled across her face, the ones you loved to spoil with kisses until your girlfriend got impatient and guided your lips to hers.

When the two of you had finally caught your breath, you noticed a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, and the fort was reassembled in seconds. The remaining smile on your face immediately disappeared as you met Wanda’s eyes.

“Wanda, you couldn’t just do that the first time?”

“Nope.” The shake of her head was playful, though, which was more than enough to tell you what you needed to know.

“You totally could’ve.”

“Okay, maybe I could’ve, but it wouldn’t have been as fun.”

“Wan!” Your eyes narrowed further at her growing amusement, and you only relaxed slightly as your girlfriend brought you in closer to her side.

“Do you want your snuggles or not?”

“Yes please.” There was no way that you could’ve said no, especially now that you had already melted into the warmth of her embrace and sleepiness once again tugged at your eyelids. And so the two of you stayed that way for a while, with your legs draped over Wanda’s, your head resting on her shoulder and her head pressed against yours. In between the drawn-out blinks and heavy breaths, you managed to catch flashes of lightning and noticed how the flurries of rain would swell and fall repeatedly, never a consistent drizzle or downpour. Perhaps the one thing keeping you awake was the thunder. Wanda didn’t miss how you jumped slightly every single time it rumbled.

“You scared, printsessa?” your girlfriend murmured as she gently scratched your scalp in an effort to calm you down.

“Just a little startled is all,” you hummed sleepily as you pushed yourself further into her. “Could never be scared when you’re here.” Even though you were almost asleep, Wanda was quite awake, and she couldn’t help but smile at your sincerity.

“I love you,” she murmured with a kiss to your forehead.

“And I love you more.”

A comfortable silence settled itself between the two of you once again as Wanda went back to watching the storm and you played with her fingers. A thought came to you, and with you being as exhausted as you were, you barely noticed when it slipped through your lips and made itself known to Wanda.

“Wands, what would you say to having someone else to watch the storms with us?” It wasn’t until Wanda responded that you realized you had spoken out loud.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” The brunette pulled away from you slightly to study your face.

“Can we get a dog?”

“Yes! Of course!” All you could manage was a drowsy smile as Wanda cheered in excitement. “You have any ideas?” she asked after pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Hmm… maybe a bernedoodle? They’re really cute and really sweet.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” your girlfriend agreed. “Or maybe a-”

“And they have such cute eyes. Oh Wanda, the eyes.” Wanda paused as you let out a dreamy sigh.

“Malysh…”

“What?” You kept your gaze directed at Wanda’s fingers as you continued to fiddle with them because you knew you’d crack the second you made eye contact with her. Obviously, though, it was pointless since she had already figured you out.

“You got one already, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, fine,” you sighed. “Yes.”

“Printsessa, I love you, but we’re supposed to talk about these things together!” The continued presence of her warmth and her hand that had never left your waist told you that she wasn’t mad, and you were extremely grateful for that.

“I know, I know, but he was so cute, and I couldn’t say no, and you just had to be there, Wands! You wouldn’t have said no if you were there.” Wanda simply sighed, knowing that, as much as she’d rather not admit it, you were right.

“What’s his name?” she finally asked, resting her chin back on the top of your head.

“Storm.”

“You were really waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell me, huh? And how long have you known about this?” You shrunk slightly at the sternness that filled her voice.

“Maybe a couple of days…”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, maybe a couple of weeks. Or months.”

“Detka! So when is the dog getting here?” 

“This weekend!” The witch’s head spun at how long you had managed to keep the secret from her. And while she loved the thought of getting a dog with you, she was certainly not expecting it to happen this soon, especially since you had only just brought it up minutes ago. But she couldn’t help but laugh when you responded with such excitement, your body perking up even though you were so close to dozing off in her arms. As excited as you were, you couldn’t help but tense up after sharing that with Wanda. She’d taken the initial news better than you expected, but this…

“You’re lucky I love you,” Wanda finally sighed, and it was with that that you were able to relax once again.

“What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

“Don’t push it,” the witch grumbled, and you two chuckled, rain still pounding down on the house and the storm just as lively as before.

---

It didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep with the burden you’d been carrying for months now spilled and accepted. Wanda continued to look mindlessly out the window, focusing for one moment on a particularly fat drop rolling down the window before switching to another. She thought about how you’d tensed up each time you revealed a new piece of the secret to her, and if she was being honest, it hurt her a little. She wanted you to be able to come to her with anything, trust her with anything, without having to feel guilty or ashamed. The witch pulled her eyes away from the window to watch your sleeping form.

“I’m always going to love you, malysh. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be sure to hold down the fort from now on, I promise. No more collapsing in two seconds.” With a final soft giggle and a kiss to your head, she allowed herself to rest. She’d keep her promise and prove it to you every day, multiple times a day; she was sure of it. And even though you didn’t hear her, that weekend, when the two of you started your life as a family of three, you knew it too.

[sourholland]

A Royal Convienence || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part One

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → I’m so excited for this, I honestly thought it’d be out a little sooner but whatever.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → None

Word Count → 1.8k

Word of the royal engagement had spread quickly, not only by mouth, but through the newspapers as well.

