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i2sunric · 6 months ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh)

PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sergeant as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?

WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, cream pie, angst if you squint (like, really squint), mentions of scars, pet names (sweetheart), i abused the world ‘would’. i know. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th August 2024

WC: 6k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey y @destinyhoon (oneshot) @indigoez @astratlantis @shuichi-sama @skaterhoon @simsungsims @hoonatic @sammie217 @hoonics @kissesforthefangirl @woorcve @laurradoesloveu @capri-cuntz @whateverhoon @woninluv @cyjhhyj @alienqbrain BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle

a/n: honestly, i don’t like it. the idea was good, the outcome not so, but let me know your thoughts. i literally don’t know old english, my knowledge comes from pride and prejudice and bridgerton, im sorry (i gave up by the end and it shows). please LIKE & REBLOG (or don’t, cause this is the worst fic i’ve ever written lol)

You hadn’t realised just how drastically your life could change overnight until you woke up to the news that your father, the ever so powerful king of the North realm, had died in war.

Soon, your teachers were making you learn about strategies and alliances, not about history anymore, your legions kneeled before you, ready to be at your service.

You had to watch your mother, the woman you looked up to, being consumed by the grief of her dead husband until the grim reaper decided to make them reunite.

Leaving you all alone. Helpless, bearing a burden so heavy it crashed your shoulders.

In just the span of a month you found yourself leading a kingdom through war, sending hundreds of warriors to their death sentence.

The crown weighed significantly on your head, your desk was full of scrambled letters and quills dripping ink, and if it wasn’t for your most-trusted maid, Ella, you would’ve certainly already died of hunger, leaving your people without a ruler.

Fortunately, the same day of your coronation, the first day of you being a queen was also the first day of a young sergeant.

He was the youngest of all, just like you being the youngest of the monarchs, and was leading the loyal legion.

Doing a better job than you, you had to say. He was diligent, perfect in his tasks and polite whenever you interpellated him.

His name was Park Sunghoon, and it didn’t take much for you to nominate him as your personal royal guard.

He was an attractive man, barely a couple of years older than you but he indeed towered you by much.

Sunghoon’s face was sharp, with a defined jawline and hardly any trace of baby-fat left.

Despite his frail appearance, you knew he had defined muscles hidden under his white guard uniform, you had seen it.

Even if you were busy with your tight schedule, especially after your coronation, you still found the time to peek at him.

In the morning he’d train the royal legions, helping new warriors. In the afternoon, he would follow you through your travels around the realm, visiting villages and other castles.

The days you stayed at the castle he’d occupy his afternoons by doing some training alone and some evenings he would stand out of your bedroom to guard.

And Sunghoon? Well, he was as attracted to you as you were.

It always sent jolts of excitement whenever he was around you, walking you to your activities and always keeping an eye for possible harms.

Especially one day, when Ella ran towards him with a bucket full of water when he was guarding your bedroom “Sergeant!” She panted, “Please, would you be so kind to bring this into her majesty’s room? I need to get another one.”

Sunghoon was quick to nod “Of course.” He replied politely and took the heavy — for her, not so for him — bucket from her hands.

Ella sincerely thanked him and hurried away to complete her task while the young guard opened your bedroom door.

When his eyes raised to your figure, he saw you standing there… naked. Probably expecting your maid to enter and certainly not your personal guard.

Your hands quickly shot to cover your dignity, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of pink as you breathed “Dear lord.”

Had he been more reckless, he would’ve dropped the bucket, but he managed to keep his polite demeanour.

“My sincere apologies, my lady, I should’ve knocked.” He turned slightly to the side so as not to look at you, but still managed to peek from the corner of his eye.

“D-doesn’t matter..” You murmured, reaching for the nightgown on the chair of the desk and quickly slipping it on “I just didn’t expect it to be… you, sergeant.”

Sunghoon nodded, “Where do you want me to place this?” He asked, raising the container of water.

You stepped aside, hugging your arms like you were afraid your nightgown could reveal your body to him once more. Not like he would complain.

“Inside the tub would be great.” You replied, watching as he lifted the bucket and dropped the hot water in it.

Sunghoon dared to look at you only then, bowing his head slightly “I apologise again. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

You let out a small breath and offered him a warm smile. You were always so kind and thoughtful to everyone, it made him want to lock those who dared to criticise you in the dungeons and make them all perish.

“Worry not,” Your voice was gentle, like a ray of sunshine through the storm “I forgive you, after all, it was an accident.”

Sunghoon thought that if he ever had the chance to take a glimpse at your perfect, naked body, he would’ve taken it right away.

But he chose against letting you know and opted for a “Thank you, my queen.” He bowed, “Anything else you need for me?”

“No, thank you.” You said “You can go back to your duty.”

He nodded and headed to the door, hesitating for a second and then walked out.

The image of your naked body was hard to remove from his mind. Sergeant.

Your curves, your dips, the colour of your skin, your breasts and your pretty pussy… Sergeant?

He wondered what you would feel like if he touched you, tasted you— “Sergeant!”

The voice of one of the royal guards snapped Sunghoon out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat “Yes?”

“It’s my turn,” He said, his eyes blinking faintly “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, worry not.” Sunghoon nodded and gave his farewell to the guard before walking to his chamber.

Since you had labelled him worthy of being your personal knight, his bedroom was in the same wing as yours, unlike all the other knights in the legion that stayed in the West wing.

He entered his chamber and closed the door behind his back, the room was dark except for the moonlight shining from the window.

It was better that way, he enjoyed the natural light, rather than the artificial one from the candles that also smelled bad and spread smoke in the room.

Sunghoon sighed, quickly removing his uniform to put on some more comfortable clothes, some black pants and a white, sleeved shirt.

He dropped down on the bed, another quiet sigh leaving his lips.

He rested one of his arms behind his head while he played mindlessly with the laces of his shirt.

It was stronger than him, his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.

Your body.

Perhaps, it was that you were so modest, despite literally being the ruler of the kingdom, or it was the fact that you were literally his type.

But he was drawn to you, the same way a donkey was to the apple in front of him. Maybe not the best example, but you get it.

At the thought of your flushed face, he felt his pants growing tighter. At your plump and tender lips, he palmed himself to soothe his growing desire.

At the memory of your perky nipples and your breasts, his hand slipped inside his trousers until he pulled them down to his ankles.

Sunghoon knew he couldn’t be loud, but the soft whimpers and groans that left his lips weren’t contained.

He imagined it was your hand, the one providing him relief, that you were down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Oh yes, you’re so good.” He whispered, squeezing the base of his thick cock, it twitched.

The tip was angry red as he heavenly stroked it, never focusing on one place more than the other.

If it were you, would you lick his tip? Would you squeeze his balls and take him in your mouth?

Would you ever fit him all?

“Take my cock,” He groaned, thrusting his hips upward to fuck his fist “Take it like a good girl.”

He pressed two fingers on the tip of his length, edging himself “You like to tease, my lady?”

So many filthy scenes played in his mind, keeping him company as he felt the sweet sensation in his lower stomach.

“I’m so close, sweetheart.” He groaned, moving his hand so fast it almost hurt his wrist “You want it on your breasts? Of course.” He kept moving until he saw white, “Take it.”

He was left spent, dirty white all over his sheets as he tried to even his breath.

Sunghoon fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, and he woke up even better after you visited his dreams and showed him how much you wanted him.

…Too bad it wasn’t real, right?

𓆩♡𓆪

After your little and awkward interaction with Sunghoon, the previous evening, you decided to go find him during his late afternoon training.

You would’ve lied if you were to say it didn’t turn you on, the thought of being seen by him in such an intimate manner. But that, he mustn’t know.

He was wearing a black sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers of the same colour, a great contrast with his skin.

You quietly tip-toed, walking towards as he stroked in the air with the fencing sword.

His movements were calculated, precise and so mesmerising you hadn’t even realised you were right behind him until the blade stopped right beside your jugular.

You gulped “Good evening.” Sunghoon widened his eyes and quickly placed himself into a more polite position, removing the swords from your neck “I'm so sorry, my lady, I didn’t see you coming.”

You just smiled at him “You seem excellent at fencing.” You commented, your fingertips trailing the blade of the sword, careful not to cut yourself.

“Fencing is one of my favourite parts of training, my queen.” He replied, his tone serious.

You hummed “Is that so?” The way the sunset kissed his skin, how his hair was perfectly combed and matched with his fit looked straight out of the erotic novels you hid under your bed.

“I’ve always wanted to learn this type of art.” You informed him “Though, it would be too scandalous for a woman to do it, wouldn’t it?”

Sunghoon’s gaze was soft as he commented “There’s nothing scandalous in wanting to be able to defend yourself.” He threw you a french sword “Even if you have a whole legion before you.”

You swiftly caught it, circling around Sunghoon while he did the same.

“Nah ah,” He was quick to correct “Eyes on the enemy’s, never on the sword.” You diverted your gaze from the sword to his chocolate, warm eyes.

“Great,” Sunghoon praised. “You must study your enemy if you have the time, watch his body language.”

He stroked again and you barely missed it. A second time and you docked it.

At the third, you blocked it “You slightly blink your right eye when you strike.”

Sunghoon smiled proudly, “Yes, that’s right.” You squealed happily, making him slightly widen his eyes.

If it wasn’t the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Now, your strike isn’t bad, especially in second and third, but your position can be better.” He dropped his sword and walked behind you.

“Bend your knees.” He commanded and you obliged again, following his instructions “Your arm shouldn’t stay that far… tilt your elbow.”

“Your back is already straight,” His fingers trailed the laces of your corset, feeling your spine underneath them “But your chin should be tilted… like this.” He tipped your chin up with his index finger.

“How about how?” You whispered breathlessly, feeling the coldness of his skin against your burning one.

“Better, but not perfect.” Sunghoon replied and quickly put space between the two of you “Still, you’re one of my best students.”

You smiled happily and was about to reply when Ella called you from afar because dinner was being served.

You sighed “I must go.” You said, slightly hoping he would keep you with him.

However, obviously, he just nodded and bowed. “It has been a pleasure, my lady.”

As he watched you walk away, he hoped you hadn’t felt the proof of his desire pressed against your back when he fixed your position… the proof he had to fix before anyone could notice.

𓆩♡𓆪

Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallway as he made his way to your room. He wasn’t sure about the reason as to why you called him, given the fact that he was supposed to be patrolling the main gates, but it seemed clear when he noticed you had already sent the guard outside your room to rest.

He stood in front of your bedroom door, the hallway only dimly lit by the few candles on the walls.

There was something in his mind that told him he was still in time to turn his heels and simply ignore your late-night visit request, even if it would eventually get him in trouble.

Still, he aight and placed his hand on the doorknob, quietly opening your bedroom door and entering.

Out of precaution, he locked the door behind him and made a few steps towards you, nevertheless keeping some distance.

“My queen,” Sunghoon began, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His tone was quiet, almost concerned.

You were standing in front of the large window that gave you a nice view of the royal gardens, the moonlight illuminating the room as well as a few candles on the tables.

Despite the late hours, you were still wearing your pistachio green gown, your favourite one. The one that once belonged to your mother.

It gave you a sense of comfort, reminiscing the days where you would drown in the fabric as you played queen and princess with her.

You deeply wished it was still a game.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” You replied, still giving him your back.

Sunghoon cleared his throat. Yes, he’d seen you in that gown the same morning, but now, in the intimacy of your chamber, it made him want to drop to his knees.

He made his way so that he was standing just a few steps behind you “Any particular reason for your lack of sleep?” He inquired.

You sighed softly. The moon made your doe eyes sparkle, as if they held the stars in them, “Perhaps, thoughts of the upcoming war.”

Sunghoon’s hands hitched to hold yours, to give you the comfort you needed without any paternal figure to rely on.

Still, he kept them clasped behind his back. The need to be respectful of your position was still in the front of his mind.

“It is not confirmed yet,” He tried to reassure “The other kingdoms may decide not to attack anymore.”

You tried to find reassurance in his words, but even if your people thought so, you weren’t naïve. “They killed my father,” You gulped. “It’s just a matter of time before they come at me next.”

And that was true, everytime you ever tried to close your eyes to seek some rest, your mind would play any possible scenario.

You being slayed, you being beheaded… your kingdom going in flames.

“No one will touch you,” His voice was soothing, like a hand pulling you out of deep water, preventing you from drowning “Not while I’m here.”

You finally allowed yourself to look at him, afraid that if you did it the second you heard the key of your room twisting you would’ve kissed him.

His hair was still perfectly in place, his forehead in sight. His porcelain-like skin glowing under the rays of the moon, caressing his cheeks.

You offered him a polite smile “You seem confident, sergeant.”

Sunghoon let the briefest of a smile form on his lips “Confidence comes with the job,” He said, softly “It is my duty to protect you, my queen, and I take that very seriously.

“What else does your job offer?” You asked, fully turning your body towards him “Apart from private fencing lessons and a twenty-four-seven guarding.”

His breath hitched slightly when you stood in front of him, he hadn’t even realised the vicinity you two had until he had to tilt his head down to stare at you. It would be so easy to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his hands.

Sunghoon’s gaze slowly dragged from your chest up to your face. “That’s it, mainly,” He said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Though… my duties extend to anything you ask of me, my queen.”

“Anything?” You murmured quietly, your eyes widening.

He wanted to touch you so badly, to pull you against him so he could kiss you and touch you anywhere and everywhere. But he had to keep the professional veil going, even though he knew you were baiting him.

He nodded, his eyes on yours “Anything at all.”

You batted your eyelashes, trying to seduce him without boldly doing so “Is that so, sergeant?”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, struggling to keep his composure and hoping you weren’t able to see the effect of your presence.

He took a deep breath before replying “Yes, anything you ask of me.”

You gulped, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to put into action your plan “I believe I need to unwind,” You stated “Any ideas?”

Sunghoon’s mind was immediately flooded with ideas, most of them very, very inappropriate for the moment. He bit his lip and tried to keep a straight face.

He considered keeping up the professional front but quickly decided against it. He was tired of forcing himself to maintain control.

“I do have a few ideas, my queen,” He said, his voice a low rumble. “Mind sharing them with me?” You asked.

Sunghoon stepped closer to you, so close that your bodies were almost touching. “My ideas may not be entirely appropriate, my queen,” He replied, “Would you like to hear them anyway?”

You closed briefly your eyes, just the brief feeling of his body near yours sending jolts of fire through your veins “I’m all ears.”

His eyes roamed over your face and body, taking in every single detail. He was practically salivating, desperate to touch you in any way possible.

Sunghoon leaned even closer, his breath now hot on your skin. “I have things I'd like to do, my queen,” He whispered in your ear. “Wicked things, to distract you from your stress.”

You let out a shaky breath, shivering from head to toe “Wicked?” You questioned.

Sunghoon felt his control slip as chuckled slowly, “Oh, very wicked, my lady.”

He brought his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses up and down your skin, taking you by surprise.

However, he kept his hands firmly by his sides, restraining himself from wandering. “I want to do things that would be highly inappropriate for a sergeant to do to his queen.”

“And who says so?” You breathed out, aching for him, your eyes flattering closed.

Sunghoon hummed against your skin, his lips moving to your collarbone. “That would be the royal laws,” He replied quietly, “Among other things.”

“I could get punished for this, you know.” He said in between kisses. “My actions are considered disrespectful.”

“I could change the law,” You replied, hooking your arms around his neck “For the night.”

His hands immediately went to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you even closer to him. “Just for the night, my queen?” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your jaw “I might want more than just one night.”

You chuckled lowly, “How do you know so already, sergeant?”

sunghoon’s hands moved from your hips to your thighs, caressing them through your nightgown, his thumbs tracing patterns against your skin.

Sunghoon pulled back to look at you, his eyes darkened significantly. “I'm quite sure, my queen,” He said, “The things I want to do to you are not something I can do just once.”

You shivered at his words, and the hungry way he was shamelessly looking at you. It almost seemed unreal, the polite soldier losing his cool in front of you, “How about you show me what you can do tonight, first?”

He looked at you, his gaze dark and intense, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.

You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately, like he was starving.

You tip toed, desperate to reach for him, to feel his lips on yours and make you forget all the duties you had.

Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, amused by your struggle to reach his height. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Too short for me, my queen?”

Without warning, he lifted you up with ease, and he continued the kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to steady yourself, thanking yourself for not having worn an underskirt that would’ve made it impossible for you to straddle him.

Sunghoon groaned against your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss becoming more desperate and rougher.

He moved his lips from your mouth and attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went. One of his hands moved from your thigh to your butt, squeezing it appreciatively.

You groaned and let your head fall back, goosebumps filling your skin in reaction to his lips.

Your fingers tried to tug his blue uniform jacket, desperate to remove any clothing between the two of you.

He gently helped you to remove it, chuckling against your neck at your eagerness.

You rocked your hips, needing to feel him, to soothe the aching sensation between your legs.

He pressed his own hips back onto yours, you could feel the proof of his desire for you, secluded in his pants.

“You have no idea how hard it is not to take you right now,” He thrust upwards, making you gasp.

“What’s stopping you, sergeant?” You asked breathlessly, you knew he was trying to restrict himself, to draw a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

But you didn’t care, all you had in mind was how good his touch was on your skin, his lips on yours and how better it would’ve been if he was inside you.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, his breath causing your body to shiver “Absolutely nothing, as long as you’re not opposed to it.”

You chuckled, looking down at yourself “Does it look like I’m against it?”

Your sweet laugh only made him madder and he kissed you, tasting your lips “No, not at all, my queen.”

“Then, take me.” You whispered on his lips, your hand caressing down his arm, still clothed from his sleeved shirt.

Sunghoon shivered under your touch, your words breaking the last strand of self-restraint he had. He grabbed your hips, suddenly carrying you to the bed and dropping you down on it.

He quickly dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands on either side of you, trapping you in “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” He warned.

Your hair formed a halo around your head, spread around the mattress. Your chest was heaving up and down as you replied, “That's fine by me.”

Sunghoon hummed appreciatively at the sight of you splayed out on the bed underneath him. You looked divine, like an angel sent to drive him insane.

He connected his lips to yours once again, his hands moving behind your back as you propped yourself on your elbows.

His skilled fingers worked on the laces of your corset, undoing them.

You frowned, pulling away “Experienced much?”

Sunghoon chuckled softly as he got the corset undone, pulling the fabric off you and discarding it on the floor.

He shook his head before replying, a smirk on his lips. “Just a few,” He said. “and I have been fantasising about this moment for a while now.”

“Have you?” You whispered, your hands caressing his chest, where the v-neckline of the shirt exposed it “Have you thought about me late at night, sergeant?”

Sunghoon sighed softly, his eyes closing briefly as he confessed “Yes,” He said “Every night I’ve wondered what you would taste like, how soft you were, what your moans sounded like.”

His words only made you bolder. “Have you touched yourself wishing it was me?”

Now that the corset wasn’t restricting your air capacity, it also made the dress fall down your shoulder, exposing them to him.

He leaned down and pressed gentle kisses on your skin, trailing them up to your ear “Yes, my queen. I’ve touched myself wishing it was you, craving your body and soul.”

You let out a shaky breath, the sweet sensation warming your lower stomach “Perhaps, I have done the same.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly against your skin, his body shuddering at your confession “You’ve touched yourself, thinking about me?”

You flopped back onto the mattress and hummed “Yes.”

He was completely losing it, the thought of you touching yourself, thinking about him, driving him crazy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.

“Tell me more,” He rasped, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you've done, what you've imagined."

You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your late night secrets.

“Go on, my queen.” His voice was soft and soothing, his hips just barely pressing against yours “I won’t judge you, I can’t… Can I?” He let out a quiet chuckle.

You breathed out “I’ve thought about your fingers,” You gulped “Touching me in places no one has touched before.”

“Where?” He whispered, his nose grazing your cheek “Tell me.”

Instead of speaking, you took his hand and slowly guided it down your body, you were still covered by your dress but he could still feel your core beating under his touch.

So, in one swift movement he placed his hand under your skirt, feeling just how damp your underthings were, making you gasp.

“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured, “Is this how you are around me?”

You nodded, all drops of self awareness down the drain.

Sunghoon smirked, taking your hand with his free one and placing it on the front of his pants, making you feel his hard on “That’s what you do to me.”

Amazed, you started to palm him, letting your hand feel “I do?”

“Yes,” He whispered, his hips bucking against your touch “All the time.”

“Please,” You pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore, I really need you.”

Sunghoon sighed “There’s no turning back from this, my queen..”

“Y/N.” You blurted out, eyes taking in his reaction.

Without having you to explain, he knew what you meant. You wanted him to call you by your name, crossing a boundary that would be hard to build back.

Still, he reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly slipping it down.

You laid underneath it, the only thing separating you from him was your lace underwear, your upper body bare for him to see.

