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borathae · 4 months

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Constellations

"Even after all these centuries of living, they can experience something new with each other."

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook

Genre: Comfort Smut, Slice of Life Romance, Falling in Love!AU

Warnings: they're normally vampires but 'cause of magic they currently aren't, just read the mainstory to understand tbh lmao, a romantic date by a bonfire, romantic conversations & daydreams, soft Dom!Taehyung, sub!Jungkook, Tae is the biggest service Dom ever, Koo is so sensitive hihi, body worship, so many words of adoration, gentle touches, lots of sighs and whispers <3, frotting, lots of kissing, a gentle rim massage, cumming together, cuddles & snuggles, this is so romantic :(

Wordcount: 9.7k

a/n: i genuinely love this universe so much holy fuck :( also, big shoutout to @ahyeonah for helping with the French translations hehe thank you queen 💜 and another sidenote, italic in this chapter indicates that they're talking in Korean

《 Bonus Smut to this 》

Taehyung finally comes back after having excused himself to go outside. Jungkook looks at him over the edge of his book, closing said book a moment later. He uses his thumb as a bookmark. He had been able to watch the older man scurry around the kitchen and hurry outside multiple times.

“You’re back”, Jungkook says, “where were you? ___’s grandparents already went to bed. Also, you missed one round of Uno.”

“That is alright. It is a terrible game, way too complicated. I always lose. Horrible”, Taehyung says dismissively and gives the dark haired man an excited grin, “I prepared something outside. Do you perhaps want to see?”

“Is that why you kept going to the kitchen?”

“Perhaps.”

“Sure, I want to see”, Jungkook says and stands up from the couch to follow Taehyung outside. He used a pen as a bookmark, abandoning the book on the coffee table.

“May I? It is quite chilly outside and I wouldn’t want you to freeze”, Taehyung offers a jacket to Jungkook.

“Oh? Yeah okay, thanks”, Jungkook says giddily, smiling to himself when Taehyung helps him put the jacket on.

The latter ends it with a caress to his upper arms and a kiss to his shoulder.

“You look so handsome.”

“Thank you, Tae.”

“Come now, I shall show you what I have prepared.”

“I really wanna see”, Jungkook says and together they leave the house.

Taehyung takes Jungkook’s hand once outside, leading the way. The latter was looking around the garden at first, but flusters when Taehyung intertwines his fingers with him. He glances at him, flustering even more when Taehyung gives him a sweetest smile.

Taehyung leads him to the shed and then Jungkook can already see what he prepared. A bonfire. With blankets and pillows to get comfortable on.

“Wow, you built a fire?” he gasps.

“Indeed I did.”

“It’s so cozy here. Wow, look at all the pillows. Wow Tae, you put so much effort into this.”

“I really did”, he bounces excitedly, “do you like it?”

“Of course I do.”

“I, I thought that today was such a wonderful day and you made me feel so good and I wanted to end it with something romantic.”

“It’s so romantic and so cozy.”

Taehyung glows upon being complimented, giggling excitedly. He gestures Jungkook to sit and so he does. Taehyung kneels down in front of him, shoving a charcuterie board into his vision.

“So that’s what you were doing.”

“Indeed. It is the only thing I can truly make. I hope you like cheese.”

“I do. It looks really pretty.”

“Thank you. Wine?”

“Sure.”

“I asked Harald for their oldest wine. I hope you enjoy red wine. Cheese must be enjoyed with a good red wine.”

“I like red wine. Thank you, that’s enough for the beginning.”

Taehyung prepares his own glass as well.

“Do you like to drink?”

“Yes, in moderation obviously.”

“Of course. I do not enjoy the taste of most alcohols, however, I quite enjoy the taste of wine.”

“It fits you.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Wine’s elegant.”

“You believe me to be elegant?” Taehyung gasps.

“Yeah.”

“Oh”, he blushes, “thank you.”

“You’re cute”, Jungkook says and lifts his glass, “cheers.”

Taehyung clings glasses with him.

“To this relationship.”

Jungkook smiles, “yeah, to this relationship.”

They each take a sip, enjoying the full taste of it on their tongue.

“It is very good. The grape truly fills the taste and it leaves the tongue with an almost floral sweetness. Do you enjoy it as well?”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Jungkook scoffs, “you talk so fancy sometimes. It’s not bad, but I can’t talk like this about wine.”

“Oh worry not, the way you talk is perfect. I am aware that I talk, well, that I talk rather strangely sometimes. I learned English during a time where such speech was common and I never really rid myself of it.”

“I like it. At first I thought that you were obnoxious and it annoyed me, but I like it these days. You would sound really weird if you talked differently all of a sudden.”

“I can talk in more modern ways. Oh heavens, I attempted to talk without the accent but failed miserably. I can talk modernly? Is that how the young people would say it?”

Jungkook laughs, “just stick to your ways, you old sock.”

Taehyung chuckles, lowering his eyes shyly.

“What other languages can you speak?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh heavens, far too many. English of course, French as well as German. I can also read Latin and Greek and know the lost language of Nilrem.”

“How do you know this language? I never heard of it before and I know that nobody really does in the common world.”

“I have many friends who are witches, but there were also times when Namjoon was…well, he was kind in his ways. Jimin and I lived side by side with him without having to fear for our safety and during such times, we liked to exchange knowledge. He taught us the language. He called it the original language of magic, but never told us that he was present when it was still used.”

“I see. Damn, I didn’t think that he would do such a thing.”

“I must admit that thinking back, such times feel very unbelievable in comparison to all the agony he allowed to happen to us.”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Thank you, but may we talk about something else please? I do not want to spoil this night.”

“Of course. So you can speak six languages?”

“Oh heavens, no. I can also speak Spanish and Italian and spent quite some time in Portugal as well, although my Portuguese is a little rusty these days”, he confesses in a chuckle, “my mother language however is Korean, I still think in it sometimes.”

“Oh Korean? Of course it’s your mother tongue. It’s mine as well”, Jungkook says in their native language.

“You speak Korean as well?” Taehyung answers him in it.

“Of course, I do. I grew up speaking it and still talk in it with Hoseok and Seokjin-hyung when we’re alone.”

“Oh Jungkook-ah, I feel so happy to know that you haven’t forgotten our language.”

“Me too. It’s been so long for you though, I’m surprised that you didn’t forget.”

“I almost did. Jimin reminded me of it when I met him. When we are alone, we only speak in it.”

“I get that. It’s nice to speak in a familiar language. Although I gotta admit that English feels like my second native language these days. I think in it and dream in it.”

“Yes, I agree. For me it is English and French.”

“French? Say something then.”

“Say something?” Taehyung lowers his eyes playfully, leaning closer until his lips brush Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook shivers, listening to the unfamiliar words and finding it very hard to concentrate. Taehyung’s voice is deeper when he speaks French, carrying a seductive romance to it.

Taehyung finishes his sweet whispers with a kiss to Jungkook’s jawline, straightening up.

“What did you say? All I understood was mon chèri.”

“Your company is brighter than any fire and your kiss tastes sweeter than any wine, my darling.”

Jungkook nudges Taehyung’s chest.

“Shut up, oh my god.”

“No, or how I would say it in French, no.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung laughs with him.

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you”, Taehyung says and takes a slice of cheese to eat it deliciously, “mhm, you must try the cheese. It melts on your tongue.”

Jungkook follows his lead, eating it with a frown.

“Mhm, it’s good.”

“Isn’t it? Oh Kook, I appreciate a good charcuterie board a lot. There is such romance in it. To prepare food for your loved ones, to present it artfully. There is no greater show of appreciation in my eyes.”

Jungkook smiles shyly, “you think so?”

“I do, yes. You told me that this is your first experience with queer relationships.”

“Yeah, you and Yoongi. Although, you’re definitely romancing me harder. No hate to Yoongi, he is very sweet when we’re alone and I feel really loved by him, but you are definitely romancing me harder.”

“Well, I want to make the first experience special for you. Which is why I prepared all of this. I want to make it special, I really do.”

“Tae, god”, Jungkook says, sagging his shoulders in fond defeat.

Taehyung takes Jungkook’s pointer finger shyly, “do you…uhm, is it how you wished your first queer relationship to go?”

“I honestly didn’t really think about it a lot, but it’s definitely really nice. You’re so sweet and romantic, I like it.”

Taehyung relaxes, gazing at him.

“Shall we make rules?”

“Rules? Tae, I told you no control. You’re free with me.”

“I know, I know. It is not about control, I just”, he sighs in defeat, “I regret the way I treated you in the beginning. How I ran off to have blood orgies with Fringella or how I fucked around with strangers. I thought nothing of it as I have always lived my relationships in such ways, but it must have been painful for you.”

“It definitely was, but we already talked about it.”

“Well despite all that, this is your opportunity to voice your rules. ___ and I have rules as well. Do you wish me to stay in our polycule? Do you have any problem with me seeking out one night stands? Do you want me to be purely loyal to you and ___?”

“Oh that. I guess, the way it is right now is good for me. I don’t mind when you have one night stands. They’re definitely not something for me, but I know that you like them.”

“I can stop them if you wish me to.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “don’t change like this, I really don’t mind. One thing though, don’t abandon me during parties without saying anything and if you do want to use it as a sexual hunting ground, warn me beforehand. Also, if you ever make me watch you have sex, don’t let me witness you getting roughed up. It would make me so angry.”

“Angry?”

“I’d just wanna fucking protect you then.”

Taehyung flusters, touching his chest where his heart fluttered. He lets a shy giggle escape, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“But”, Taehyung pouts, “you cannot tempt me with a good time. What if I want you to get angry in sheer protectiveness?”

Jungkook laughs, “you don’t wanna see me angry, trust.”

“But I did, it’s the very reason why we are here now.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “you’re silly.”

“Silly for you, yes.”

“Tae, is the wine working?”

“Forgive me. No, I am just, I am merely…oh heavens, all this talk about you watching me have sex and using a party as our sexual hunting ground affected me.”

“It affected you?”

Taehyung looks at Jungkook’s lips. Jungkook looks at Taehyung’s lips.

“It did?”

They inch closer, craving the others’ kiss.

“It did.”

Taehyung closes his eyes, Jungkook cups his cheek. With a gentle push, Taehyung falls to his back, allowing Jungkook to climb his lap. Taehyung writhes under his weight, finding it hard to breathe normally. Jungkook sits on his thighs right under his crotch. Taehyung begins to crave his weight on it, gazing at Jungkook with blown out pupils.

“You’re so silly, Tae”, Jungkook whispers, straightening up and therefore denying him of his kiss.

“Don’t tease me, please.”

Jungkook chuckles, caressing his chest.

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

Jungkook smiles, but says nothing else. Instead, he looks to the side and picks up a piece of cheese to snack on. He bites it off in the middle, guiding the other half to Taehyung’s lips.

The latter opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, trying his hardest not to whimper when Jungkook places the cheese on it.

Their connected gazes never break as they chew the cheese, only once Jungkook studies the charcuterie board again does it finally break.

“Everything looks so good. I don’t know what to try next”, Jungkook says, keeping one hand on Taehyung’s chest and using the other to point at the different cheeses.

“You should try Brie with grapes.”

“Then I’ll do that”, Jungkook shoves both into his mouth and chews, “mhm!”

He widens his eyes, looking at Taehyung.

“Do you enjoy it?” Taehyung asks breathily. One more second pinned down on this blanket and he might die from heart palpitations. He is so ardently in love with Jungkook that it is difficult to stay calm when he is caging him in.

“It was savoury at first and then the grape burst and it got juicy and sweet. It tasted really good.”

“Didn’t it? I know how to enjoy cheese.”

Jungkook picks up Brie and a grape to guide it to Taehyung’s mouth.

“Open up.”

Taehyung follows, holding his breath. He never knew that his heart could flutter so incredibly much.

“Good job”, Jungkook praises softly and feeds Taehyung.

He closes his lips around Jungkook’s fingers, sucking on them for a few seconds before he releases them and chews the cheese. Jungkook seems flustered and mesmerised by the gesture, staring at Taehyung’s lips.

He runs his hands over his chest mindlessly. Each touch leaves goosebumps behind.

“I can’t believe I hated you once”, Jungkook says quietly.

“Did you truly hate me?”

Jungkook feeds both of them a piece of cheese, then continues to talk while Taehyung is still chewing. He also sips on his wine occasionally, feeling the effect more and more. It is warm and makes him feel cozy.

“I hated all of you. Alpha, I mean. We always knew that you also lived in town and that humans never returned from your estate. At least that’s what we thought happened. I don’t think that Yoongi ever allowed humans to die willy-nilly on his grounds.”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“We still thought that all of you were bad vampires and when we heard that you infiltrated the university, we instantly joined as well so we could keep an eye on you.”

“Did you also convince the head mistress in quite magical ways?” Taehyung asks with a mischievous gleam.

“Do you really think someone like me could have managed to get in honestly?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook blinks in confusion. He didn’t expect this answer.

“You are intelligent and a hard worker. You are also a diligent person, who learns very quickly.”

“Oh. Wow, thanks”, Jungkook murmurs, lowering his eyes shyly.

“I mean it.”

“I know, thank you seriously”, Jungkook smiles.

Taehyung gazes, “but I assume that you also used compulsion to make it seem as if you had been students all along.”

“We did, yeah. Seokjin did all of it and he hated it, but we had to do it in order to keep watch. You know”, Jungkook chuckles, “if you asked me, it was so obvious that we weren’t students. The courses we attended made no sense major wise.”

Taehyung laughs, “mine did neither. I simply went with whatever sounded most interesting.”

“Same. That is if I was even present. I had to realise very soon that there were too many people around me.”

“I see. The scents.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

“Don’t. I feel better these days”, he assures him and smiles, “cheese?”

“Yes, please.”

“Any wishes?”

“Perhaps a slice of cheddar with onion chutney?”

“Sounds yummy. There we go, open up.”

Taehyung lets it happen with a dizzy head. What is happening to him? Can a heart truly feel so much for just one person? How do humans survive under such conditions? How do they not scream and screech from the intensity of such emotions?

Jungkook, oblivious to Taehyung’s overwhelmingly fond gaze, chews on his piece of cheese with his big eyes racing over the dark night. And Taehyung wonders how many times he can call him beautiful before the younger man grows annoyed by it, but then he remembers Yoongi’s words. How there is never too much love, but only the wrong receiver.

“You are beautiful.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. His eyes are widened in surprise.

“You are beautiful”, Taehyung repeats it and it feels so good to do.

Jungkook smiles, lowering his head shyly.

“You’re beautiful too, Tae.”

“You are so immensely beautiful.”

“You’re just as beautiful, Tae”, Jungkook says and leans down to kiss his cheek, “you softie.”

He straightens up, smiling at him with soft eyes as his fingers trace his chest mindlessly.

“You are so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful too.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose and giggles, “I like it when you’re like this.”

Taehyung might truly scream. His heart feels at its limits. It is racing so unbearably much that the word “racing” feels rather unworthy to use. What is faster than racing? Because whatever it is, his heart is currently doing it. Yoongi was right. There is never too much love, just the wrong receiver and Jungkook is the right one.

“Why did you guys infiltrate the university either way? Were you planning on turning everyone?” Jungkook asks him then, still oblivious to Taehyung’s ever-growing feelings.

“Boredom.” Taehyung has to clear his throat before he can continue. The feelings were just too much. “It is truly as simple as that. We were fed up with our life and we wanted a change. Except for Yoongi, who only joined because he needed to make sure that we wouldn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Poor Yoongi. I bet he hated every second of it.”

“Why do you think that he was such a grumps at all times?”

Jungkook laughs, “you’re mean.”

“I am merely saying.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. God”, Jungkook sighs and smiles fondly, “to think that the only person who actually got in legally was ___”, he hesitates for a moment, squinting his eyes in suspicion, “unless you guys had something to do with it.”

“Oh goodness, no. We had no knowledge of her existence. She managed to get in all on her own.”

“Wow, she’s so cool.”

“She truly is. You know, she allowed me to read the paper which granted her the scholarship and I must say that it is truly remarkable. She always undermines her intelligence and talents, despite being incredibly gifted.”

“I know, it’s so sad that she does that. She told me about her parents and what they did to her. I think they made her have such little confidence in herself.”

“I know. I truly cannot stand these people for the way they treated her.”

“Me neither. We have to hype her up a lot to show her how awesome she is.”

“Hype her up? What is that?”

“You don’t know what hyping up means?”

Taehyung shakes his head, “is it similar to complimenting someone?”

“I guess? I don’t know, I guess you can compare it to cheering someone on and giving them confidence through nice words.”

“I see, well that is a very positive word then. We shall hype her up even more from now on.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you old sock”, he teases, nudging Taehyung’s chin.

“Hey! It is not my fault that the youths these days think up so many new words. I can simply not keep up.”

“Okay, okay fine”, Jungkook laughs, “you’re so old. I get it.”

Taehyung pouts, “you are mocking me.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Taehyung’s pout grows. Jungkook wipes it away with his thumb, gazing at the older man fondly.

“It’s cute. I like how out of date you are.”

“This isn’t as much of a compliment as you think it is”, Taehyung complains, but laughs as he does it.

Jungkook scrunches his nose, laughing with him.

“Yeah, I kinda realised how mean that sounded. Sorry.”

“I forgive you”, Taehyung jokes. He feels happy right now. Honestly happy.

Jungkook picks up a piece of cheese and snacks on it, following it up with some wine. Taehyung props himself up on his elbows and drinks from his own wine glass.

“Cheese?” Jungkook offers.