Prince Thomas of Wales and Princess Y/N of France would be married in the spring. Only six weeks awaiting the royal wedding where the crown prince would marry the firstborn princess of France. Rumors of His Majesty, King Dominic’s ill health thickened the air, leaving the country to wonder if the reason for the sudden alliance was perhaps in favor of the succession of the eldest prince.

“Your Royal Highness,” the man bowed his head as you stepped from the ship onto the dock.

You lifted your gloved hand to his outstretched fingers, helping you onto the grass. The clouds hung grayly in the sky, droplets of rain threatening to spill. The man guided you to the carriage not far from where you’d disembarked. He was clearly a member of the royal guard, dressed stiffly and talking very little. You couldn’t tell if this was due to your status or the requirements he was to adhere to.

The inside of the carriage was decorated richly, plush bench seats accompanied by satin curtains of gold. You were tempted to reach over and touch them, retracting your hand when the carriage jerked and began to move through the crowded streets of London.

You were exhausted, hardly sleeping on the journey from France. You’d been unable to keep down any food, seasick and lethargic the whole way. You hadn’t been able to freshen up, assuming that your hair which had been pulled back was a mess by now. You also hadn’t been afforded the luxury of taking your ladies with you, some of which had been with you since you were a girl. This was making things like lacing your own corset considerably more difficult.

The whole way to Buckingham Palace had gone by rather fast, the scenery passing you by reduced to blurs in your memory. It was a much different atmosphere than that of France, or at least what you’d been allowed to see of it. You spent most of your early life being taught how to rule a country, being the heir to the throne until you reached the age of fourteen. Your mother, the Queen Consort Marie, had finally produced a son, an heir, a male to take the throne once the king died.

This day, the day when your brother Prince Louis was born, had been one of the most dreadful days of your life. Everything you’d been working towards, learning about, being trained for, was stripped away from you. After that, you’d been reduced to what it seemed every woman was around you, aristocracy or not, an object of marriage.

Some years later, you would be called into the throne room and told by your father that you would be wed to the Crown Prince of England. You’d only met Prince Thomas once before, at the English Duke’s wedding when you were only twelve years old. He had been only fourteen, unbothered and unfazed by your presence. From what you recalled, your encounter with him had been less than pleasant.

You’d made several attempts to speak with the Prince throughout the night, taking your mother’s words of encouragement. He brushed you off every time, once telling you that he did not care for the French, nor your way of approaching the ‘next King of England.’

“Ma’am.”

You were brought away from your thoughts at the man’s words, your head rising from its place at the wall of the carriage. You glanced out the window, the large palace greeting you. You remembered nothing of coming through the gates, or even seeing the Buckingham Palace for the first time.

You stepped out, flattening your skirts with your palms and doing the best with your hair. You couldn’t imagine how improper you’d probably looked, your stomach churning at the thought of walking through the doors of the palace.

The walk from the carriage to the set of doors that led you into the large entryway was short. The walls were covered in rich fabrics, candles lighting each walkway. The guards accompanying you remained silent, the sound of your shoes against the fine carpet in your ears. You remembered your governess, the way she’d always remind you that a princess never slouched. The straightening of your back and extra spry in your step helped you to gain back a bit of confidence.

Through what felt like dozens of twists and turns, the tallest guard was pushing open two large doors. You stepped in wearily, recognizing it as the throne room. You suddenly became very aware of your appearance, the way you must be an absolute mess.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of France,” he announced to the room.

You walked before the throne and gave a deep curtsy to both King Dominic and Queen Nicola. You met each of their eyes nervously, you knew it was wrong to look for any bit of illness in the king, unable to help yourself from noticing his paleness and sunken in eyes.

“Your Majesties,” you addressed.

“Why, I haven’t seen you since you were a girl,” she remarked. “Of course, then you were to be the Queen of France. And now—well, there’s Prince Louis, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” you answered with a twinge of bitterness. “My brother should take the throne some day.”

King Dominic’s eyes scanned over you promptly, looking for any imperfection, any flaw to point out. This wasn’t odd behavior of a king, yet it still seemed to make you stammer over your words.

“You’ve grown very beautifully, I’m glad of this,” she added. “We’ve had portraits sent over, however, I will say that you are a fine-looking girl.”

There was no sign of the Prince, nor his younger brothers. It was only the king and the queen that occupied the throne room. You felt almost relieved of this, not wishing to see any more people in your current state. You also dreaded your imminent fate, a vow of marriage to a man you hardly knew, let alone could stand.

The large doors opened once more, revealing the eldest Prince, behind him were the twins, and next was the youngest. Prince Thomas held a blank expression, his eyes not yet meeting your own as he walked with his brothers to bow at his parents feet.

“Thomas, I’m sure you remember Y/N,” his mother said, motioning towards you.

His gaze fell on you, his eyes dipping from the cream colored skirts that swayed at your feet, to the mess of hair falling into your face slightly. His hair was slicked back and styled, the embroidery on his tunic rich and in season. His eyes darkened, a look of disdain flashing for a moment.

“I do, mum, I quite clearly recall us being introduced at cousin George’s wedding a few years back,” he answered.