Sunghoon rested his chest on yours, his fingers grazing your clothed core as he whispered in your ear “Y/N.” Making you moan.

You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself “Sunghoon.” You breathed back.

“Y/N..” He murmured, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your entrance with his digits “My pretty, pretty girl.”

Your eyes flickered closed, senses awakened by his single touch.

“You’ve never done this?” He questioned, gathering all your juices in his fingers, your pussy clenching around nothing.

You shook your head, your mind already a puddle of nothing “No.”

“Then I need to get you all nice and lose, mh?” Sunghoon murmured, inserting one of his fingers inside your wet folds.

You gasped, your back arching against him at the intrusion “Oh lord.”

The sensation was so new but so welcome, you had never really dared to finger yourself, your orgasms were given by clit stimulation only, so when his digit thrust into you, your body jolted with each one.

Sunghoon’s lips attached to your left breath, tongue swirling around your nipple and you thought you couldn’t feel any better until he curled his fingers and found your sweet spot, making you moan out loud.

“Shh,” He cooed, pressing one hand on your mouth while his teeth gently grazed your abused nipple. “You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, don’t you?”

You were quick to shake your head, but as he thrust a second finger in your pussy, you grunted.

One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers knotting his perfectly combed hair “S-sunghoon.”

You bucked your hips up, needing him to stop and continue at the same time “Feels so good.”

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, both his fingers brushing against your sweet spot “I know, Y/N.” He murmured “Let me take care of you.”

You nodded mindlessly; you thought that even if he asked you to hand over the kingdom you would’ve nodded anyways.

You whimpered, your other hand digging in the flesh of his shoulders from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, brushing his thumb on your bundle of nerves “Relax.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers, just a brief pain from the intrusion making your head spin.

“Oh lord,” You breathed out, “I think I—“ Another broken whimper left your mouth.

Sunghoon nodded, understanding you and crashed his lips on yours, drowning your moans in.

Another thrust of his fingers got you falling apart under him, your whole body trembling.

It took a good couple of minutes and his soothing words to calm you down, your breath still laboured but at least you could keep your body still.

You opened your eyes back and met his own, he offered you a sweet smile “You’re perfect.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

You smiled back at him, slowly releasing your strong grip around his neck. “This has been… amazing.”

“I’m glad, my— Y/N.” Sunghoon quickly corrected himself, “But… we don’t have to do anything more.”

You frowned, worry coating your features “Was it because you didn’t feel good? I can help—“

He was fast to shake his head. “No, of course not.” He caressed your cheek “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“You will not.” You sat up, looking inside his eyes to convince him “I want it, Sunghoon, I want it with my whole body and soul.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his head, as if he physically restrained himself from reaching out to you and take you in all the ways someone can be taken.

“I want you so much it’s driving me insane,” He breathed out, resting his forehead against your chest “My sweetheart, I would love to make you mine… will you allow me to?”

You nodded “Yes, please.” You tugged at his shirt, needing him to remove it.

Sunghoon complied, tossing it to the floor as well as his trousers, leaving himself bare to you.

At first, you hadn’t understood why he was so reluctant to be intimate with you, but as soon as your eyes met his bare chest, you did.

Your breath hitched at the sight of a wide scar all across his chest, looking like half a cross.

“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your fingers trailed over it. He flinched but quickly relaxed under your gentle touch “What happened to you?”

His eyes were so vulnerable and he looked like a lost boy, not like the sergeant of a legion. “I will just say that I had a close contact with a blade, back when I was still training to become a knight.”

He gulped “I understand if I repulse you—“

“No,” You quickly took his face in your hands “No. You’re beautiful.”

He frowned, as if not understanding what would you ever find beauty in such a scar.

Seeing that he wasn’t believing you, you laid on your back and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking him down with you.

Your hand reached to pump his shaft and it was as if he died and came to life again, nothing like those nights he touched himself thinking about you, could prepare him from this.

You slowly aligned him with your folds and nodded, wanting him to make the first move.

He let out a pained sigh and gripped your waist, finally pushing in you.

You were still wet from the foreplay and as well as your cum, but it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some pain from his thickness.

He moved slowly, his breath fanning your cheeks while he brushed his nose against your skin.

“How does it feel?” Sunghoon whispered in your ear “Mh? Tell me, Y/N.”

Your skin was sweaty and hot, “So good.” You murmured back, tightening your hold on his neck “Faster, please.”

You begged him so sweetly and politely he couldn’t refuse, his hips moving against yours slightly faster “You want to make love?” He questioned “Or do you want me to take you like how I’ve wanted since I laid my eyes on you?”

“Take me.” You choked out, your eyes squeezing from the pleasure “Hard, I don’t care.”

Sunghoon circled your waist with his arm and held you tightly against him, you could feel the shadow of his scar on your chest.

His hips snapped on yours so fast even the bed started creaking, and you secretly hoped no servant was walking by to hear your show.

“Open up.” Sunghoon said and you obliged, opening your mouth.

He gathered some saliva in his mouth before spitting in yours, watching as it went down your throat.

You hummed, gulped it, tasting him “Jesus Christ.” He shook his head, his cock twitching inside of you.

“I don’t think I can last longer.” He squeezed his eyes, his fingers digging in your hips as he tried to restrain himself.

“Don’t you dare unless I cum again.” Your fingers went to stroke your bundle of nerves fast “Together.”

Sunghoon hummed, his own movements getting sloppy but never faltering as he chased his high.

“Y/N.” He groaned, one of his nails piercing your skin, adding just the right amount of pain to send you over the edge.

“Now!” You cried out, your body shaking with your second orgasm of the night.

Sunghoon let out a deep growl and emptied his seed in you, coating your clenching walls.

“So perfect.” He kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing after the intensity of the night “You’re perfect.”

He got up and took a napkin from your table, carefully cleaning your legs while also prepping kisses on your inner thighs.

You were sure that if your body wasn’t tired you would’ve mounted him.

Sunghoon reached into his clothes but your hand darted out to stop him “Stay.”

His eyes softened, pondering between staying or leaving. He opted for the first.

You had never felt happier than falling asleep with the sound of his heartbeat next to your ear, aimlessly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.

But your relationship made it so that he was forced to peel himself away from you when he thought you were asleep, gathering his clothes and quietly slipping out of your room.

And it was the best decision, soon, you would’ve had to find a husband, make an heir for your real, rule it with all your attention.

Good thing, late night was made to unwind, and it never happened if nobody knew… did it?

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tamayakii · 1 year ago

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Fathers Love

notes: honestly i went in so hard without a plan this kinda fell through so I'm so sorry if it sucked, i wrote this in like, an hour with no beta reader or breaks. Sorry homies, this is all u get until i get more inspo <3 tags: @inuyasha330 warnings: angst, daddy daughter angsty, the way i was tempted to make this emotionally incesty but i DIDNT- thank me for that. anyways, dives over the pier.

The atmosphere felt thick around you, sitting in an unfamiliar environment. Your only comfort was your older brother but even then he felt distant, you saw the stars of the galaxy and more; you saw things that amazed you.

“So this is what I missed out on?” whispering to him, when you had gotten your powers he had offered you a trip through the stars but you had rejected it; terrified of the powers granted to you through your DNA.

Days before the incident in Chicago, your father had forced you to get a superhero suit when he found out that you too were blessed with the viltrumite powers, promising that he too would train you as he did Mark but; that no matter what you were still his little girl.

You were always his little girl, when you came into this world Nolan had shed the first tears he ever would shed; he was so fearsomely protective of you. Never letting you go out alone, finally seeing the purpose of the backpack leashes marketed towards parents, always always kept you close to him. Growing up he was your hero, he was your everything.

Now the suit feels uncomfortably tight with the memory of his words when he saw it on you for the first time, “just like me” he said, back then it was a compliment but now it was your fear.

“Yeah.. it’s amazing. Isn’t it?” Mark replied in turn, looking at you. There’s a pause before he puts his hand on your shoulder, “it’s gonna be okay.” he answers, you want to believe him. You wanted to but your gut told you otherwise but you stifled it. “I hope so.”

The rest of the flight passed by quickly, with sleeping and eating orange-coloured goo there wasn’t much else to do besides daydream. After a while; all the stars looked the same, passing you by like blurs.

You wondered about where your father went, leaving Chicago a mess, beating your brother to near death- Leaving the world without a word to you or your mother. How many stars away was he? You were left no time to wonder before Nuolzot announced your arrival, waking your brother up.

The skies were pink turning into blue, and purple buildings and large arches decorated the sandy planet. The spaceship hummed as it slowly landed, a horde of blue bug people awaited your arrival.

Cautiously you followed Mark, so close that you were practically his shadow. While he stared in wonderment, you looked for the meteor showers that were supposedly destroying the planet, but there was no sign of them. Only clear skies, no orange fiery balls of death. You held onto Mark's forearm, your gut twisting as Nuolzot took you further from the ship.

“Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving? Where are the meteors?” Mark questions, you let out a small breath. So he noticed too, you stared at the alien from behind Mark. Face twisting when he answers, forgetting about his own planet's demise that he had cried out about in your backyard before finding your brother at college.

Mark stopped, “The ones that kill billions?” He questions slowly. Stepping in a way that covered you from Nuolzot, as if he was gonna attack as an answer to Mark. But only to leave you two in confusion about his answer,

“The Monarch will explain all.” You begin to wonder who the Monarch was, what it was. Was there no one else to help this planet? Why come all this way when there must be nearby planets that could help?

“Your Majesty!!” The alien calls out, pulling you out of your thoughts, “May I present, Invincible and His sibling, Of Earth!” You and Mark stammer before bowing, figuring it was the most respectful thing to do.

“Hello, Kids.” Shock runs through you like a viper, making your heart drop and your limbs go numb. “It’s been a while.” Your bottom lip quivers and you look up- Dad. There he is, tears fill your lash line as you rack your head for answers,

“Dad?” Marks voice sounds like the wind, moving farther away. Your brows further, shaking your head as you watch Mark approach him. Memories of childhood and happiness flood through you like a dam broken, the love for your father washes over you before something else hits you. Anger, Despair, Sadness.

It was like looking the devil in the eye, the same one that had killed thousands. Your fists clench as you step back, lowering your head as you gaze at him through your eyelashes. Body quivering with the amount of power it takes to not scream at him, to hit him, to ask him why he ruined everything.

And Mark hugs him. He fucking hugs him. It’s like a knife in your heart, biting your lip so hard you taste the iron in your blood. The longer their embrace goes, the longer your heart squeezes. Emotions wrap around you like an old friend amidst the eye of a hurricane, words become distant as you remember all of the pain he put you through, put your mother. Your brother.

You’re brought back to reality when Marks hand touches your shoulder, Nolans eyes catching yours making you flinch from his gaze. “Guess they don’t know you like we do… Fuck you.” Thats the last word your brother says before he takes off, for a few seconds you look back at him. The man that is your father, he goes to reach out; mouth opening and you take off just like Mark. Catching up to him, tears being blown away by the harsh oncoming wind.

But despite all that, he catches up to you; “you’ll never make it home on your own!” You speed up, leaving Mark and Nolan behind. You wanted your silence to hurt him, to cut him deeper than he cut you but it wasn’t possible because he made a hole in your heart.

Mark catches back up to you and Nolan follows again, bargaining with Mark. Promising a ship back home, that Nuolzot wasn’t lying. That they do need help. You let out a yell of frustration; can’t they leave you alone? If you had to fly back to earth on your own you will.

You keep flying, even when Mark doesn’t follow anymore. You keep going until you feel your body adjust to the lack of oxygen, till your tears float in the endless void of space.

“Wait! Wait up!” You stop at your brother's voice, lips quivering. “Please. Wait.”

“Look.. just five minutes-” He bargains “What?! No! Absolutely not! I- No! Are you insane?!” You push him away, but he floats back, angering you more. He grabs your forearms,

“Just five minutes is all. Is there is actual trouble; then we’ll help them out. If not, we can leave. It’s just five minutes.” Mark explains, his dark eyes are wide and begging.

“..fine. But i’m not saying anything to him.” Mark nodded, before pressing his forehead against yours. “That’s okay,” he answers gently before flying with you beside him.

“Five minutes.” Mark orders, Nolan looks at you but you don’t look at him,

“don’t you wanna say anything to me?” Nolan asks- arms out in defeat. He expected this, expected hatred, expected yelling or anything. Anything but silence. He hated silence. Especially from his little girl, that hurt him the most. Both you and Mark flew down to the civilization in response, following Nolan through the building. Mark and him made small talk- more like argued.

You spaced out, trying to bide back the pain that holds you tight, you look up to see another bug alien approach your father and kiss him. Your mouth flies open; Words are exchanged but they’re tuned out.

Seconds feel like hours, Nolan walks to a crib and realisation hits you hard. You feel sick, he made a new family. You’ve been replaced. You’re not his little girl anymore, you were nothing to him. Bile rises through your throat,

“I’m gonna be sick” You shout, turning and sprinting out the door to barf into a potted plant, Mark storms out afterwards and Nolan goes chasing, his bug mate as well. “Oh dear- are you okay?” She asks, holding the baby in one arm and the other rubbing your back. You feel bad, normally you would be thankful for any pity when you barf but now her touch makes you wanna scream. Shrugging her off, you sneer at her before storming off as well.

You see your father and brother, rage making you see red. “What I did on Earth was..” Your fist connects with Nolans jaw as he speaks but it only makes him stumble a bit.

“Fuck you! Just fuck you!! You get to come to earth and make a family- make us love you as if you loved us and then you fuck off to make a new one!?” You cry out, your voice breaking from the strain on your vocal cords. Nolan rubs his jaw, his eyes hold anything but anger, but youre blind to it.

“Please... It’s not what you think.” He pleads, holding his hands out. You slap them away and push him,

“You put me into this fucked up world! You promised me you’d never leave me and look what you did! You left me! You almost killed Mark! Mom cries every night and i don’t know what to do with myself!” You hit his chest, “you said i was your little girl but you left and made a new family like we were nothing! Well fuck you!” You hit his chest over and over again, to no avail.

“Please. Listen.” He grabs your wrists, “You have to listen. You and your brother need to help these people; if not, viltrumite will kill them. They already know i left my post.” Tears roll down your cheeks, and you lean your head back and thrust into his nose.

“Post!? We were just some fucking post to you!? Why do you care about them? Why not us? What about me!?” Headbutting him made no difference, you struggle in his grip. The sight of his babygirl crying broke him; he was supposed to protect you and all he did was hurt you.

“Look i.. I needed you and your brothers' help. They’re good people. We need to save them”

“What about me dad? What about me? Where were you when i needed saving?” your words fall more gently, and you press your forehead on his chest. You wanted to be his little girl again; giggling in his arms as he swung you around.

“I promise, we can talk about all of this soon. But you have to help me save these people.”

And like the little girl who did anything for her daddy's approval, you caved. You hung onto that promise, not realizing that he wouldn’t be able to keep it but for now, it comforted you, warm like your father's love.

#invincible x reader #invincible #nolan grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader #wow thats not alot of tags...

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heavenbloom · 2 months ago

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🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: BOYCOTT TLOU • HELP TODAY • DAILY CLICK.

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒊: 𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒆𝒓

knight!abby x princess!reader

you can find chapter one here! and the series masterlist here

songs: (act one) main yeh sochkar uske dar se utha — mohammed rafi, (act two) ang laga de — aditi paul, (act three) sealed in fire and blood — ramin djawadi

summary: in the aftermath of your crime, one is eaten alive by regret and the other is consumed by vengeance. the innocence of a blooming love lies dead and from its ashes rises something raw and sweltering.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut and angst, fingering (r!receiving), grinding (?), betrayal, typical fantasy and monarchal political themes, typical period-piece misogyny, mentions of death and a funeral, extensive descriptions of blood, violence and death, nightmares, enemies to lovers, threats made with both words and a weapon, side character deaths, profanities, derogatory language used, please read at your own discretion. semi-proofread

wc: 6.3k

a/n: sorry for the wait!! i hope y’all enjoy <3

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

The turned over soil was dark with its upheaval. The drag of earth, the thud of it, was the rhythm of a drumbeat, one that called for grief and received no answer in turn. The only ones to mourn poor Asha were the other servants. Her mother’s wails cut through the air, a skull-rattling cry of anguish. The others did not allow themselves to weep. The workers of the Palace had seen enough bloodshed within its cold, white walls, now numbed to its horrors. Only exhaustion engulfed their features. Another one…

Asha understood this pain as much as she did the thump of her own heartbeat. That was why she decided to work with you, to be a gatherer of secrets. You could still remember the lightheartedness that graced her features, her lopsided smile when she said, whose eyes are all-seeing if not a maid’s?

You were the reason for this girl’s demise. It may have been that nobleman’s blade that sliced to the bone, but it was your promises of hope and security that led her to an untimely grave.

You, a coward. You, a murderer.

You slipped back into the Palace as the rosy shades of dawn swaddled the figures of the grieving, before the welling of tears threatened to fall. Your weeping would have been a mockery, something disingenuous to those who would bear witness. Did you have the right to wear mourning white and feel emotions strong as the beating sun, throat dry and body weak?

Another face flittered into the forefront of your mind, freckled and sharp-lined. Grief clung to the inside of your ribcage. If only you could crack it open and pour this ugliness of yourself out, become pure and benign. Become something worthy of any of the graces you had been given.

You could taste bitter salt on your tongue, feel warmth drip from nose to lip to chin. You could pray and cleanse yourself of your sins all you liked, but it would never be enough. She would look upon your heart with fondness no longer. She saw you as you were, now. Treacherous, rotten, worm-eaten.

☾𖤓

You still adorned funerary attire when you arrived at the Palace’s holding cells. It was located deep within its bowels, lacking its upper cleanliness. The bricks here were haphazardly laid, and an oppressive dampness had seeped itself into each nook and cranny of the place.

The guards had sputtered at your presence, choked words of you not being allowed down here falling from their lips in a weak attempt to deny you entry. But you knew them well. Their loyalties lay at the feet of the Crown’s coin, not at the throne of the King. All you needed to do was shove a necklace and a few bangles their way, and their lips were sealed.

The soft leather of your soles caught slightly with each step, made for marble floors and not the rough and dusty ground beneath. The only sounds present were that of your jewellery chiming with each step and a distant drip, drip, drip.

There were no other prisoners within the holding cells, long since shipped off and never to be heard from again. Icy tendrils ran up the length of your spine as you made your way down the cramped hallway, eyes frantically searching.

She was in the cell at the end. Her back was turned, silhouetted from the little light that encompassed the space. Her outline looked equally defeated and taut, as if she was grappling with what was and what should have been.

You stepped closer, an exhale forcing its way past your trembling lips.

”Abigail.” Relief tapered the ragged edges of your voice. Your intricately stained hands clasped around the rusted metal of the bars as your entire being lurched forward.

Her body snapped tense, bowstring-tight, the set of her shoulders alone divulging the bitterness that simmered just beneath the surface. There was a moment of palpability as you let your presence hang over her, as unwelcome as pelting rain.

”Abigail,” you said more urgently when she remained unfacing. Softer, “Look at me, please.”

At your coaxing plea, she turned her head to the side. Her familiar profile was illuminated by the weak, flickering flame upon the wall. The sight of her was faint, but there was a certain fatigue about the set of her brow, something restrained in the pinch of her lips.

”You...” The word was pushed out on a weak breath, hazy as if pulled forth from a dream. Then, she gathered her bearings, shoulders rolling back and straightening so her broad frame swallowed up more space. Acrid venom coated her vocal chords as she squeezed the word, again, through the grit of teeth. “You.”

“What are you doing here?”

You crouched to your knees with the hesitance of somebody trapped at the whims of a beast. Her sclera shimmered violently in what little light there was. Those eyes had always been a weapon against your resolve. Each glance of hers was a nocked arrow aimed at the fortified centre of your heart. Now, it was as if she had dipped the arrowheads in oil and set them ablaze.

Your voice tumbled, an unfamiliar bubble of uncertainty rising within it. Carefully chosen, sweet words would not work on Abigail. You were disarmed by her, at the mercy of your own foulness that had been laid so bare before her.

So instead you decided to speak a truth, one that would not gut either of you so quickly. “Asha, my… the handmaid. She’s dead. She was killed by that nobleman.”

You waited for a response but Abigail remained silent, eyes pinning you in place and searching for any sign of trickery. Your fingers tightened around the bars as you stared back, seeking any crack that she bore, any fissure you could slip through and work to your will, but none sifted to her stony surface. Perhaps she just relished in watching you squirm.

“Her burial was this morning,” you spoke gently, the image of the lively girl flickering across your mind, seared there forevermore. “I came here immediately after. I knew that— I was overcome with an urgency to see you.”

Her eyes drifted to your white clothing. A hateful, bitter smile split the plaster of her features.