Taehyung opens his mouth and allows him to feed him, gazing at him the entire time.

“Grape too?”

He nods his head. The fruit tastes sweet, but nothing beats the sweetness of happiness Jungkook allows Taehyung to taste with every smile.

“Did you date when you were at university?” Jungkook asks.

“Not seriously, I mostly hunted for one night stands and short love affairs.”

“I see. That fits how you were back then.”

“It does. Oh, I was so unlikeable.”

“You really were. I couldn’t stand you at all”, Jungkook snickers, making Taehyung giggle.

“I am grateful that I changed.”

“Me too.”

Taehyung gazes at him, touching his thighs gently.

“I assume that you didn’t date either?”

“Oh hell no”, Jungkook scoffs, “I barely even went to class because all the smells were overwhelming to me.”

“I figured”, Taehyung places his hand on Jungkook’s waist, “I watched you sometimes.”

“You did?” Jungkook gasps.

Taehyung nods his head.

“On the rare occasions when you were present during rugby training, I sat by the oak trees.”

“The really old ones west of the field?”

“Indeed.”

“No way, I never noticed you there.”

“I hid quite well.”

“Wow, you creep”, Jungkook is laughing, “and you watched me?”

“Well, I watched the other men as well, but whenever you were present, my eyes only lingered on you. I truly wanted to have you.”

“Tae, oh my god”, Jungkook flusters, “why did you never approach me?”

“I truly wanted to. So one day, I followed you. I had my mind set on approaching you, but then I watched you get into Hoseok’s Beetle and everything fell into place. That the reason you were rarely present was because you were Jeon Jungkook, the young Ripper who is friends with the other two Younglings. Oh, my heart was shattered on this day because I believed you to be human until this point.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry”, Jungkook snickers, “you can be glad that you found out before talking to me though because I knew exactly who you were and with how out of control I was back then, I would have jumped at you.”

Taehyung laughs.

“Then I can be truly glad that I never approached you.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook agrees playfully.

They share a moment where their eyes get lost in the other’s and only the crackling of the fire can be heard. Taehyung, who has been feeling overwhelmingly in love with Jungkook, flusters first, averting his eyes to the sky.

“You can see so many stars here.”

“Mhm?”

“The stars are endless here.”

Jungkook gets off Taehyung’s lap, lying down next to him. He lets his eyes travel over the vast sky and the countless stars flickering far away.

“You’re right. They’re endless. Do you know your zodiac?”

“Pig.”

“That’s cool. Do you know your Western one too?”

“Oh? Forgive me. I am a Capricorn. Why?”

“Well you see, I’m actually a really big nerd for astronomy. This over here is my zodiac. Virgo.”

He shows him the sign in the stars, tracing its shape with his finger.

“Truly?”

“Yeah and over there is yours”, Jungkook says, tracing Capricorn into the sky. “It’s the smallest constellation of the zodiac, but I think it’s really pretty. Its brightest star is called Deneb Algebi with a magnitude of two point nine.”

“Magnitude?”

“It’s basically how bright a star shines.”

“I see. And the brightest star in my zodiac shines with two point nine magnitude?”

“Exactly. Capricorn is also the zodiac with the softest shining stars. Deneb Algebi is Arabic and means tail of the ram. It’s this one here.”

“I see”, Taehyung speaks softly.

“It’s a very pretty star. I know a lot about stars, I really do.”

“I never knew that this is my zodiac”, Taehyung whispers, gazing at the stars with sudden awe. For the longest time, the stars meant hell to Taehyung. To die and yet continue to burn. To never find peace and rest. He felt like this for a very long time. He died and yet continued to live in hell with peace so very far away.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool isn’t it? Over there is ___’s zodiac and I don’t know Yoongi’s so I can’t tell”, Jungkook explains, painting shapes in the sky Taehyung had never noticed before, but which are so overwhelmingly obvious to him now that Jungkook shows them to him. The stars have meaning, they create art. They glow and burn and with it, they create pictures for all living beings to gaze upon. The stars aren’t hell. They are art.

“They are beautiful”, Taehyung whispers shakily, holding back his tears.

“Right? I think so too. I always loved the stars. They brought me great comfort when I was still alone.”

The parallels steal Taehyung’s air. To think that there was a time where he and Jungkook looked at the stars at the same time and while Jungkook found comfort in them, Taehyung found sadness in them. The same view and yet it was received with such different hearts.

He looks at Jungkook. His dark eyes reflect the galaxies, his cheeks are glowing. He looks so happy, so utterly content. His life was filled with such tragedy and sadness and he still carries honest happiness. Taehyung admires this about him as much as he envies it. More than anything however, he is happy for him. And so utterly in love.

Such different hearts and still, they somehow managed to find each other.

Taehyung swears to finally show Jungkook his atelier and then take him to his secret library. Jungkook has never been in these rooms before. Time spent together was simply too short, life only recently calmed down. There was no chance for Taehyung to show Jungkook his rooms, but if he knew how much the younger man loved the stars, he would have shown him sooner.

“I painted the stars once”, he tells him.

“You did?”

“I did. I must show you once we are home. I still have the painting in my atelier.”

“Yes, I’d really like that”, Jungkook says, oblivious to what waits for him, “I think your art is really good. I bet your stars are so pretty.”

“If everything was different back then, do you believe that we could have fallen for each other?” Taehyung asks him quietly.

Jungkook looks at him. He didn’t expect this topic change. Taehyung’s eyes are glassy and filled with love.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook whispers.

“If we were normal and human back then, do you believe that we could have fallen for each other?”

“I don’t know. I think you would have been a total art nerd and I’d have been a stupid jock. Maybe we never even would have met.”

“No, I believe that we would have. I truly cannot see you as a mindless jock. You speak of constellations and the beauty of stars. You paint and draw and you enjoy music. Your heart is too gentle and filled with too much art for you to have been a mindless jock.”

“So I would have been an art nerd too?” Jungkook jokes to which Taehyung chuckles.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps you would have studied astronomy.”

“Thank you, you’re really sweet. You really are”, Jungkook whispers, looking at the sky with flushed cheeks, “would we have met as humans? I seriously can’t tell, but I hope that we would have.”

“Yes, me too.”

“I still think that I’d have been a total sports nerd. I really like sports.”

Taehyung laughs, “well then, you would have been a sports nerd and I would have been an arts nerd.”

Jungkook chuckles, ��that sounds like us.”

“Perhaps one night it would have happened that it would have just been you and I left at school and as we ran into each other, I would have been scared that you would hit me. Because all sports majors would have been straight, homophobic jocks and I would have been scared that you would use this opportunity to beat me up.”

“Tae, what are you doing?”

“Hear me out.”

“Okay?”

“And you would have been cold at first, because you would have caught me staring at you during training once, but then I would have accidentally dropped my books and began picking them up so clumsily that you would have felt pity for me and so you helped me and, and our hands brushed and after we both stood up, you wouldn’t have been able to control yourself anymore and so you would have grabbed me and kissed me and then took me in an empty classroom until I would have been shaped just for you.”

Jungkook shifts, gulping heavily. His heart is racing like crazy. Taehyung’s little fantasy is affecting him.

“It would have felt so forbidden because up until this point, you didn’t want to admit that you were bisexual and so you would have taken out your frustration on me until I clutched your shoulders and wailed into your neck because you would have brought me to my limits and yet my body still would have craved for more of you.”

“Stop talking, oh my god.”

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I do. A little too much.”

“Too much?” Taehyung glances at Jungkook’s crotch.

The latter notices, covering himself.

“Tae please, I don’t wanna take advantage of you, don’t make it so hard to resist.”

“It is not taking advantage when I wish the same thing.”

Jungkook swallows heavily. Taehyung rolls to his side and begins touching his hip. Jungkook chases the touch, breathing speeding up.

“Do you wish to know what would have happened after this night?” Taehyung asks with big puppy eyes.

“Maybe.”

“You would have driven me home and taken care of me and afterwards we would have sat on the sofa and talked with some cheese and wine. I would have realised that you are the sweetest man I had ever met and you would have grown fond for me. So fond in fact that you wouldn’t have been able to keep your hands to yourself from this day forward. But you would have done it secretly because you wouldn’t have been ready to come out yet. So we would have fucked in private, on the backseat of your car, after classes, the empty locker rooms, the abandoned atelier rooms.”

“Holy fuck, Tae. It’s so hot to think that we’d have been a secret.”

“It is. I am very affected by this.”

“Me too.”

“Did you ever fuck a man when you were human?”

“No, I always wondered what that would feel like.”

“I never fucked a man as a human either.”

Tension fills the silence. The day they shared was so wonderful and bonding, the night by the fire is warm and so excitingly private. Their hearts couldn’t be more intertwined with each other as they are today, the tension might finally be too much to bear.

“We’re human right now”, Jungkook whispers.

“I know”, Taehyung whimpers, grasping his hip.

“Do you…”

Taehyung nods his head vigorously. Jungkook props himself up on his elbows so he could rest himself over Taehyung. Taehyung lies back down as he does it, grasping his buttocks unapologetically. Jungkook lets him, eyes racing between Taehyung’s.

“We could share this first tonight”, he whispers.

“Kook”, Tae moans, chasing his kiss, “are you certain? Do you really want me?”

“I do. So much. Do you want me too?”

“Yes, yes please I do”, Taehyung begs and hooks his arms behind Jungkook’s head to pull him into a kiss.

Jungkook moans shakily, finding it difficult to match Taehyung’s rhythm. Not because the older man is sloppy, no, because Jungkook is so utterly overwhelmed by the feeling of getting to kiss him.

He wasn’t aware of how deeply affected he already felt, but it is finally getting so clear to him that he finds it difficult to breathe. Not that humans can really breathe when their faces are melted together for a kiss. Both men soon have to find out as their lungs ache for air. They break the kiss at the same time, panting for air while their lips still try to taste the other. They keep their eyes closed.

Jungkook is the one to go back in first, cupping Taehyung’s cheek while the other runs his fingers over his scalp. The kiss is already more heated than before. The tension is too big for it not to. Taehyung opens his mouth, asking for Jungkook’s tongue.

The latter breaks the kiss to breathe, speaking against his lips in an affected rasp.

“Did you ever kiss a man as a human before?”

“Not like this, please kiss me again please”, Taehyung begs, twisting his hair gently.

“I wasn’t kissed either”, Jungkook sighs, giving into the electric pull. Their tongues finally tangle, the kiss becomes even more intense. They taste the wine on each other’s tongue as much as they taste the growing hunger for more.

Hands soon begin roaming the valleys and hills of the other’s body, breaks for air are short but countless, moans soon begin to fill the silence. Their jackets come off as well, laid abandoned by the fire as they have each other to keep warm now. The touches begin to truly overwhelm them now that such little clothing was between them and their skins. They start panting and mewling into the kiss, matching each other’s neediness as much as they try to out-mewl it. The day has been long already and the two men are finally at their breaking point. All they exist for right now is each other. In both an emotional sense as much as in a sinfully carnal sense.

The next time the kiss breaks, they know that they won’t be able to kiss anymore. At least not before having taken the next step.

“I want more”, Taehyung gets out breathlessly, feeling up Jungkook’s waist.

“Me too”, Jungkook confesses, rubbing Taehyung’s chest.

“We don’t have lube a-and I didn’t warm up or clean out”, Taehyung stutters.

“I know, me neither”, Jungkook answers him out of breath.

“We are human. It won’t work how it does in the real world.”

“I know.”

The realisation that they won’t be able to connect as deeply as they could, aches for both of them, but the desire to be with each other is too big to let it soil the mood.

Jungkook sits up and takes off his shirt, throwing it to the side. Taehyung looks at him with a dizzy head. Even as a human, Jungkook is so perfectly muscular. Jungkook climbs onto Taehyung’s lap. Taehyung sits up to touch his chest. He outlines it with his fingertips, following his touch with his eyes. His skin is golden because he is human, the fire makes it glow amber.

“Your skin has the colours of sundowns right now”, Taehyung whispers, meeting Jungkook’s mesmerised eyes.

Taehyung traces his abs and the paths of his pecs, faltering when he reaches his nipples. Jungkook gives him silent consent with an arch of his back. He touches them. Jungkook moans, parting his lips and writhing on his lap.

“Your torso is a landscape I want to wander in for hours.”

Jungkook smiles softly, sighing in blissful pleasure. Taehyung’s gentle touch and his poetic words truly work on someone as hopelessly romantic as Jungkook.

Taehyung looks at his lover’s chest again because he felt his nipples harden under his touch. He exhales shakily. They are so dainty and perfect, standing against his amber skin in darker colour. Goosebumps cover the skin of his chest.

“Are you cold?”

“It feels so good.”

Taehyung’s heart flutters. Overtaken by adoration, he slides his hands to Jungkook’s side and pulls him closer this way, lowering his lips to his right nipple so he could lick and kiss it. Jungkook gasps for air, squeezing his legs together as best as Taehyung’s lap allows him to. Taehyung’s mouth is so warm around his nipple, in comparison to the chilly night air it truly steals his breath.

The intensity of the sensation grows when Taehyung releases his right nipple to worship his left instead and his once licked nipple is left in the cold air. Jungkook misses the warmth of his mouth, as much as he enjoys it on his other side. He closes his eyes, shivering immensely.

Taehyung feels the shivers as well, lifting his head to check up on him. Jungkook opens his eyes slowly. Even with the orange shine of the fire, Taehyung can see the pink flush of his cheeks.

“It is too rare that we get our nipples worshipped, isn’t it?” he whispers, massaging them with his thumbs slowly, “it is always a woman’s delight, but rarely that of a man.”

Jungkook agrees with a shy sigh. Taehyung’s touch feels so good that he can barely think of what to answer him.

“I want to pay attention to the parts which get overlooked. I may not have slept with a man as a human, but I had countless male lovers as a vampire. I am a man as well, I know the male body blindly, yet…” he meets Jungkook’s eyes again, “…I didn’t get the honour of learning yours yet.”

“Tae”, Jungkook gets out, having to gasp repeatedly. He was never promised to be treated like this before. So fully freed of gender roles, so entirely like a human.

“Can I learn you?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung smiles, heart skipping a beat.

“Show me where to touch you. I want to learn each path to take.”

“Oh god, Tae”, Jungkook lets out, feeling really giddy right now. His head is getting foggy. Taehyung managed to switch the roles with just his poetic words. They truly are witchcraft to Jungkook’s romantic heart.

“I shall listen”, Taehyung promises, lowering his lips to Jungkook’s right collarbone, “mon chèri. Mon beau chèri.”

Jungkook sighs, touching his arms for support. He can’t tell where he likes it most because his skin is currently so sensitive that every spot feels incredible. Or perhaps it is because no one really adored his collarbones before and Jungkook can’t handle attention to them.

“You have such beautiful collarbones, mon chèri. So delicate”, Taehyung whispers, tracing them with parted lips.

“Tae”, Jungkook whines, writhing away.

Taehyung looks at him, “does this spot not please you?”

“It does, it’s just a lot.”

“In uncomfortable ways?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “good ways. It feels so good. So good.”

Taehyung smiles softly, lowering himself again, “what about this spot?”

His lips begin their adoring dance along Jungkook’s shoulders. From his left, along his collarbones and neck, to his right. He falters for a moment, looking at what felt so different against his lips. A scar.

“Is this where your arm ripped off?” he asks him, tracing it gently.

“Yeah. It’s uhm, it’s silver in the real world. I, I don’t know why”, Jungkook stutters, tingling like crazy from the kisses Taehyung leaves on his scar.

“It is magical. A reminder what the curse couldn’t repair. Jimin has the same scar on his chest and back from where Namjoon ripped his heart out.”

“That makes….sense…aahm…” Jungkook sighs, falling into warm bliss.

Taehyung is getting lost in kissing him again, taking on his way back and repeating his journey. Over and over until Jungkook is arching his back and sighing Taehyung’s name.

“Is this good for you?”

“Yes, so good…”

“And this?”

Taehyung guides his kisses down Jungkook’s right arm, showing his lips their way with his fingers. And Jungkook is gasping. He was never kissed along his arm before. He was touched, groped, held but never kissed. Never adored. Never worshipped. His body feels weakened, he can’t stop Taehyung from turning his arm so his inner wrist was bared to him because of how foggy he makes him feel.

Taehyung lingers on it, kissing and licking it slowly. Jungkook squirms, letting out a squeak followed by a nervous laugh. Taehyung slows down, gazing up at him in question.

“Tickles.”

“Mhm, mon chèri”, Taehyung sighs and turns Jungkook’s arm again to kiss each of his fingers and knuckles.

Jungkook closes his fingers around Taehyung’s hand. Once again, this never happened to him before. He doesn’t know what to do, how to handle all of this. All he knows is that he is starting to feel vulnerable in familiar ways. He only gets like this when someone is helping him fall into subspace. Jungkook isn’t scared of the implications, enjoying the fall with a racing heart.

Taehyung lifts his head only to lower it again to Jungkook’s left arm. No inch should be left unkissed. He is so immensely in love with Jungkook’s body. There aren’t many people who ever made Taehyung say this. He always appreciated a beautiful body, but whenever he did, it was based on desire. Not with Jungkook. There is no desire motivating him, only love. And the hope that Jungkook will feel the appreciation he deserves to feel.

He lifts his head once each knuckle was kissed. Jungkook is clutching his hand so tightly, breathing heavily with his cheeks flushed.

“Did this feel good?”

“So good”, Jungkook gets out, “Tae I-”

“Yes?”