He forced a grin, looking to his mother for approval. She went on about wedding preparations, dining plans, and which wing of the castle your chamber would be. It didn’t take long for you to realize how much of a rambler Queen Nicola truly was. You could only blame it on her longing for a daughter, and the fact that this was the first wedding she’d be able to orchestrate for one of her sons.

“Tomorrow you’ll meet me to choose an engagement ring, then to tea where your Ladies in Waiting will be,” she spoke modestly. “It’s far too late to do anything this evening. Though, I’m sure a chaperone could be arranged if you and Tom wished to speak for a time privately.”

“That won’t be necessary, mum. It’s quite late, I’m sure the Princess would rather retire to her chamber for the night,” the Prince interrupted. Good, you thought. You had no desire to be anywhere near Thomas, not now, and definitely not for what was playing out to be the rest of your miserable life.

“Ma’am,” you started. “Do excuse me if I’m incorrect, however, I thought Prince Thomas should have been the one to choose an engagement ring?” You asked, a snort came from Tom, a dismissive look from the Queen following. He grimaced as his younger brother, Prince Sam, you assumed, had elbowed him in the ribs.

“Well—yes, you are correct. Traditionally, if you and Thomas had courted, and then he’d gone to your father for his blessing, he would have chosen an engagement ring once you agreed to have him. This is not a traditional engagement, though. You’ll look through some of our most precious jewels, I assure you, Y/N.”

You felt your face heat up at her words, drowning out the last of her speech and curtsying again as she and the king left the room. The three younger Princes followed suit, Tom stopped at the archway for a moment. A servant most likely waited behind those slightly ajar doors, ready to escort you to your chambers.

“Princess,” your title lingered on his lips.

“Prince Thomas, can I help you?”

“I wish you would not refer to me as Thomas, that god awful name is reserved for my mother,” he said shortly. “Tom will do fine.”

“Prince Tom, then. Is there a reason you’ve stayed back? We shouldn’t be alone in here,” you had only been in the palace a short time and the last thing you wanted was a scandal.

His expression was not endearing in the least, he looked burdened by you. His jaw was set, his eyes malice, the curl of his lip in disgust. You took in a breath, mimicking his body language and going to pass him out into the hall. You were caught off guard by the jerking of your forearm, his hand grasping at it harshly and pulling you much closer to his face than you had been before.

“If this is what I must do for my country then so be it, however, do not think for a second that I would ever willingly marry someone like you,” he cursed, leaning in so close that you could feel his cool breath on your skin.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you said, looking him dead in the eyes. The weight of his words stung like a blade, his expression like pouring salt into an open wound.

“Well then, something we can agree on.”

You yanked away from him, brushing off his grasp and looking up at him with narrowed-eyes. He gritted his teeth as you flattened the fabric of your skirts once more before you left the large room in a fleeting motion.

taglist- @justapurrcat @witchyartemis @keithseabrook27 @clara-licht @dummiesshort @username2002 @imaginationisgrowth @nova-sup3r

[gotnofucks]

What’s Your Escape

Pairing: dark!Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock could never resist a mystery, especially not one as deliciously wrapped as you.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, smut, harassment, jealousy, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Spoilers for Enola Holmes

MASTERLIST

+++++

It was your duty to make sure that the young miss could escape quietly. You put extra padding on her shoes and made sure the mud outside the window was spongy. She would need something strong and long to climb down from here, so you sew together a few old curtains to make a rope and put them in the chest in her room. If she follows the plan, she will leave, and none will be the wiser. You hoped she would make it back before noon, or you’d have to answer the masters of the house why their sister was missing.

You liked living here before the brothers returned. Things used to be fun at the Holmes ancestral manor before Mycroft and Sherlock returned after their mother’s disappearance. You would have thought they will leave after bringing back Enola under their roof, but they seemed to have reconnected with their roots and to your displeasure stayed.

Eudoria Holmes had hired you as a second housekeeper after Mrs. Lane started getting up in the years. Or well, that’s the story she told everyone else. Eudoria had rescued you from a life of abject poverty, brought you to her estate and given you a roof and work. She saw in you a fire that she claimed would light the way for many women to come. You had trained with Enola since childhood under her mother’s direction, but you were more mentally skilled. While Enola could jujitsu her way out of a situation, you could read a person, manipulate them into letting you go. Together, you both made the best team.

Everything changed when Eudoria disappeared. You knew one of you had to stay here to keep an eye on the Holmes brothers, so you helped Enola escape while you stayed. You didn’t think anyone would suspect you had a hand in her daring getaway, but then you hadn’t met Sherlock Holmes before. Since the morning Enola was missing, his eyes followed you like a bloodhound’s to meat. You could feel them, the weight of his gaze heavy on you. If you would look up and catch him, he would get an irritable look on his face, like he’s stuck trying to undo a knot for a while.

You were glad when he left the Holmes Manor for London to search for his sister soon enough. His looks made you antsy and you had to bite your tongue on various occasions to set him straight. For years you had lived unrestrained with Eudoria, and suddenly being thrust back into your duties as a housekeeper proved to be more difficult than ever. More so now that Enola was back as Sherlock’s ward.

Things could have gone back to normal for it seemed Sherlock was more liberal than Mycroft when it came to their sister. Yet, he was a man of society. Intelligent as he may think her to be, he was still of the mind that she must marry a suitable gentleman, after which she could frolic wherever she wished. It fell on you to help Enola escape the Manor, to go away for a few precious hours at night to spread her wings and breath freely. You’d been doing so for nearly a month and every night your exploits had gone without a hitch.