“Will you blame that poor girl’s death on me as well?” she asked in a mocking tone, voice laced with amused contempt. “Oh, I can hear it now, what they will say about me. Abigail, so faithful a knight that she struck down feeble noblemen and maids alike for her princess.”

Heat crept up your neck as you bristled at her mockery. There it was, the stinging lash of the truth coming to strike once more.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one who took the fall for the crime. This is on you, Abigail, and your own foolishness. You have… you have no right to scorn me for it.”

Her body dipped forward, closer, and it was the first time you heard the weighty rattle of chains. They were fastened onto her ankles. Normal conduct for an alleged killer, yet they looked so misplaced now. Such a far cry from the shining knight she was only days ago.

The derisive tone she had moments ago slipped away to reveal a nakedness, a rubbed-raw thing that clawed its impatient fingers up her aching gullet. “And you did not fess up to your crime. You watched like a helpless little lamb as they dragged me away, all the while you were bathed in that man’s blood.”

Her voice shook with the vulnerability of leaves caught within a storm, but it was not tears that she tried to reign back. It was rage, pure and sharp as the edge of a diamond.

“Where is your honour, princess?!”

The same dormant fury that she held close to her sparked to life in your chest. If it were anybody else, you would have shoved the vile emotion down, but it was her. She had already seen the violence, the pulsing and ever-malleable wrath, that consumed your entire being. For once, you could be outwardly wretched. You could be honest.

Honour this and honour that. The blood of a hundred monarchs shaped the very drum of your heartbeat and she wished to speak of honour? You would laugh if it weren’t for the tightening fist around your lungs.

The colour seeped from your knuckles as you pressed yourself closer to the iron bars, as if you could melt into them with the very ferocity racing within you. “You forget yourself,” you reprimanded firmly. “If you dare question my honour again I’ll—”

“What will you do?” Her chin jutted out, mouth pressed into a thin, stubborn line. The possibility of challenge hardened her features. “My title has been stripped, my morality brought into question– all on the basis of a lie. There is no worse pain that you can inflict upon me.”

Yet your life remains intact, you thought viscously. Yet I let you sit here and lick your bloody wounds, unharmed.

“You should know my capabilities well by now,” you whispered, your words drifting to her like opiate smoke; low, heady, perilous. You were not subtle in the ribbon of a threat you wrapped around your words, tightened noose-like in the way your eyes pinned her in turn.

She rose to her feet then, the clank of iron ringing in the air as she dragged herself closer to the bars. She stopped just out of arm’s breadth from it as the chains screeched in protest.

You had never felt threatened by her presence, but now you could at last understand the notoriety of her legacy that followed her like a shadow. As she looked down her nose at you, you felt a dull pang of sympathy for the long list of her opponents on the battlefield. Even restrained, she was a formidable sight.

“And you remain ignorant of mine…” she spoke lightly despite all things. “You would do well to remember them, princess.”

There was a pointed promise in the way her lips shaped around each word, as if each one was loaded with the very essence of vengeance.

You lifted yourself from the ground, elegant as ever as you straightened your back and met her eye, drawing the veil that had slipped onto your shoulders over your hair once more. A princess. Her superior.

A smile curled on your lips, the cloying quality of milk beginning to sour. “We shall see, then, how… proficient you are from within a cell.”

Your head dipped forward slightly, a hand pressed to your left breast. There was a taunt in how respectful the gesture was. It was one only exchanged between equals.

“May the gods smile upon your determined spirit, Abigail.”

𖥸 𖥸 𖥸

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎

You were dreaming of it again. Metal in your hands, metal in a gut. The bubbling groan of a man mere moments away from death. And, oh, the crimson, everything red-slickened and raw. His eyes were no longer his own, but rather beads of boundless contempt, staring and staring and—

Reality slammed its fists into your chest, awakened with a choked gasp squeezing its way out of your throat. Your eyelids flew open to the deep blue near-dawn. The crooning of first birdsong flitted through the arched doorway, eerie in its solitary note. You blinked up at the roof, the carvings of deities and flowers shifting and mingling, one and the same, in your unfocused vision.

The man you killed was not owed any sympathy. He was egotistic and wished to be as close to your brother as a cat curled on its owner’s lap. He would have done anything to garner the love of a tyrant, and you felt a nauseating amount of hatred for him even in his demise. There was no remorse for killing him, and you reminded yourself that it was an act of rooting out bad weeds before your reign, but your subconscious disagreed.

It was still taking a life and it was a defiling rake of nails beneath your skin. No matter who the man was, he was still human.

You wanted to be ruthless, to cleanse yourself of any feeling and barrel towards your goals with cold, uncaring resolve. But then you would be the spitting image of your brother. The thought of it made your stomach turn.

You sat up then, the sheets slipping off of your torso and heaping onto your lap. You dragged your shaky hands down your face until your fingers traced the soft outline of your lips.

Your thoughts parted then drifted back to Abigail. At this hour, they seldom didn’t

You recalled the strength in each of her actions even as she moved about with an easy fluidity. The glimpses of raised white scars that littered her body, one that you had never known the complete bareness of.

What were her feelings when she first killed someone? Was she now plagued by a thousand phantoms in the world of her dreams, still bleeding from the wounds she inflicted upon them? Did she feel nothing at all?

Your rumination was cut short when a faint breeze wafted through the curtains, fragrant from the foliage below. You lifted your head to it as it stirred the loose hair that brushed against your forehead. The action should have been soothing, but what you spotted turned the blood in your veins glacial.

You had no idea how long Abigail had been here. She was sitting on top of a floor cushion in front of the balcony doorway, one knee propped just beneath her chin and the other leg stretched outwards. The position would have looked regal, akin to the uncaring languidness of a ruler, if not for the way she watched you. Chin pointed towards her chest, a blue glare slicing through long brown lashes.

She was motionless in the purpling hues of morning, more beast crouched in wait than leisurely empress.

The fear you felt seeped marrow-deep, but something else lurked beneath it. swirling in the pit of your gut. It had been months since you had seen this face last, yet it was stitched into the seams of your every thought, conscious or dreaming.

Something within you lurched.

For once, words eluded you. Ambition was a potent drug, you knew, and paired with vengeance it became absolute. How could you placate such a resolute mind?

Your throat dried as you watched her stand. There was no preamble as she crossed the room in a few long strides. This time, there were no chains and bars to keep her sequestered. The truth of this should have sent you scrambling, but astonishment buoyed you to the bed, quiet.

Her freckled cheeks were awash with a rosy red, almost cherubic despite the face that she wore. A hateful expression. A hate so powerful, it teetered on a look of pain.

Your thumb twitched as she stopped mere inches away, the desire to smooth out the uneasy crease of mouth and brow shoved back into the depths of yourself. Why did her presence, the mere concept of her, steal away all reason and substitute it with something so sickly vulnerable?

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wilted on your tongue when you felt the cool press of steel against your neck. There was no tremble in the blade. Her grip on the hilt was certain.

Understanding came as steadfast as the morning unfurling itself to the earth beyond your chambers. You, lovesick. Her, loathing you for it. For all of it.

“If you utter a single word…” she warned through gritted teeth, pressing the tip of the blade closer to your skin, the pressure of its presence imminent.

Her eyes drifted down to the column of your throat, eyeing the stable heaving of your chest. A scowl fractured her features. “I should end your vicious little life right here and live up to the title you've cursed me with.”

You could sense it, the unspoken however. The wraith of the word settled over you like the gauze of a veil. If she wished to kill you so badly, she could have left you gutted on the fine sheets and fled before buttery sunlight engulfed the room.

Why hadn’t she?

“I expected the same amount of goodness in response to my sacrifice. I expected you to come clean or… or to at the very least free me from that miserable cell!” Her features contorted at the remembrance of the dark, cramped space, the stifling silence, the numbing solitude.

Then, the more chilling memories. Your face, flitting behind each blink. Your laugh, heard in the heavy rhythm of her own breath. Your lips, whispers and kisses and bites, felt only in the slumbering hours of a place that remained in stasis. Her hand flexed around the weapon.

Her voice took on the timbre of fervently plucked sitar strings. “The very thing I pledged my life to, the very thing I killed for, left me to rot. My King and his supposed sweet, saintly sister… how do you think such a wound festers, princess?”

You could not dignify her question with an answer. You had known no such discomfort, no such betrayal or ache.

“Abigail…” Her name, spoken again with the quiet of a clandestine prayer. What else was there to do but acknowledge her through these three sweet syllables?

A prick of pain. The warmth of lifeblood trickling down the length of your throat. Just a nick, a rivulet. Abigail drew in her breath. Her irises seemed to shiver in their anger.

“I told you to be silent,” her voice sank into an exacerbated whisper. “Or would you rather I skewer you now?”

Gone was the radiant, gentle-hearted knight, eclipsed by the moon of this new vindictive creature. You were enraptured by the jaggedness of her being. Hair uncharacteristically dishevelled and loose around her shoulders. Dilapidated sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

“How angry you are…”

“Insolent–”

“Your beauty shines like this.”

Silence, thick and saccharine as flowing honey, settled over the moment.

Abigail looked as if you had snatched the dagger from her and plunged it bone-deep. The first tremors of uncertainty twitched beneath her sure, calloused fingers.

The wanting, besotted thing within Abigail gnashed its craving teeth. No. She would not let you disarm her of this, the one vein of conviction that pumped purpose into her battered heart. I will not waver.

But it was another thing entirely, to resist the beckoning call of surrender when you reached for her.

The moment your sleep-warmed hands came in contact with her own, she knew that fighting was futile. Her grip loosened, the blade slid from between her palms and into your own grasp.

It was without a doubt stolen. It was weighty and intricately engraved with motifs of the sun and moon. The crest of your kingdom. How ironic.

Your gaze flickered from it to Abigail, whose eyes chased every movement of yours. She was waiting for you to return the favour, to press the blade to her own throat.

It never came.

The blade was placed on the low, wooden bedside next to the bed, its mass clattering against the varnished surface. Surrender.

“Why…?” she breathed through the constriction of her lungs. Where was the familiar fire, that arrogance she came to despise?

“We were not destined to be adversaries.” Spoken as if this rivalry was something you alone could decide.

Your features were aglow as first rays of dawn crept its way into the room. Brilliant eyes, straight spine, parted lips. In the liquid, shifting gold, you looked incorporeal. Coaxed from the most bereft parts of her mind.

A large palm cupped the softness of your cheek, a thumb running over the bending bone of your jaw and leading up to the bridge of your nose. She had to remind herself, sometimes, that you were flesh and bone beneath the title and crown.

They say that the royal blood carried on the legacy of a fallen deity, who perished for nourishing this very kingdom. She never considered herself a particularly pious person but it rang true to her, especially now.

“Then, enlighten me, princess,” she spoke softly. “What path have the gods carved for us?”

“The gods have no hand in this.” Blasphemous words that cut into her. “No, I won’t accredit this to divinity.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you let yourself melt into the coolness of her touch. “I want you, Abigail.”

A litany of pleas that danced, unsaid, on your tongue. Love me, love me, love me.

Begging was unnecessary, for the same thrill of need sang in her own bones. She tilted your head up slowly, admiring the way grandiosity slipped from your being as swiftly as it came.

Her lips against yours were a beckoning. They moved with a sure rhythm, gentler than the last time. Her kiss told you to unveil yourself to her. Give me sincerity, it whined. Give me an honest place to lay this love.

You fell back against the plush pillows, pulling her down with you. Her weight crashed against yours, hefty and unknown, yet comforting in its corporeality. She smelled faintly of mildew and rain, a scent splintered with the sharp tang of rust.

Your tongue ran across the bottom of her plump lip gently, asking for entrance. If she wanted the truth, you would offer it in its entirety.

Your searching fingers found her blonde tresses while hers skimmed down to the hem of your nightgown. She slowly drew the airy fabric upwards from your ankles to your knees and then the middle of your thighs. The contact of the calloused drag of skin sparked something within, warmth coiling in the pit of your belly like a slumbering dragon.

You broke away from her to sit up, pulling the piece of thin cloth up and over your head. Abigail watched, sitting back on her haunches, as each inch of your skin was bared to her patient gaze. The softness found in each curve was a marvel to her, a body unmarred by the outside world. She observed you like one would an intricate tapestry, each whorl and knot revealing more depth with each second passed.

A hum of appreciation reverberated through her chest as she began to focus on discarding her own threadbare clothing. First, the tunic and then the tight hose that stuck to her skin.

Her body was a thing conjured from epic poems and scriptures. Robust and sunkissed, with the new dawn melting over her back and haloing the outline of her body. A hero, draped in the splendour of victory… a god, blessing the mortal realm with its incomprehensible presence.

You reeled Abigail back towards you, the searing heat of her heaving chest pressing against yours. Her lips trailed dulcet kisses along your jaw as her fingers splayed against the flesh of your thighs.

Your bodies melded together, pressing as if through the sheer force of passion, you could become one. Your bodies sang with pleasure, thrumming out an ancient and gasping melody.

Hands and eyes, dilated with velvet-black pits of ecstasy, explored. You traced over the scars that ran down her body, transforming them into rivers and pathways, her body an entire world that they occupied.

Her fingers grazed over the wet, sensitive flesh between your legs, silky and petal-like. They found the sensitive bud there, rubbing gentle circles upon it with her thumb while two of her other digits prodded for entry.

You arched into her, a sweet noise dancing off of your parted lips as she slid them in knuckle-deep. She lured bliss from your body with each thrust and curl, each sweet word and absentminded, drunken press of her lips against yours.

Your writhing figure against hers was enough to make her own cunt throb with pure need. You felt, even through the haziness, her broad body rocking against yours, her pelvis gently seeking friction against the plushness of your thigh.

A symphonic crescendo of moans swelled in the morning air as you both neared shivery climax. Her ministrations grew more frenzied, eyebrows knitted together and bottom lip drawn tightly between her teeth.

The pressure snapped, swift and blinding. You held onto Abigail tightly as she shook along with you, shallow breaths mingling together. The hard planes of her stomach were now sweat-slicked and she felt almost feverish against you.

As the throes of orgasm subsided, you raked a hand through her hair and pressed a dry kiss to the junction between her neck and shoulder. She was still panting, slumped on top of you.

This was a first, this contentment that wound itself through her being. There was not an ounce of tension in the sculpted divots and muscle.

You pressed another kiss to her temple and you exhaled as she buried her nose further into your collarbone.

Vulnerability rose up within you, and this time you loosened your grip on its reigns. Insatiability had always been your greatest weakness. You wanted her, you realised, not just in passing but always. You wanted to wake up to golden hair fanned across your pillows and a freckled nose pressed up against yours. You wanted the surety she guaranteed and the devotion that it promised.

You wanted to love with all of yourself, and not just through the confines of the mould that you had been trapped in since birth. You wanted to be loved, no matter how many times you were forced to bloody your hands.

For that, however, you would have to peel back one last layer.

☾𖤓

Abigail was turned away from you as you told her your plans of usurpation, her face tilted up towards the heat beating in as she gathered up her scattered clothing. She pulled each piece on with a languidness, the nape of her neck still flushed beneath curling blonde baby hairs.

The lack of reaction turned the sweetness of your post-lovemaking haze sour. Your thoughts raced and tangled together in an incessant bundle as you forced the words leaving your mouth to remain a steady stream.

Would this revelation swing the pendulum of rivalry into motion once more? With your prior actions, you could sympathise, but this… this was grander than her. It was the ember that would flare the kindlings of hope; a prosperous future assured.

No remorse could be felt for that.

“Abigail…” you spoke slowly, the shape of her name dripping with solemnity. “My conviction is stone.”

You drew breath into your lungs as you watched her drag her bottoms up her legs, as if you were whispering sweet nothings and not outright treason.

“If you are not my ally… if your heart's not in this, I will declare you my enemy.”

You touched the dagger still resting at your bedside, precious and half-forgotten. “Do we have an understanding?”

She turned to face you then, absentmindedly fastening the ties of her tunic. Tousled but bright as noonday, she was beautiful enough to crush the new bloom nestled in your heart.

She gazed at the weapon before looking at you directly. Clear blue and milky white, unwavering and unreadable.

Not so much an arrow now, her eyes were a roaring blaze, and your resolve was the aftermath of something swallowed whole.

𖥸 𖥸 𖥸

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

The wind wailed into the silence, crashing its invisible body against the looming Palace and whistling in the gaps of the sun bleached stone. Chaos roiled in the underbelly of the night, the closing notes of summer felt in the lashing heat that lingered.

Despite the late hour, the oil lamps in the throne room and surrounding hallways burned low and perilous. Servants scurried out of the way, prostrating themselves on the ground as a cloud of white and gold glided past them.

The tremendous, ancient doors opened with a loud groan, making you swivel around. Encased in the rigid formation, like an egg warmed by a hen, was your brother. He spared you so much as a glance as he climbed up the stairs leading to the throne, his footfalls muffled by the plush, richly coloured carpet. The knights dispersed to their positions as he did so, silent and armed witnesses.

“My King…” You knelt low to the ground, your head centimetres from the cold marble. You were his subject first, his blood second.

You heard the rustle of fabric and the sigh of a feather-stuffed cushion being squashed beneath weight.

“Rise.” His voice was clear and authoritative. You lifted your head to your mirror. The same eyes beneath a cruel set of brows. Same mouth, pressed into a thin line. The same hands, enclosed around the sheath of a sword, merely ornamental. A dutifully polished thing that had never tasted violence.

You stumbled onto your feet, and noted his clothing; a plum-coloured robe and a necklace of pearls and rubies dripping down his throat, like bone and blood congealed. Ever opulent, ever the lavish King, even in the privacy of nightfall.

“State your business,” he spoke with a now bored inflection. “Tell me why you have disturbed me at so late an hour.”

There was a hum of warning beneath his tone. If the reason for this disruption was frivolous, you knew he would not think twice about spearing you through.

After all, what was an imperial daughter? Your value was held in your capability to be married off, to secure alliances, to fawn and charm and pamper. You had proven long ago that you would not be a bargaining chip in the game of monstrous men.

You may have been worthless in that regard, but perhaps there was a way to regain his favour…

Eyes wide and lips quivering, you huddled your arms to your chest. Weak, small, inferior tohim in every way.

“I caught her, Your Grace. The knight that escaped her cell,” you spoke through the warbling tones of fear. “She… she made an attempt on my life, but, blessed by the gods, I was saved.”

This piqued his interest. Your brother rested his chin on a thickly jewelled hand, his body leaning forward. Frankly, there was no love in his heart for the nobleman that lost his life, nor was there a thirst for vengeance because of it. Nonetheless, Abigail’s escape had tarnished his punitive, unbested reputation.

For that alone, her head deserved to roll.

“Ah… finally a useful word you speak.” He smiled, his lips still wrapped around his teeth. Its mirthfulness stopped short of his eyes, still as shrewd as ever.

You watched as he gestured around the room, turning his head this way and that in mock confusion. “Well? Where is the unloyal cunt?” Joy trickled down into his demeanour now and, like a child anticipating gifts, his body straightened and his eyes shone. Only in his cruelty did the more human parts of himself show from within.

You turned to the guard standing beside the entrance, and inclined your head deeply.

There was a whirl of feather-white silk as he left the throne room, and mere moments later, the clang of metal against the marble floors reverberated through the vast space. It was different from the cheerful, jingling song of the anklet bells of dancers that typically graced these halls. This was weightier. It held no rhythm or reason.

Abigail was dragged in hastily, adorned from waist-to-toe in chains. The men who pulled her along dumped her onto the ground unceremoniously and her form sprawled with no resistance. The dry scratch of her voice, pain, left her lips. Her golden, knotted hair clashed with the deep red of the carpet, spilling across it as she tried to right herself. It was one last shred of dignity, to rise upon trembling knees.

A low, appreciative whistle shot through the air, drawing your attention back to your brother. A grin now split his features, a thing with too many teeth. Each gemstone shimmered as he stood, a wave of light as he clutched his sword tightly by his side.

“You’ve done well, sister,” he praised as he descended the stairs slowly. His eyes were trained on Abigail as he spoke to you, his steps were punctuated with the chime of finery. He had a likeness to a predator in this moment, something feline slinking towards its prey.

“Very well, indeed.” Deep purple pooled at his ankles, his finely crafted shoes just centimetres from Abigail’s form. He looked down his nose at her, undeterred by the glare she shot up at him.

There was a hiss of steel being drawn. Your brother’s sword was an elegant thing passed down to the new King when the old died. Golden hilt and flowering carvings that twined up the blade, it gleamed prettily in the lamp light. Despite its deadly point, it had never been used for battle, only a symbolic cementation of status.

What was he…

He tossed the sheath away and its impact rang hollow across the cavernous room. Then he turned away from Abigail, his attention on you.

Instead of blinding pain, you were met with the handle being held towards you. His eyebrows softened, you supposed, in an act of what he believed was familial fondness. If I cannot exploit you as a flower, I will make use of your thorns.