“I’m sensitive there.” Jungkook guides his fingers to his lower stomach on the part just above his hip bones. “There.”

Taehyung exhales shakily. He is starting to relax and feel comfortable in showing his spots. This is exactly what he wanted to happen. He wanted to allow Jungkook to fall into a comfortable headspace, to let go of societal expectations and simply enjoy being loved.

“Yes? Do you wish for me to kiss it?”

“Yes, please.”

“May I fix you?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung picks him up to lie him down on his back, sitting down on his lap. Jungkook’s head rests on a pillow, his hair is messy this way. His chest heaves up and down quickly, his eyes are foggy in submission.

“Are you comfortable?” Taehyung makes sure, fluffing up the pillow before combing his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah”, Jungkook whispers, feeling small and vulnerable.

“That is good to hear. Relax, mon chèri, relax”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips to the spot Jungkook showed him before.

Jungkook moans his name loudly, grabbing his hair and arching his back. His legs tremble, his toes curl. He expected anything but for this to feel so good. The intensity is as if Taehyung sunk him deep into his mouth, as if his most pleasurable spots were being stimulated. Jungkook has to gasp just as much, dropping on the blanket only so he could arch his back again. And again. And again.

Taehyung feels out of breath as well. This is the moan of a man who is finally loved right. This is the moan of a man who is treated as a person. This is the moan of a man who has discovered his favourite spot. Taehyung feels patches of wet excitement soak his briefs. Jungkook turns him on so much. His kisses however are still placed with love not desire.

Jungkook soon pulls him away, writhing on the blanket.

“Stop please. Stop.”

“Are you still comfortable?” Taehyung asks him softly, holding still for now.

“It’s, it’s a lot. I, I was never- this is the first time I’m kissed there.”

“I figured. It can be very overwhelming to be touched on a sensitive spot. You did very well for your first time”, Taehyung praises, “may I reward you with kisses to your stomach?”

“Yes, please oh god”, Jungkook allows him, parting his legs. He wishes for his pants to magically disappear and for Taehyung to take him in whole.

But Taehyung isn’t ready yet. Well, he is, but he merely doesn’t want to yet. He wants to show Jungkook that it is also possible for men to feel breathless in desperation. That it is also possible to be truly turned on. Getting hard is easy for a man, it doesn’t take much and because it is, his pleasure is so often overlooked. Taehyung wants to show Jungkook how much it is possible to get aroused as a man. That a hardened cock is not the highest form of desperation a man can experience.

He dances his hands up and down, left and right on Jungkook’s stomach, guiding his fingertips along his paths and following it up with his lips and tongue. Jungkook’s stomach is so perfectly sculpted and such hard work needs to be adored and worshipped.

“You are beautiful. So beautiful.”

Jungkook has to writhe again. He needs to stop him. It feels too good.

“Stop, please.”

Taehyung soothes the shivers by kissing a path up to his neck to worship it instead. Jungkook whines, rolling his head to the side as far as possible to make sure that Taehyung gets every inch.

“I can feel your heart race”, Taehyung whispers to which Jungkook merely keens and writhes. Taehyung kisses up and down along his jugular, taking in the sensation of his pulse. “It is so wonderful to feel how it affects you. You are so beautiful, everything about you.”

“Tae”, Jungkook has to stop him again. Everything is just too much. He pushes at his arms, arching his back.

“Do you still feel comfortable?” Taehyung asks him, soothing him by combing his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck me please. I, I can’t do much more.”

Taehyung smiles, “yes, you can. Relax, mon bel amour. Just relax.”

Jungkook melts into the blanket, fluttering his lashes. His eyes are so hazy, his cheeks so red. He has enough general knowledge about languages to understand Taehyung’s nicknames for him and they are weakening him. He is his beautiful love.

“That’s it, relax mon amour”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips back to Jungkook’s neck. He kisses him with love and gentleness, leaving no inch untouched until he magically happens to be back at the spot above his hip bone.

Jungkook shakes instantly, moaning so freely that Taehyung has to moan with him. This must feel like heaven to him. Such moans are normally only leaving him when he is pleasured in more obvious spots. Taehyung pays even better attention to it, wanting him to feel heavenly for as long as possible.

It feels like heaven to Jungkook. It does. Perhaps it feels even better than heaven. Taehyung’s big hands are on each side of his waist, warming him and making him feel so utterly cocooned in safety. Taehyung’s body touches the inside of his legs each time Jungkook tries to close them. They remind him how easy it is these days to give in to Taehyung. But what truly ruins him are his lips. He always knew this spot was sensitive, but it is insane how intense it actually is.

“Take them off please”, Jungkook begs with no control over his own words.

“Your pants?”

“Yes, please”, Jungkook mewls, lifting his hips eagerly.

Taehyung doesn’t waste any time. He takes off his pants and boxers, placing them aside carefully. Jungkook’s length stands throbbing instantly, begging for attention. Taehyung gazes at it. It is smaller than in the real world and Taehyung wants to taste every inch of him. His tip is glistening in the fiery lights, his veins cast shadows.

“You are beautiful.”

Jungkook rolls his hips up, begging for his touch.

“You are truly so beautiful. Every inch of you.”

“Hyung, please.”

Taehyung glances at him. His cock throbbed in his pants at the sound of this beg. Jungkook knew what he was doing, using their native tongue for it. He is actually desperate enough to forget every language but that of his childhood.

“You are so beautiful”, Taehyung whispers and lowers his lips to Jungkook’s foot. He already got him to a point of utter desperation, but he doesn’t want to rush it. It would be unfair to his lower body not to be adored. Taehyung loves every inch of him and he needs to show it. He kisses each toe, each instep, each ankle and sole before he finally moves up to his shin and calves.

“Mon bel amour, oh how I cherish you”, he whispers.

Jungkook whimpers, twisting the blanket. He doesn’t know how much more he can handle. He was turned on before, but not like this. He can’t even think straight anymore, nor properly breathe. He wants it to be faster and yet last forever. Jungkook doesn’t know what to do now that he is so properly turned on.

Taehyung moves on to his thighs, starting on the outside and working his way to the inside. One by one. Jungkook sobs his name with the first kiss upon his inner thigh, ripping his legs open so widely one could worry he might pull a muscle.

“Is this a wonderful spot for you?” Taehyung asks, tracing it with his tongue and fingers.

“Yes”, Jungkook coughs out, fucking the air, “please.”

“My beautiful chèri, oh mon beau.”

“Please, oh god please. Please”, Jungkook gasps out.

More kisses to his thighs lets him know that he won’t be released. His hand acts against his will. He grasps his own length, jerking it quickly.

The loud whimper he releases because of it, makes Taehyung look up.

“Hey”, he gasps, stopping him instantly. It is embarrassingly easy to drag his hand away. “What are you doing?”

“I, I need to be touched. I can’t do this anymore.”

“But, you’re a good boy. You don’t do such things “

Jungkook shudders, “I’m sorry”, he cries, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Taehyung melts. His heart races. He helped Jungkook into subspace. It was already known to him, but has it finally confirmed. With just his touch and romantic words, he helped him shed any kind of shame. Jungkook is so honestly him right now.

“Don’t apologise, you are still my good boy. My goodest boy”, Taehyung praises him and sits back, “now make me proud and hold still.”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, humming an enthusiastic yes.

Taehyung undresses hastily at first, but falters once it comes to his briefs. He glances at Jungkook. Something in his eyes makes Jungkook want to sit up and hold his waist for support. He does so with a dizzy head.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, painting adoration onto Taehyung’s features.

“So you noticed my hesitation.”

“I did. Is everything still okay with you?”

“More than alright. I am simply just silly.”

“Silly? Why?”

“Please don’t laugh at me.”

“Why should I laugh at you?”

“I am not big. I, I am only that big because of the vampirism.”

“That’s okay. I’m only human too.”

“You are beautiful as a human.”

Jungkook smiles, “I’m sure you are really beautiful too.”

Taehyung blushes. He finally feels confident again. He takes off his briefs, looking at his own cock instantly. Jungkook moans, gazing at him.

“What if I try? Maybe I can do it”, he argues because everything inside him begs to have Taehyung fill him. His cock is just as hard as his own, glistening in the shine of the fire. Its size is so human, so manageable. Jungkook craves the weight of it inside.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Human bodies are so stiff and fragile”, Taehyung says even if he craves the warmth of Jungkook.

“I’ll try to relax.”

“And we’ll use what as lube?”

“I don’t know, spit or precum.”

“Don’t be silly. Human bodies aren’t made to function with such weak lubricants.”

“But I want you”, Jungkook gets out shakily.

“I want you too, but I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“It’s not taking advantage when I want it.”

Their eyes meet. He is repeating Taehyung’s own words back at him. They share laughter.

“Oh Jungkook-ah, you mean so much to me”, Taehyung lets out, falling around his neck.

“Hyung”, Jungkook whimpers, sinking into his embrace.

“Lie down with me, please.”

They lie down, heads sinking into the pillows and limps tangling. They are both on their sides, facing each other. Well, they are falling into a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. Taehyung keeps his arms hooked behind Jungkook’s head, while Jungkook’s right hand grabs Taehyung’s hip to pull him closer. He throws his leg over his waist, grinding his hips into him just to make it feel a little like penetration. At least the movement is the same even if the warm stretch is missing.

The kiss breaks messily. Jungkook moans heavily, Taehyung answers him with parted lips. He drags his shaky hand out of Jungkook’s thick hair, guiding his fingers to Jungkook’s lips. The latter takes them in without hesitation, sucking and licking them as if they were cock. He doesn’t open his eyes for it. Taehyung doesn’t either. They are completely lost in the moment.

Soon Taehyung pulls out, sticking his fingers between Jungkook’s buttocks to rub his hole.

“Hyung”, the submissive younger moans, faltering in his grinds as his brain short circuits. Taehyung is massaging him, drawing circles and applying enough pressure to make it tingle.

“Does this feel good?” Taehyung asks breathily.

“Yes”, Jungkook whimpers, nodding his head. He grabs Taehyung’s hair, “please”, he breathes out, “please don’t stop.”

“I won’t”, Taehyung finally opens his eyes to gaze. He meets Jungkook’s hazy, drugged out eyes. “I exist to pleasure you, mon chèri.”

“Hyung”, Jungkook convulses, “it feels so good.”

“It does. You feel so good. So incredibly good.”

“Why does it feel so good? Oh god”, Jungkook whimpers, shuddering as another wave of electricity courses through him.

“Enjoy it, mon amour. You deserve it”, Taehyung whispers, feeling drugged out. This is the kind of state he wanted Jungkook to be in. Disbelief over how good the pleasure feels. This is what he should experience. His beautiful darling boy.

Jungkook, overwhelmed in pleasure and with his heart barely wanting to keep up, slides his hand between their bodies to touch himself. His cock ached so much, he needed relief.

What he hadn’t calculated in was Taehyung’s length being so close to his’ and so it happens that his trembling fingers wrap around Taehyung’s length as well.

“Yes”, Taehyung, who believes the frotting to be planned, sighs and rolls his hips into the touch, “yes, oh Jungkook, ah.”

“Hyung”, Jungkook whimpers, picking up a rhythm. It might have been a mistake at first, but he doesn’t want to fix it. Their frenulums are grinding together, their shafts are too and their flushed tips are getting messy in shared slick. This is the best mistake he ever made.

He tightens his grip around them, concentrating his touches on their tips because it feels best there. It brings Jungkook terribly close to his orgasm, but he doesn’t want to stop. Being with Taehyung like this feels too good. He doesn’t want to lessen the pleasure for even one second.

“You are heaven. My darling heaven”, Taehyung sighs and rewards Jungkook with a faster rim massage.

Jungkook falters. The touch burns him too deep. He gasps and gasps, arching his back so their stomachs touch even more. Their cocks grind against each other in his shaking hold, the movement makes Jungkook gasp even more.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful”, Taehyung presses out.

Jungkook peels his eyes open, meeting Taehyung’s adoring gaze. The older smiles, carrying honest love in his eyes.

“You are so beautiful”, he whispers.

This is it. The moment Jungkook realises that he is also in love with him.

“Please don’t break my heart again”, he begs in a whimper, spilling tears as his body trembles in ecstasy.

Taehyung pulls him closer and wraps his hand around a bundle Jungkook’s hair, sending shivers down his spine. The pressure around their cocks is increased as well this way, the fingers on his hole are filling him up just a little. So close. They are so close this way. Jungkook curls his toes and twists Taehyung’s hair, having to moan because nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

“Your heart is safe with me”, Taehyung whispers in their native tongue.

“Promise me.”

“I promise. You are my north star, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Taehyung”, Jungkook chokes out and sobs, “you’re making me cum.”

“Don’t hold back, my north star. I will follow. I promise.”

“Taehyung. I love you”, Jungkook wails, breaking apart as his heart has finally reached its breaking point.

Taehyung spills tears instantly. Jungkook said it. He loves him too. He loves him.

“I love you too”, Taehyung croaks and follows Jungkook with a sob. Jungkook’s hand stops working around their lengths, but they make up for it with desperate rolls of their hips. Their shared mess smears all over their lengths, spilling on their tummies as well. It is so warm. So magical. So right. In this moment, their spilled pleasure has one single purpose. To show their deep connection.

They are both immensely out of breath after their shared high, hugging each other for comfort. Both their hands are messy, but Jungkook doesn’t care, pulling him closer as his tears don’t seem to stop. He is in love with a man and it feels so right. He finally understands Taehyung. It feels so good to be queer. It is so right.

Taehyung’s own tears don’t stop, but their reasons are different. He is in love with a man who loves him back. He is in love with a man who won’t hurt him. He is in love with a good man. And it is in such ways where Taehyung won’t have to hold back on his intensity of love because he likes it when he is romantic. Taehyung feels as if something in his life is finally going right.

They don’t get dressed for a while after they calmed down, cuddling under a second blanket as the fire slowly dies down. And as they cuddle, they exchange kisses and smiles and boyish giggles because the night is just too wonderful not to fill it with happiness.

“I love you, I love you, I love you”, Taehyung keeps repeating the words over and over again. In every language he ever learned and Jungkook answers him in giggles and whispers of adoration.

“How are you?” Taehyung asks him, cradling his cheeks as his sparkling eyes race over his face obsessively, “are you feeling alright? Did you enjoy it? Are you happy?”

“I’m so happy, it was so good”, Jungkook answers him, lulling his words because he is so far gone in a giddy, droopy headspace.

“Oh Jungkook, I love you”, Taehyung croaks and hugs him, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

It won’t be last time he chants his most favourite words and Jungkook loves every single repetition.

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introverted-imagineer · 20 days

Text

The Vikings Ambition and the Emperor’s Request (Part 23)

Warnings: Language, gendered themes, warfare, violence, themes of pregnancy and infertility, religious themes, and smut. Please be careful not to engage with the content below if any of these warnings are inappropriate or impact your well-being.

This is a long chapter with a bit of time jumping so please bear with it.

-The Introverted Imagineer.

The markets of Constantinople were busiest in the early hours of the morning. Families buy bread and produce for the day, fishermen trade their catches as they row in and out of the harbour, and farmers sell milk and eggs before they are spoilt by the burning sun. It was easy to lose oneself in the crowd, the crowding and bustling a welcome change to the quiet and control inside the Emperor’s palace. The Emperor had been unduly generous since our arrival in Constantinople. His unwavering kindness reminded me of sweet Kurya…but unlike Kurya, something about it felt rather sinister. The influx of luxurious gifts, the invitations to dine with the Emperor and Empress, and the constant influx of service people always insisting on cleaning and cooking for us. I remember, back in London, a life like this seemed a total dream, never having to worry about what to cook, your room always clean, everyone at your beck and call. But now that I was experiencing it myself, instead of being on the other side, I despised it.

I quietly slipped out of our room, smiling as Twyla slept soundly in her basket Harald’s arm draped over the side, his fingers resting on her blanket. I gently clutched the bag close to myself, tip-toeing down the hallowed halls of the palace, and slipping out the closest exit. I never understood why I tip-toed, there was always a guard at every exit…there was no way to leave the place unnoticed. I clutched the bag closer as the sky gleamed with the rising sun, walking past a tired guard as he stood solemnly at his post. Getting things out of the palace was easy…getting stuff in was a little trickier.

I blew a sigh of relief as I walked down the cobbled decline amongst the streets of Constantinople. I looked inside my bag, taking note of the items: a delicately embroidered scarf, a selection of soaps, and a white linen undershirt. The Emperor’s influx of gifts and goods had come in useful the past couple of months since we’d been here. I knew I should feel guilty, selling the things that he generously gifted, but the reality was not even the Emperor would notice that things were missing. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Harald or Mathilda. To them, this life seemed to suit them…but it didn’t suit me. While it was clear, these items were more valuable than what merchants were willing to pay for them, I had gathered a reasonable saving. But with the constant bustling of life within and outside the palace walls of Constantinople, earning coin, particularly undetected, was rather easy.

It had been two months since our wedding, the Emperor and Empress’s grand union following a month later, and Mathilda and Consus’s only a mere week ago. Life had not slowed down enough to allow much time to spend as a family. I had spent most of my evenings alone, Harald usually coming back to the room well after we were asleep. Harald, though he tried, was kept busy by the Emperor and Empress. The Emperor was meticulous, cunning and driven; Harald knew that to help his campaign, he must help the Emperor with his first.