You’d just seen her down the curtain rope, waving to her from the window as she climbed atop her bicycle and rode away into the dark. You sighed, wishing you could perhaps go too. But you owed a great debt to both the Holmes woman, and you would continue to serve them as long as they would desire.

“Would you like me to help you climb down?” Said a voice behind you and you turned suddenly, clutching the windowsill to support yourself. Sherlock leaned against the doorframe, his curls slightly mussed.

“Mr. Holmes” You breathed, heart hammering unevenly in your chest. Your first thought was that your secret was out, and Enola would be made to marry a stupid man while you’ll be thrown on the streets. He walked languidly towards you, wearing a robe that stretched over his bulky frame. For a man so huge, he carried himself with a lot of grace. Stopping a few feet from you, his eyes followed the rope that dangled out the window and a smile tugged at his lips.

“I’d wondered why she looked so tired every day, and why you spent so much time doing her laundry. The mud must be difficult to get off, hmm?” He asked, his hand pulling out his pipe from his pocket that he deftly lit and popped in his mouth.

You didn’t answer him, watching him, deciphering him. He was a mystery to you because he was so open. Unlike others he didn’t wear a mask of polite diplomacy, his disdain for things was expressed in no uncertain terms and he rarely bothered hiding his true thoughts. While you could outsmart a liar, talk a stupid person into doing what you want without them realizing, you had a hard time reading Sherlock Holmes. He had little need to lie unless it was for a case and he was certainly not stupid.

He stared at you for a long time, smoke drifting from his pipe while you refused to cower under his gaze. His lips twitched in amusement, eyes raking over your form before finding yours and he took a step forward.

“You are good at hiding I must say. Almost perfect in fact, but these eyes, they give you away. Your tongue drips with honey while your eyes burn with fire and ice. If someone knows where to look, your game will be over before it begins.”

“And what are you looking for Mr. Holmes?” You asked.

He set his pipe down before coming close enough to brush his front against yours. You stiffened slightly, feeling his hand going around your waist.

“I’m looking for a reason.” He whispered, his hand catching hold of the rope behind you as he started pulling. You stayed between him and the window ledge, staring into his eyes, his knuckles grazing your back occasionally until he pulled in the entire rope. Letting it fall on the ground, he almost bumped into you when he leaned forward to shut the windowpanes behind you. His breath was on your face and you resisted the urge to dash away from him.

“You need to leave” You said at last. Sherlock shook his head, arms resting on either side of you now. He breathed deeply, taking you in. His blue eyes, one with the slightest tinge of brown gleamed at you. Only a faint light came from the candlestand in the corner now that the windows were closed, and you saw reflected in his eyes an emotion you were entirely unfamiliar with. Desire.

He leaned forward, his one errant curl tickling your forehead and you felt his breath on your mouth. Your hands shot out, pushing against his chest.

“Leave, now.” You said, sharp and commanding.

“Make me”

You gulped, the intimacy of a man not something you were used to. He was too large to even think of physically getting away. You must, like he said, make him go away.

“I can’t get you to leave, but if you stand at the end of the hall, I can convince you to come to me.”

His eyes lit with intrigue, a most sensual smile tugging at his lips. You were doing what he loved the most. Playing a game.

“And what if you cannot?” He asked. You met his eyes head on, not an ounce of fear in yours.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

You could almost call his grin boyish, an excitement taking over his features as he finally pushed away from you. He cocked his head at you, appraising you as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He nodded, turned around and walked out of the door and stood at the end of the hall. He spread his arms as if to say, your move.

Your feet carried you across the room, measured stride that gave away nothing.

“I think the deal was for you to make me come to you.” Sherlock remarked as he saw you walking forward.

“It is” You stated before quickly taking hold of the door and pulling it shut. You had a brief glimpse of the shock on his face, then heard his feet thundering as he ran towards you but by then you had locked the door and rested against it.

His fists hit the wood and for a moment you were convinced he would break it down. But then you heard his chuckle, like he was proud to have been played as such.

“I’ll come back for you” He said aloud, and his feet retreated while you sank down on the floor. Your heart was loud in your ears and hands slightly trembling. Maybe its time you brushed up on your jujitsu.

+++++

Sherlock let Enola leave every night, giving no impression he knew what she was up to during the day. She was far too happy (and sleepy) to give it much thought and the days went by as normal. Or well, maybe not for you.

If you thought he was looking at you before, it was nothing as compared to now. He was everywhere, watching you from the corners when you cooked and cleaned. You were glad for other people’s presence in the Manor, for you feared being alone with him. Each night, the moment Enola climbed down you would shut the door to her room, sleeping there. You couldn’t risk making the journey across to your own chambers. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

“Mr. Kennedy would be over for dinner tonight. Make the necessary arrangements” Mycroft told you at breakfast. You nodded, dreading the extra hours of cooking you’ll have to do. Thank god Mrs. Lane was still well enough to bear most of the burden. Sherlock’s eyes as usual were on you and you wondered how no one noticed.