“I believe this victory is yours.”

You had no choice but to take the sword in shaking hands. The surprisingly lightweight hilt felt like fire, burning in your grasp. In all your years, you had only ever gazed upon this ancient relic.

Your brother rested a hand on your shoulder, as if to soothe your nerves. You were a skittish animal, always, in his mind.

“Even a fool can do this if the blade is sharp enough,” he whispered, lullaby-soft. “Get your vengeance, my sweet sister. Honour our blood and let the final image of her life be the throne that she betrayed.”

Your fingers pressed into the cool metal. Abigail’s eyes were trained on you, her mouth parted ever so slightly. You watched as her body shifted. Lungs expanding, throat constricting.

“Now!”

In an instant, disarray seized the room. The clang of armoured bodies sounded everywhere and so too, the squelch and roar of men dying. The resounding whine of the doors being closed and barred. Trapped in the midst of massacre.

You kept your gaze trained on your brother’s face. First, you watched as he recoiled with shock. The curtain-lift of realisation.

Finally, anger.

The hand on your shoulder tightened and bunched the fabric of your nightgown. His teeth were bared and the veins in his throat protruded with rage.

“What have you done?! You spineless little bitch!”

Your brother was wrenched away from you with full force, curses and spittle still flying from his mouth as he was forced onto his knees. Abigail was out of her chains, never completely restrained to begin with, and she eyed you with a tight expression as she held him down.

“What have I done, brother?” Your voice now trembled with the venom of restraint snapping. “I have done what is right. Our people deserve a true ruler, not a coddled man who plays at one.”

A wet laugh bubbled from his mouth, hysteric over the symphony of steel around you. “And you think you have what it takes to be a ruler?” His eyes were open, drinking in the light, wide pools of disdain. “If I am so coddled, what does that make you? Tell me, what do you know of history? Of warfare?

“What are you but a woman? You were raised for marriage,” he continued, his amused mask slipping to reveal the undercurrents of fear that roared within him. “I was raised to be King! This is my birthright and you cannot simply snatch it away!”

“Princess.” Abigail’s voice was stern over your brother’s prattling. A simple reminder.

You stepped closer and watched as he faltered.

“W… Wait and heed my words. There is an order to these things,” he spoke desperately. “Disposing of me won’t alter it. Do you think the masses will warm up to you just because you are soft-hearted? They will still starve and slave their lives away, and they will hate you all the more for your gentleness. See things as I do, sister. When their hunger grows, will they look upon you kindly? You struggle, even now, to hold a sword.

“They won’t view your weakness as benignity.”

Even in the act of begging for his life, he managed to crush you beneath him, like wilted petals in the palm of an enclosed fist. You brought the blade close to your face and inspected each silver bud of jasmine and rose.

“Should I care about whether they view me as strong?” you asked, the cadence of your voice sounding distant and foreign to your own ears. “You forget that within the hour, I will control your army.”

You held out the sword in front of you then, the steel glinting. Your ancestors were right not to use it. It felt like a sin to have to dirty it.

No matter, you supposed. Today, history will be rewritten. With its rebirth, it was inevitable that some traditions would rot. Best to start with this one.

“What was it you told me before? ‘If the blade is sharp enough…’”

The wailing of a man defeated pierced your ears. His eyes were unseeing and yet so filled with despair. He slumped against Abigail’s grip and she let him fall to the ground with a thud.

You loomed over your brother, sword raised over your head.

“Goodbye, dear brother. We will meet again, I’m sure, in the land of the damned.”

It was as clean as the business of death could be. A splash of vermillion against the desolate white. A whimper, followed by cloying silence.

The deed was done.

#gold star reward if u spot the princess mononoke reference #knight!abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson angst #abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #tlou writing #tlou fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #aeot

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hyunsvngs · 2 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?

a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.

It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.

Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.

Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.

As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.

“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again.

“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position.

He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too.

You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”

You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face.

“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You had a plan.

A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.

Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.

You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.

Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.

You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet.

“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”

Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence.

When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”

Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”

“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.

“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”

“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”

“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle.

You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”

After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.

“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”

You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”

“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?”

You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”

Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip.

“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”

This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.

“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”

You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.

“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it.

You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward.

Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage.

You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. “Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”

It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest.

“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”

“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were.

“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”

You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”

“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”

“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”

“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.

“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.

You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.

Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.

Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”

“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips.

You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.

You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.

Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet.

Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top.

He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”

You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”

Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?

You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”

“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“

“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.

Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”

With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.

He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?

“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”

Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”

“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.

“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”

He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”

At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.

“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”

You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”

“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”

“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”

You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind.

Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away.

Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.”

You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“

Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.

Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.

You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly.

“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“

Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”

You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”

“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”

He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.

Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.

“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding.

You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”

Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“

You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.

“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”

Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.

You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.

Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.

“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss.

You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.

“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.

“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.

Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.

“What are you-“

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly.

“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”

Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued.

His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock.

“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.”

You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“

Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”

“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?”

You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”

Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.

“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“

“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.

“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered.

“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”

You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.

“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”

“Shit.” You agreed.

“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable.

“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”

Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.

“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.

Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.

“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”

Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”

“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“

You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.

You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held.

They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.

The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour.

Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.

“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”

“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”

“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”

“Huh?!”

Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”

“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”

Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”

“Yeah.”

He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”

Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”

“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”

“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”

“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”

“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”

Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?”

You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”

Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”

You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?

Wait.

You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying.

It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.

Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.

You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance.

“Are you ready, dear?”

You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”

You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration.

You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.

You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day.

She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.

The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly.

Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”

They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.

Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.

You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.

Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.

He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.

The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”

You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.

In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.

Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?

Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well.

“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”

Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…

Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.

This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”

Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”

You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.

Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.

Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”

You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash.

In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.

You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.

Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you.

Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.

Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.

You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-

The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”

“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort.

“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”

You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”

Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.”

“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas!

After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.

Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-”

You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth.

You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this.

Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”

You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss.

He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.

Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish.

Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.

“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”

“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”

“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.

“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”

You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”

Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.

When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife.

Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.

You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.

“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”

Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could.

Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.”

Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”

You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it.

“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“

You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”

Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”

“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs.

You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so.

With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out.

Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.

“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”

Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.

You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”

Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”

You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”

Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust.

His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"

"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.

“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.

All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”

You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“

You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.

Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin.

There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”

“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.”

“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”

“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”

You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.

You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.

You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-

Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.

You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.

The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes.

You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.

You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.

You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.

“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”

You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?

“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“

“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”

Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”

Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”

She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear.

You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.

You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.

Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.

You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.

“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.

“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.

You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”

“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”

You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”

“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”

“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”

“I’m in love with you.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld . @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad . @queenofthegardengnomes . @boomfrogg . @hoeinthehouse . @msaddictions . @sunnyhonie . @hizliyuruyen . @jyu037 . @jouoy . @drhsthl . @seungincore . @jellylver . @veedoesntknaur . @meloncremesoda . @k-poplv . @livieloo914 . @fekixfmp . @fawnpeaks . @minnielvr . @imastraykidsfan . @hanjisung2023 . @hoelynecujoh . @kyrviu . @sxgeofprohets . @everydreams-penumbra . @chaneomma

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princesssmars · 4 months ago

Text

alone together

a karlach x princess!reader.

in the blink of eye, you go from a carefree heir to a throne to a damsel in distress stuck in a tower. but there's a strange woman stuck with you, and maybe you can make each other a little less lonely.

wc : 8,655

contains: fxf. fem!reader. skin color not described. fluff. some light angst. smut. g!p karlach. oral and penetrative sex.

a/n: fuck that poll i'll do TWO fics for her i never cared! karlach has a little soldier because those bg3 mods have affected my brain and i need her to take me to pound town. sorry i rushed the ending i need this fic out NOW. enjoy :3

throughout history, many tales have been written about the failures of monarchs.

there was thaymor the vain, whose search for everlasting youth to sustain his envied beauty led to him making a deal with faeries for a youth spell, but they didnt tell him he would absorb this youth from his entire family, killing his lineage in only a few short years.

atreyu the acceptable, whose father went from being the hero who defended his village from raiders to the king who turned it into a flourishing kingdom, while the most his son accomplished was developing a new bread recipe in the palace kitchens. to be fair, it was rather tasty. bit too many nuts.

but the one story you loathed the most was cassara the chilled. a young, beautiful, and promising young princess who was locked in her room for nearly half a year as punishment for a false accusation of pushing her brother, the crown heir, down a flight of stairs. in her lonesome and desperation, she had turned to dark magic to sustain herself, and by the time her parents found her, she was a cold and petrified shell. nothing more than a glamorous statue.

you would read these stories in the palace library and, admittedly a bit morbidly, laugh to yourself. your family line was known for its intelligence and charisma, able to control your kingdom with ample care for its citizens and contributing greatly to its numerous advancements.

it'd been this way for decades - so how on earth were your parents so damned stupid?

you had noticed things like this before. the pair of them listening too closely to what citizens had to say while holding court. a few years back a fanatical farmer had told them he saw a sign from one of his gods that unless the kingdom slaughtered half its cows it would be leveled, and the king quickly gave the order. then it was later revealed that the farmer had eaten some contaminated mushrooms he had found on his farm and didnt even worship any gods.

the kingdom ate a lot of chicken that year. some of the court mages used spells to increase the egg output from the livestock to make up for it, which led to you quitting the meat for two years. those magic chickens were...odd.

but besides that, your life was nothing short of amazing. you were the only child and the crown heir, so even though you had the unbearable weight of the heavily bejeweled crown in your future, with all the luxuries you were afforded like dresses, jewelry, lavish balls, and dinners, it was very much worth it.

on a day when you had political tutoring instead of attending court, your parents must have done something to piss someone off, because the next time you came in you'd never seen a citizen have such nerve. it was an old woman dressed in black rags and holding a weird-looking staff, most likely a witch.

your family had no qualms against magic wielders as far as you knew, seeing any amount of help to grow their empire as worthwhile. but that changed when she aimed her stick at your parents and spoke.

"your contempt for life that does not fit your 'purpose' is an affront for everything your kingdom supposedly stands for. a kingdom i helped your ancestors build. and all i asked in return is for you to remember my terms. to not disrespect me after all i've done. but you have failed. and for this you must be punished."

you were going to call her insane, call the guards to seize her and make an example out of anyone who would threaten and say such baseless claims about your family. you had heard the story of how your ancestors built this kingdom from the ground up hundreds of times, and not once was it mentioned that they received help from a witch.

you weren't afforded time to think it over when her staff pointed at you, her gaze making your blood run cold. the trinkets and bones attached to the end of the warped dark stick brimming with glowing tendrils of magic.

"your daughter, such beauty, such grace, such a beacon of what your family stands for," she taunts and moves her head side to side as she mocks you. "i will give you a choice. your daughter or your kingdom."

you scoff at her and the panicked whispers from the commoners and guards around you. this is bullshit. for all you knew she was nothing but a druid playing dress up, most likely hurt that her flower farm was torn up in one of your father's recent expansion projects.

"this is crazy, we all know this is crazy, right?" your head whips to stare at your parents, who won't even look you in the eye. you start to feel sick, refusing to believe for a second that they could actually be considering this. "mother, father!"

your father raises his hand and the room goes quiet. he stands, an imposing figure by himself, and his cloaks and crown make him more so. the family crest glimmers from his chest, a golden dragon with its wings bared. you try to remember what it stands for to quell the fear in your chest.

your family is strong, your family has knowledge that goes beyond others, your family is more powerful than this pathetic pretender-

"please, just...just don't hurt her, we beg."

your eyes strain at the sight of your father, the king, on his knees with his hands clasped together.

he's pleading with her. this woman is threatening your life and he's begging to her.

you only manage to have one last thought before you're enclosed in a cloud of black and feel your body being ripped through space.

your family is fucking stupid.

your new life is far from what you're used to, but you become suspicious of how pampered elisia - the hag - has made everything for you.

you live in a tower, a tall and black and imposing thing that if you weren't a damn hostage you'd probably think thrice about entering. it stood at the top of an abandoned keep you think you'd heard of in another bedtime story, something about an ogre and a damsel…whatever.

elisia had made it extremely clear that there would be no way for you to escape. her magic would keep the place functional while she was gone; the dark halls lit up, kitchen stocked, library filled. but try to navigate the gigantic lower level that led to the exit and you’d end up in an endless loop that left you feeling dizzy enough to give up for the day.

(for good measure the keep was also situated on a crumbling mountain above a pit of actual lava. have to applaud her efficiency.)

but then you asked if she had planned on you going insane, as would eventually happen if you were left here alone.

the sound of her cackle rang in your head for a few days.

‘what makes you think you're alone in here?’

the cloth of your bed was soft, the gentle canopy making you long for the glamorous and full one you'd had at home. but even the mocking familiarity couldn’t rouse you into sleep that night. every tumble of a rock echoed throughout the halls of the prison that was now your home, making vomit rise in your throat as you remembered the witch’s words.

you tried to calm yourself down, convincing yourself she only alluded to another thing being here to scare you. for the first day you tried to follow your daily schedule as well as possible. wake up, clean and dress yourself, eat some breakfast, focus on hobbies and interests, tea in the garden, etcetera.

but to say it was a struggle is an understatement. you forgot how everything was made easier by your maids and lady’s in waiting, having issue with just doing your hair alone. you didn’t even want to begin on breakfast, fighting with the damned bewitched oven and settling for a fruit salad.

and so you stick to reading, it’s not like you need help doing that. it reminds you of when you were younger and your governess would call out “sick” and when a replacement was being prepared you’d wait on the cushy classroom chaise and read and read and read until your eyes started to hurt.

and now you’ve resorted to reading a cookbook. you’re halfway through a recipe for grilled cheese when you hear it, the displacement of rock in the walls and a dull, eerie humming. you feel the goosebumps rise on your skin and try your best not to let your fear show as you pass a quick glance up at the doorway.

and an eye is staring right back at you.

the book falls from your hands and hits the ground with a hard smack, throwing you from holding the eyes gaze as you make sure it’s alright before looking back at the doorway, only to find nothing there.

this is getting weird. and unsettling. and annoying. and so you muster up all the foolish courage you can, pick your dress up by the hem, and chase after the creature.

you recognize it’s not the smartest idea, chasing after something potentially dangerous and definitely stalking you. but if it’s resorted to staring at you from doorways it can’t be prone to violence. hopefully. curse your father for burdening you with his impatience. and dimwittedness, apparently.

whatever the thing is its fucking fast, tucking and weaving around corners almost faster than you can keep up with.

(you mentally thank your fitness educator for making you routinely run laps around the gardens when you became too lazy for your parents liking back when you were twelve. sucks you’ll never see her again, she was always funny.)

the mysterious being messes up and you cheer to yourself when you hear it stop itself from crashing into the wall.

“hah! looks like you’ve-“

gods above you must look like a dunce, panting in the middle of this dark hallway as you stare at the big bad that was staring at you in your entrapment. but it’s not what you expect. it’s not a monster, or a creature, or the angel of death here to free you from the torment of boredom.

it’s a woman. a devil woman. a very large and disturbingly attractive devil woman.

gods above, you’d been involuntarily celibate for far too long.

it’s clear she’s not going to start conversation first, appearing as if she’d rather sink into the walls themselves than explain herself to you.

“are we going to keep staring at each other or are you going to explain why you’re stalking me?”

“i’m not stalking you!” she blurts, clearly annoyed by your accusation. well, if she only responded to being called a pervert you’d just have to deal with that.

“you were standing in the doorway and ogling me as i was reading, sounds pretty stalkerish to me.”

“that’s not- i wasn’t ogling-“

“and you’ve clearly been in here with me a while, i’ve heard that weird humming and seen that light before. why not introduce yourself if you weren’t being a creep?”

“i’m not a stalker! i’m supposed to be here!” her eye twitches and you figured you’ve pushed her far enough to the truth. you didn’t want to annoy her too much, the giant woman looked like she could snap you in half with ease.

no, don’t think about that. stop staring at her muscles. stop it-

maybe she notices your silence or maybe she notices how you are not no politely checking her out, because she takes the infernal axe off her back, - which you hadn’t even noticed, survival skills going down the drain - sets it gently on the ground, and slowly starts to walk towards you.

you try your best not to show weakness or fear as she approaches, clearly trying to show you she doesn’t mean to harm you. she could have easily harmed you earlier when you chased her like a mad woman through the keep, and you start to feel a bit flushed with embarrassment.

“i can kind of explain why i’m here, if you’d like. somewhere more comfortable preferably.”

she leads you back to the kitchen and the whole time your eyes never leave her body, taking in every detail you can to try to piece together her story.

she has numerous scars starting from her face and trailing down her body, the gaps in her leather outfit letting you see the raised veins and literal vents in her arm and shoulder. add the injuries and incredibly well defined muscles together and it’s not hard to figure this woman is no strain her to hard battle, and could easily overpower you if she so desired.

(yet again you have to trample your inner libido at the thought. you need to get out of this place and fast.)

once in the kitchen, you both shit down and you listen as she tells you everything you want to know, answering every question you have without failure.

“what’s your name?”

“karlach. named after my mum. what’s yours?”

“princess y/n of tuquestia. are you a devil?”

“an actual princess, eh? here i thought that old witch was exaggerating. and no, i’m a tiefling. blame the burning skin and engine on that bitch downstairs mizora.”

“mizora? why the hell would you get mixed up with her?”

“i didn’t ask to. it’s a long story. i think your foods burning, love.”

“gods damn it. whatever. why are you here? how long have you been here?”

“guess that wicked witch is old buddies with my devil because they made some bet way back when that if she managed to screw over some kingdom they both hate mizora would give up one of her best soldiers to help her.”

“so what, your an extra ounce of protection to make sure i don’t jump out of a window?”

“guess i am. and please don’t, wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

after an hour of trying to make a simple meal and glaring at karlach whenever she’d tease you, a warmth bloomed in your chest uncaused by the infernal being across from you. until that point you had pondered when the effect of the endless days of loneliness would seep in, when you'd start talking to visions in your mind before slowly going insane.

but now you had karlach. big, loud, always yapping karlach.

you didn't have many friends back home. you had your handmaidens who were respectful but always too careful, brief flings from when you snuck out to the local towns taverns and polite conversations with visiting monarchs and royals. but never a true friend.

so you’re unable to tell if the way karlach acts is…normal. it’s not like she’s just standing behind and watching you as you try to live your life during the day. not that you’d mind that much.

it’s quite the opposite; she’s always talking. maybe it’s because during your first conversation you made a one off comment of resorting to talking to an old teddy bear you’d found in your closet for company, but there doesn’t go a minute where’s she doesn’t just strike up a conversation with you.

she asks what your home is like, how did you grow up, what it was like to be a princess (that ‘was’ stung more than you expected), if you ever had any pets, any friends, a boyfriend.

you’d snorted at that, telling her if there’s one thing you were grateful to your parents for it was respecting your preference for women. she goads you to go on and listens intently to your story of the time you and a neighboring princess got caught in the quite the situation behind one of the curtains at a large gala…

you figure it’s only polite to ask her all of her questions back, and clearly it’s the right option since each time you do her face lights up almost literally and she animatedly explains every little detail of her life and adventures before she got screwed over and stuck in avernus.

and oh, avernus. if there’s one thing to smack you into reality it’s when she finally deems you trustworthy enough to tell you how exactly she’d become one of mizoras best. you were not the least bit surprised that someone like gortash would screw her over.

(you’d only met him once at your parents invitation and faked food poisoning when he had asked you for a dance. karlach laughed so hard at that her fingers scorched the table you were sitting at. it felt in that moment that you’re stomach was even warmer than her.)

but when she explained everything after he gave her up, the pain of being taken from her home, having her heart replaced, turned into a killing machine and mistaken for a devil, your heart ached. all you wanted was to reach out and touch her, to place at least a comforting hand on her shoulder, but another pain she felt was going without contact with anyone because of her engine.

your old sociology instructor would weep in joy if she could see you know, mourning for the life of someone you just met could have had. all you wanted wasnt to escape this tower, or to wear the latest dress made custom by your tailor and drink some of the not sneakily hidden wine in the kitchens stone walls. it’s just to make her feel better.

so you come up with a plan. probably not the smartest one, but the only one that’ll get you results quickly.

you go about the morning as normal. wake up, clean yourself, meet karlach in the kitchen for breakfast. easy peasy.

now there’s just manning up and going through with this. you had told karlach you were making omelets, the tiefling practically bouncing in her seat as she cleaned off her axe while she wanted. as soon as you could tell she was distracted, you raised the vegetable cutting knife to your hand, took on a deep breath, and then-

“fuck!” her head jerked up at your cry, body standing up on automatically as she watched you cradle your hand to your chest and keel over. she goes to place a hand on your back to help you up and see what’s wrong when she stops herself, so close she can nearly feel the fabrics of your dress brush against her skin.