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I wandered around the market stalls, looking for new merchants to sell to. While merchants I had sold to in the past would likely accept more goods, I was cautious to refrain from trading with the same people. I couldn’t risk building a regular business with individuals, that’s when people would start to ask questions. ‘Where did you gather these herbs? How do you make these soaps? Where were these goods made?’. Truth was, Constantinople was still a strange land, lies like this would have been easier to tell back in London, but here I didn’t know anything.

An elderly man stood at his makeshift table, people walking past him without much interest in his goods. Small balls of thick yarn and strings covered his table, people likely judging that his wares would not be palatable for the summer heat. I approached him wearily, pretending to pick up a few of his goods and inspect them as I did. ‘Does anything here catch your eye, my dear?’ He excitedly asked. I put the string down, smiling at him as I put on my friendliest voice. ‘My sister, she’s looking for some thread, she’s unwell and has sent me to the markets to shop for her’ I reached into the bag, pulling the scarf from inside, holding it out for the man to inspect. He pulled it closer, running his fingers over the flowers and swirls that adorned the fabric, nodding impressed at the detail. ‘She likes to make scarfs like this, do you have any threads that are similar?’ He looked at me, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment. ‘Your sister has expensive taste, I’m afraid my wares don’t match the quality that your sister uses…’ I watched intently, inspecting him as he looked at the garment, impressed, almost intoxicated by the quality. This was the moment. ‘Well, between you and me sir, she’s really not well at all…if you are willing, maybe I can tempt you into buying it?’ He raised his eyebrow, looking me up and down. I purposely dressed modestly, careful not to wear anything that might alienate me from the ordinary worker in Constantinople. ‘Such quality of work is well beyond my means’ he said, tentatively placing it on the table. ‘Truly Sir, someone with such knowledge and taste like yourself would appreciate this better than I could…besides I’d be willing to part with it for a very agreeable fee’. I battered my eyelids slightly, cringing at myself as I took on the part of a helpless person, letting him believe that he could easily take the scarf for a tiny bit of what it was worth. He looked up at me again, pursing his lips together as he dug into his pockets, a sound of clinking as he shuffled his hand around. ‘This is all I can offer’ he said, sliding three copper coins across the table. I smiled, being sure to breathe loudly as I thanked him profoundly as if he were some sort of hero. ‘Bless you, sir, you are most generous!’.

Another person approached the table as I slid the coins into my smock, leading the man’s attention away. ‘You know, that scarf looks as though it were fit for a King’ a deep gruff voice whispered in my ear. I jerked away slightly, turning to look up at the person. His body was so large it cast a shadow over me. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, his words sinking deep into my stomach, a simmering panic bubbling in my stomach. Had I been too careless? Should I have chosen something less exquisite? I shielded the sunlight from my eyes as the man stood to reveal his full height. Through his thick dark beard, a set of smiling teeth gleamed. He held a small netted bag, contents filled with a selection of food and herbs. I felt my insides slither as I retreated into character. ‘Well I will pass your regards onto the maker’ I said, smiling as I tried to elegantly shift away from the man’s intentions. ‘You know, if you had anything similar I’d be willing to pay, certainly more than what you got for the scarf’. I shrugged my shoulders innocently. ‘Sorry, all I have is soaps’ I said, slowly wandering to the next table over. ‘Well that’s very lucky, my mother has asked for soaps too’ he chuckled, holding the bag of food up slightly. ‘Your mother is lucky to have such a devoted son’ I said, stopping to face him as I inspected him. His clothing wasn’t overly grand, the produce in his bag was modest enough. He smiled, nodding at the awkward compliment. ‘I’d like to think every mother deserves such treatment’. I nodded in agreement, thinking of my mother. I’d like to think that someone would have looked after her when I was taken into service. My thoughts were distracted as he dug into his pocket, the clinking sounding as he pulled out a silver coin. I hitched a laugh in my throat, his offering slightly too generous for a simple bar of soap. ‘That’s much more than any bar of soap is worth’ I said, turning my attention back to the stalls. ‘Well I figured, anywhere where you were able to get such a beautiful scarf, must also be selling soaps of high quality’ he said, dipping around and blocking my other side. ‘Also, anyone willing to sell a scarf for that price will likely need more than just a bit of money’.

‘Is there something I can help you with?’ I asked, my tone short as his persistence began to irritate me. ‘Just a bar of soap’ he said, holding out his silver coin. I huffed, snatching the coin from his grasp, pulling out all 3 of the soaps and shoving them into his hand. ‘One for you, two for your mother’. He brought them up to his nose, sniffing at the floral scents. He smiled, closing his eyes. ‘A smell of home’ He noted, slipping one into his pocket and two into the small shopping bag with the merchandise for his mother. I knew I should walk away, but it seemed my mouth got there before my brain could stop it. ‘Why does the smell of home please you so much? You do not live with your mother?’. He licked his lips, his shoulders tensing slightly. ‘I have been summoned to serve in the Emperor’s army’ he said, his voice slightly distressed as he said it. This is opposite to Harald’s when he talked about armies and war. While the Emperor had kept Harald busy, I had not known exactly what the Emperor had kept him busy with…nor what Harald had been supposedly ‘helping’ the Emperor with. ‘The Emperor is recruiting an army?’ I questioned, curiosity and questions generating unwillingly in my brain.

The kind stranger explained the political climate, how the Emperor was seeking to expand his Empire, and how he amongst many men was being recruited and sent to training camps. I could feel my insides boiling. I knew that Constantinople wasn’t a permanent home for us, but for Harald to possibly be so entwined with all this and not say a word. ‘I’m surprised you do not know of this, it is common knowledge amongst Constantinople that the Emperor is building an army?’. ‘I haven’t lived here long’ I noted. He nodded his head solemnly. ‘Might I be correct in sensing that is why you were willing to part with the scarf so cheaply?’. While he seemed well-meaning, his persistence and reference to that damn scarf had become annoying. ‘I don’t think that is any of your concern’ I noted, trying to end the conversation entirely. But predictably, he hadn’t finished. ‘Please forgive me…I couldn’t help but think we might be able to help each other.’ I clutched tighter to my bag, balling my other hand into a fist. I had seen these interactions growing up, and how they unfolded for women like my mother. ‘My mother has a rather spacious home, and with her being old, and with my call to service, she is seeking a new tennant to help her in her home.’ I could feel my grip loosening, a window of hope. ‘I only mention the scarf because nobody would be willing to part with such an item if they didn’t need to.’

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The elderly woman’s home stood on the far end of Constantinople. While most homes were stacked together and stood amongst the streets, a small village of homes stood independently amongst a field of green. While not isolated, many people walked amongst the grassy area; gardening, harvesting wildflowers, children playing and climbing the trees. It was a vision of heaven itself compared to the same walls inside the palace. I couldn’t help but feel butterflies in my stomach, a fluttering of comfort and calmness as the scene reminded me of summers from my childhood. The farmers, their children, and meadows of grass; something I had only admired from a distance. But this could be the opportunity to give my daughter what I never had. The kind stranger, who had introduced himself as George, wandered to a small straw triangle hut held together with dried hardened clay-like mud and woven twigs. An elderly woman sat out front on a large boulder, shucking a cob of corn from its leaves. ‘Mama’ he called, his arms wide-spread, his shopping hanging from one hand. The old woman dropped the corn, her hands coming to her face, gushing at the sight of her son. She seemed overwhelmed by his presence, speaking to him in a language I could not understand. I looked on curiously from afar as her slender frame circled her large son. She pulled him right down, gripping his cheeks in her hand and kissing his cheeks fiercely and repetitively. The scene was curious as if she had not seen him in some time.

When she finally released her son, he handed her the shopping, she looked overwhelmed with happiness as she inspected the contents. He gestured in my direction, speaking to her in their language. She glided towards me, a smile on her face as she gripped my cheeks in her hand, kissing them fervently like she had her son. Her son’s voice emitted. ‘Forgive her, she has lived a long life, and can get confused.’ However, the feeling of tender mothering, the warmth of her hands, the pressing of her thin lips against mine, the feeling was almost intoxicating. Something I had so dearly missed, I didn’t mind it. She gripped my hand, pulling me inside her home excitedly.

The inside was sparse. A simple table and chairs, a fireplace, a straw bed in the far corner, and a set of shelves that were home to her cookware. Next to her fireplace, a pot simmered, a line hung from one wall to the other, a smell of honey wafting as her homemade candles rested on the line drying. A small archway with a curtain hung at the end of the room, which pulled back to reveal another small bedroom with another straw bed. While not as grand as the palace, it was more than what my mother and I had. Some baskets and a bucket full of water sat pushed against the wall of the smaller bedroom. The elderly woman quickly tended to the room, trying to fluff the pillow and straighten the blanket on the bed to make it look more appealing. I walked to the small window, opening the wooden shutters. The sun shone brightly, the grass shimmering with the light. George stopped his mother’s efforts. ‘Maybe it’s not quite what you thought?’ He questioned, his tone laced with a bit of disappointment. I turned back towards them, his mother clutching onto her son’s side, a tight lip smile as if she were trying to apologise. ‘What sort of arrangement are you suggesting?’ I asked, making the tall man smile with a sense of relief. ‘My mother needs help around the home, things like collecting water, going to the market, and helping her in her garden and with her sheep, things her body is too tired to do.’ ‘I have one stipulation’ I noted. George tilted his head curiously. ‘I have a daughter.’ His mother looked between us, confused by the language barrier. I couldn’t understand his translation, but there was one word I did. ‘Baby’. With that, the elderly woman seemed more spritely with excitement as she repeated the words, nodding with delight. ‘Baby, baby.’

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The room back at the palace was empty. Harald likely taken Twyla for a stroll like he did most mornings. I put my bag down, reaching under the feather mattress and pulling out the bag of coins, adding today’s money to the collection. I nervously slid the coins into my bag, wondering how I was going to tell Harald the news. Our marriage had been civil, but nothing more extended beyond fussing around after Twyla and sleeping in the same bed at night like two strangers forced to share. We could be independent, and Twyla would be around other children, endless fields to play and explore. Maybe I was making a mistake?

The door creaked open, and I could feel my insides knotting themselves into tight circles. ‘Harald…I need to talk to you’ I said, turning around to face the door, only to find it was not Harald. ‘Such a content child’ her voice sounded, floating across the room, piercing my ears. I stood up, dipping into a deep curtsy. ‘Empress’ I greeted dutifully. She stood there, looking around the room curiously, Twyla sitting soundly in her arms as she looked at me. I could feel every instinct in my body become alert, my eyes bulging slightly, my jaw clenching my teeth together tightly. ‘I’m so sorry if Harald inconvenienced you’ I said, walking towards her and stretching my arms out to take Twyla. But Elena didn’t budge. ‘We have spent many mornings together haven’t we?’ She said, tickling her little stomach and making her squeal in delight. I could feel a vein protruding from my forehead, I could just imagine a cloud of steam radiating from my ears. ‘You have?’ I asked wearily. ‘Well with you going to the market so frequently, and my husband requiring Harald, who else is there to mother his little girl?’. She smiled, my body freezing at her comment. She knew what she was doing…and I couldn’t do anything to her. Elena was maddening, but the Empress was vicious. ‘Well, hopefully, you’ll be mothering your own baby soon’ I said, offering a friendly chuckle at the end to mask the sarcasm. She walked forward, placing Twyla in her Moses basket. ‘I intend to make sure of it’ she said, her smile polite as she walked out of the room.

As soon as the door shut, I got busy. I opened every drawer, every bit of Twyla’s clothing, and a few pieces of mine, packing our belongings for our new home.

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‘What are you doing?’ I jumped in surprise as Harald’s voice sounded. I tucked Twyla’s blanket into the bag, wiping my eyes before facing him. ‘I have found somewhere to live’ I replied so clinically. Harald’s eyebrows bent in confusion, as he looked around the room, his hands gesturing to the finely furnished room around us. ‘This isn’t a home Harald, it’s a constant watch guard’ I replied swiftly. ‘So you just decided without talking to me that we’re all moving?’ He asked sarcastically. ‘No, Twyla and I are moving, doesn’t seem like you’re staying here for long anyway.’ His face went stiff, the natural pink from his upper cheeks going pale. ‘You’re taking our daughter away from me?’ He asked, his voice quiet but his tone emitting one of panic and anger. ‘Harald, I would never take her away from you, but it seems as though you’ve allowed other people to mother our daughter’ I spat, slamming the contents into the bag violently, forcing them to fit. ‘Excuse me?’ He said, unlacing his weapon belt as he threw it on the bed. ‘Elena came in this morning, she seems to have been spending a lot of time with Twyla’ I put my hand on my hip, firmly placing my feet on the floor as if to match his large stature. ‘Even had the nerve to tell me that she had been mothering our daughter because my husband was too busy running around after the Emperor’. Harald quickly walked toward the other side of the room, closing the door quickly but quietly to not disturb the sleeping baby. ‘Y/N you must not be so careless! Elena is now empress and we must speak of her as such’ he spoke quietly, his body now inches from mine, his hot breath warming my cheeks. ‘And I have not placed our daughter in the care of the Empress, if you are not back from the market, which you spend a suspicious amount of time doing, by the way, I bring her back to the room myself or yes on a rare occasion Inaya would bring her back for a sleep.’ He sighed, brushing his sweaty hair away from his forehead. ‘The Emperor has requested mine and Leif’s presence a lot this week, so I confess Inaya has been caring for her a bit these past days.’

‘Is the Empress at these meetings?’ ‘No, she simply dismisses herself…the Emperor has only confided in the help of Leif, his general and some of his men, and I’ he spoke, but I could tell by the way his forehead creased, that both our minds were rattling with questions. ‘Is it true the Emperor is raising an army?’ I asked curtly. Harald peeled his eyes away from mine, focusing his attention on Twyla as he watched her soundly sleep in her basket. A pang of guilt washed over him as he exhaled loudly. ‘The Emperor has appointed me as part of his personal Varangian guard…the Emperor wants me to go to his camps and train his men should the moment arise that would require an army…’ I crossed my arms as he sat cautiously at the end of the bed. ‘I spoke to the Emperor and he insisted that you and Twyla would still be cared for here at the castle while I fulfilled my new duties, I wasn’t going to just leave again. My family is my first priority.’ he said, shaking his head, as he glued his eyes to Twyla. The bed dipped as I sat down gingerly next to Harald. Harald’s entire life revolved around his ambition to be King of Norway, to return to his home once again and rule. His admission that his family was now his priority was unexpected. I waited for Harald to break the silence. But instead, he gently slipped his hand into mine.

‘So, tell me about where you intend to live’ he said.

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Whispering winds sang across blue skies, the grass danced with the breeze's rhythm, and birds chirped like a choir in church. It had been nearly a month, and now, every afternoon was like this, sitting in the sun, our toes curling in the blades of grass, dandelion seeds and wisps slowly nettling into the locks of my hair. A baby who rested solemnly, playing with whatever her hands could grasp, finding a world of fascination in the things we forget to appreciate. The feeling of steady ground beneath my feet was pure ecstasy. We would sit for hours, listening to the sounds of nature, enjoying the sounds away from the city of Constantinople, watching children run in the meadows, people picking wild mushrooms and herbs for medicines in the secret secure spot that lay outside the walls of the city. I would tell Twyla stories of her grandmother, of her guardian angel Kurya, whether she would retain any of that information I couldn’t know…but it felt right to tell her.

These days were blissful, and too long overdue. Like the small farm from my childhood, this field of seemingly nothing was now everything to me.

The change of pace was wonderful. To have purpose and routine every day. To cook one’s own meals, to freely walk around without a guard watching your every move, to become part of a community where other people lived their lives simply and happily. Our elderly landlady, Emera, while we didn’t speak the same language, seemed overtly grateful for our company. She loved to help with the mundane tasks of parenthood, like bathing, feeding, playing, and dressing Twyla. She was knowledgeable in tending to her garden and precise in demonstrating how to identify and pick weeds, to use and dry manure to effectively fertilise the soil. She was even happy to invite her neighbours over, often slipping extra herbs to them when she had them spare. It seemed she was motherly to all, she was the essence of tenderness and love.

It was almost ironic, how living apart, we had seen more of Harald than we had since living in Constantinople. Harald would make the effort to come to the sparse little village each evening, his new Varangian uniform often catching the excited attention of the children. They would flock to him, trying to spar him with twigs and sticks, the way they would gleefully giggle when Harald would put them over his shoulder and spin around. It was a side of Harald I had not seen, but one that was easy to love. He would often sit in the grass with us, holding Twyla up by her hands as her wobbly legs tried to balance beneath her. She would inevitably giggle, falling so gaily into his arms on purpose. Like she knew, her daddy would always catch her no matter what. Emera would also try to slip Harald her homemade salves, but he would always sweetly put them back on her shelf without her knowing. Harald joined us for meals most nights, sneaking bits from the palace kitchens to make fragrant and delicious foods.

Today’s visit, however, Harald seemed to have something heavy on his shoulders. Instead of playing with the children and Twyla, he held her close and tightly. I watched wearily, unsure of what was to come. Emera watched warily, an essence of uncertainty as she looked between Harald and me from her garden. I feared what Harald had to say, but I dearly hoped I was wrong.