“Do you still have mother’s favorite infusion?” He asked you and you nodded. Eudoria will not be happy with them taking liberties with her stuff, but you weren’t about to argue. “Get me some, please.”

“Of course, Mr. Holmes” You sped away, grateful to be away from his company. You always loved the storeroom where Eudoria kept her infusions. A sweet smell of herbs along with polish permeated the air and it warmed you from within. You tinkered with the numerous jars that littered the shelves, dust coating them for they haven’t been touched in months. You were rummaging in one of the upper shelves when you heard the door behind you shut and you turned to see Sherlock turning the key to lock it.

“Are you done running away from me?” He asked, putting the key in his jacket. The room was just a small storeroom, crammed with different knickknacks everywhere. Sherlock’s body seemed to take all the space in the room, and you felt claustrophobic. He only needed to take another step to close the distance between you and you stumbled into the shelf behind you, jars clinking against each other.

“What do you want?” You asked, feeling both irritated and anxious.

“You’re smart enough to figure that out by now.” He said and took that step forward, bringing you chest to chest. You wished you’d worn a corset which would have provided an extra layer of protection. All your training with Eudoria had not prepared you for her son. He smelled like the pipe he smoked and the rich musk of ink and parchment. You tried not to breath too deeply.

“Mr. Holmes, this is most inappropriate.” You chided and he breathed out a laugh. His face neared yours and his eyes held yours in a way that you couldn’t look away if you wanted to.

“You intrigue me like no other. The restraint you have…You’re a burning match and I keep creeping closer and though you threaten to burn me you’d much rather smother your flame. Why?”

His words heated you, a tingling starting in your belly as you shook from the force of him. His finger raised slowly, very slowly to your cheek and you turned your face right before he could touch.

“How will you get out this time? What’s your escape?”

He was so smug and amused you very nearly growled at him. Your eyes took in the room, trying to see how you can get out of here. He was blocking the only exit with the key in his jacket. As established previously, physically fighting him was not an option. You thought about it and finally turned to look at him.

“I propose a challenge” You said, and he grinned like it was just what he was waiting for. “You hide that key anywhere in this room while I shut my eyes. If I find it, you let me leave.”

He leaned even closer, close enough for his nose to graze your head.

“And what if you don’t?”

“Then you can have what you so clearly want.”

He pulled back and produced a handkerchief from his pocket that he offered to tie on your eyes. You took it and did it yourself. You’d rather he not touch you at all. You could hear the shuffling of his feat, slight movements to your left and then the clinking sound of metal hitting an object. He gave you the go ahead and you took off the blindfold.

You looked around carefully, examining every surface and box and jar. Your keen eyes judging what was moved from its position. One glass jar to the far right caught your eye and you almost went to pick it up before you stopped. You titled your head, looking at Sherlock who seemed to be observing you most intently. To his surprise, you stepped towards him and placed a hand on his chest, moving it until you reached the pocket in the inner lining of his jacket and found the key.

His eyes were wide, both aroused and impressed.

“How?” He asked and you smiled a little at his fascination.

“I almost went for the jar, that was the only one with fingerprints marking the dust layer. But then I noticed your jacket which had dust stain too. You dropped the key in there but put it back in your pocket, not wiping your dusty hands.” You explained.

His arms caged you before you could blink, holding your body to his and mouth at your ear.

“No, you said you’d let me leave!” You protested. His warmth was seeping inside you, smell overpowering your nostrils and you pushed.

“I have never wanted a woman more in my life. I’ll let you leave, but only because I know I will have you. Go now before I am tempted more than ever.” He released you and you unlocked the door, stumbling outside and running away without looking back.

+++++

Two months, that’s how long you held him off with the power of your brain alone. He would corner you and you would play a game of wits. Every time you had escaped, sometimes narrowly, but it all changed this night.

You didn’t know what was happening until Sherlock almost drove his fork into the tabletop. He was positively seething, eyes glaring at Mycroft’s colleague who was over for dinner. It was not until he turned those eyes on you did you understand what had him on edge. Mr. Shephardson had referred to you as ‘my dear’ and ‘sweet girl’ multiple times now, and with each new endearment Sherlock’s fist clenched harder until you worried he’ll dig his fingers in his own palm.

You shrugged away his glare and continued serving, smiling at the man old enough to be your father. It was not like you cloud go, just turn away and leave, it was your job to be kind and serve the guests. It was one of the longest dinners of your life, one that left you utterly uncomfortable and confused. The guests departed and you were left alone to clean the table. You had just started stacking the plates together when Sherlock marched towards you, a frown marring his handsome face.

“Ten minutes, my room. Don’t make me drag you” He warned and went away as quickly as he had come. You shivered slightly and moved your hands faster, collecting the dishes, and putting them in the kitchen for a wash. You had no idea what he wanted, but he was angry enough that you wouldn’t push his boundaries. You wiped the table next, legs jittery as you knew time was running out. Finally, you rearranged the chairs and put away your apron before climbing the stairs to make you way towards Sherlock’s room. You were halfway up when he came thundering down himself, almost colliding with you.

“I was just –” You started speaking but he cut you off by lifting you in his arms and making his way up. You bounced in his arms as he climbed the steps, his jaw clenched in anger.