“damn it, princess. um, ok, it’s not too deep, i’ll get you a towel.” she rushes around the kitchen, searching for a piece of cloth to help you with your wound. but once she sees one sitting not even two feet from you by the fireplace, she’s stopped from alerting you by a swooshing air coming in from the hall, specks of magic floating through the air.

“what on earth are you doing?” elisia‘s voice comes out in a screech, looking like a cloud of darkness as her tall frame draped in black cloaks moves into the kitchen with a quickness. she’s just as quick to dig her nails into your wrist and bring your injured hand up to her face, ignoring your whimper that sends a pang of worry into karlach.

“what, are you turning into an idiot like your father? how can you be so inept?”

“ok ok, it was just an accident!”

she spits out a curse in a language you don't understand and drops your wrist, ignoring your grunt of pain. “the whole point of this is for you to be trapped here, not for you to end your life because of pure foolishness.”

her eyes zip to karlach, and you admire how the tiefling doesn't stand down to the hag's piercing gaze, squaring her shoulders almost like she is preparing for a fight.

“you. did you forget about our precious zariel’s little gift?” elisia smiles down at karlach’s chest, which noticeably glows brighter as her frustration rises. “one touch and you could have burned it closed. do you enjoy watching my hostage bleed out on the stone?”

“i don't think making her pass out and likely die from excruciating pain is in your plans either. i can't help her if i can't touch her without endangering her life!”

the echo of her booming voice leads to an eerie silence, both of you waiting for what elisia says next. your eyes meet from across the room, glowing amber trailing down to your hand before you give a quick nod to let her know you’re okay.

elisia groans, tapping her staff on one of the sturdy counters. “fine. what do you need in order to do what you’re here for?”

”i…i need an engine upgrade. just enough to be able to make contact.” you can't help but notice the tick in karlach’s voice, a slight glimmer of hope at just the idea that she’ll be able to touch someone again, even if it’s just you.

“you’ll still be able to use it as protection, yes?”

karlach nods, and after a few seconds of contemplation, the witch wordlessly disappears into a plume of smoke.

“do you think she’ll consider it?” you question, voice strained as the stinging of your palm reaches a new high. in a rush the woman is collecting the things needed to take care of your wound, gesturing for you to sit on top of the table while she helps as much as she can without hurting you further.

“focus on me, yeah? it’ll be over in a second.” she holds a bottle of alcohol over your hand waiting for your confirmation that she can pour it on the slash to sterilize it. you wish you could say you reacted gracefully, but based on her facial reaction it’s safe to assume the sound you cried was anything but pretty. quickly she guides you to dry it off and wrap it in a bandage, a sigh of relief escaping you when the would is properly covered.

“thank you. sorry if i made you worried, didn’t mean to cut so deep. still not very good with knives.”

“of course i worried, you’re - wait, you did this on purpose?”

you give her a sheepish smile as she stares at you in shock, eyes darting from your hand to multiple spots on your face before she bursts into a loud laughter, your body going stark straight from the surprise of her mood shifting so suddenly.

“glad to know i was right about there being something more than air in that head of yours, princess. now i’m aware you’re also crazy.”

“hey, it worked didnt it? now you’ll get your engine upgrade, and you’ll finally be able to touch me.”

“yeah looking forward to wrangling your stubborn ass from trying to find more secret tunnels in your bedroom.”

“i know they exist! what keep doesn’t have a secret tunnel?”

you’re thrown into a playful argument about how she’s certain that secret tunnels that you remembered dearly from your old castle wouldn’t be in every type of royal origin, while you try to persuade her it’s basically an untold law for building a keep.

all the while she’s trying to ignore how the light of the fireplace brings out the warmness of your skin, while you decide not to bring up how to the idea of touching you made her bite her lip and stutter her breath.

karlach gets her upgrade sooner than later, the itch appearing with a nice but scared-looking tiefling who uses a strange-looking metal to fix karalch up. you can tell she's trying to stay calm through the endeavor, not wanting g to risk the poor man due to her excitement. and the whole time you stay by her side, eyes trained on the rather strange way the procedure is done.

but once its done she stands there, almost unable to believe what she hopes to be true. she turns her body to face yours, eyes near begging for either of you to do something when you wrap your arms around her neck and push your body into hers.

and gods, is she warm. like cuddling up with a wool blanket in bed during the chilling midsts of winter. you can tell your sudden act of affection scared her at first, but once she realizes whats happening she wraps her arms around your waist so tightly it feels like shes trying to fuse you into one.

you hear elisia in the back, groaning at the act before leaving with the stranger in a hurry. when their footsteps are no longer heard karlach lifts your body up with ease, twirling you around before setting your body back to the floor.

her chest is having, excitement coursing through her body as flames rise and retreat from the vents in her shoulders.

“i cant believe it. i never thought i would- that you and i could-”

she cuts herself off with the most joyous laugh you've heard from her yet, pulling you into another hug and burying her face into your shoulder, minding not to scratch you with her horn.

its almost adorable how cuddly karlach becomes after that; a giant war fighting barbarian nervously asking if she can receive a random hug in the middle of the day, standing behind you as she makes sure you're following the steps of a recipe you found, even indulging you when you ask for her hands to warm your stomach when your moon week arrives.

only two weeks after her upgrade do you realize that you have feelings for her. maybe you've known for longer, only denying it in the fear that you'd lose the only true friend you'd ever had. even if she didn't return your affections, the reasonable part of you knew she would never turn you down in a harsh way. but you knew yourself, and knew the embarrassment would lead to you distancing yourself from her and ignoring her at any chance possible, which was the opposite of what both of you needed at this time.

you try your hardest not to make it obvious, but when she catches your eyes lingering on her a few times too long she decides she cant ignore it any longer, choosing to finally have that long awaited talk with you before you head to sleep.

she was escorting you from the library back up to your room for the night, gently guiding you with a large palm on your back while your attention was focused on a book you had found deep in the history shelves. it was endearing, how you'd pay little attention to where you were going and nearly trip over a stair before cursing it under your breath.

“i knew you were a bit of a history buff, darling, but you cant exactly learn if you give yourself a concussion.” karlach smiles.

you don't reply, mumbling something about being too engrossed in the text. with a choked back laugh she shakes her head and bends down to pick you up, one arm under your back and the other under your legs. she can see your eyes widen over the edge of the pages before going back to what you were doing. once she reaches your door she not-so-delicately kicks it open before placing you on your bed, bending down to start helping you take off your slippers.

once she's done she starts to look up at you when she takes a quick glance around your room. she’s only been in here a few times, when you’d fall asleep hunched over a tome in the library and she had to gracefully put you in your bed. there isn’t much in here save for the bed and a simple closet. but her eyes catch on the tally’s you’ve been keeping on the wall, inching closer and closer to the three month mark.

she starts to second guess herself. why would you have any feelings other then basic ones of friendship with her, a barbarian ordered to prevent you from leaving a tower you were trapped in? as much as you tried to hide it it was clear how much you missed your home, your parents, the grand lifestyle in which you were raised.

she’s about to make a quick exit after asking if you need anything else when you're doing it again: staring into her soul like you apparently so enjoy doing.

“is there anything else you need, princess?”

you feel a sharp pull below your stomach, not expecting the effect her words would have on your body, only increased by the feel of her large hand still around your ankle, the heat radiating from her and hitting you full force as whatever shes feeling grows in intensity. you gently reach a hand up to feel over the ridges of her cut horn, down to the slit in her eyebrow and the shaved cut of her hair. the whole time she waits, chest rising and falling as she tries to keep her composure while your touch continues its journey down and down until your gentle fingers are grazing over the curve of her nose and her lips.

you finally kiss her, and despite how damned good it feels she can't help but feel bad about how desperately she wants so much more. with all the carefulness she can muster she kisses you deeper, pulling you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are on both sides of her body.

“karlach, please…” you whine out into the quiet room, eyes closed at the bliss of her pressing her body closer to yours, her mouth deciding to start kissing down your throat when you stop kissing her to speak her name. not like she seems to mind, for every time you moan out her nails dig into the fat of your hips through your dress.

“gods, i’m so glad i was right. knew you wanted me, i had hoped you did.” her words are muffled by a quick bite to your throat, her mind going blank at the high pitched moan you let out at the press of her sharp teeth into your skin. she sucks a few more marks into the flesh before dragging her tongue in a line from the bottom of your neck back to your chin, staring into your eyes once she stops.

“clothes. clothes off, now.”

she obeys your demand, standing straight up to start working at her boots before tugging off her shirt like it’ll burn her, your slight giggling doing nothing to help her speed. once she’s done she looks back down at you, rolling her eyes to the sight of you laid pretty on your stomach, arms cushioning your head as you wait for her to undo the basic laces on your dress.

“you really are a spoiled princess, huh?” karlachs deep laugh does nothing to stop the need growing inside you, and neither does the feel of her hands ghosting over your back.

“don’t be mad just because i know my worth, brute.”

you can only let out a gasp when her fingers dig into the fabric and rip it down the middle, yanking the ruined dress out from under you. she waste no time in getting you into the position she wants, spreading your legs apart and pushing you down by the middle of your back.

“if i’m being too rough you’ll tell me, yeah?” you weakly nod your head from its place in your covers, but with a small pinch to the left cheek of your ass you know that was the wrong answer. “give me words, baby.”

“yeah, yes, fuck i will.” you don’t have time to be embarrassed by the desperation in your voice, since as soon as the affirmation leaves your mouth her fingers are spreading apart the lips of your cunt and licking a hard slow line up into you.

if she wasn’t explicitly put inside this keep to keep you safe you would have thought she was trying to kill you in the most euphoric way possible. she eats you like she’s starving and isn’t sure when she’s going to eat again. you then remember that before you the last time she slept with someone else was back when she was free in baldurs gate, so a decades worth of longing and lust has been steadily building inside her body.

and now she’s going to take all of it out on you. the thought just makes more cum run down your legs, eagerly caught by the hot mass of her tongue.

you thought she’d be more talkative but instead she’s laser focused on your center; she spreads you farther and farther to get a better view of you, rubbing at your clit with her wide thumb before pinching it when you wiggle your hips back at her. she ignores your whines in favor for drawing those deep sounds from the inside of your chest when she takes the bud inside her mouth and sucks, pulling roughly until your legs start to shake.

“karlach, fuck ‘m close, ‘m close!”

“that’s it, come on princess, cum for me. cum so i can split you open around me and make you mine.”

and like she’s a god that commands it you do, back arching near painfully as your hands fist the sheets and your throat goes raw with the force of your moan bordering on a scream. the whole time she refuses to slow down, sucking even harder as you cum so hard you fear you’ll pass out.

a minute later your high starts to die down, slick covering your thighs and a light sheen of sweat coating the rest of your body. you knew you’d been pent up these past few weeks with only your hand and pillow for satisfaction, but that was…intense.

you feel karlach pressing light kisses to your backside, leaving more little bites and marks around your hips and up your back. she briefly settles her body on top of yours, and while the weight and feel of her sends fireworks up to your brain and down to your cunt, the warmth of her is making the sweat on your back feel even worse, a pout forming on your lips.

“mmm, you’re hot.”

“glad you noticed.” she laughs, the deep timber of it rumbling through her body and into yours. for a brief second, you think you’d like to feel it for the rest of your life. the thought of it only makes you more desperate, trying to burrow your face deeper into the bed.

“think you can handle another? or does the princess need her bath and rest already?”

with a newfound determination, you try your best to lift her off of you, pushing your hips back into hers in the hopes she’ll feel enough pity to give in and roll off of you. instead, you get the opposite, both of you moaning at the grind of your ass against her groin. and fuck, does she feel big. bigger than you've ever taken, and there were some heavy hitters at the tavern you'd frequently sneak out to. soldiers who were big and strong and looking for a pretty thing to make their troubles go away for the night.

and now you had the upgraded model of all of them combined in front of you, lips still covered in your cum as she stared at your body like she wanted nothing more than to get her hands on it and not let go until she was fully sated. you crane your neck back and up to kiss her, tasting yourself as the two of you share a sweet yet intimate kiss, tongues fighting for dominance before you give up and let her win, hips continuing to buck when her long muscle pushes its way into your mouth and starts to explore.

you can only hold on to your small amount of patience for so long, and karlach starting to suck and bite at your tongue isn't helping in the slightest. your hands desperately reach up to grab at her, any part of her you can reach. you grasp helplessly at her large hand that's gently wrapped around your throat, her claws just barely scratching the sides. she squeezes the tiniest bit and you nearly cum from that alone.

“aw, you’re so desperate for it, aren't you baby?” she chuckles, loosening her grip so you can give a weak ‘mhm’ in response. “tell me what you want and it's yours.”

you tilt your head back farther, big wet eyes staring back at hers and clearly having the desired effect if her lip bite and groan are any indication.

“just want you. want you inside me so badly it hurts.”

in under a second her strong arms are flipping you around like it is nothing, spreading your legs and holding them up for you to hold, your brain instantly following her lead and doing as she intends. while you do that her hands are busy pushing the fabric of her pants down her hips, throwing them to the floor with a huff before she settles back in front of you, staring at you as you stare at her. well, a part of her.

she takes a few seconds to revel in the attention you’re giving her, pretty eyes trailing up and down her body, spread out oh so obediently for her while you willingly give yourself to her to indulge in. she’ll have to remember to tell you how much it means to her in the morning because all she can focus on now is fucking you until the both of you pass out.

and so she fits herself into place, swollen thighs helping to keep yours apart as a red hand goes to align herself with your entrance, catching your eyes again and waiting for your enthusiastic nod before pushing herself inside. you moan at the combination of pleasure and pain, grip on your legs faltering as your head falls back onto the bed. karlach isn’t doing better, moaning at the same time as you at the feeling of finally getting to be inside you.

“gods-fuck,” she groans, pushing her hips further until she’s finally fit her entire length inside of you. you’re given a few moments to adjust, but impatient as ever you buck your hips, whining as despite the fullness it’s still not enough.

she smiles, resting her body on top of yours, throwing your legs over her shoulders, and kisses you before starting to thrust at a speed that makes your eyes cross.

there are no words to describe how it makes you feel, just like there are no words you’re able to speak as she wrecks you oh so beautifully and oh so roughly. the only sounds in the room are the rough plap plap plap’s of her thighs meeting yours, the wet sounds of her length coming in and out of you, and the squeaky moans being exerted from your chest that had your cheeks hot to the touch.

needing to ground yourself you reach out for any part of her you can, fight hand gripping around the thick keratin of her horn. your left can only grip onto the stub of her other one, but as your nails dig into the skin at the bottom of it a loud cry leaves the barbarian as she somehow makes her thrusts hit even deeper.

you can’t even begging to imagine what you look like, the (former?) esteemed and regal crown princess spread out and moaning at the top of your lungs as a blood war fighting tiefling barbarian fucks you six ways into next sunday. but with each passing minute of her dick pressing into that oh so good spot inside of you, you can’t find it in you to care. you deserve this. karlach deserves this.

and gods is it so hot to see how much she takes advantage. she has all the stamina of a titan, only momentarily stopping her brutal pace to make sure your weak legs stay up and apart. if you didn’t know any better you’d think she was in a trance, gaze fixed on the sight between the both of your legs.

with a gentle tug on her horns you bring her head back up to look at you, those beautiful amber eyes droopy as her mouth falls open in another moan. you whine and yank slightly harder, pursing your lips at her confused face when you realize you’re still unable to communicate anything other than squeaks.

she brings her lips to yours so fast your heads bump, both of you giggling into the kiss. despite the continued frenzied movements below its sweet and intimate, a soft and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest as she pulls away and starts to press short kissed to your lips and cheeks.

“feels so good, princess, you’re so damn good.” she pants, resting her head in the crok of your neck. the small bit of praise makes you whine and clench around her, her thrusts stuttering for a moment before she digs her knees harder in the bed to make up for the extra resistance.

“aww, you like that?”

you turn your head in the opposite way out of embarrassment, hoping she’ll drop it and bring her focus back to the view of how her cock gradually comes back sticker each time she pulls out of you. instead she nudges her forehead into your chin, bringing your eyesight back to her.

“you like to act like a brat but you just wanna be all good and pretty for me, don’t you? it’s alright, you can tell me.”

face scrunching, you scratch your fingers again at the stub of her horn and she lets out a mix between a groan and a laugh, quickly hitting her hand down to the apex of your thighs and rub harsh circles on your clit.

“oh fuck, karlach, fuck!” your words are high and slurred, mind going blank at the pleasure she forces onto you. you feebly try to slow her down, gripping around her wrist to try and calm the overwhelming pressure building up. “i can’t, can’t it’s-“

“cmon baby, can talk a bug game but can’t take it? do it for me, yeah?”

she doesn’t wait for your answer, cutting off any potential sass as her finger rubs faster and harder and she tilts her hips ever so slightly upwards so she’s pressing directly into your spot, and in under a minute you’re clenching around her and nearly losing your mind at the sheer force of your orgasm, too blinded by the pleasure to notice karlachs strained keen as her thrusts come to a halt and the warm feeling of her cum flows inside of you.

she allows you to bask in the euphoric peace between sleep and consciousness for a few minutes, pulling herself out of you and gently shushing you at your strained whimper. her fingers brush away some of the stray sweaty hairs from your forehead and pressing sweet pecks to your cheeks.

“need some help, hun?” she asks, already predicting your tired nod. without a hitch she gently picks you up, not wanting to disturb you from the peaceful state you were currently in. with all the grace of a ghost she carries your limp body to the small bathroom, turns on the enchanted tub faucet, and gently placed your in the warm water with her sat behind you.

you go in and out over the next hour. you remember the feel of her rubbing the sweat off of your skin, her gentle praises whispered into your hair, her body warming up your towel to dry you off before tugging your nightgown over your head. when she rests your body on tops of hers on your bed, with the gentle hum of her engine calling you to slumber, your final thought is that you wouldn’t mind staying in this tower a little longer.

for the next few weeks everything is nothing short of perfect. the introduction of romance only brings the two of you closer, never going more than an hour separated. its nice to pretend that the two of you aren’t trapped and are instead two lovers on a really weird vacation, spending your days eating magic food, reading books, and making love before doing it all again the next. day.

elisia surprisingly only visit once, silent as a ghost when she appeared in the doorway of the simple chamber room when karlach had decided to join you on a small couch while you were napping, staring at the both of you silently before huffing and leaving in a plume of smoke.

now, you've always been a deep sleeper, something that worried your parents in infancy but became something they were glad for when they heard comparisons to babies that cried all throughout the night. as soon as your head hit a pillow? it was lights out, your body quickly drifting off into a peaceful slumber until you were ready to arise exactly eight hours later.

when you finally start gaining those first few bits of consciousness you feel floaty, high off of what happened the night before, and your body ready to cuddle up to the warm and cozy tiefling still in bed with you.

but when your fingers extend to the soft sheets next to you they feel nothing. she's not there.

your body jerks up, grasping the shirts to cover your chest in a grasp for self-comfort as you look around your room, which is also empty.

you know logically she’s probably off for a short while to get something to eat or doing her daily rounds around the keep, your brain coming up with any scenario other than ‘regretted last night and left you in the dust.’.

before you can come up with more ways to drive yourself crazy, you can hear faint noises in the distance and below you - metal clashing, grunts of exertion, before the sound of someone hitting the wall so roughly that there's no way they didn't break any bones rouses you from your bed, quickly throwing a robe over your body before rushing down the spiraled stairs.

you let out a shrill shriek when a large airborne object nearly takes your head clean off as soon as your foot touches the last step, heart racing so quickly you fear you’ll pass out. your eyes focus on the space in front of you as you quickly try to figure out what danger has entered your ‘home.’

karlach, dressed only in her small sleeping top and trousers is rigid and staring straight at you, clearly disturbed by your scream and unmoving until your subtle nod lets her know you’re unharmed, she has a few bumps and scrapes including a long bleeding gash on her arm, blood trickling down until it reaches her fingers which are gripped around one of the large kitchen knives.

you don't need to ask what the danger is because it'd be hard to miss it even if you were blind. there's a knight standing just a few feet away from her, donned in shining silver armor and holding a similar shining steel sword. his helmet has been thrown aside to reveal an admittedly dashing face and blonde mane, the stereotypical look of a prince charming.

well. charming until he opens his mouth.

“princess y/n! finally, i have found you! your father the king has been contacting numerous kingdoms to track you down and bring you home safely. don't worry about this beast, i will slay it and you will finally be safe from your captors!”

“oh you want a beast i’ll show you a beast, pretty boy-” karlach moves to attack the knight before you step in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her chest to stop her in her tracks.

“how did you get in here, sir?”

“its sir garrick, your highness…” the man answers, eyes flicking between you and the hand you have on karlachs chest. you don't care to move it, though.