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‘The Emperor is sending me to the camp to train his men to fight’ I closed my eyes, the sky now dark, the only light coming from the huts. The only sound Emera singing to little Twyla from inside. ‘How long?’ I asked wearily. ‘I cannot say’ he said, with just as much despair. While I knew the wise thing to do was to accept the information and discuss what this would mean for our future, my stubbornness was much too strong. ‘The Emperor does not care that you have a family, that you have a child? Not even the decency to tell you for how long you will be separated?’ I asked, adrenaline radiating through my body as I stood up, scuffing and kicking the grass at my feet. ‘I don't think the Emperor quite understands…’ he wearily noted in a quiet tone. ‘He's married! He should understand, but being the so-called leader that he is I bet he's not even leaving the comfort of his palace is he?’ I exclaimed more viciously. ‘Shhhh’ Harald said, reaching out and grasping my forearm. ‘The Emperor is looking to expand his empire, but this could benefit us too.’ ‘Benefit us how?’ I questioned. ‘The Emperor has made an offer; any people I can recruit, I can use to build my army’ he said so diplomatically. ‘We can leave Constantinople, we can go back to Norway, we can build Twyla a real home, teach her about her culture, her ancestors’ he said, standing up, placing both his hands on my forearms. ‘Don’t make this about us, this is your army, your ambition’ I said jabbing my finger into his hard chest. ‘We agreed y/n, Constantinople wasn’t forever, where did you think we were going to go?’ He fiercely retorted. ‘No, no, no, you can’t use this, building an army to get us home excuse as a valid reason to just leave us in the shit’ I exclaimed, stepping out of his grip, and throwing my arms up. ‘This isn’t about the Emperor, it’s about you! Every single thing is about Harald Fucking Sigurdsson!’ ‘You have no idea what I’m trying to do’ he seethed back. ‘There are some dangerous people here, and there are some dangerous plans in place, and I am doing what I can to keep you and Twyla safe and keep this family safe’ he said, trodding heavily after me as I walked aimlessly through the field. ‘You know what, I believe we were starting to become a family, but here’s the god-damn truth Harald, there are dangerous people everywhere, and dangerous things that happen everywhere, so forgive me if I don’t fucking understand how building an army and trying to take the throne in a country that you haven’t been to in some time I take, is going to keep us any safer than we are here!’ ‘Might I remind you, that my family and Twyla’s family extends beyond you!’ He spat.

I stopped in my tracks, turning back in the direction of the house. ‘Well Harald Sigurdsson, I’m so pleased to know that you’re willing to risk all our lives so we can all go back to Kattegat to chase ghosts from your past, who may or may not fucking exist anymore, but why am I surprised? This is Harald’s world, we’re all just living in it! God forbid that you or your children don’t become Kings and Queens of Norway!’ I spitefully yelled, walking right past Harald, and back to the house.

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As the days passed, I couldn’t help but wonder about Harald. Had he decided to stop visiting altogether or had the Emperor already sent him to the training camps? Only once had Emera tried to ask. ‘Harald, no?’ She had asked, pointing at the house on a sunny afternoon in the garden. ‘No’ I responded curtly, digging into the soil for potatoes.

However, the days turned into weeks, and there was nothing. I worried that Twyla had noticed, the way her father had stopped coming. I made sure to play with her every afternoon the way Harald did, encouraging her to stand, to walk, to fall into my arms. I had also spent time wondering about Harald’s other child. Were they even alive? Where were they? What did they look like? Did she have a brother or a sister? Would she ever meet them? I remember my mother making her special concoctions and herbs she would take every day. Had the woman from Harald’s past also taken such precautions? I hadn’t thought so much about Harald’s other child, but since that night the questions kept creeping into my head. How I, as a child, had so desperately wished for a sibling, someone to play with every day, to cuddle up to at night when the nights were cold, to have a friend that wouldn’t judge my birth status. But then again, I wouldn’t wish such a lonely existence on any child, and I was determined to make sure that Twyla had friends.

The markets themselves had become a little less busy, Emera’s son George hadn’t been seen since the day we met. Slowly word spread that people were being sent to the training camps, but it didn’t stop life in Constantinople.

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I sat outside the house on a wooden bench, the sky turning orange as the sun began to make its way to bed. The village was empty, everyone inside cooking their evening meals as smells wafted with the gentle breeze. Twyla sat on my lap, clinging onto strands of my hair, fighting her eyelids that were heavier than her will to keep them open.

‘Beautiful Twyla’ a voice sounded. I could feel my neck click as I whipped it around to the voice. My heart dropped slightly, that the presence that I had hoped was not there. The Emperor stood with a smile, two guards stood behind him. I stood, dropping into a curtsey as Twyla nestled her head against my shoulder. ‘Emperor’ I greeted. He looked around, taking notice of the small little huts, the gardens sparse compared to his own. I could only imagine what he was thinking. ‘She chose this over the palace?’ ‘I hope you have not gone to such trouble just to visit little Twyla’ I said, forcing an enthusiastic smile on my face, breaking the silence. He walked forward, gently holding his hand out. Twyla reached forward, gripping his hand, gently tugging his fingers close to her face as she poked and prodded at the jewels bedazzling his hand. ‘Be careful, she’s taken to putting just about anything in her mouth these days’ I said. ‘She has grown much’ he said, gripping onto her fingers, giving her hand a little shake. He sat down on the bench, gesturing for me to join him. His friendly presence, now solemn worried me.

‘You must know y/n, I hold your husband in the highest regard’ he said. I nodded in agreement. ‘I am visiting and telling you this as a friend y/n.’ I could feel my insides crawl, forcing my face to remain neutral. It felt improper, sickly even for the Emperor to regard me in such a way. Friend. While the Emperor had been generous in many ways, he had been cruel in others. ‘Has something happened to my husband?’ I asked, a sudden panic dawning on me. Why else would the Emperor come other than to deliver the sad news to his widow? ‘Harald is fine for now, his campaign is successful, and he is proving worthy as my Varangian guard’ he said, offering a friendly laugh. But I did not share his amusement, my teeth grinding together as I held the Emperor’s gaze.

‘I intend to expand my Empire, this army, with the help of Harald, and my general, my army is strong.’ I could feel my palms sweat, my body getting hotter by the word. How these men played childish games at an expensive price. How war was treated as such a normal part of life. He placed his hand on my knee, patting it to soften whatever blow he was about to deal. ‘My army will be leaving for the South West soon, and I will not lie to you, I don’t expect our entrance will be welcomed’ I could feel my nails dig into my palm. An ambition I couldn’t understand. How could someone with so much demand so much more? ‘As Harald is my dear friend, and you are his wife, I am telling you that it is possible that Harald will not return for a long time.’ I clutched Twyla closer, my grip disturbing her as she tirelessly wriggled, a small grunt emitting. ‘Sorry Emperor, could you excuse me for a moment?’ I said, more than asked, excusing myself quickly.

I opened the door to the house, Emera sitting soundly next to the fire. Her calm and content expression turned to one of concern as she pulled herself from the chair, reaching out and cupping her hand to my cheek. She swiped her thumb under my eye, wiping away a tear I didn’t even know was there. I returned her kind gesture with a tight-lipped smile, handing Twyla over as Twyla instinctively leaned into Emera’s reach. I turned back to the door, steadying myself to face the Emperor again.

The Emperor’s message was simple. His army is going away, and Harald might not come back at all. As much as I was annoyed at Harald, how harshly our last meeting had ended. I had only one thing to say to the Emperor.

‘Take me to my husband.’

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*Knock knock knock*

He opened the door wearily, just so much that I could see only half of his face. He clenched his eyes slightly, adjusting to the bright lantern in my hands, making out my features in front of him. ‘Y/N?’ He whispered, carefully opening the door slightly more as he carefully assessed the environment behind him. ‘What are you doing here’? he whispered nervously, his conscience wavering if he was going to let me in or not. ‘I need to talk to you’ I whispered. ‘I need to talk to you too’ he whispered back, his chest rising and falling as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. ‘The Emperor already told me…I just came to say goodbye I guess’ I murmured. He opened the door only slightly, grasping my wrist and pulling me inside the tiny room, closing the door with an agonising squeak. I looked around. His shirt lay on the floor torn and withered. On the small table a collection of battered weaponry and a shield. I glanced at Harald’s back noticing the bruises and scrapes. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach. If this was the state training had left him in, what would the real battle be like?

He stood still, our eyes locked as we waited carefully, listening intently to be sure that nobody else in the camp was awake. The only sounds being the quiet breathing, and the sound of the flame flickering from the lantern. ‘Harald I’ I began to whisper, a depth of sorrow in my tone. ‘Shhh’ he whispered, pressing his ear against the wooden door. A sound of gentle footsteps cascaded down the hallway, stopping right out front of the door. A gentle tap on the door sounded. ‘Harald…’ The Empress’s voice gently carried. ‘Harald, are you in there?’ Harald ducked his head, his stray hair falling in front of his eyes as he tightly pursed his lips together.

Maybe this was a mistake. I started to reprimand myself, you stupid idiot. Had I indulged too much in a fantasy that we could be some happy family? But the Emperor’s words were like an explosion as if only now, I realised that Harald Sigurdsson was an integral part of my life. My husband, my daughter’s father…my ally in this strange place. ‘He may never come back’ the Emperor’s words kept ringing in my head. Against all consciousness, against all good reason, against all the hurt caused in the past, against my own self-discipline, I had to say goodbye. But here she was, the Empress knocking on his door in the middle of the night. How would this end? Would it be easier to just let him go…to finalise whatever wishes he may have if he never did return? What should I tell our daughter? The Empress’s voice whispered again, this time closer to the door. ‘I can see the light from under the door.’ Maybe it was best to just accept defeat. I took a step forward, only to be gently pinned against the cold solid wall, as Harald’s hand cupped over my mouth, his body pressed firmly against mine. Our eyes locked, his eyes alert, but the skin underneath them was dark and sagging. He gently lifted his other hand, bringing his finger to his lips to ensure my silence. I nodded, his palm, however, was still firmly placed against my mouth. The sound of her heels clicking together sounded outside as she uncertainly paced outside the door. Another voice sounded, one much deeper than her lilted tone. ‘Some of the men have gone for a meal, but I must insist that I escort you back to the castle, this is not the place for a lady, the Emperor’s orders.’ The man’s tone reasoning, but firm in conveying this was a direct order of the Emperor. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor sounded as the pair walked down the long corridor, away from Harald’s door.

Harald removed his palm, but his body stayed firmly pressed against mine, his forearm mounted on the wall above my head. ‘Why are you here? Is Twyla okay?’ He asked, his eyebrows knotting in worry as the lines on his forehead involuntarily creased. ‘She’s fine, she is with Emera’ I whispered. ‘I just…I wanted to apologise’ I whispered. ‘I never knew my father, it was just me and my mother. I don’t even know if he knew I existed at all. But it was wrong of me to accuse you of using your children like pawns to get what you wanted.’ He dropped his eyes to the ground, breaking eye contact. ‘And I’m sorry for dismissing your other child…I just, when I saw the Empress, her holding our baby and her arms, and things had been going so well since we moved away from the palace, and maybe I was just too naive in thinking that we were all going to be some happy family’ I just…I just’ I stuttered. ‘I promise you. You are my wife, and you are Twyla’s mother.’ He took his arm from the wall, tracing his finger gently down my arm as he wrapped his hand around mine, the heat from him his naked torso exposing me to the cold as he walked over to the bed. He patted the spot next to him, offering me a seat. ‘This could be treasonous’ he said, battling with whatever thought was running around in his brain. ‘The Empress confided in me that she does not know if the Emperor was capable of giving her children.’ He whispered. I looked back at Harald, a quizzical look on my face. ‘It’s only been a short time…surely that is not enough time to?’ I said, miming a bulging stomach with my hands. ‘She had expected to be at least a mother to his children from his previous marriage…but he had not sired a child at all.’ I looked at our hands, realising they had reconnected, my fingers mindlessly trailing around his palm.

It had begun to make sense. It was no secret Elena was infatuated with Harald long before we stood on the shores of Constantinople. But her effortless flirting and amorous suggestions around him…her need to sire an heir to secure her own marriage. While her desire for Harald was still longstanding, her efforts since her wedding had been newly developed. Having Harald to herself would be a bonus, but having a child would be everything for her. As a woman, as a wife, but in her position, as an Empress, not bearing children for her husband was not an option. ‘I promise, I have been a faithful husband to you since we wed’ he insisted, wrapping his other hand around mine like a security blanket. My heart felt heavy for The Empress…her desire to have a child. Something I hadn’t ever struggled with myself. ‘Speaking of Twyla…when she’s older she may ask questions about her father…and if you weren’t to come back…’ I whispered, bringing my other hand to cup Harald’s. He let out a heavy sigh, his forehead pressing against mine. Something neither of us wanted to think about, but we both knew we had to be practical about it. He took a deep breath, his hands giving a gentle squeeze. ‘Tell me about your father y/n’ he quietly questioned.

I leaned back, looking at him cautiously. My stomach was turning in knots. It felt like a forbidden subject. I remember asking my mother when I was younger, but her response was clear. Never ask. We had never discussed it, but nobody had ever asked me. ‘When I asked my mother about it…she scolded me. There was no attempt to lie or make something up about it. She just said it wasn’t worth discussing ever.’ I shrugged my shoulders, it didn’t seem as much of a deal to me as it appeared to Harald as he glared at me with a pitiful look. ‘I remember I would wonder, for a period of my childhood always intensely looking at the men my mother was around, trying to find any similarities between us. It drove me mad for a while… I suppose I just learnt to live with it.’ Harald nodded, taking in my words as he sat pondering in contemplation. ‘What about your father?’ I asked, sliding further onto the comfort of the small bed.

‘My father Sigurd Syr, he wasn’t a man who chased political ambition as much as his sons. My brother Olaf, my father was very supportive of his leadership and command. But he was modest with his wealth, and took much care of his properties…he was promised the throne…but he didn’t seem to mind so much that his sons wanted it more.’ I admired the way he smiled when talking about his father, similar to the way he smiled when he was with Twyla. Deep down, maybe Harald was similar to his father, a simple family man. But Harald was also very dutiful to his famous lineage, with an equal desire to keep the legacy of his ancestors alive. But how was Twyla going to fit into all of this?

His fingers twined with mine, the words dragging out sorrowfully. ‘I don’t want Twyla to worry about me. That is too cruel a fate to force onto a child’ he whispered, leaning forward slightly. I didn’t know what that meant, but I too didn’t want the same fate for our daughter. I simply nodded, sliding off the bed, and placing my feet gently on the floor. ‘If we don’t see one another again, I will make sure she knows that her father is kind, loyal…and brave’ I mustered out, my throat tightening as the words came out. The aura was depressing, I wanted to leave…but part of me didn’t want to leave Harald Sigurdsson just yet. I stood up slowly, unravelling my hand from his as he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. I gently cupped his cheeks, bringing myself down and placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. I leaned down and whispered against his ear, his long hair resting on my lips. ‘Come back to us.’

His eyes rose from the floor, connecting with mine, his eyes flickering as they searched my face. It was like a trance, my limbs no longer in control of my body, an urgency taking over. Instead of slipping my hands away and walking to the door as I planned, instead, my hand moved across his face, smooshing his lips into an awkward purse as my fingers squeezed his cheeks. I knew it would just make things harder…but I couldn’t resist. I pulled his face to mine, pressing my lips tenderly on his. Our lips locked together in a sweet embrace. Harald’s hands quickly cupped my cheeks, pulling my face tighter towards him as he stood up, his lips desperately chasing mine. I slid my hands down to his neck, tenderly pulling away from his lips to connect my lips with his neck.

Gentle pecks on his neck turned greedy as I softly nipped and sucked on his salty skin. He groaned gently, his hands wandering down my chest, one hand cupped gently on my breast, the other balling the fabric of my dress into his palm. I begrudgingly pulled my lips from his neck, the hairs on my arm standing as I whispered into his ear.

‘Take it off’

He didn’t hesitate. Our hands almost fought as he clawed at my dress, the fabric of my dress emitting a gentle rip as he pulled from the collar, revealing the skin of my shoulder, his lips attacking my newly exposed naked skin. I pulled him closer, my hands on the firm curve of his bottom, a firm bulge pressing into my stomach as I dipped my thumbs into the waist of his trousers, basking in the feeling of skin I had not touched in so long. I ran my thumbs around the perimeter feeling the soft hair around his pubis. I reached my fingers inside the front of his trousers, gently slipping one hand to cusp the bulge. He let out a heavy groan, but in typical Harald fashion, was not willing to relent control that easily.

He reached down, pulling my hand from his groin, spinning me around, his hands running from my shoulders, down my arms, until his calloused hands gripped tightly to my wrists, pinning my hands against the wall. His lips attacked my neck, as he pulled my dress down, his lips trailing down my body following each inch of exposed skin. When my dress finally pooled to the floor, my naked body fully exposed, I couldn’t feel the cold anymore. He placed his hands on my hips, spinning me back around the face him. His trousers were only slightly unbuttoned, exposing just the top of his erection. I so desperately wanted to fall to the floor with him, to feel his skin pressed against mine. But instead, his hands still gripped my hips, he pushed me back against the wall, his tongue gliding down from my belly button, as he seamlessly hooked one of my legs over his shoulder.

The pressure of his lips, the swift kisses, the running of his tongue. I quietly tried to contain my moans, but the feeling was too electrifying. But as my hot breaths turned into pants, muffled sighs turned into moans, this only encouraged his efforts further. It was like my skin was on fire, a powerful surge radiating, my legs becoming weaker.

Harald unhooked my arm from his shoulder, sliding me down the wall by my hips, pulling my chest firmly against his as I straddled him, a new wave of pleasure rushing over me as my pulsing heat grinned against his still-clothed bulge. Our tongues collided, but instead of a rushed desperate kiss, it was slow and sensual. I desperately rubbed against him, my hips grinding as my hands caressed his back, pulling him closely so that no gap was left between our skin. He slid his hands around my wrists, pulling my arms around his neck, his arms then looping around my lower back. With no warning, with no effort, Harald lifted me, shuffling onto his knees, and lowering me gently onto the floor without even breaking the contact of our skin. Finally, he reached down, pulling his trousers off.