“I told you I’ll drag you myself if you don’t make it on time.” He snarled and you were too shocked to make a noise until you were in his rooms and the door was shut and locked behind you. You had to admit you were afraid of him then, his chest heaving in anger as a vein pulsed in his temple. He stalked towards you, removing his jacket as he came and you nervously moved back.

“Mr. Holmes please –”

He cut you off again, voice sharp and so commanding your knees knocked together.

“Say my name. Now”

You gaped at him, unsure what was happening. Here you thought it would be another tedious game between you two, but the mischievous glint had disappeared from his eyes. They were dark like a thundering sky, boiling over with rolling clouds.

“Say my fucking name now!”

“Sherlock!” You yelped, your eyes wildly looking for a way out. He was not himself. This is not the man you wanted to be left alone with for even a minute. But he had different ideas and he crowded you against the wall, assuming his favorite position in front of you with his arms acting as a cage.

“Say it again.” He ordered right in your face, voice dark and slow.

“Sherlock” You whispered and saw some of his anger leave him. One of his hands reach out to tangle in your hair and pulled you forward, your lips a hairsbreadth away from his when you started struggling. “No, no Sherlock. Please don’t” you pleaded.

He was so close you could make out every detail of his face, you could taste his breath on your tongue.

“You had a jolly time smiling at that man tonight, yes?” He seethed and you shook your head. You didn’t know he’d get so angry and jealous.

“It is my job” You argued and his arm tightened around you, squeezing until you were sure you’d be bruised tomorrow.

“I am your job!” He said and pushed away from you. “Name your challenge. Tell me how you’ll escape from me today.”

From the look on his face, you didn’t think he’d let you leave anywhere. Your eyes shifted from one place to another, wondering what you could do to get away from here. Fear permeated the air, making you lightheaded. You finally spotted his small safe hidden in the corner of the room.

“If I can open that safe you let me leave.”

“And if you don’t?”

You gulped audibly before answering. It was a question frequently asked and just as frequently answered.

“Then you can have what you so clearly want”

He smiled a satisfactory smile, moving away to sit on his bed. You forced your legs to move, inspecting every inch of the safe. It was small in size, golden in colour and had a very distinctive keyhole. You surmised that the key must also be golden, small going by the size of the safe and if you looked at the keyhole carefully, it must be sleek too to fit inside.

You made a mental tally of where he could keep the key in the room. But before that, you thought about what Sherlock Holmes would keep in a safe. It must be very valuable going by how expensive the safe itself looked, and if it were valuable then he would not just leave the key laying around in his room. He had only just returned to the manor after a long absence, things had changed behind him. He was once again living with his brother who he hardly trusted. There was only one logical place he would keep the key then.

“Please stand up” You said to him and he did, coming to stand before you. You tried not to look in his eyes as you scanned his body, thinking where he might have put the key because you were sure it was on his person. He had removed his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants. You took in every part of him and finally plucked the pen from his pocket. On its cap was a golden clip that you broke away and took with triumph towards the safe.

You inserted the clip into the keyhole, and it entered smoothly and your grin widened. You threw a smug look at Sherlock over your shoulder and turned it, but it didn’t move. Frowning, you put more force into it and tried to turn it. It stayed stuck.

His laughter made you freeze, and you let the clip fall from your hands. You faced him ashen faced, eyes wide and fearful. He took his time coming to you, victory sparking in his eyes. You corrected your posture, hoping you have wiped away every ounce of fear from your face. You weren’t about to let him gloat over you.

“I’ve told you before, you can hide very well but your eyes are your undoing. You can’t hide your heart from me when it shines so bright from behind your eyes.”

His hand took yours and slowly slid it down his chest until it rested on his buckle.

“Right before your eyes, had you been daring enough to see.” He said and you saw on his belt buckle a golden key. You looked at him and saw heat in his eyes, heat and desire that scared you more than anything. You left behind your rational thinking and made a run for it, rattling his door before he came behind you and hauled you up by your waist, throwing your body on his bed.

“You can’t break the rules of the game. When you won, I let you leave, now that I won, I’ll take what I want.”

He climbed over you, straddling your lower half as his hands sank in your hair and finally pulled you into a kiss. His lips folded over yours, kneading yours gently before his tongue probed inside to taste you. You wiggled in his hold, his passion burning you as you tried to come to terms with the situation. He was not brutal in his ministrations and coaxed a response from you, your lips moving against his on their own. You let out a soft moan, which made him sag against you.

“I’ve waited so long to have you, to have you burn me in your fire. Tell me why, for I can’t figure it out. Tell me why you suppress the storm that I know howls inside you.”

His eyes were open, urging you to talk about a part of you that you buried under layers. His let his fingers massage your head, and you sobbed. Even pinned under him, held down with his weight, his words were heavier to bear. He wanted a reason. Your reason. Right now, in the position you were in, with your heart thumping away in your chest, you couldn’t keep it in.

“If I go out to live my life, your sister can’t live hers. I owe everything to her and Eudoria, and if I have to sacrifice all my dreams to make hers come true, I’ll do it over and over again.”

His lips were on yours before you were even done, hands working to rid you of your dress. You resisted, a protest on your tongue.

“Please, don’t. I can’t, not this way.” You beg and he pulls away but only to discard his own shirt.