“and how did you get in here? you just.. walked through the drawbridge? no other obstacles?”

he nods. and though its an answer it does nothing to help you or karlach answer the question on your minds.

“do you reckon she’s dead?” karlach asks.

“i doubt we could be that lucky.” you roll your eyes and turn to face her, the woman relaxed at your touch but still on guard because the knight is still staring at the two of you like he just saw an owl bear pick up a lute and start singing. you do suppose this was rather odd, a lost princess found in a tower and gravitating to the giant barbaric tiefling rather than the knight in shining armor.

when you look into karlach’s eyes you can see a glimmer of hope inside of them, just the same as when you revealed your feelings for one another and when she’d tell you her dreams of returning to her home city again in the dead of night.

“well clearly she allowed this guy to get in here, or else he’d probably have a goats head and a cows arse by now-“

“excuse me, what’d you say?”

“which means she might allow us to leave, right? probably with some invisible strings attached?” karlach’s hand lightly grips your waist, her smile wide as she even considers the possibility of the both of you leaving.

and while you try your hardest to outwardly match her enthusiasm, your mind is racing with questions and hypotheticals. this woman had a vendetta against your father, went through the trouble to take one of zariels prized soldiers and have her watch over you day in and day out, and now you could just…walk out?

karlach goes to retrieve some proper clothing while you and the ever-so-confused knight stay where you are, the man thankfully answering every question you have while you wait for your companion to come back. you can tell he desperately wants to ask about your closeness, subtly reminding you that he's been trained to take on large threats in enclosed spaces, even fighting numerous devils in his travels. you ignore it as your mind continues to race with the possibilities of what could happen when you walk through that door, if this is all some sick joke and as soon as you walk through the doorway you’ll throw up your own guts.

but it fades when karlach comes bounding back down, fully geared and with a small bag slung over her shoulder, failing to hide the optimistic smile on her face. her large hand encloses around yours, and you cant help but to return the smile and grip her hand just the slightest bit harder.

“alright pretty boy, show us the way home.”

the knight hurriedly nods and starts towards the entrance. when you reach the large stone door, the one you've stared at so many times with despair in your heart, its indescribable the feeling you have when the sun hits your face and the sounds of birds tweeting fills your ears.

karlach is shaking your hand, smile wide and eyes bright at she looks up at the sky for the first time in a decade. as you start to walk she rambles about all the foods she cant wait to try, visiting her home city again, sleeping in a real bed for once, and all you can think is that you would stick yourself in that tower again just to keep her by your side.

#baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #karlach #karlach cliffgate #bg3 karlach #karlach x reader #karlach cliffgate x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 1 year ago

Text

Storm's End (End I)

HOTD MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader

Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you

Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, talks about abortion, violence, and other very dark things.

+18 MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.1 k

Notes: Here it is! one of the two possible endings! hehe THIS IS THE HAPPY ONE the dark OG one is coming in the next days...

Today was the summit

Aemond thought bitterly, as he woke up and you were not there by his side, he looked towards the window and there you were, sitting there, looking at the ocean through the bars he had installed.

You tended to do that a lot

You barely spoke, you barely moved, you barely eat

And it was not going to improve, no matter how… soft… he had became with you

“Good morning”, he said raising from his bed and walking to you, your eyes looked like the ones of someone who was no longer there, no longer living

You didn’t answer

“Today will be the negotiation for your release”, he said, and that is when, for a second, he saw relief

That settles it then

“I’ll send a maester in, to check you”

If you were with child

You said nothing, you waited until the old man returned

“My lady, if you will”, he asked, signaling to the bed

What you didn’t know, is that regardless of what he found, by order of the Dowager Queen… he was supposed to say only one thing

“She is not with child your grace”, he said to the Prince

The sadness in Aemond’s eyes was priceless to watch, but not the anger that came after

To no surprise, he fucked you roughly

One last time

The summoning of the two fighting monarchs and the all the great lords of the seven Kingdoms took two full moons

Harrenhall was the chosen place for the meeting, in open air, no hiding, no tricks, no nothing

Finally they met, face to face, Rhaenyra and Aegon

“Give me back my daughter”, demanded Rhaenyra, it was the first thing she said, Aemond stood there by his brother unmoving, only a smirk on his face as he saw Luke almost hiding behind Daemon

“How ungrateful sister”, muttered Aegon, amused, “my brother saved your daughter from the wild waters of Shipwreck bay”, Borros had the audacity to laugh at that

“And we saved your cunt of a grandfather from messing with the triarchy, you should thank us, they are not to be trusted”, said Daemon, Aegon giggled childishly

“Very well uncle, so let’s solve this, we have something you want, and you have something that… well, is in our best interest to recuperate”, alicent twisted and turned in her place

Rhaenyra frowned

She wanted her daughter back more than they wanted Otto

All the Lords, the most important men and women of the realm where there

Lannister, Tyrell, HIghtower, Tully, Arryn, Stark, Baratheon.

“We could plunge this Kingdom into war, or we can solve this as adults”, said Rhaenyra

“I agree”, said Aegon, “I’m the male heir, the crown is mine, as simple as that”

“My father, the late King proclaimed me heir, and all these Lord swore allegiance to me”, Alicent, with a deep scowl, shook her head

“To my side, all the lords that will follow my father's King Viserys wish, and proclaim me Queen”, Rhaenyra demanded, Aegon laughed, but stopped as soon as Tyrell, Tully, Arryn, and Stark walked to her side

“The Reach will side with King Aegon”, proclaimed Lord HIghtower

“I’m sorry my Lord Hightower, but you do not rule the Reach”, Lady Tyrell proclaimed, “I do, in the name of my son”, she said firmly, “And we will side with the rightful heir, Queen Rhaenyra”

“Dorne will not dance with dragons”, said another, but still, Rhaenyra had 4 of the Seven Kingdoms, and the majority of the Crownlands

“Before we start the negotiations, I want to see my daughter”, she demanded, “and I’ll let you see your father, Alicent”, she spoke, looking directly at her childhood friend

“We will exchange hostages at the end of this summit”, said Aegon. Rhaenyra looked to her side, where Cregan Stark looked at them angrily

She had offered her daughter’s hand in marriage to the wolf, and he had said yes, he didn’t deter when she told him that she had been taken hostage… she knew Jace had spoken to him, but he still didn’t deter from his determination

Rhanyra kept stealing glances at his half brother Aemond, he wore a smirk on his lips and changes the weight on his feet, his hands grasped behind his back, standing at the right side of Aegon

This was going to be long…

It was three days of negotiations

Three full days until they could reach the next conclusion

Aegon was going to rule from the capital those Kingdoms that wanted to serve him, even though that led to confusion amongst the Reach, and the Crownlands, who were divided

The hostages were going to be exchanged

Much to Aemond’s disagreement

But he said nothing

He himself brought you forwards

He had selected for you to wear a low cut green dress, to humiliate you, to show the most important lords and ladies of the realm the marks he had left on you, hands around your neck, bites in your collarbones, bruises. Rhaenyra whimpered when she saw you, hiding her horrified expression with a hand in her mouth

“Don’t you have a proposition to make to our sister, Aemond?”, asked Aegon mockingly, “to marry our lovely niece?”

The brothers had discussed surrendering the life of his grandfather, in exchange of you marrying Aemond, but he had decided against it

No matter how much he desired you, to have you by his side, he could not accept to go back on his word and marry you

“A bastard is not worthy of marrying a Prince”, he said out loud, shaking you still in his grasp until he made you whine in protest, “And I will not marry spoiled goods”, he continued with a sick smile.

His words stang, and you felt ashamed and embarrassed, your mother was there, right in front of you, and yet, you didn’t even dare to raise your head to look at her, you had been weak and you let her down, you let Aemond defile you, you put her in jeopardy.

Aemond at the same time, looked around and he did not see looks of approval or sarcasm, he saw looks of disgust… Directed at him

Directly at him

Not at you

At him

He was just like his brother

Both Green brothers, rapists, defiling women who did nothing wrong… raping them. He even looked at the eyes of their allies, the Lannsiter and Baratheon and not even them were looking back at him

He release you then, you stumbled forwards and your mother, not caring what other might think, she rushed to enemy lines to catch you in her loving arms, she hugged you tightly against her chest

“I’m here!”, she cried into your ear as she kissed your hair, “my sweet sweet girl, I’m here”, then you hugged her back

“Mama”, you whispered, not believing that she was real, that you were safe now, her characteristic smell, her voice, her hair, the shape of her arms and chest… it was her, you were safe

“My girl”, she repeated, “you are safe now, I got you”, she draw you back to her side, where Daemon and Luke received you with relieved faces, and tight hugs

They in turn, released Otto

Alicent was horrified when she saw the emaciated look on his face, his hair and gotten white, and he couldn’t even mutter a word

The brothers didn’t care enough to do or say something

They had taken your maidenhead

And Rhaenyra took his tongue

A fair exchange they believed

You didn't care for anyone but your mother, father and siblings, who doted on you all the journey back to Dragonstone, all of them, except from Jace

You didn’t know why, but he could barely look at you, and after he expressed his relief that you were alright and safe, he chose to stay far from your sight

It pained you, but you didn't push it

You were home

You actually cried when you saw the castle in the horizon

And you did what you could best to not think of Aemond

He had fucked you that last time and then he took you to the summit himself on his dragon, he never spoke a word to you again.

And the maester had said you were not with child, so, why did you felt so terrible? your breasts were tender and you wanted to throw up

At first you thought it was because of how nervous you were

But when you were safe, on firm land, in Dragonstone… And the nausea didn’t leave you

You didn’t tell your mother, yet, she called a maester into your rooms, to check on you either way…

Turns out… the maester from King’s Landing was wrong… you were indeed with child

You said nothing, you didn't spoke much either way, but Rhaenyra sat by your side on the bed and hold you, caressed your hair, and whispered words of encouragement

“Everything is going to be alright my sweet girl, don't you worry”, she assured you, as she rose from the bed to talk to Maester Munkun

“She is too far along your grace, almost three moons, any attempts against the child in the princess’ belly could have dire consequences on her”, you heard him say

“Are you sure?”, you asked softly, the Maester, who should be offended, only smiled softly at you

“I never miss pregnancies your grace”, he said softly

Why didn’t the Maester of King’s Landing miss it? Perhaps he did on purpose

For Aemond to let you go…

The maester left after giving your mother some instructions, and she looked at you, trying to analyze the calm expression on your face

“Darling… are you alright?”, she asked softly, you only nodded

“The maester in King's Landing lied mom”, you said softly, “he said that i’m not with child, I gather he said so, so Aemond would let me go”, you explained

“Much likely, yes”, she said softly, she returned to your side, sitting by your side on the bed, “my darling, I will find someone you will marry, it is imperative..”

“I don’t want to get married”, you whined looking back at her, she tried to smile, but the concern in her face…

“My love, your child… if you don’t marry…”, you placed your hand on your lower belly

“But you are Queen”, you said softly, “you can have him or her legitimized”, she smiled softly

“Yes I can, and I will do that, if that is what you desire”, she said, her uneasy gaze on you at all times

“I do not think I can handle a man… touching me… yet”, you explained, and she nodded quickly, she grabbed your hands, you did not reject her touch, you could never, if anything, made you feel better, it grounded you, soothed you

She was concerned for you, you could tell, but you still didn’t know what to say

“I need to know you are alright with this”, she said softly

“I am”, you said softly

You were just glad to be home, you were just glad that since you were with your family, you didn’t have nightmares, and if you didn’t look into the mirror… you were fine because the bruises and pain Aemond has caused you was diminishing by day…

And the child, well, you supposed you were accustomed to the idea since the first time he had you, it is what happened, and even though a week ago that maester had said you were not with child, in the bottom of your heart, you didn’t believe him anyways.

And your calmness seemed to unnerve your mother

“I’ll leave, if you need anything”

“I’m fine mama”, you said, smiling encouragingly, she barely nodded, and left you

She left you, it was a beautiful day when you looked out the window and you decided you were going to read by it, a book of legends about love and knights….

But Luke entered your room after a few hours

“Aemond showed me the letter you send him”, you said smiling widely, you rose from your seat and embraced your brother, he hugged you back, “You tried to recuperate me, my brave little brother”

“It wasn’t enough”, he lamented

“Yes it was”, you said gently, you released him, and he smiled at you

“I thought you’d like some company”

Since you arrived a couple of days ago, you didn't want to leave your rooms

“You thought right”, you smiled, and you both both sat at the wooden table in the corner of the room

“I heard mother say… are you with child?”, he asked softly, you nodded

“Yes I am”

“Does he… know?”, you shook your head

“And we have to keep it that way Luke”, you said back, “He can’t know”

“I think is safe to say, you are safe here, the greens have no friends amongst us”, he said, and you nodded

“How is Jace?”, you asked, he frowned

“He is… sorry he hasn't been here to see you”

“No he is not”, you said

“He is angry”, he assumed, “very angry, and he doesn't know who to be angry with… “

“He has always been a bit hot headed”, you said gently, “the blood of the dragon and all”. You missed your brother

“He is angry at the situation, not at you”, he said softly

Lucerys left you when the sun hid in the horizon…. and at night, Jace has decided to pay you a visit, as you thought, he was angry… very angry

“Is it true?”, he asked, you only looked at him from your bed, “you are pregnant with his bastard?” he asked then, you whimpered, the manner he spoke to you… so angrily, reminded you of Aemond

“Yes Jace…”, you said softly and he growled, frustrated

“How could you…?”

“There is nothing we can do”, you explained softly

“Why are you so calm? about everything? he raped you! tortured you”

“Yes he did jace”

“He ruined your life”

“I know”, you said softly

“Do you know what we had to do to prevent Daemon from burning King’s Landing to the ground? he took all his anger and rage on…”

“Otto Hightower I gather”, you muttered

“WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING CALM?!”, Lucerys was right he was not angry at you, he was angry at the situation, he was as you should be

“There is nothing we can do, its done, Jace, I’m here with you, I’m safe again, its over”, you said, and he finally calmed himself down, looking at you wide eyed

And then… he exploded

He cried, your older brother, eighteen year old, cried right then and there in front of you, wept, as he fell by your side and hugged you tightly

“I was so scared”, he whined, and you could only caress his dark hairs and shush him, “that he was going to… kill you…”

“We cannot hold this hate in our hearts Jace, look at what it did to him”, you whispered, “we have to forgive and forget or else, it going to eat us alive”

. . .

Moons passed

Five more, to be exact, and your belly had grown, as much as your excitement.

At first, you were scared, very scared, frightened, but everything changed once you started feeling him or her, moving inside of you, kicking you softly, you started feeling curious about your child, who was going to look like

You really hoped it was a girl, so she could keep you company, but at the same time, you stated feeling scared if she was a girl

The world hurt little girls

It was better if he was a boy, but if he was… he was going to be teased for being a bastard, mistreated even…

You were conflicted

What you did know though, is that it was going to be so so loved, his uncles and aunties, Rhaena and Baela, your mother, Viserys and Aegon, Dameon, were going to love him or her, so so much

You mother was going to declare her or him legitimate, she was going to be a Targaryen, that is all that mattered

Luke wouldn’t part your side and consequently, neither did Rhaena, they were your rock

Your mother as well, but she couldn’t help but look sadly at you

And Daemon? as Jace, he found trouble having his own peace, at some point, he even blamed himself for not burning the Greens sooner.

But you had made your piece

When you were finishing your 8th moon, Cregan Stark came to Dragonstone

You were greatly surprised when on his second day, he asked for an audience with you

You sat in the great hall nervously, you were to have chaperones, Luke and Jace, but still, you got so nervous when the imposing man entered the hall at Jace’s side

“There she is”, said Jace with a nervous smile

“Here I am”, you said, you didn’t dare to stand, the table hiding your belly

“Your grace, your beauty is greater than the songs they sing”, he said, he was handsome, young, tall and broad, pitch black hair, and piercing gray eyes, his fur cape only help to enlarge his figure

“You are too kind”, you said softly

He looked at your brother strangely, they got the hint, and they walked away, directing their attention elsewhere

“I wanted an audience with you because, when prince Jacaerys flied North to seek my alliance, in said alliance, there was a promise for your hand”

“Yes my Lord, I’m aware”, you muttered, he was there at the summit, he had witnessed and saw what Aemond did to you, everyone knew and was witness to it

“I expressed your mother the Queen of my desires to continued said alliance”, he said firmly, but with a gentle smile

He wanted to marry you

“My lord…”, you started

“I know many things have happened in between, but my desire hasn't diminished… I…” you stood up from the table, revealing your pregnant belly to him, he got quiet all of a sudden

“I’m very sorry my lord, it would have been the joy of my life, but.. as you can see, I am not the maiden my brother promised almost a year ago I… I’m afraid I’m spoiled now… I’m expecting a child…”, Jace turn to look at you, white as paper

Cregan was not surprised, he looked like he expected it

“That is fine, your grace, because… I also have a child, my heir, a sweet boy of four name days, Rickon… if I may be so forward, he needs a sweet, good mother figure, and your child will need, in turn…”, you smiled

“I’m spoiled goods My Lord”, you said smiling sadly, he went forwards, his closeness didn’t scared you, he took the liberty of grabbing your hand

“You are not goods, my lovely, you are a princess, and I’m going to love and care for your child, as I’m sure you are going to love and care for mine”, he said, with such conviction in his eyes, “someday we might even… have some children of our own, only if you so please to”

“What are the Lords and Ladies of the North going to say?”, you asked then

“I’ve been away from my home long enough so nobody will ask many questions”, he said gently

“May I have a couple of days to think about it?”, you asked, smiling at him, he smiled

“Of course”, he leaned in and kissed your hand

it was a tough decision, not like you had too much to think about

You were lucky, terribly Lucky that the third most powerful man in the Kingdoms wanted to marry YOU, pregnant and all, but on the other side, the thought of leaving your home broke your heart

You wanted to be home, with your mother and father, and siblings

You knew you could be happy here

Aemond had married a Baratheon, not that you cared, he had been exiled to the Storm’s End, you knew because Daemon had mocked in at dinner

Thanks to Mysaria you had ears and eyes all over the Kingdoms

You wondered if they had to

If they knew you were expecting his child

You wondered what would happen when he finds out because, he said clearly he was not going to let you go

But you didn't care, you were safe

Whatever you chose, you were going to be fine

Cregan soothed you, and he had express that you had until the baby was born to make a decision

So you spend the last moon of your pregnancy in company of your family

. . .

“Push, my sweet girl”, cried your mother, kissing your sweaty temple

“AARRRGGHHHHH!”, a scream ripped your throat as you did, with all strength, pushed as hard as you could

“I can see the head sweet princess, just one more”, said the Midwife sweetly

“AHHH FUCK CUNT BITCH!”, you cursed all the words in the books, you swore you could hear Daemon laugh at the other side of the door

And then, a feeling of relief, the midwives cheered and then

The cry of your child

“It’s a boy, your grace! kicking like a horse, strong like one too”, your mother laughed, relieved, and so did you

It was short minutes and then they placed your clean baby in your awaiting arms

He was so small, tiny, with silver hair and red face, he was crying loudly, a good set of lungs in him

“My son”, you said triumphantly

It was some hours later, after they cleaned you and ready you, that your mother allowed people to come and see you, Lucerys was the first one inside

You passed your sleeping son into his arms

“He is so small!”, he said with a wide smile, “what’s his name?”, he asked

“Aerion”, you answered with a wide smile

your entire family entered the room to gaze at your son, over Luke’s shoulder

“He’s got my nose”, said Daemon, all of them laughed, including you

“But he has my eyes”, said Rhaenyra

“the blood of the Dragon runs thick on him”

Even Corlys and Rhaenys entered the room to see your baby

“He's just gorgeous!”, cooed Rhaenys, taking him in her arms and cradling him against her chest, “you are going to be a real dragon rider, aren’t you? you are going to claim Vermithor! or Silverwing”

“I want him to take the Velaryon name”, said Corlys, “like you, my sweet girl”, you smiled, your eyes filled with tears

“Really?”, you cried

“Of course”

Despite everything, and even though you had been through hell… You know you were going to be alright

You had your family, you had your son who you needed to be strong for

You were safe

You were fine

It took you five moons to realize it, to sleep through the night, not to wake, alarmed, thinking he was going to enter your rooms to choke you and rape you

That you were fine

That you were never going not see him again

That he was never going to see YOUR son

With Cregan…

You accepted to Marry Cregan, you married in a Valyrian ceremony after you recuperated form giving birth, and when you reached Winterfell, you married there again, in the Godswood

He gave you space, and won your trust a little step at a time, no even a year in, an you shared your chambers and your bed with him, he had been so incredible patient, you fell in love with him, as with his son, who accepted you as his mother

Cregan took your son in, a dragon hatched in his crib, to everyone’s surprise

After two years, to gave birth to a little girl, with dark hair and lilac eyes, and a year later a set of twin boys

You never saw Aemond again, he never saw your son, you didn't even knew if he knew about his existence

But he knew, he knew and he spend the rest of his life tortured

He married Floris Baratheon but it was an unhappy marriage, he didn’t manage to give her children, and she hated him for it

He of course blamed her

He never forgot about you

In Dragonstone...