I waited desperately for contact, for that feeling I hadn’t felt for so long. I arched my back in anticipation, pushing me further against his chest. ‘Do you want this y/n?’ He whispered, the hair in my ears standing to attention. I lifted my neck from the floor, looking straight into his eyes. ‘I want my husband’ I breathlessly moaned out. Harald’s lips reconnected instantly with mine.

As he entered me, I let out a little squeak. The feeling was so tight, I had not expected it after having a child. He stopped immediately, trying to pull out gently. But I ran my hands down his back, gripping onto his butt cheeks to halt his movement. ‘Stay. Right. There’ I whispered between kisses. He stayed there, our lips doing more work as I slowly pushed his hips forward until I felt him completely inside me. Slowly he began to move, the slight sting going away, and the feeling of him inside me became electrifying. His movements were slow, our foreheads pressed together. The only sounds emitting from either of us were our panting breaths.

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We lay on the floor, our legs tangled into one another, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead as I rested in his arms, my arm lazily draped over his stomach. It was like the high was pouring from my body, where I had felt full, I now felt low and empty. My brain rattled, wanting to scream my innermost thoughts. ‘Please don’t leave me. Don’t leave us. Let’s just take a boat and run away.’ My mind racing with any possible scenario, any way of escape. But I knew Harald too well. His loyalties to his family, to his men, to his duty were strong.

‘You have endured so much my love…so I will not lie to you, but I will do everything I can to come back to you both’ he whispered, pulling a blanket from the bed with his free arm, draping it across our bodies as we lay solemnly in each other’s arms. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but the emptiness of his words hit me hard. This could likely be our last moments together forever.

When I finally parted from him in the early hours of the morning, our final exchange was simple. ‘Goodbye, Y/N’. ‘Goodbye Harald Sigurdsson’.

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True to his style, the Emperor wasn’t going to lead his army off into battle without the grandest of ceremonies. I held Twyla on my hip, Mathilda at my side as we watched from the crowds as the Emperor grandly announced how he had trained and built the finest army the empire had ever seen. The Empress sat dutifully at his side, clothed in grand gowns and covered in expensive jewels.

‘Let me introduce to you, our experienced, loyal, and skilled warriors. Harald Sigurdsson!’ The crowd roared in applause, I clutched tightly to Mathilda’s hand, the noise overwhelming. The Emperor stood on the stage, his smile visible from afar, beaming as Harald walked on. He was adorned in uniform, a large helmet within his grip as he obediently bowed to the Emperor, waving at the crowd. ‘He looks so natural up there, don’t you think?’ Mathilda spoke. I simply nodded. But I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so happy standing up there, considering the circumstances. When the crowd’s cheers began to die down, the Emperor need only clap his hands together for his constituents to fall to obedient silence.

‘I also introduce, my personal choice, a great and skilled warrior indeed, General George Maniakes!’ The crowd emitted even larger screams and cheers as the General began walking up the stairs. Like Harald, he bowed to the Emperor, but it was only when he stood and faced the crowd that I realised I had met him before. I leaned into Mathilda, my heart racing as she gripped tightly onto my side, steadying herself with my weight now leaning against her. ‘What’s wrong?’ She asked in a panicky tone. ‘That…That’s him…that’s…it’s his mother’s house’ I stammered. ‘He looks so different…’ I stated, confused by his imposing presence on the stage. My eyes flicked to Harald, who looked tensely at the General.

The Emperor handed a goblet to each of the men, the priest having blessed the contents. The Emperor offered a cheers to the crowd. But the General struck my soul. I looked at him, his eyes directly on me and Twyla. He smirked a sinister smile, lifting his goblet in my direction, laughing deeply as he took in the expression on my face. His face said it all. ‘I know exactly who you are.’

Fuck.

#vikings #vikings valhalla #harald x reader #vikings x reader #harald sigurdsson #imagines #vikings imagine #x reader #valhalla #leif eriksson

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whitedarkmoonflower · 1 year

Note

Hi, could you write something about Sihtric rescuing a princess (Alfred's daughter) and they both falling in love for each other despite the princess is about to marry somebody else.

Princess

Pairing: Sihtric x reader

Authors note: I must admit this request is already for some time in my inbox. I really hope you are still here to read it, dear Anon. Besides that my real life is a bit demanding right now (I mean it positively), I hesitated to start writing as I thought there are already so many fics about this. But when I finally started, there was no stopping 😅.

Warnings: mention of death, violence, and murder, fluff, angst and, yeah, I got a bit horny at the end, so SMUT, 18+, loss of virginity, sad ending. I am sorry, lately I am not good at happy endings.

Word Count: 7,904

Part 2 Good wife

You were sitting by the window in your room, gazing out at the courtyard. The entire palace buzzed around reminding you a bustling anthill. It had been today as your father had announced your betrothal, and the wedding was swiftly arranged to take place within a week. Such haste was quite out of the ordinary, but there was a compelling reason behind it. Wessex was bracing itself for an impending war. Harald Bloodhair, the recently emerged Danish warlord, was gathering his forces near the borders. Each passing day new warriors were joining him, and his army already exceeded thousand men. Alfred was eager to confront him before his army grew even stronger, but he needed allies. Wessex alone couldn’t bring up the sheer number of skilled and trained warriors necessary for the confrontation.

Lord Ethelwold, one of the wealthiest nobles in East Anglia, had long harboured intentions of marriage with you, but Alfred had thus far deemed him an unsuitable match for his youngest daughter. Lord Ethelwold was notorious for his lack of restrain when it came to drinking and whoring. He was arrogant, reckless, and rude, but he was wealthy, and he had men. His household troops alone numbered around three hundred men, but he could rise much more by rallying his vassals. The shift in circumstances had prompted a swift change in your father’s stance. The decision about your betrothal to Lord Ethelwold had been taken without hesitation and the revelation of it reached you on the very day it was announced in the church—namely, today.

You heard a gentle cough from behind, and a familiar voice greeted you “Good evening, Lady.”

Startled from your reverie, you turned your head slowly and discovered Sihtric standing there.

“I apologize if I have disturbed you. I simply wanted to inform you that I shall be on watch this night,” the soft yet resolute tone of your guardian angel’s voice brought a faint smile appear on your lips.

Sihtric had assumed the role of your bodyguard for the past two months shortly after Alfred's spies had confirmed the lingering rumours—namely, that Bloodhair had dispatched a bunch of warriors to Winchester with a cunning plan to abduct a hostage from the royal family. That was when you had first encountered Sihtric, one of Lord Uhtred’s most trusted warriors and a Dane himself. He had been appointed to ensure your safety, along with several other warriors sent by their respective lords at Alfred’s demand to provide protection for all members of the royal family. It was impossible not to notice the tall, robust, and muscular warrior with his black, curly hair braided on the top, but falling to his shoulders in the back. His strong jawline, scars tracing his forehead and right cheek and the intensity in his big, mismatched eyes created an indelible impression. A captivating mixture of confidence, calmness and strength emanated from him. You caught yourself thinking that if your life were indeed under genuine threat, you would undoubtedly prefer him by your side. There was an undeniable aura of reassurance surrounding him as he bowed and extended his greeting in that gentle yet unwavering voice of his: “My, Lady, the honour is mine.”

From that day onward, you were consistently accompanied by at least one of the guards, and during the night a sentry always stood watch by your chamber’s door.

To say the least, you found little enjoyment in this new arrangement. It was a nuisance and an additional burden, further restricting your already circumscribed life as a princess. You were not allowed to move around freely anymore. The guards frequently denied your requests to visit certain places if they deemed this too dangerous. While it was undoubtedly much easier to ensure your safety within the secure walls of the palace, this had inadvertently made you a prisoner in your own home. To you the guards were simply your prison warders, with one strange exception – Sihtric.

The calm and composed Dane appeared to be the only one to understand how you felt practically locked up in the palace. You quickly noticed that the other guards and even the servants regarded him with suspicion, sometimes even with feud. However, it seemed not to bother the young warrior who did not let his demeanor falter at the strange and suspicious glances others were casting at him. You were curious beyond borders about him, particularly since you had never seen a Danish warrior before. Yet you couldn’t deny that he had somewhat intimidating effect on you, especially considering all the different tales you had heard about Danes and their heathen ways. You had expected him to be harsh, surly, perhaps ill-tempered, or even rude and insolent. Instead, you found yourself profoundly taken aback by his gentle, respectful and humble comportment in your presence.

It was Sihtric who willingly joined you on your journey to your cherished spot by the river, where you enjoyed reading while he patiently leaned against a tree, waiting. He didn’t object when you desired to gather flowers from the meadow, and what was even more important, he agreed when you asked him to accompany you to the small orphanage maintained by the Convent of St. Cuthbert’s Sisters. This was a place you used to visit quite often before. You went there to see the children, to read something to them, to play and sing with them. This was a part of your life you were absolutely unwilling to give up. The children's bright eyes would light up upon your arrival, and their fondness for you was evident as they clung to your dress and hands, eagerly awaiting the small toys you always brought or the captivating tales you told them. It was something that filled you with deep joy as you felt needed and loved.

All your other guards had staunchly opposed your visits. The narrow street leading to the orphanage was obscured by barrels, hay bales, and other stuff. It was hidden from the sight of the patrolling guards overseeing the marketplace and the entrance to the palace. It was a perfect place for an ambush, they had explained to you, when you tried to insist. Yet, you kept asking, hoping that someone would consent to your heartfelt request. Then it was finally Sihtric’s turn to accompany you from the church to the palace and you silently prayed that he would understand you as he had done already before.

“There’s an orphanage just around the corner behind the church. It would mean a great deal to me if you would accompany me there,” you asked with a slightly trembling voice as this was apparently your last chance.

“An orphanage? The Lady wishes to visit an orphanage?” Sihtric's gaze held a mixture of surprise and inquiry, his raised eyebrows signalling his astonishment at your request.

“Yes, please. Would you come with me?” there was something in your voice that drew Sihtric’s attention–the pleading tone, suggesting how important it was for you. Curiosity piqued him as he wondered why a princess would want to visit an orphanage, so he nodded and followed you to the narrow street.

You spent what felt like two or more hours there. The children's joy at your presence was palpable, and you couldn't bring yourself to depart earlier. You had brought two small wooden toys – a horse and a warrior and you played with the children and told them stories about how knights in shiny armour fought dragons and rescued princesses in the past days. They were dirty, their clothes nothing more than rags, but that did not stop you from embracing them and cradling the smallest among them on your lap.

You laughed with them and sang with them and when it was finally time to leave, tears shimmered in your eyes. The sisters were doing their best to provide the children with shelter and meal, but there was never enough silver for that. To ease their burden, you contributed as much as you could spare. One might assume that being a princess meant being rich, but in truth you did not have your own silver and needed to seek your father’s approval for any expenditure.

Throughout your visit, Sihtric leaned against the door frame, his gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that, at times, made you slightly uncomfortable. However, you were deeply grateful that he had granted you this moment of joy.

“That was very kind of you,” you thanked him as you both returned to the palace and ascended toward your quarters.

Sihtric raised an eyebrow, a touch of surprise in his gaze as he regarded you.

“You are the first among the guards who allowed me to go there,” you explained, “But I truly miss the children… and…” you hesitated unsure how to approach him with your next request, fearing he would reject it as too dangerous.

“Would you mind accompanying me to visit the children more often? You’ve seen them–you must understand…” you struggled to find the right words to explain the depth of your feelings, but you did not need to. Sihtric's gaze held an understanding that needed no words.

“Lady, I would be delighted to accompany you,” he nodded, his eyes filled with warmth. To your surprise he arranged for himself to be your companion on every Saturday and Sunday, attending the morning sermons and thereafter visiting the orphanage.

Following another Sunday morning sermon, Sihtric walked alongside you as you turned onto the narrow street behind the church. You should have known that something was wrong from the very first steps—the children's usually audible voices were conspicuously absent today, but even if you were oblivious of the threat, Sihtric instantly noticed the change. Without warning his hand took hold of yours, slowing down your pace.

“Lady, we need to turn back,” he whispered urgently.

“What? Why? No, Sihtric, we can’t, you know…” you couldn’t finish your saying as suddenly a figure sprang before you from the rooftop of a nearby building with an unsheathed sword in the hand. Sihtric instantly shielded you, pulling behind him.

The man raised his sword and lunged towards Sihtric with a loud shout, but Sihtric had already anticipated his move. Stepping aside, he evaded the strike, causing the man’s sword to go down meeting no resistance. The man stumbled slightly, but that was enough for Sihtric. Seizing the moment and using his loss of balance, Sihtric’s hand closed around the man’s throat, while his other hand swiftly drew his dagger, fastened to his back. In a heartbeat the man dropped to his knees, chocking, his both hands pressed at his throat in a futile attempt to stop the gushing blood. You screamed in fear, and, in the next moment, more men materialised from the shadows of the small houses. Sihtric positioned himself again protectively in front of you.

“Lady, please remain behind me, I will protect you. Don’t run, as I don’t know how many men might be waiting further down the street,” his voice exuded a calm certainty that was both reassuring and astonishing. To your surprise you felt your breathing steadying and the dread that had already almost completely consumed you receding.

The subsequent events remained a fragmented blur in your memory. The men lunged at Sihtric, their weapons drawn, stabbing, chopping, and shouting incomprehensibly. It seemed to you that the time has slowed down as you watched how Sihtric danced around them parrying their attacks, kicking at them with his heavy boots, throwing them to the ground and chopping at them with his battle axe. In the blink of an eye, it was over. Sihtric turned to you, his face, armour, and hands stained with blood, as he took a step closer, concern etched into his features.

"Lady, are you unharmed? Are you injured?Please, speak to me!" he inquired, but you just stood there immobilized, eyes widened in sheer horror, gazing upon the lifeless forms strewn upon the street, blood pooling around them. It seemed to you that there was blood everywhere. You shivered, you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. An eerie chill coursed through your body, rendering you frozen, uncapable to move, consumed by an overwhelming sense of dread. You felt Sihtric grabbing your hand, and as you still did not show any reaction to him, his strong arms wrapped around your trembling shoulders, pulling you close to his chest.

“It is over now,” he murmured into your ear, his gentle voice nudging you back to reality, “You are safe, I promise, I will not let anything happen to you,” his soft voice slowly began to lift your paralysis, gradually rousing you from your frozen state. His rough fingers caressed your hair, anchoring you in the present moment.

“Look at me, lady! Please, look at me,” he cupped your face in his palms, lifting your head until your eyes connected, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks, and Sihtric’s embrace tightened, your face pressed against to his wide chest, as you started sobbing uncontrollably, your face buried in his armour.

“Hush, hush, my little princess, my love. Everything is going to be fine,” his words resonated in your consciousness, piercing through the fog of fear, and leaving a burning sensation in your mind as you tried to grasp their meaning. You don’t know for how long you were standing there before you finally regained control over your sobs and became fully aware of your surroundings. Sihtric still held you in his strong arms, soothingly stroking your hair, whispering comforting words in your ear. Suddenly, a profound sense of safety enveloped you, and as your tear-streaked face turned to meet his gaze, a faint smile tugged at your lips before your legs gave way and you lost your consciousness.

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It all had happened exactly two days ago. It is remarkable how swiftly everything can be turned upside down. A mere day ago, you were hilarious, brimming with joy and gratitude to the fate that had brought Sihtric into your life. You were sure that without him, you wouldn’t have survived the assault. Yet, now, as you sat by your window, observing the people busying around the yard below, you wished that the kidnappers had succeeded. Anything seemed better than the prospect of marrying Ethelwold, but there was nothing you could do about it.

“Thank you, Sihtric,” you responded quietly and turned away in an attempt to hide your tears, but it was too late. Sihtric had already noticed you had been crying. His big, mismatched eyes filled with sympathy as he took a step closer.

“Lady, I regret deeply what happened. I’m sorry that you had to witness it. I assure you that you are safe now. I will not let anything happen to you,” Sihtric’s voice was filled with compassion and genuine care. His words were soft, laced with reassurance, and you found no reason to doubt him. After all, the young warrior had found a special place within your heart long before the dreadful incident.

Initially it was pure curiosity, that made you feel drawn to him, evolving into a genuine awe, that eventually grew into tender affection and sweet longing. The shift happened gradually as the thoughtful and quite warrior slowly opened to you, revealing different layers of his personality – the loyalty, the warmth, the kindness, all concealed behind the rugged exterior. The realisation of your own feelings for the handsome young Dane came even more slowly. You had never felt anything like this before and not to forget – you were a princess. Falling in love with a Dane, heathen and warrior, was out of question for you. But the longer you tried to deny your feelings, the stronger they grew with each passing day. Still, you successfully managed to suppress them until that dreadful assault in the narrow street. You did not know what unsettled you more – the close encounter with death or the emotional surge that overtook you as Sihtric’s strong arms enveloped you, pressing to his chest and caressing your hair. All you wished for was to prolong that moment indefinitely, to remain cradled within Sihtric’s embrace, melt into it, and let the world around you fade away. The realisation that most probably this will never happen again as you were going to be married in a week time, made your heart ache in almost physical, tangible pain.