“I will not wait any longer. I will make you mine, I’ll have you tonight. No questions asked.”

How he managed to remove the dress from your squirming body you didn’t know but you lay before him more exposed than any man or even woman had ever seen you. Parts of you hidden under layers of cloth for years had become bare before his gaze and he revered them with his hands and mouth. Your back arched once his mouth sucked on your nipple, causing a deep heat to pool between your thighs. You squeezed your legs closed but he pried them apart, his already huge body looking ginormous as he nestled between them.

“I am going to taste you and I will claim you. It will happen, no matter what.”

He made good on his promise, bringing you incomprehensible pleasure with his tongue on your most sensitive region, making slurping noises that could make a street woman blush. You don’t remember when you ceased struggling, when your hands pulled instead of pushed. You panted for him, ached for him.

When he entered you, it was a pain the likes of which you had never experienced before. The stretch was uncomfortable, your legs trembling as you cried. Sherlock shushed you, promising it will be better soon. With every thrust the pain lessened and when he started teasing the nub between your legs you finally moved past the pain to focus on the pleasure. You were sobbing in need, begging him for something you didn’t even know what. He knew. He saw in your eyes what your mouth couldn’t say and gave you what your body desired.

You shattered below him, falling apart in a million pieces and he gathered you back into his arms, putting you together one kiss at a time. He was nearing his limit, hips pumping into you and your eyes rolled.

“After tonight, no more escaping. You’ll be mine, completely.” He vowed and you felt the warmth of his seed fill you. You lay beneath him, sweaty and battered, tear stained face anguished at what just happened.

Sherlock pressed kisses along your throat and chest, marking you.

“You never have to smother your flames from now one. You can burn as bright as you want, you can soar as high as you want. I will make all your dreams come true. You won’t just be a housekeeper. You’ll be the mistress of this Manor. I’m going to keep you, forever.”

+++++

 taglist :

@shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @stanmysoul @sweeterthanthis

[kkodzvken]

where you let it go - hawks x g.n. reader

this is my fic for @doinmybesthere​‘s mental health collab (mlist here). thank you so much emme for hosting! 

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, unspecified mental health issues, involuntary commitment, panic attack, a bit of depersonalization

a/n: i wrote this from my own personal experiences, so it’s in no way indicative of what all treatment is like. i was also hospitalized by my parents when i was a minor so i don’t really know about involuntary commitment for adults, so i’m sorry if this was inaccurate. this was incredibly therapeutic — i wrote what i needed to hear back then. and please please please, know that your mental health is so important, and there is nothing braver than getting help. title cred: where you let it go by i the mighty

w/c: 1.7k

They’re all too loud.

The voices rise up around you. They crash against each other, echoing against the sterile white walls and ceilings. They feed off each other like carnivorous beasts, and they sink their claws into your ears, dig their teeth into your flesh and leave scratches against your marrow.

They’re too fucking loud.

You want to leave. You want to leave, but you can’t. And besides, wasn’t this supposed to help? Wasn’t this supposed to make you better? You should be reveling in all the noise, letting the voices seep into your ears and wash away the awful sounds in your brain. But they don’t cancel each other out – they just amplify each other, until it’s too loud for you to think, to breathe.

Your lungs feel like they’re encased in ice. Someone’s saying something – a nurse, asking about your medication history – but his voice is washed away in the sea of noise that surrounds you. You try to breathe, but your chest is filled with sticky tar. You try to respond, to spit out whatever they want to hear so they’ll leave you alone, but the tar rises up into your windpipe and settles into your voice box.

You want to leave. You need to leave, but you can’t.

Your mind isn’t in your body anymore. You aren’t in your body anymore. The sounds are still assaulting your eardrums, and you still feel everything so vividly. But it isn’t you. This isn’t you.

Is that you? This person, is that you? You stare down at your hands in an attempt to ground yourself, but it does just the opposite. You stare at your hands, but they are not your own. You know, you know how impossible that is. But the longer you stare, the more not-yours they become.

You can feel the tar rising up in your throat, turning into acidic bile that corrodes at your cells, but they’re not your cells. You’re looking down at your body, but it belongs to someone else. That person is not you – that person, staring blankly down at their hands as they’re surrounded by a hurricane of voices and nurses – that person is not you.

This was supposed to help. It was supposed to make you better, but after only a day, you’re already spiraling into a state that’s much worse. You hate everything about this place. You hate the smell of disinfectant that burns your nose, and the harsh white lights that burn your eyes. You hate the rituals and rules. You hate feeling eyes on you at all times. The constant supervision feels like a rope around your neck. It’s fucking miserable.

“Mx. Y/N, please. We can’t make any progress if you don’t work with us.”

“I don’t want to work with you,” you spit out. “I want to go home.”

The nurse sighs. He places his pen and clipboard down on his lap. “I understand how you feel, but you know –”

“How the fuck do you understand how I feel?” Your voice is dripping with venom. All of the fear and anger of the past days – no, the past weeks, months, years – reaches a fever pitch. The steady beeping of the machines by your bedside makes your head throb, but you ignore the pain as you push yourself off the bed. “I’m going home.”