You decided to stay home with your child, to be raised with his baby dragon in Dragonstone, he grew up loved and cared for, by all your family

Jace married Baela, Luke married Rhaena, and you were there to see it

Eventually, when Aerion was three, you fell in love with the second son of House Celtigar, who had come to court to serve your mother, you married, and lived happily in Dragonstone with him…

Aemond never saw your child or you again, but he demanded Larys for information every day, for the rest of his life, he could only hear how your son was great with the sword, smart and cunning, a great dragon rider, a perfect prince, without him.

THE END

taglist!

@lightdragonrayne @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @twobluejeans @toodlesxcuddles @sassysaxsolo @thearchitectoflove @maidmerrymint @floralsightings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @glendarollitkatharinesanders @ruhjkie @starkjedi @baconturtle @aleemendoza2425-blog @ahristata @dlwlrmas-world @yentroucnagol @hiraethrhapsody @alwaysholymilkshake @marihoneywk @belladonna00 @strangersunghoon @anehkael @t0uch-starved-h0e @hkmultifandom @letmehavemyfictionalmen @belcalis9503 @daddydaemonswife @daemontargaryenwhore @bash1018 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @ninastyless @strangersunghoon @bellstwd @yoshiplush

#misguidedstorm #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hbo house of the dragon

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rancidpancakebatter · 1 year ago

Text

Picnics at Sunset - [L Lawliet]

Pairings: L (Death Note) x Female!Reader

Summary: You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Word Count: 14k words

Content: Swearing, Mentions of death, nudity?, friends to lovers, first kiss, Use of Celcius, touch of angst (it's death Note, come on), Sappy thoughts of love

( Masterlist )

A/N: I have so much to say, but I'll try to keep it brief. I'm sorry this is so long, but so much of this show cuts to long internal dialogues within a conversation, and I tried to capture that. I think I did well, but it is a little long-winded. I don't know if I'll do a lot of writing for this character, but he got stuck in my head recently, and this was the only way I knew to let him go.

You sat at your desk, the computer screen you had been staring at for the past three hours was beginning to hurt your head. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes; then silently cursing as you felt your mascara smear against the pads of your fingers. You needed a break and something other than a slice of cake in your stomach. You looked to your right out of habit, ready to tell your friend that you were taking a break and he should do the same, but his chair was empty.

You looked around the room.

“He stepped outside,” a voice said.

Behind you was Matsuda. You jumped when he spoke, not realising he was there, and he apologised for startling you.

“Yeah, we should get you a bell,” you suggested.

“Yeah, maybe so.” Matsuda laughed. “You know, if you want to bounce ideas off of someone, you can talk to me. I know I can’t come close to Ryusaki’s intelligence, but I’d like to think I have something to offer.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “I didn’t really need anything from him, just wanted to see what he was up to.”

“Well, I think he just needed some space to think. You know how he is.”

“That I do,” You agreed, “And I know If he wants to be alone, he’ll have no problem telling me himself.”

Matsuda laughed again, “I’m sure you’re right. But I have a feeling he won’t shoo you away. He has a soft spot for you.”

Just the idea of L turning you away had you put out. You crossed your arms, turning away with a huff. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

You heard Matsuda chuckling behind you, wishing you luck.

You marched up the stairs, down the hall, and got in the elevator, heading for the roof. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but admire the walls around you. The building L designed was quite impressive. You greatly enjoyed the glass elevator, preferring it over any others. Once you passed the tenth floor, the city could be seen. You were usually greeted by blinding sun and clear blue skies, but today, the sky was an enchanting apricot colour, blanketed by thick pink clouds heavy with rain. The sun was peaking from behind the silver buildings as if waiting to see you before finally saying goodbye. You waved to the people below, wishing them well on their oblivious wayfaring.

Soon you reached the top floor, and you pushed open the door to get to the roof access. The door to the roof was already opened, so you called out.

“Ryusaki! You out there?”

You were greeted by silence and tried again.

“I’m alone!”

Only then did you get a reply, “Did you bring any food?”

You chuckled, stepping out onto the roof. “No, I’m sorry.”

L stood out in the open, basking in the fading light and staring at the sky, unbothered by the cold air blowing. He was slouched over and hands firmly in his pockets. He turned his head to you, and the vibrant sky poured over his pale skin, drenching the soft canvas in the colours of monarchs and sunflowers. The light danced around his prominent eyes, flames in a ring of stone. His lips looked kissed by a dreamsicle. You looked away, finding your way back to reality.

“Did you want me to go back and get something?” You offered, throwing your thumb back towards the door.

“No,” He said, turning back to the sun, “Watari should be up soon.”

Before you could question, you heard the door open and close and the clinking sound of plates as they made their way up the stairs.

“Hello, dear,” The old man greeted with a smile.

He carried a tray with a full tea set in one hand and a wicker basket in the other, with a blanket draped across his arm. You watched as he laid it out on the ground, pulling plates and silverware from the basket along with a candelabra. Ryuga settled himself as Watari lit the candles, then gestured for you to do the same. The only clear spot to sit was right beside him, and you took it as gracefully as possible.

“I have brought sandwiches and various tea cakes,” Watari explained, “along with Keemun Mao Feng tea and honey. I hope you enjoy.”

You both thanked him and he left, closing the roof exit behind him. L sat, perching next to you, watching as you admired the display.

“It’s all my favourites,” You observed. “Why did you ask him to bring this?”

His thumb came to rest on his lip, gauging your reaction.

“I knew you would be getting hungry soon. I told Watari to bring some acceptable food if you didn’t grab any on your way up.”

You furrowed your brows in innocent confusion, “How did you know I’d come?”

His head turned away and you notice his feet shuffling, a tell for his anxiety.

“You always do.” He said with a shrug.

Your heart thumped affectionately as he turned his head, and your gaze fell back onto the band of sterling silver in his eyes. You smiled fondly at the man, and he had to look away. He busied himself with the basket, pulling out nicely wrapped sandwiches in brown butcher paper. He read the options out for you and passed you your selections. He then reached in and pulled out a white box with a blue bow. He began to tug at it, then stopped, offering it to you.

You giggled, unravelling the satin ribbon. When he pulled off the lid, a tiered display stand stood with ten layers of tiny cakes with an array of colours, creams, and toppings. L looked over the selection with a careful eye, then chose a spongy square with a raspberry on top. He pinched it between his fingers and brought it to his lips. You watched his selection process as you braided the ribbon into a piece of your hair, presenting it to your friend with a smile. He nodded in approval, and then you finally took a bite of your sandwich, moaning as the myriad of flavours filled your senses.

“Oh my god, this is delicious,” you said, pushing it towards Ryusaki, “You’ve gotta try it.”

His chewing stops as he eyes the sandwich in front of him like it were a loaded gun.

“I’m okay.” He said politely.

You accepted his dismissal, taking another bite from your sandwich, but still curious about it.

“Why don’t you eat anything but sugar?” You asked through a mouthful of sourdough.

“Well,” Ryusaki began, “Desserts tend to be more homogeneous in texture and taste. I find most ‘real’ food reduces my deductive skills by approximately twenty-five percent.”

You looked up at the beauty of the ending day around you and breathed in the air of the city.

“Do you need your deductive skills right now?” You asked softly, eyes still trained on the sky.

Moments passed in peaceful silence. You could hear a dog barking and the mummer of the life teeming below you. People going about their everyday lives, despite the horror of this new world. You tried to join them now and then, encouraging Ryusaki to do the same– to have a life outside of, despite of Kira. From your peripherals, you saw him spread his knees apart, sitting in a cross-legged position. You watched as he continued adjusting, trying to find a comfortable position. When he settled, you turned your eyes to his.

“Would you like some tea?” You asked.

He nodded his head, and you poured him half a cup from the teapot, filling the rest with cream and sugar, just the way he liked it. He thanked you when you passed it to him, fingers brushing briefly. You could tell he was a little uncomfortable, probably much more in tune with the “loss of thought” he was experiencing than any other person would be. He held his cup in both hands, elbows resting on his knees as he looked into the wheat-coloured drink. You left L to his thoughts, knowing he would share them if he deemed them important. You instead focused on tucking the rest of your sandwich away, opening another to try. You were happy Watari cared enough to cut them into little triangles.

“What are your plans after the Kira case?”

You nearly choked on your sandwich, not expecting the question. You wiped at your mouth with a napkin, trying to grab your composure.

“I haven’t given much thought to it,” you said, “but I know it will be a bittersweet moment when we catch him.”

Ryuga sat up a little, his interest piqued as he took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” you began, “I’ve met a lot of great people by working on this investigation. I don’t imagine our paths will cross much once this is all resolved, even if we do survive. But it makes me happy to think that one day they’ll get to walk into their front doors and hug their families without the fear of them being ripped away as collateral damage.”

“Not to mention,” You continued, “at the risk of sounding selfish, this job has some really nice perks. I’m compensated well, I get free room and board, I haven’t done my own laundry in four months, and I can even get company-provided gourmet picnics on the rooftop. There’s a lot to miss.”

“I must admit, I will miss the camaraderie,” L said softly. “But I fear the fallout from Kira’s arrest more.”

You knew what he meant. If he was right, and Light and Misa were Kira and The Second Kira, then it would destroy the task force. Matsuda’s heart would shatter, as would Mogi’s, though he’d hide it better than the former. Chief Yagami would likely suffer another heart attack, or perhaps snap entirely. And while you yourself didn’t want to believe it, you couldn’t deny what you knew was true. With the proof of shinigami's existence and an otherworldly murder weapon disguised as a harmless notebook downstairs, nothing could be ruled out. You questioned what other powers came with the notebook, and how those powers transferred.

Bribing Ryuke into answering all your questions was easy enough. It turns out he had never known the taste of a Fuji apple, only enjoying the common red delicious. One was enough to get him hooked. You presented everything you had learned about ownership of the notebook, how it can be passed, and how it affects the user. You and L had come to the same conclusion: sometime in Light’s confinement, he transferred ownership, as did Misa. You knew for sure when Misa visited Light the other day in the lobby.

At the beginning of the investigation, he refused to toy with her emotions, as it went against his code. And you found it comforting, knowing Kira would have no problem doing that, and Light was immediately opposed. For months, he made no effort to show affection to Misa, rebuffing any advance or innuendo she made, but you watched as he brought her into a hug. You watched as she melted into it, savouring the sparring touch and every word he whispered into her ear. You knew he hadn’t magically fallen in love with the girl, but was using the love she had for him.

Yes, Light had changed, and the repercussions were terrifying.

Ryusaki was silent. By now, the sun had set, and the moon began climbing up a ladder of stars. The candlelight flickered, making shadows jump and jive across your friend’s face. The shifts were jarring, but the gentle lighting softened his hardened edges. Your eyes traced the slope of his nose, down his plush lips, and his long neck. You wished to stretch out a curious finger to replace your itinerant eyes.

“Would you like a cake?” Ryusaki asked, changing the subject. You allowed the distraction, deciding you would bring it up again later, but not know.

You selected one with orange filling and chocolate drizzle. It was delicious, falling apart in your fingers as you ate it. You heard a soft chuckle leave your friend's mouth and you looked up at him confused. He said nothing, instead motioning towards his face. You tilted your head, not understanding what he meant. Before you could ask, L brought a napkin to the corner of your mouth, gently rubbing it across your bottom lip.

Your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped breathing. His touch was like the flames of the flickering candles, igniting the skin he polished. His eyes flicked up to yours and you were lost in a pool of obsidian, his pupils vast in the stary night.

“There,” he said softly, “all gone.”

You searched for your voice, and it came out in a breathy whisper, “Thanks.”

He continued, unbothered by the unprecedented physical contact while you took a sip of your tea, in hopes that would help your unsteady heart. Before you had much time to recover, He spoke again.

“My favourite colour is blue.”

You blinked dumbly, at the man as he readjusted uncomfortably.

“My favourite cake is Strawberry Vanilla Sponge Cake,” He continued, “and I sing in the shower.”

You laughed out of shock, and words continued to spill from his mouth like he couldn’t stop them.

“If I could have a superpower, I would want invisibility. I think four-leaf clovers are ridiculously overblown, but I admire their inherent whimsy. I really like The Beatles, which is very embarrassing as I am British. But even more so because I listen to ‘We Can Work It Out’ when I get frustrated. They bring me a sort of comfort. I’ve always wanted a cat. I think it’s funny when they’re given people names, or named after ridiculous things. If I had one, I’d get a tuxedo cat and name it 3,4,4,5-tetramethylcyclohexa-2,5-dien-1-one.” You open your mouth to ask what that was, but he answered it before you could, “It’s a cyclic dienone, more commonly known as penguinone, and though it has no applicable uses, it’s funny.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his sudden urge to tell you all of these things. In his unblinking eyes, you saw something close to desperation and it confused you, forcing you to look away. You missed the way Ryusaki’s face fell.

“Are you…upset?” he asked cautiously. “I’m sorry if I overshared.”

“No, no,” You reassured, trying to alleviate some of the guilt that filled your chest at his apprehension. “I’m just confused”

“I was trying to establish trust,” he explained cooly.

Your brows furrowed, “Do you think I don’t trust you?”

“No, I-” he paused, releasing a sigh that moved his shoulders.

“Ignore me,” he said sadly, “Nothing I say lately seems to make much sense.”

Your heart shattered at the uncertainty in his voice. He usually spoke with such conviction. To hear him unsure, insecure in sensibility– his intelligence, really –it made you nauseous.

“Ryusaki,” you began, but he looked away.

“Ryusaki,” you tried again, this time resting a hand on his shoulder, “your sense is still very intact. You’re not the crazy one.”

He looked at your hand, where it rested without hesitancy.

“Look,” you continued, “Someone is trying to kill you. And it could very likely be your best friend. You’re making more sense than anyone else would in your situation.”

Suddenly his eyes shot to yours. There was a small fire burning there, and you worried that you had upset him. You began to remove your hand, but he rested his on yours, keeping it pressed against his shoulder. Your heart leapt at the contact, and you prayed he didn’t notice. Though, if you knew anything about Ryusaki, he did and already tucked it away as useful information.

“Light Yagami is not my best friend.” He said simply, “You are.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that sprouted from the sentiment.

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Of course, I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Your smile grew more teasing, “But you didn’t even chain yourself to me.”

L smiled too, “I didn’t have to.”

Time passed in silence. It was a bit awkward, your hand remained on his shoulder as the candles burned. You were getting chilly, the night air nipping at you through your t-shirt. L’s hand kept yours still, you were much too nervous to move it away. Especially when you could see your friend thinking very hard.

He suddenly turned toward you, removing his hand and jostling yours. His thumb came to his lip, running it across and moving the muscle.

“There are a lot of social customs that I haven’t gotten to participate in, due to my isolated childhood, and even more so because of my dangerous career,” he said, “for instance, I had never had friends until this investigation, and now I have three. But that also means I haven’t experienced a lot of the common experiences that come with friendship.”

He looked you over, trying to gauge your reaction thus far. You seemed at ease but attentive. His eyes darted to the blue streak in your hair, and felt a warmth blossoming in his chest. He was amazed by how light-hearted you could be, despite the heavy burdens you carried. You shone so brightly, he was almost embarrassed to ask you to share.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to help me with that. I think it’s important to my development, and general understanding of the human condition.”

You were delighted to hear that he was thinking about such “trivial” things. As you became closer to L, you quickly realised that he lived a very lonely life. You could tell he had convinced himself that was what he wanted, but you knew a life of work wasn’t enough, and he deserved more. You always encouraged him to take care of more than his brain; to value his body and his spirit as well.

“Of course L,” you nearly cheered, “what did you have in mind?”

You waited patiently for his response, trying your best not to shrink under his gaze. You were sure that his eyes were a large reason as to why he made such a great detective. When he focused his eyes on someone, it made them feel see-through; like he could see everything that made up that person. Like he could read your thoughts.

“Can I-“ he began, then stopped. It was rare to see him trip over his words. “I would like- would it be okay if we hugged?”

Lightning struck across the sky, and you flinched, startled by the sound. You looked up into the dark, trying to find the flash of light you knew was long gone. You spotted the thick, rolling clouds hovering above you, and you hadn’t noticed before. Then the thunder rumbled, and the cry was resonant, penetrating your bones as it rolled through you. Then slowly, rain began falling from the sky. A few drops landed on your face, and you could feel them beginning to stick to your clothes.

When your shock faded away, you looked back at your friend. He was looking at you intently, hunched over like always. You opened your mouth to respond, but L spoke before you.

“Let’s step inside,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder like you had before, “you’re shivering.”

You hadn’t realised that you were, but as you looked down at your hands, you couldn’t deny the tremble. He stood and began packing up everything on the blanket, refusing your help when you offered even though the rain had picked up. It was steady now, easily soaking through your clothes and his in turn. Once everything was tucked away, he guided you inside, opening the door for you.

As you walked down the steps, your mind spun around his words. He had asked to hug you, someone who you thought would be pretty averse to physical touch. You were surprised he let you lay a hand on him at all, and even more surprised when he reciprocated the action. It could’ve just been an experiment, a test to see how it made him feel, but you found yourself reviewing your own results.

You hadn’t really touched L before. There was no reason to. Even when he fell out of his chair over the whole “Shinigami” thing, you let the others crowd him. Your hands had maybe brushed here and there when passing sweets or documents, but intentional, prolonged contact was never made until today. You couldn’t deny his behaviour had been odd lately, though that was to be expected with the stress he was under. You wondered if he was indulging out of curiosity or a fear of missing out on life.

You jumped again as another bolt of lightning struck across the sky, followed by the soft beginnings of rain, now slowly collecting on the glass walls around you. You began walking down the hall and jerked your head to beckon Ryusaki, who seemed deep in thought. You watched the rain grow, drops colliding and running down the glass. You stopped to trace the tracks left, your body shuttering against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” your friend spoke quietly, as there was no one but you here, and no reason to raise a voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You looked at him with shock, but he refused to look at you.

“Ryusaki, I haven’t felt uncomfortable around you since we started this investigation. Why would that change now?” When he didn’t respond, you bumped his shoulder with yours, “Seriously though, if you ever do make me uncomfortable, I won’t let you live it down.”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You both continued to stare off into the distance in silence. You began breathing out hot puffs of air and drawing in the condensation. Meaningless shapes littered the space as you got lost in your thoughts.

You felt stuck between knowing and knowing nothing. You knew that You cared for Ryusaki very much. You knew you trusted him with your life, and you always felt better when he was around. You knew that you desired his attention and approval more than anyone else’s. You knew that he was beautiful and kind. But you didn’t know if he felt any of those things about you. You didn’t know what those things meant. Or rather, you feared what they could mean, and what that would do to the both of you.

Your thoughts were interrupted once again when you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you looked down to see pale, slender hands embellished with tendons and glistening in the light. Your jaw dropped slightly, seeing him appear so close behind you in your shared reflection.

“You’re still shivering.” He didn’t look at you, his eyes obscured by his shaggy hair, “A blanket should help.”

You offered a kind, timid smile in thanks, turning to face him. Your cheeks filled with blood though you couldn’t quite pin down why. Maybe it was just because he was touching you again when he’s never really done that before. Or maybe it was the fact that he was concerned about you. Or maybe it was the intimacy of it all, how close he was and how gentle his touch was.

His hallowed, all-seeing eyes met yours and you lost your breath. You wanted to look away, feeling pierced by his gaze, but you couldn’t– you wouldn’t. “If this isn’t sufficient, let me know. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

“No, it’s not,” You chuckled as he adjusted the material on your shoulder, “I walked out willingly. Yeah, you baited me into staying with food and tea, but I saw your plan, and I decided to go along with it.”

L smiled shyly, “I never could fool you.”

Your brows furrowed, and your heart sank.

“Can.” You corrected sternly. “You never can fool me.”

“Ah, Of course.” L said, removing his hands from you and tucking them back into his pockets, “You’re too observant for me to keep a secret. You’re always the first in the room to know what I’m thinking.”

He didn’t directly address his slip-up– referring to himself in the past tense as if he had died –so you didn’t either, instead filing that away under “more things to bring up later”.

“What can I say?” You teased. “Great minds think alike.”

“That they do,” he muttered, though you could tell his mind had taken him far away again.

You turned back to the window, and he joined you there. The rain had picked up, the heavy clouds drawing nearer. Your body buzzed with the electricity in the air. You could feel the winds of change surging through the city, and it filled you with determination.

“You should change,” Ryusaki whispered, “you’ll catch a cold.”