“Oh, Sihtric, please! There’s truly no need for you to apologise. I am immensely grateful for what you did. It’s me who should be apologising to you for my foolishness, for doubting that the threat was real. If I hadn’t insisted on visiting the orphanage, if I had remained within the palace, none of this would have happened,” your voice was barely audible as you spoke.

You wanted to scream, to beg him to save you once again, to take you away from this palace and your wretched life as a princess and now even worse – as a peace cow to be married away to the most disgusting man you have ever seen. Yet, you remained silent as you knew that it was not in his power to free you from your destiny.

You continued to gaze out the window, ignoring Sihtric, who observed you with a perplexed expression. Something was certainly wrong; he just couldn’t figure out what it was. First seeing your sad and teared eyes, he thought you must be still startled by the events the day before. However, your composed response hinted him that something else had happened in between.

Initially, when Sihtric was assigned the role of a bodyguard for Alfred’s daughter, he was far from being pleased. He was a warrior and not a babysitter. Nonetheless, Uhtred insisted and Sihtric presented himself before Alfred, hoping that the king might reject him anyway. Much to his astonishment, that did not happen. Perhaps, Alfred deemed it prudent to have a Dane among the guards of his daughter, as it was reasonable to expect that the assaulters will probably be Danes as well. This however did not make the others trust or even like Sihtric. Not that this surprised him; he was used to that. What did surprise him was your non-judgemental attitude. He had expected you to despise him, even to hate him. After all, what else could he anticipate from a princess brought up in a place where everybody seemed to hate Danes. His awe knew no bounds when you greeted him on that very first day with a warm and genuine smile.

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity and nothing in your behaviour made him feel despised or unwanted. Quite the opposite. Swiftly, he found himself growing fond of you – his little princess, as he called you in his thoughts. You were cheerful, full of energy and treated everybody around you with equal warmth and kindness. Your liveliness was contagious, and Sihtric noticed how his mood inexplicably lifted in your presence. Your genuine interest in him, without a hint of suspicion or prejudice, touched a chord within him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and for the first time, he felt at ease sharing with someone fragments of his life. Your unpretentious and unburdened smile was the last thing that lingered in his mind before he drifted off to sleep each night. Sihtric thought you beautiful, not only in your physical appearance, but in the very essence of your being. Beautiful and utterly unreachable.

The first time Sihtric consciously noticed that his affection had evolved into something more profound and powerful was during your visit to the orphanage. Standing in the doorway, he leaned against the frame, watching you playing with the children. A profound and unexplainable warmth filled his heart, captivating him. His gaze remained locked on you, as if he were drinking in the aura of the love and tenderness that radiated from your being. In that moment, a realisation struck him that he would willingly do anything to witness your unbridled happiness. But even then, he managed to dismiss the feeling as being foolish, naïve, and impossible. Falling in love with a princess appeared to him as the most ridiculous thing he could imagine.

The moment he knew he had utterly lost his inner struggle, when he could no longer deny the intensity of his love for you, occurred in the aftermath of that brief battle. The mere thought that you might be injured and hurt terrified him to the extent that all rationality left him. In that moment he completely forgot everything as he enfolded you in a protective embrace, drawing you close to his chest, cradling and soothing you. The memory of that moment remained etched in his mind. The sensation of oblivion enveloped him as he tenderly stroked your hair, breathed in your delicate aroma, and felt the velvety touch of your skin against his fingertips.

------------------------------------------------

“Your services will no longer be required after one more week,” Sihtric was caught by surprise by the sudden announcement from the chief guard. “The lady is soon to be wed and will depart for her husband’s estate.”

“The lady is to be married?” Sihtric repeated in surprise as the news slowly sank into his consciousness. His “little princess” was getting married. He had always known his feelings were impossible, a sheer madness beyond comprehensible, he was fully aware of the unlikelihood of them being reciprocated. However, he hadn’t anticipated this fairy tale to end so swiftly and abruptly.

“Perhaps it’s for the best. It was meant to end anyway. Better sooner than later, before the last remnants of my common sense have faded away,” he thought to himself, clenching his fists tightly, his chuckles turning white under the strain.

The remaining week leading up to the wedding passed for Sihtric in somewhat like an indistinct haze. He found no opportunity to speak to you or even to see you. The walks by the riverside had ceased, no more flower-picking in the meadow, not even strolls within the garden. You remained within the palace, always surrounded by attendants, your mother – the queen herself – a constant presence at your side, willing to discuss every single detail of the upcoming wedding, be it the attire, jewellery, floral arrangements, or the feast. Oddly, Sihtric couldn't help but think that this was perhaps a blessing in disguise. What could he possibly say to you? Confess his imprudent feelings and elicit a pitying smile? That wasn't what he wanted. The only sensible thing to do was to maintain distance and to leave the palace as soon as possible, before his emotions would grow stronger, as they were already inflicting considerable pain.

Finally, all was settled. With Alfred’s consent Sihtric was set to depart on the morrow - the day before the wedding. In truth Sihtric was relieved, as he was glad, he would not have to watch the ceremony. His meager belongings were packed neatly in a saddlebag, resting upon a chair within his modest room at the tavern. He had not been given a room in the palace and had stayed at the tavern his lodging paid by the king. He was ready to retire for the night; his leather armour draped across a chair, his weapons arranged upon the table. It was in this moment that an unexpected knock echoed through the room, startling Sihtric. He hesitated as he was not expecting anybody at such a late hour. The knock repeated, prompting him to pull the latch and swing the door open with an annoyed look on his face, only to be met by a silhouette hidden beneath a dark cape.

“What the hell…” he exclaimed in astonishment, his hand instinctively reaching for his dagger on his back, only to discover it was not there this time, laying on the table amid his other weapons.

“May I come in?” the voice emanating from beneath the cape sent Sihtric's heart racing. It was a voice both familiar and cherished, a voice he had believed he might never hear again. Overwhelmed by disbelief, Sihtric took a step back, allowing the cloaked figure to enter his chamber, and then quietly closed the door behind.

“I heard you are departing,” the voice spoke with a hint of reproach, as two delicate hands took off the hood revealing the bearer of the voice, his “little princess”. To say that Sihtric was surprised would be an understatement. He stood frozen in disbelief, slowly shaking his head as if attempting to dispel a dream, an impossible illusion conjured by his own fevered mind. Your eyes studied Sihtric, registering that he was shirtless and barefoot, clad only in his breeches. You swallowed hard as your eyes traced the contours of his bare chest. Awkwardness hung heavily in the air, a palpable silence enveloping the room as neither of you moved or uttered a word. Regret, like an unwelcome visitor, began to creep into your thoughts. What were you even doing here? A royal daughter, a princess of Wessex, standing alone in the presence of a half-dressed man – a Dane and a heathen, no less.

The sheer absurdity of the situation struck you, making you shiver in embarrassment under the cape.

"I've been dismissed, my lady. With your father's approval, I am returning to Cochem," Sihtric finally broke the silence, his voice striving to remain casual, though it was almost impossible.

“You didn’t even wish to bid me farewell?” your eyes continued scanning Sihtric’s appearance, seeking something within his demeanour, a concealed sign, any trace that would hint to you, that your impulsive decision to come here might not be as foolish as your common sense suggested. Your gaze lingered on his arms, recalling how they had embraced you, before moving to his hands. You could almost feel the tender pressure of his fingers against your skin, his touch caressing your cheek. There had been an undeniable gentleness in his actions, a softness and affection woven into his words. Or had you just imagined it all? You were embarrassed and angry at yourself. There was no rational explanation for your presence here; you were merely making a complete fool of yourself.

“You were preoccupied with wedding preparations, my lady. And besides, who am I to encroach upon your precious time? I apologise if I have offended you; that was never my intent. I merely did not wish to bother you,” it took Sihtric all his inner strength to maintain his composure and stay calm. Yet there was something in his voice that caught your attention.

“No, no! No offence taken! It’s just… I wanted to express my gratitude once more for saving my life,” you stumbled over your words, your voice growing almost inaudible as you added, “And I won’t forget what you said to me afterward.”

Sihtric raised his eyebrow, well aware of what he had said to you. He had been berating and cursing himself for his impulsive words ever since they left his lips. He had felt relieved as it seemed that you had been too shocked at that moment to register his words, but now it was evident that they had not gone unnoticed. Sihtric’s expression changed instantly, his gaze dropping to the floor in an attempt to escape the contact with your eyes, but not fast enough as you caught a glimpse of the mingled pain and humiliation shadowing his features.

“Lady, please believe me. I never intended to be disrespectful toward you,” Sihtric’s voice trembled with emotion as he continued to avoid direct eye contact with you, “Please forgive me if my words, spoken in a moment of deep concern for your safety, made you feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no! No, they didn’t. I just needed to … I wanted to ask if you truly meant what you said,” your heart raced within your chest as you took a hesitant step closer, reaching out to clasp Sihtric's hand, as though afraid he might vanish before providing the answer you so desperately sought.

“Lady, please don’t,” Sihtric’s voice wavered as he tried to withdraw his hand, a mixture of apprehension and longing in his eyes.

“Do what?”

“Don’t make me say something, I’ll regret for the rest of my days, even if it’s true.”

“Sihtric, I am losing my mind all this week, thinking that it all was merely a cruel creation of my imagination,” your own audacity startled you. You were almost confessing your feelings to a near stranger, a man you hardly knew and would likely never see again.

“My little princess, my love,” Sihtric slowly repeated the words with a heavy sigh, his gaze finally lifting to meet yours, “I meant every single word, my lady. There’s no escape for me. Regardless of where I go or what happens to me, I will always love you,” the pain laced in Sihtric’s voice was palpable. He loved you, knowing that there was no future for you both. Worlds separated you – a Saxon princess destined to wed an East Anglian nobleman, and him - an outsider, a despised Dane, a heathen, and a warrior with nothing to offer apart from life in perpetual danger and suspense. Despite it all, he found himself incapable of tearing his gaze away from you. Unconsciously, his fingers entwined with yours as you still hadn’t let go of his hand, and his forehead drew near slowly touching yours.

The world spun around you, the weight of Sihtric’s words finally sinking in, a burning sensation coursing through you, just like the first time you heard them. He loved you. It was neither a dream, not a cruel gameplay of your overheated mind. He loved you. In this very moment it was all that mattered. Those few words had changed your entire universe.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned in and pressed your lips to Sihtric's. The kiss was tentative, your inexperience evident in the gentle brush of your lips against his, but it made all the last remnants of common-sense crumble in Sihtric’s mind as he responded with a fervour of a starving man savouring a long-awaited feast. His lips and tongue melded with yours, an intoxicating dance of desire and need. Sihtric’s kiss was soft, yet demanding, his lips brushing, sucking, and gently biting yours with ravenous eagerness and passion, leaving you breathless. Your head was spinning, and dizziness enveloped you as you yielded to his passion. You closed your eyes and your lips parted in a soft moan against his mouth. Sihtric's tongue slipped into your mouth, a hungry exploration that set your heart racing. His hands found your waist, drawing you closer, the heat of his touch searing through your skin. The kiss was an inferno of love, warmth, and raw emotion that left you gasping for air, lost in a realm of sensation you had never experienced before, and you wished for it to continue indefinitely.

Reality crashed upon Sihtric like a tidal wave, jolting him from the whirlwind of desire. With an abrupt motion, he broke the kiss, pulling away from you. His hand cupped your chin, his forehead resting against yours as he fought to regain his composure.

“Princess, this is madness,” his voice trembled, his eyes shut, his breath ragged. “Please, don’t do this to me. Do not awaken hope when there is none. You must leave, now, before your absence is discovered.”

Your gaze remained locked on him, your heart pounding, unable to say anything or even gather your thoughts from the intensity of emotions that swirled through you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand grazing his cheek, your thumb tracing the contours of his skin. Being this close to him made you shiver.

“I can’t…, I don’t want to,” you whispered, your voice a delicate plea. “Sihtric, please… This is my last night of my already so limited freedom, and I want to spend it with you. I want you to be the first man to touch me, to make love to me. Please, don’t reject me.”

There it was, laid bare before him, the true reason you had come, the decision you had made, dismissed and taken again during the last sleepless nights until it had transformed in firm resolve.

Your life had always been predetermined and dictated by obligations and duty; your choices limited by being a king’s daughter. You had accepted that. You knew that the alliance with Lord Ethelwold was necessary for Wessex to stand up against the Danes and you were indeed willing to bring that sacrifice by marrying him. However, there was one decision in your life that you were not willing to allow to be taken from you. And that was the reason you had come, driven by a fervent hope that the man you had irrevocably fallen in love with might feel the same way.

Slowly you untied your cape and let it drop to the floor, your gaze locked with Sihtric’s. His pupils grew wider, and his breath fastened as you placed your hands on his bare chest, letting your fingers travel down to his stomach in a tender brush. You hesitated a moment when your fingers reached his waist and the hem of his breaches and Sihtric quickly seized your hands and raised them to his mouth, placing gentle kisses on your palms.

“Princess, please, stop before it’s too late,” Sihtric leaned in closer and buried his face in your neck breathing in your scent, his fingers intertwining with yours “I am flattered, I truly am. But you don’t understand what you are asking from me.” Sihtric closed his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on your neck and then another one on your jaw, feeling painfully strained in his breeches. He desired you, no, he craved for you beyond imaginable. Your smell, your breath against his skin, your soft lips, and the feel of your body so close to him and yet so unreachable and forbidden drew him to madness. His mind told him to step back, to let go of you, but he couldn’t. With all his willpower he tried to suppress the urge to kiss you again, knowing that if he did, he probably wouldn’t be able to stop himself anymore.

“I am asking you to save me from misery and grant me the freedom of choice. I want to feel love and desire, even if that’s only for one single night. My future husband is far away from being a fairy tale prince. Can you imagine what will be my first night with him? I can, I am not that naïve as you think of me, Sihtric,” you pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, making Sihtric groan loudly, lust and desire consuming him.

Sihtric’s lips found yours and crushed against them with the same unsatiable hunger as before, setting your mind on fire. His hands moved down to your waist, holding you firmly pressed against his muscular body, and you were melting in his strong embrace, feeling a shiver going down your spine and your legs getting week and wobbly. He made a step forward pressing you against the door, his lips traveling down to your jaw and then further to you neck, placing greedy wet open-mouthed kisses on their way, while his hands started tugging the laces of your dress with fumbling fingers. You couldn’t help but smile in anticipation as you helped him to untie and unlace everything until the dress slid down your shoulders and dropped to the ground, revealing your naked upper body, and leaving you only with your ruffled silk underpants. Sihtric’s eyes studied your body for a moment, drinking in all the small details, lines, and curves and then his lips were back on your neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, placing soft gentle kisses down to your breasts, licking and sucking gently at your hard aroused nipples. A strange burning sensation settled in your lower body and slowly consumed you, blurring your mind and vision, making you whine in pleasure your fingers trailing Sihtric’s back.

“Princess, are you sure, you want this?” Sihtric’s hoarse voice reached through your dizzied mind. You wanted to say something, but not a sound came out of your dry throat, overpowered by the overwhelming sensation of Sihtric’s touch on your body you just moaned tangling your fingers in his hair.

“Say it! I need to hear it,” Sihtric demanded, whispering in your ear as his hands slowly trailed down to your waist and started untangling the lace that was holding your underpants.

“Yes, I want it. I need it. I want you,” you finally managed to form the words, tugging harder at his hair. Your answer sounded like a desperate plea. You were already flying from the touch of his lips and hands on your body and were eager for more. You wanted him. You burned for him. You loved him and trusted him. A lustful smile curled on your lips, hearing Sihtric groan as he kneeled before you, pulling down your legs the last remaining peace of clothe covering you and revealing you completely naked before him.

“My princess, my sweet little princess, you are so breath-taking beautiful. This must be a dream, but I don’t want to wake from it,” he murmured against your skin pressing his nose to your cunt, breathing in your smell, and placing a soft kiss on it. Waves of heat washed all over your body. You had never felt anything comparable to this before.

Sihtric rose to his feet and lifted you in his strong arms with no effort at all. He cradled you to his chest and carried to his bed, placing you gently down and positioning himself beside you, his hand touching your cheek and turning your head to face him.

“If you change your mind, princess, if you want me to stop, just say it. You can stop me anytime. This is all about you tonight. You are in charge, don’t forget it,” Sihtric said quietly, but seriously. “Do you understand? Tell me!” he insisted, locking his gaze with yours.

“Yes, I do. I trust you,” you whispered back, cupping his face with both hands and leaning closer to kiss him. You started by moving your lips gently along his and in the very moment Sihtric’s lips parted as he answered your kiss, your tongue slid into his mouth. Eager to show him what a good learner you are, you licked hungrily into his mouth, your tongue finding his, curling around it, sucking at it, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you. Sihtric kissed you back with the same passion, setting the world around you in spiralling motion again. He broke the kiss, earning a disappointing whimper from you, a lustful smile on his lips.

“I want to show you something, my love,” he purred in your ear, moving his body over yours, parting your legs and positioning himself between your thighs. His mouth started travelling down your neck to your breasts and further down to your stomach, placing soft kisses all over your body on its way. He did not stop there, his body moved further down between your legs, his mouth continuing to place soft kisses on its way now reaching your inner thigh. You stiffened from the unfamiliar sensation that filled you.

“Relax, my little princess. You will enjoy it, believe me,” Sihtric murmured, his lips moving closer and closer to your core until his wet tongue slid over your clit, licking further through you folds. You moaned heavily, digging your nails in the bedsheets, grabbing them with full force and arching your back off the mattress in obscene pleasure, as Sihtric continued devouring you, his tongue circling your clit, licking and sucking it. His soft moans against your core let you know he was enjoying it as much as you did. Your hips started to move frantically, uncontrollably against his tongue, your climax building up quickly and just as you thought there can’t be any rise in the pleasure washing over you, you felt Sihtric pushing a finger inside you.