You only make it a few steps before the two other nurses in the room rush to your side. Their hands are cold, and they dig into your arms when they grab you. Bile rises up in your throat. You try and twist out of their grasps, but they’re too strong, and your head hurts too badly.

That doesn’t stop you from trying. “Let me go!” you shout. You hate how shrill your voice sounds. The nurses act as if they can’t hear you. They march you back towards the bed, but you twist and thrash and try to make for the door. “Let me go, let me go, let me GO!”

“Baby?”

Your head shoots up at the sound of his voice. “K-Kei!”

He stands in the doorway, clutching a duffel bag in one hand and your favorite stuffed animal in the other, but he quickly drops everything and rushes towards you. The nurses must loosen their grips, because you’re finally able to twist away from them. You collide against his body, and with his strong arms wrapped around you, you finally feel like you can breathe again.

You don’t know when you started crying, but tears are freely falling down your face now. You bury yourself into his chest, holding him as close and as tight as you possibly can. “Keigo,” you sob out. “Keigo, I wanna go home, please take me home.”

He pulls you impossibly closer and presses little kisses against the top of your head. “Oh, angel,” he breathes. He shifts and picks you up with ease. You wrap your legs around his hips and he wraps his wings around your body like you have a thousand times before. It should bring you comfort, but it just reminds you of how wrong this feels. You should be in your shared home, not this hospital with its overwhelming smells and sounds.

“Home,” you cry out again.

He coos softly. “Oh, angel, you know that I can’t do that.”

You ball your hands into fists and grab at his shirt, tugging at it while your sobs intensify. “I don’t wanna be here, Kei, please.”

“I don’t want this either, honey. But you need this.”

“No! I need to go home! I need them to leave me alone!”

He turns to the nurses. “Can we have a moment alone, please? I promise that I’ll keep them safe, and call if anything happens.”

The nurses look at each other doubtfully, but eventually nods their heads and file out of the room. Keigo turns his full attention back to you. “Cry it out, angel,” he says as he sways your bodies gently. “Let it all out. I’m here, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

He holds you as sobs rack through your body, as you wail and scream and thump your fists against his back. When you finally retreat from the safety of his shirt, you’re sure that you look disgusting. Your eyes are red and puffy, and your face is covered in snot and tears. But he still looks at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen. He lowers himself onto the bed and holds you in his lap, your legs straddling him and your face resting against his neck.

“I know it sucks, angel,” he starts. “But don’t—”

“Please don’t lecture me,” you interrupt. You hate how small and weak your voice sounds. “I know that I have to stay here. I know they’ll help me get better. But I don’t want to, Kei. I want to go home with you. Can’t I just get better at home?”

His expression is painfully gentle as he cups your face in his big hands and smiles at you. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, baby.”

“I know, but I can do it myself–”

“No you can’t,” he says bluntly. “You can’t get better by yourself. And I can’t help you get better by myself. We need real help.”

You whine and turn your head, not wanting to look him in the eyes. “…I know. But I still don’t want to.”

“Both of those things can be true,” he says. “You can hate it, and still do it and know that you need it. It’ll suck, but hey, look at it this way. The more you cooperate, the faster you’ll get better, and the faster you’ll be able to come home to me.”

You bury your face back into his shoulder. You don’t want him to see the tears that are threatening to leak out of your eyes again. “I-I’ll miss you. I couldn’t sleep last night. It was…It was wrong, not having you next to me.”

“Oh, baby,” he coos, and your chest pangs at the sound of his voice breaking. “I couldn’t sleep either. But I’ll visit you every day, alright? I’ll stay as long as I can, until they kick me out. And then I’ll call you until they kick us off the phone.”

“It’s not the same.” You feel childish when you whine and complain like this, but you can’t help it. The concept of being hospitalized, of being locked up away from Keigo and everything else important in your life, is terrifying. “When…when do you think I can come home?”

“They said they’ll let you go out if you’re good, right?”

“I wasn’t really paying attention yesterday,” you admit sheepishly.

He chuckles and presses another kiss against your forehead. “It’s okay, angel, I was listening. I’ll double check, but I think that I’m allowed to bring you out for a few hours if you stick with your plan. Let’s look forward to that, okay? We can go home and watch a movie, or we can go on a date somewhere nice. Whatever you want.”

“Home,” you mumble. “Wanna snuggle with you on our bed.”

You can feel his lips curl into a smile against your hair, and it makes you smile a little too. “Well,” he says, repositioning himself onto his back and dragging you along with him. “It’s not the same, but we can watch a movie now! They didn’t let me bring your laptop in, but we can watch on my phone.”

You snuggle into his side and rest your head on his chest. The steady sound of his heartbeat is comforting, and it helps to cancel out all of the other horrible sounds enveloping you. You’re still terrified, but with his arms and wings wrapped around you, and the reassuring warmth of him against you, you feel a bit safer, and a bit less scared.

  .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Please don’t leave me,” you say. “Please…please don’t go. I know that I’m fucked up, and I’m a hassle, and that I make things difficult for you. I’m sorry. But please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, angel,” he says. He leans his forehead against yours and gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. “I promise. I’ll stay with you forever. You’re not fucked up. Your struggles don’t make me think any less of you. They don’t make you any less lovable. I promise, baby, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re my everything, and I’ll never leave you. I promise.”