“Oh my God!” you whimpered.

“Does it feel good, my princess?” Sihtric murmured.

“God! Sihtric! It feels divine,” you cried out as he continued to move his finger in and out of you, his tongue never leaving your clit. It was the last bit you needed to reach your peak. It washed over you in an overwhelming wave, making you cry out Sihtric’s name, pure bliss pulsing through your veins. Sihtric’s hands took hold of your hips, holding you steady in the place, his tongue continuing licking and sucking at your already over sensitive pearl. You wanted to escape him, to move away from his tongue, but he did not let you, holding you firmly until you surrendered yourself to him feeling another wave of pleasure building up and washing over you even more intense as the first one.

“Common, little princess, you can make it one more time for me. You can be loud. Don’t be afraid. I adore those wonderful sounds you make,” Sihtric hummed, pushing two fingers deep inside you and continuing to fuck you slowly with his fingers his mouth never letting go of your pussy. And you came again against his tongue and fingers, with your lips parted as you screamed out your pleasure.

“I think you are ready now. I am so sorry. It might hurt, my love, but I will be gentle,” Sihtric breathed in your ear, undoing his breeches, releasing at last his stone hard cock and placing it at your entrance.

“Princess, do you want me to?” he asked.

“Yes, Sihtric! Yes! I want to. Please, take me,” you begged. Receiving your permission Sihtric started to push slowly inside you, his thumb circling your clit. It hurt, he was so big, stretching you painfully. You buried your fingers in the bedsheets, trying to hide the pain, not wanting him to notice, but a pained whimper escaped your lips. Sihtric stopped immediately.

“Do you want me to stop? Princess, look at me! Just tell me to stop, and I will,” his voice so full of genuine concern made you want him even more. You craved for him and wanted to pleasure him just as he did it for you just before. You shook your head.

“No, I want you. Just give me a moment to adjust,” you pleaded and Sihtric leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing gently against yours.

“I love you, my little princess. I love you with all my heart. I want you to know that,” he whispered, as his lips descended on your nipples, sucking gentle at them, and setting you on fire again.

“Sihtric, take me! Don’t hold back. I need you! You are the best, that could ever happen to me,” you murmured, placing your hands on his hips and trying to pull him towards you.

Sihtric resumed his movement pushing further inside you and you screamed out shortly as you felt him forcing into you until the very end of his length, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“Husch, my love. That’s it, you have me,” Sihtric whispered kissing away your tears as you felt something warm dripping down your thigh. Before you even managed to register what had happened, he pulled out and pushed slowly back again into you, and then again and again, his pace slow and gentle in the beginning, but fastening with every thrust, transforming still lingering pain into absolute, indescribable pleasure as his length stretched and filled you, making you mewl and whine under the movements of his hips against yours. Your nails were digging into Sihtric’s back as you tried to hold onto him, and your hips started to move against his making him thrust even deeper into you.

“You take me so good,” Sihtric groaned, continuing his movements, his breath getting faster, “You are perfect, just made for me and I love you so much!” he murmured softly against your mouth, kissing you jerky.

“Oh my God, Sihtric! It feels so good! You feel so good!” you breathed out, wanting to praise him, to let him know how good he was to you, your breath getting faster and shallower with each trust, your obscure moans filling the room and mingling with Sihtric’s grunts.

“Cum for me, little princess. I want you to cum on my cock, screaming my name.” Sihtric hissed, locking his gaze with yours, “Let yourself fly! I am holding you,” his hips kept rutting against yours, his breath heavy and unsteady, being close to his own high. He wetted his thumb with his tongue and moved it to your clit, rubbing it gently and with that last touch he pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm, the fourth and the most intense in this night, hit you like a heavy storm. You felt your inner walls clench around Sihtric’s cock as the waves of pleasure and relief washed over you, making your body shake and tremble against his as you came moaning loudly, arching your back and crying out his name in pure bliss. Sihtric continued to fuck you slowly through your orgasm, letting you savour each and every wave of pleasure, his eyes drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath him.

“You are so good to me. I am so close, my love,” he whispered, “I will not cum inside you if you do not want to,” he whispered his nose nuzzling at your neck.

“Sihtric! My love! I want you, all of you, everything of you,” you moaned grabbing his hips and pushing yourself against him. This was all he needed, a few more thrusts and he came instantly with a loud growl, spilling himself deep inside you, pressing you into the mattress with his weight as he collapsed over you, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You stayed so for a while, your arms around him, your fingers brushing through his hair, his lips placing soft kisses on you neck and shoulder. With a heavy sigh Sihtric pulled out and laid beside you, his arms still around your waist, pulling you closer to him, cradling you in the crook of his body.

“Stay with me,” he purred into your ear, his voice dripping with longing “I know this is madness, princess. This entire night is a whirlwind of madness.”

“Sihtric, I can’t,” you replied, your voice a fragile whisper. “I love you, and that will never change. But I can’t. My father… Wessex … we need that alliance,” your heart ached at these words.

“I love you too, my little princess,” Sihtric’s voice was hoarse. “There will never be another in my life. I am all yours, and I will be waiting for you,” the seriousness and confidence in Sihtric’s voice made you shiver. You turned to face him, your lips trembling as they met his in a tender kiss.

“I can’t ask that from you,” you whispered, cupping his cheek.

“That’s not just a promise; it’s a certainty, my love,” Sihtric's arms enveloped you in a tight embrace. “I will wait for you, and whether in this life or the next, you will be mine.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you rested against his strong chest, feeling the truth of his words echoing in your mind.

Part 2 Good wife

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric fic #tlk #the last kingdom #tlk fic #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fanfic #sihtric fanfic #tlk fanfic

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phenomenal1500 · 1 year

Text

~In The Gods' Favor~

Masterlist

A/N: This is a combined request asked by three anons on Tumblr. I felt like these requests could fit together perfectly and I hope you all like it!

Summary: Reader is stuck in an arranged marriage with Harald and sees his scars by the Pechenegs for the first time.

Timeline: Season 2, after the Pechenegs.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Fem!Reader Warning: Smut, breeding kink, arranged marriage.

Sitting in the gorgeously decorated great hall in Kattegat, Y/N was watching the Norsemen feasting and celebrating because of her marriage with the new king of Norway. However, everything didn't sit right with her.

How could other people be happy at such a time but her?

She knew who she married. King Harald had made sure to meet and spend time with her before their marriage so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed marrying a stranger, but happiness? That she couldn't express at this hour.

Perhaps it was because she was closed off to new opportunities or perhaps because she had built a wall so she didn't have to let him in, but she simply couldn't be excited even though she had to admit the norseman was besides attractive also very lovely and caring.

"You're doing alright, sæta?" King Harald slowly dropped himself beside her on the small bench that she had been sitting on all evening now.

"I think I'm doing fairly well." She nodded and looked back at the exciting and hopeful crowd again.

"We're giving them hope." He whispered, laying his large hand on her lower back. "We must think about that."

"I've never been much of a leader." She admitted, for the first time not backing away or pushing his hand away either. Sooner or later things had to get more heated between the two so a simple loving touch didn't bother her so much anymore. "These people.. they aren't my people."

"After today they are, love." He slowly rubbed her back and tried to make her look at him. "They're as much my people as they are yours."

"Out of everyone, why me?" She finally pulled her eyes off the crowd and back to her husband.

"You seemed sweet and very quick-witted." He smiled. "And from the moment they introduced you, I knew you would stand by me proudly."

"I'm not standing anywhere yet." She may have already been royal before they married, but since she was the youngest of her sisters, she had never been taught how to be a proper queen. She didn't trust herself to lead a country yet.

"You will soon." He gently lifted her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a soft kiss. "Trust me when I say you were born for this."

"I trust you." She slowly nodded and had a slight blush on her cheeks.

"That's all that matters." He gently lifted her chin with his index finger before he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his as he pulled her in for a slow passionate kiss.

"King Harald." She panted softly after she pulled away, cheeks even redder.

"Not the right moment?" He stroked her hair, letting her decide for herself if she wanted to continue the kiss. He wasn't going to force her into anything. That wasn't like him. If the kiss wasn't what she wanted, Harald would apologize right away.

"No, it's not that." She cleared her throat nervously, but instantly relaxed in his touch. "However, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?"

"Is that really what you wish for, Y/N?" He whispered, cupping her face with his hands.

"I think so." She was a bit uncertain, but she preferred some alone time with the man anyway. The crowd only made her feel more pressured to show forced love to him, and if the traditions were true, after the wedding celebrations six people would accompany them to their bridal bed and she would rather experience things alone with him before that.

"Come on then, sæta." He got up and held out his hand which she took without any hesitation.

She wanted to be out of there badly and especially if it meant exploring her feelings with him before anyone would witness it.

She couldn't imagine how forced and hurried that would be like.

The king brought her to their now shared bedroom, helping her inside before he closed and locked the door so no one could get in and harm them. "You're certain about this my queen?" He questioned again, just to reassure himself that she wanted this too and he wasn't forcing her into anything. He had been raised to respect and care for his women, no matter if it was an arranged marriage and they had to by tradition.

For him and a lot of other Norsemen, unlike the men from England, it was important both sides wanted this.

"Yes, I'm sure of my decision, Harald." She smiled a little, feeling soothed by the way he made sure she was okay with such a thing at all times.

"Come over here, gorgeous~." He returned the sweet smile and watched the woman obey him, carefully closing the gap between them herself now.

Right when she took the last step towards him, she could feel his warm lips on hers again. Tongue playfully exploring her mouth, he sneaked his arms around her thighs and picked her up that way, holding her close to him.

She had to admit it made her feel feelings she never thought she was capable of feeling and here she was, experiencing them with a man she actually started to desire.

"My king~?" She blushed and cupped his face, staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust.

"You're allowed to only say my name, Ketta. You are my wife, not an unknown person to me." He spoke against her lips softly and she nodded.

"Harald~?" She licked her lips slowly to taste more of him when he carefully laid her down on her back.

"What is it?" He made sure to caress every inch of her body, starting with kissing her shoulders as he unlaced the laces of her dress located between her breasts. It instantly made her feel flustered, but didn't stop him and he didn't stop either.

Lust was slowly taking over~ they needed each other badly.

"I desire you." She felt her heart speed up a bit when he took off her dress more with every kiss. It even doubled its speed when his hands and lips finally found her breasts, fingers trailing up and down her breasts before rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers and kissing the valley between them. It instantly caused a strange sensation in her body and she suddenly felt the wet heat worsen between her legs.

"I desire you too, ketta." He muttered against her soft skin, hands moving down to her sides and down to her hips as he pushed the fabric further down.

There she was, bare and open to him.

He had to admit it made his cock grow solid in his trousers right away when he saw her gorgeous body, but he was holding himself back and keeping himself calm.

He wasn't a quick-fuck type of guy, he wanted to treat her like the queen she was.

Despite how he felt about how beautiful she was, she herself was slightly anxious. Nobody had ever seen her without clothes, let alone this vulnerable too, and especially after he slowly spread her legs.

"All I'm asking of you is to loosen up and let me take care of her, sæta, that way it'll feel the best." He ran his fingers over her wet pussy lips to worship it gently and pulled his hand back again. He knew he had to be careful with her and that's why he needed her to relax for him.

"I'll try my best, Harald." She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip as he suddenly got on his knees in front of her. "What~ what are you doing?"

"It's okay, my love~." He reassured her as his lips touched her inner thigh, giving it sloppy wet kisses as he trailed his way up to the place that needed to be touched the most.... The place that was aching and begging for nobody but his touch.

"Please." She panted softly, letting the small beg roll of her tongue before she could stop herself. She honestly didn't really know what she was begging for, but it made him chuckle and before she knew it he was giving her clit a loving kiss too. Her chest immediately went up and down faster because of it and the pleasure that shocked through her body increased especially when he wrapped his lips around it and gently started to suck.

That brought her to Valhalla right away.

"Mmhmm~." Y/N arched her back, loving the new delightful feelings as he licked her up, giving her wet pussy long and slow licks before going back to sucking. "Harald~."

"I know, ketta." Harald growled, his hands stroking her inner thighs as he dove right back into her ocean. "I know it feels good." He spoke straight into her core, her whole body shivering because of it.

He needed her ready for him.

He needed this to feel good for her.

Lifting her legs and resting them over his shoulders, he licked her insides a little faster. He wanted her pretty pink pussy more than soaked and ready to take all of him and in no time her legs were already shaking.

He knew she was close, but unfortunately for his beautiful wife he wasn't going to make her cum so soon.

Harald pulled back, his beard covered in her juices, but he didn't care. His eyes landed on his wife again, her pretty eyes filled with lust and her cheeks having this cute red tone, she was so precious to him. "You prefer to have all of me?"

"Yes. I would love to have all of you." She smiled after she managed to get out of her stunned embarrassed state. This was all new to her and seeing him this shameless was unusual so of course it was normal she had to get used to the barefaced activities.

She slowly sat up though and actually managed to help her husband take off his armor before her eyes suddenly landed on the horrifying scars on his chest.

"What happened...?" She raised her hand and carefully outlined them with her fingers.

"It happened before I was crowned king of Norway. A man named Vitomir promised to pay me and my friend Leif a lot of treasure if we could deliver something to the emperor in Constantinople." He proudly explained while he unlaced his trousers. "But there were many Pecheneg camps settled along the shores we sailed."

"Pechenegs...?" Her eyes shot up to his deep hazel ones, staring at him with a slightly dropped jaw.

If there was anything she heard about Pechenegs, it was that they were extremely violent, well, they loved giving their enemies a tough time.

It was a wonder Harald was still alive.

"Yes, Pechenegs." He nodded and crawled on top of her in a hot way, his hands resting on either side of her head to keep his body weight off of her. "The cowards pierced my skin and string me up by my chest to see how much it would take for me to beg for mercy, but I never did."

Y/N listened closely to the king, but actually focused more on the ugly scars.

"Do they still hurt..?" She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss each scar.

"No, neither do my muscles." He kissed her forehead. "So do not worry about me. We're not here together and bare to worry about my injuries."

"I know." She suddenly blushed again when she felt his hard cock pressing against her thigh. She then wrapped her arms around his neck while her legs spread some more on their own to make room for him between them. "I can feel that we aren't here for that."

"You want it~?" He teased playfully, rubbing his tip between her wet folds which got her body squirming with need.

"Yes, please Harald." She begged, her eyes never leaving his as he grabbed her hand and brought it down to touch his perfectly curved cock.

God, he would be able to hit every spot so well.

"Guide him, love." He let her feel around his already rock hard cock, jerking him a little, and he loved the way she was too embarrassed to look down at what she was doing. It was adorable.

"Guide him...? I don't know how." She whispered, glaring down for a second as he gave her a hint, pressing his tip softly against her tight entrance.

It made her bite her lip, nervous at the sight of him so close to her dripping pussy.

"Right there, guide him in ketta." He whispered in her ear, kissing her neck afterwards while she slowly guided him inside of her tight entrance.

Harald could feel her body protest by the unfamiliar stretch, but he could also tell she wanted this so badly by the way her walls were clenching and throbbing around his big cock.

Slowly, he moved his hips forward into hers, feeling her pussy trying to adjust to just his thick tip as she closed her eyes.

"How are you feeling, love?"

"Wonderful, strange, a slight sting as well perhaps?" She named everything she was experiencing so he could understand what she was feeling and his large hands rubbed her hips to help her body relax again.

"It'll feel like Valhalla soon." He groaned deeply, his cock sinking deeper inside of her while she nuzzled his neck. "And the more we do this, sæta, the better it'll feel for her."

"Really~?" She smiled and gasped when Harald repositioned her hips to a different angle that made his cock go deeper.

"Yes~ and if the gods are in our favor, we might be granted lots of children as well." He wrapped one of his arms around her arched back to keep her that way while he thrusted a bit faster, the curve of his cock brushing against her spot perfectly over and over again.

"I'd love to have your children one day." She moaned softly, tightening her walls around him.

"I know you do." He smirked and reached down between their sweating bodies, fingertips stroking that small bundle of nerves to help send her over the edge. "It's alright, ketta~ let it go and give me what I want so I can give you my seed and have you bear my children."

Her body began to shake by his words and she couldn't suppress her loud moans anymore. This feeling, the feeling that was so right and wrong at the same time was just too enjoyable.

She and her body couldn't take much more of it honestly.

Inhaling deeply, the woman gave into the strange yet delightful feeling and finally the knot of pleasure exploded, the wonderful feelings coursing through her entire body as she clung to her husband.

"Harald~ oh gods." She smiled and panted, feeling his cock twitch against her spot before he came deep inside of her and coated her tight walls with his seed.

"You felt so perfect, my queen." He buried his face on the crook of her neck, leaving short loving kisses there while he slowly thrusted his cum deeper into her.

"So what now, my king?" She spoke softly not to interrupt the peace they both felt and he carefully pulled out.

"We go back to the feast and make sure we do this again at the end of our wedding~ hoping my seed will take soon." He smiled and gently helped her stand up so he could redress her.

#harald hardrada #harald sigurdsson #Harald #Harald sigurdsson x reader #vikings valhalla #vikings imagine #requests #smut #fluff #angst #slight breeding kink #arranged marriage #in the gods’ favor

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