“Please,” You said, rolling your eyes and landing on his. “We were out there for less than an hour, and it never dropped below four degrees.”

“That’s still rather cold,” He hid his eyes from you, and you missed the sparks he carried there. “Not to mention the addition of rain.”

“If you’re so worried about my immune system,” you quipped, “studies show that hugs can actually help fight illness.”

That got a reaction out of the man, whipping his head to look at you.

“Is that so?” He asked, amusement teeming in his thin, grey irises. “Is it the exposure to more germs?”

“Possibly,” You admitted, “But it’s mostly the stress relief. Hugs reduce your cortisol and noradrenaline levels, improving blood pressure and general heart health. Also, with both of our body heats working together, it might help warm me up.”

L brought his thumb to his lip again, pondering your words.

“Maybe you have a point.” He muttered, “Perhaps we should test this theory.”

You agreed but neither of you moved, both too afraid to make the first move. You had hugged people before. You had hugged your family and many friends, so hugging Ryusaki shouldn’t be that nerve-racking, and yet, your body was buzzing just at the concept.

Suddenly, L Spread his arms, his figure drowning in his baggy sweater. It happened in slow motion, or at least it felt like it did. He dove towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, unintentionally pinning yours to your side, and his chin landed on the crown of your head gently.

You tensed, not expecting him to just go for it. Your face was pressed into his chest, your nose brushing his collarbone because of how his sweater had shifted. You were suddenly self-conscious breathing on him, trying your best to make sure your lungs were expanding and contracting naturally, but you could feel the awkwardness in your muscles.

“I don’t think this is working,” He said, his jaw moving against your head, “Your heart rate has only elevated. This seems to be…bothersome to you.”

He slowly removed himself but remained close, focusing his trying eyes on you, hands back in his pockets. “Please, tell me how you feel.”

“Well, firstly, you surprised me.” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Laughter bubbled up due to his unwavering gaze that affected you, though you didn’t want to concede to that. “And second, I’m not sure that counted as a hug. You trapped my arms, so I couldn’t reciprocate it properly.”

“I see,” He said, not showing any emotion you could detect (And you had gotten pretty good at reading L at this point). “What can I do better?”

His determination was…adorable. He was adamant about this, about hugging you better. You wouldn’t have thought this was something he ranked so highly in importance, and you felt flattered.

“Open your arms again,” You instructed, scooting closer.

He followed your orders, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. You took a quick breath, then brought your arms around his waist, then rested your ear between his pecs. There you heard his heart. You expected a steady thrum, but instead, the muscle beat like a kick drum without cause. But you supposed if you only fed your body sugar and caffeine, your heart would go crazy too.

He was also much comfier than you expected his skin and bones to be. His frame felt right in your arms, and a word flitted through your mind: safe. He was safe here in your arms, and you felt safe here too.

You remembered then that he was still standing there with his arms fully extended, like an owl stretching their wings.

“You can wrap your arms around me like before now,” You said into his chest.

He did as you said, and you felt an instant relief. Your blanket was wrapped around him, and you were surrounded by L. He was soft, like the petals of a Gardinia– like the ones your mother used to grow. He smelled like chocolate and strawberries, though with his diet, you were sure he sweated out sugar. In the refracted light the droplets cast, it looked just like that, like sugar crystals dancing across his skin.

Your nose picked up hints of lavender you recognised as the fabric softener Watari swore by. You wanted to bottle the sents and wear them yourself. You found yourself snuggling in closer, drawn in by the comforts of L.

You sighed in contentment, closing your eyes. His heartbeat stabilized, beating slower but strong. Slowly, he adjusted himself, bringing his arms tighter around you and turning so his ear rested against you and not his hewn jaw. Many moments went by like that, with nothing but the instrumental played by the rain, steady breathing, and hearts beating. As time went on, your heartbeats began to sync, beating together. You felt warmth spread throughout you at the thought. You liked this. You liked being close to Ryusaki.

“How long do these usually last?” He whispered into the rich silence.

“It depends on the friends, everyone’s comfort levels.” You replied thoughtfully. “Some people only hug for a few seconds; others hold each other like this. But it’s recommended that you get at least four hugs a day.”

He hummed, considering your answer. “I definitely haven’t been fulfilling that quota.”

“It’s okay,” You said through a laugh, “Me either.”

“Perhaps,” L said, putting on his detective voice, “If you have found this as enjoyable as I, we could do this more often– try to reach that benchmark more. The act of hugging seems to increase my oxytocin levels, which feels different than the dopamine confections give me. If it affects you the same way, I think that could be good for us both.”

Your laughter danced across this skin. “I can’t believe you can feel the difference between happy hormones.”

“Of course I can.” He said, completely unphased by your disbelief. “Dopamine feels more like I’m doing a good job, and Oxytocin is…”

You waited patiently while he found the words.

“Oxytocin makes me more…sentimental,” He landed on.

“I guess that makes sense,” You mumbled into his chest. “Weirdo.”

He chuckled at the title that would have hurt coming from anyone else.

“I would be okay with that,” You said, addressing his proposal, “If we hugged more often.”

“Great,” He said, and you could hear his smile. L could feel how the cold continued to cling to your skin. Although hugs were supposed to help fight illness, he doubted it was a cure. “We should finish up then so you can change.”

He released his hold on you and began to pull away, but without thinking, you held on tighter, your brows furrowing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m not sure,” you said honestly. “I just don’t want to leave this.” L brought a hand to his chin, cradling it and trying his best not to jostle you. “Is it the hug that you want, or is it me?”

Your eyes bugged at his question. Immediately, you let go, creating distance as you jumped back. You reacted as if he had struck you instead of asking a straightforward question to better understand the situation.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, not unlike a fish plucked from the water.

“Well, I- It’s uh…I mean- heh -what?” You stumbled. Again, L’s shark skin eyes bore into yours, dissecting every stutter and stammer.

“I believe the question was fairly easy to comprehend.” He said plainly, “I asked if it was the hug you wanted or me.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks.

“I understood the question,” You weakly defended.

L’s head dropped once again to the side, his hair flopping loosely as he moved but still weighing down over his face.

“Then answer it.”

You swallowed. He had cornered you, baiting you by insinuating you weren’t as intelligent as he thought and getting you to confess that you in fact were not confused. But in truth, you were. Because it was true that you were extremely touched-starved. You had dedicated the better half of the last year to catching Kira. You hadn’t had time for much else. You weren’t exactly popular before either.

You were a criminal, a cyber-robinhood. You had stolen from several pharmaceutical companies and redistributed their funds to families in need. You thought it absolutely abhorrent that the companies could make money off of cancer and diabetes, depriving people of medicine they needed, not wanted. You had done it with your best friend, who was killed by Kira.

She had taught you the ropes and how to hide yourself from the authorities. She, however, had crossed the line. She began targeting government officials, leaking their private messages and phone records to the public. You would have thought that would align with Kira’s morals, but you guess not because she died of a heart attack in your arms. You hadn’t made a friend since, not until Ryusaki.

You didn’t want him to leave you too. You were terrified that he would be ripped away from you, much like your friend before. But it was more than that. You wanted Ryusaki to live. You wanted him to have a full life, one of joy and contentment. One where his intelligence wasn’t weaponised. One where he could let his guard down and not break his back with his posture. You wanted him to drown in hugs, to never be deprived of comfort again. And you wanted to be by his side to see it.

You had become very attached to the man before you. You admired him, respected him. You found yourself trying to be more like him in many ways. And you felt pride every time he mimicked you.

“I don’t know.”

L was unconvinced, leaning in closer, “Yes, you do. But you won’t say.”

You stared into his eyes, words eluding you. What could you say? You weren’t even sure what you wanted, what your answer would be. He looked at you curiously, awaiting your response. When you had none, he sighed.

“Fine then,” He said, turning his investigative gaze away from you. “I will escort you to your room. Hopefully, that will satisfy you.”

You had requested a room here at headquarters and were unsurprised when L told you that he had already built one for everyone on the task force. You had all but moved in during the Kira case. You hadn’t meant to, but it was just easier than taking the train alone after a late night of investigating. With no one to stop you, you would stay up until three ante merīdiem, studying and analysing trends. Sometimes you would crash at your desk, but usually, you would drag yourself away when you noticed your eyes becoming heavy. But now, your apartment was more of a formality than anything else. L knew this and made no comments on the matter. He was happy you stayed here instead, and that the rooms weren’t a complete waste of time and effort.

As you travelled through the silent halls, you brought your blanket tighter around your shoulders, tensing your jaw so your teeth didn’t chatter. Ryusaki seemed unbothered by the cold. He showed no signs of discomfort other than the way his shoulders folded forward more than they usually did. You wondered if he was just suppressing them or if he truly wasn’t cold. But then you saw a small shiver travel down his spine.

“You never told me,” you said softly, “what you were doing out there?”

His steady pace was unwavering, his bare feet gently padding across the tiled floors of the hall.

“Thinking,” He replied but offered nothing more.

“Of course you were thinking, that’s all you know to do. ” You joked, “What were you thinking about?”

He took a few more steps, then stopped. You continued forward until you were standing side by side. He stared ahead, but you turned to face him. You watched as his face remained flat, unchanged.

“I was thinking about my death,” he said plainly, continuing his previous pace. “I reviewed my mental record of my will, noting necessary amendments. Due to recent events, I felt it something I reconsider.”

Your stomach twisted at his casualness, and you looked away. How could he say that and have no feeling about it? Or rather, rationalize whatever feelings he had about the situation away?

“You-” You began, your words tripping over the lump in your throat, “you shouldn’t talk like that. You’re not going to die.”

You said it with finality, though your friend heard the subtle desperation, the fear beneath your bravado.

He stopped again, and when you turned to him, he turned as well. His eyes seemed almost hollow as he spoke.

“We all die. And I happen to find myself in a position in which I am taunting the reaper.”

L did a lot of staring, and this one you took as a personal challenge. He knew what you meant, and he was purposefully not addressing it. You weren’t backing down; you weren’t folding for him. The other members of the task force often forgot that he was human; you refused to forget. While he was smarter than anyone you had ever met, he wasn’t a supercomputer. He had hopes and dreams; he had fears.

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting this game of blink.

You hadn’t realised you had arrived at your room and hesitated at the door.

“Would you like me to step inside?” He offered.

You nodded.

“Very well then.”

He opened the door and you stepped in. He closed the door behind him, then stood a few feet into the room, scratching at his leg with his foot. You made your way to your closet, selecting a new shirt and some sweatpants, then went to your dresser, selecting new undergarments.

L looked to the wall after catching a glimpse of the lacey bra you balanced from your finger. You looked to your friend, ready to ask him to turn around, when you noticed his head already turned and a slight rosy hue crawling up his exposed neck. He was usually so devoid of colour; the splash of pink was a nice touch. You wondered what had flustered him and if it had anything to do with you. The thought made you excited, but you chose not to acknowledge that.

“I’m changing now,” You said, turning away from him.

L tried his best to keep his eyes off of you, but soon, your hands were in the air as you peeled off your shirt, and his curiosity won. His eyes traced over the exposed skin, counting the vertebrae up your back. His breath hitched slightly as you reached behind you and unlatched your bra. He caught himself imagining what it would look like if you were turned around and ripped his eyes away again. After all, you were his friend, and it was inappropriate to think such things about a friend. Especially one that trusted him enough to change in front of him. He would rather die than abuse your trust.

Soon, you were wiggling out of your pants, and his eyes betrayed him, following the movement of your hands. The cotton panties you wore were nothing special, plain and purple and a bit cheeky. It clung to the shape of your ass beautifully. His eyes bugged involuntarily, and he decided he could no longer trust himself to be facing you and turned his body.

As he faced the wall, he considered your interactions today. You had sought him out and then joined him outside despite knowing the discomfort the cold would bring you. Meaning you valued his amusement more than your comfort. You entertained his tangents and encouraged him to try new things, which meant that his general well-being must be something of importance to you. Why else would you go out of your way to protect it?

Yes, you wanted him to be happy and made that a responsibility of your own. You coached him through a new experience and reassured his insecurities about it. He had hugged you for two minutes and thirty seconds, but you had held him for two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. So you enjoyed the physical comfort, and obviously desired more, as you only stopped when he shocked you.

That’s right, you pulled away when he asked if you "wanted him." So enjoying his company was fine, but once "wanting" became a part of the equation, you rejected it. Or tried your best to. But you didn’t deny that you still desired his presence, allowing him to escort you to your room, where you took off your clothes in front of him.

When he looked at the incidents individually, it could all be chalked up to you being a good friend– one who trusted and respected him –but he was a better detective than that. He also knew to look at the big picture. In his mind, he replaced himself with other people, like puppets in a play, and saw how your reactions changed.

He found it hard to believe that you would allow someone else on the team to hold you for two minutes, lure you into the rain, or risk them seeing you in your underwear. Which begged the question, why do you treat him differently? How does your perception of him differ from the others?

Then it became abundantly clear, and he was shocked. The conclusion he came to seemed ludicrous, and yet, it was the only one that made sense-- the only one that stood with the evidence. How could this be? There was only one way to know.

He called your name and you hummed in response, putting on a new shirt and turning to face him.

“You evaded my question.” He remarked, still looking at the wall. “However, I think your evasion– and the several events surrounding it –has given me a more clear understanding of the answer you were guarding.”

You felt a general unease, not sure you liked the direction his inquisitive mind was heading. You wrung your hands anxiously in front of you, looking at the back of his head. You should have known L wouldn’t let that go.

“I told you I didn’t know.”

He turned quickly, catching you off guard. He was once again very close to you, his eyes dancing with curiosity and a bit of pride. It was a look you saw when he presented a theory based on new evidence he had finally made sense of that had previously baffled the team. You knew he was confident in whatever he had deduced and was more amused by your responses, watching carefully with a thumb pressed to his lip just a few inches away from your face.

“But I don’t think it was the complete truth,” he pressed, “which makes it a lie of omission.”

“I didn’t lie,” You quickly defended.

“But I saw it: a realisation flitting across your face. You looked at the evidence and came to a conclusion. You have some idea as to why you reacted to my question the way you did, and you have an answer. Does the answer put you in a position of vulnerability perhaps?”

You gaped at him, unsure how to respond. However, he continued to think aloud, answering your question for you with his own ramblings.

“Yes, that must be it. In answering whether you merely wanted more affection or me, it would force you to admit that you had a need that wasn’t being met. And since we had already discussed our general lack of affection in day-to-day life, revealing that you felt you wanted more hugs would not make you uncomfortable… no, it has to be me that you want. That’s the only reason you would react that way. Which makes me wonder, in what way do you want me?

“My phrasing may have impacted your response, as ‘want’ can mean different things in certain contexts. However, if you thought of me in a strictly platonic sense, you would not have assumed I meant anything more than my company. There is, of course, the possibility that previous interactions in male friendships lead you to believe I meant something else, but I think it is more likely that you interpreted it romantically because you have– on some level –romantic feelings for me. And by answering the question honestly, you would have revealed that.”

He paused for a moment before asking, “Am I right?”

Your brain was spinning, repeating every word he had said. He waited patiently as you mulled it over. You tried to disprove his theory, picking each line and defending the opposite, but it became harder and harder the longer you went on. You weren’t sure how you saw the man in front of you. He was your friend, someone you respected and cared for. You valued his opinion and you listened to his advice. But you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive. You had since you first met him.

After your friend had died, it didn’t take you long to piece together that it was Kira who killed her. You brought your theory to the police, but they didn’t take you seriously. Apparently, there had been many false reports of Kira's murders, and yours was the fifteenth report that day. You continued to argue, but you didn’t even get past the front desk. That night, when you got back home, you decided you would do everything you could to catch the killer. You broke into the police database– which was entirely too easy –then followed up with everyone they suspected. You used your skills to hack into the suspects' computers, scouring through their histories and files, but didn’t find anything incriminating. Except for one man.

He was too innocent, not even a record of porn on his computer. Most of his search results were quiz questions with brief breaks spent streaming funny videos. He was a studious pupil and the son of a cop. You consulted the police’s notes often and were surprised when they claimed it could be a student. Then soon after, the pattern of killings changed, further proving the theory.

You were convinced it was Light Yagami, but you needed more. So you tried to hack into L’s computer. You knew from the police notes of the meetings that L called in using a computer, meaning he had to have a Wi-Fi connection to talk to them in real time. It took you a while to hack the secure connection, and even longer to get into the computer. You felt defeated– outsmarted –when you realised the only thing on the device was whatever system he used for the calls and whatever connection he used for that was heavily encrypted.

You thought nothing more of the event until you were picked up off the street a few weeks later. You were grabbed and bound, the assailant immediately gagging and blindfolding you. The drive was long, and you were taken somewhere with winding hallways and cold rooms. You were restrained to a table, straps keeping you upright, and then your gag was removed.

You yelled in anger, cursing your capture and illustrating all the ways in which you would make them suffer for treating you this way. You only stopped when a robotic voice filled the room. It asked who you were, but you ignored its question, connecting the dots.

“You’re L,” You said plainly, “The renowned detective. You’ve solved every case you’ve ever taken on. And you apprehended me– confining me and taking away my vision –meaning you must think I’m Kira. You know who I am, that’s why you’ve taken me in.”

He confirmed your suspicions and listed out the crimes you had committed, and your behaviours that made him suspect you. You couldn’t deny his deductions, and instead of trying to prove your innocence, you told him about your own mission to catch Kira. You even apologised for trying to hack him as well, “but you understand, I had to try.”

He kept you tied up for a few, very long days, then let you walk around the room, giving you access to a bed and a few books. Now and then he would check in on you and offered to make amends for the misunderstanding. You only requested that he hear you out.

You told him about your theories and how you were disregarded by the police. He was the first person to tell you that he believed your friend was murdered and that it had more to do with them talking out against Kira online than the crimes they had committed. And that only angered you more.

Soon, he began to trust you. He showed you his face. He was nothing like you imagined, but everything you expected. He was odd; he looked almost sickly and was very deadpan. But he had a sense of humour, one that was just as odd as him. He was straightforward forward, and you didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking, as he often shared his thoughts. He was kind, having an obvious affinity for sweets, but always willing to share with you. He asked about you and your life, and you could tell he was cataloguing everything you had to say. He listened so intently when you spoke.

You only grew closer, looking forward to your meetings in the following weeks, and were elated when he told you about the new headquarters and how he wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. He was impressed by your resourcefulness and intellect, but more importantly your passion. You were driven by revenge, but soon that changed. L believed in you, and you wanted to honour that.

Despite his quarks, you saw his soft underside, and it drew you in more. He was fascinating to you, alluring.

Was that normal for a friend? To simply see them and feel better, to seek out their company? Yeah, you guess it was, but you didn’t think it was as normal to think your friend is pretty. Friends don’t trace jaw lines or let their eyes linger on outstretched fingers and moving lips. Is that what you were feeling? Was your confusion and nervousness a result of an unrealised crush on your friend?

“Oh, I see,” Ryusaki mumbled, “It wasn’t an intentional lie; you only just now realised.”

You hated that he could read you as well as he could, and suddenly his proximity was suffocating. You stepped back, hiding from his gaze in your hands. It was bad enough that you had feelings for your best and only friend, but to come to that realisation in front of them –when they have the uncanny ability to practically read minds –was mortifying. You were cornered and unsure what to say. You didn’t even have time to consider what you wanted to do about your feelings before they were made known.

You could try to deny it, but you didn’t think that would work. Not against L. So you decided to look deeper. You had pieced together how your interactions proved you liked him, but how did L fare? You compared his behaviour towards you to the others. He was kinder with you, often wording things gentler to you than he would care to for anyone else. He provided confections to everyone, but he only offered you bites from his plate. He was more candid about his feelings with you, as well as his thoughts.

While he often toyed with the investigators, constantly testing their deductive reasoning and loyalty, L only asked what you thought to question his own conclusions. He valued your input more than others on the team, and you knew the task force was aware of that. if you were in the room, Ryusaki was always within arms reach. He never strayed far. He asked about your personal life, and he encouraged you to take breaks. He smiled and laughed around you, something you didn’t see in front of the others. You had seen L’s soft side, but only because he had shown it to you. He was vulnerable with you. But was that just friendship?

No, no there was more. Today, he cared for you, feeding you and treating you to a picnic. He apologised for your condition, completely disregarding his own. He did his best to atone for the wrong he felt he had done, going as far as to wrap you in his own warmth. He didn’t need to. He sought out the contact. Contact he didn’t look for elsewhere. Contacted he requested and asked for more of, in a less than graceful way. Tripping over words was out of character for the normally articulate detective.

He then stayed by your side, escorting you to your room, again, disregarding the fact that he too was cold and rained on. Furthermore, any other friend would have turned away from you while you changed, but he faced you. You remembered the blush on his face before you changed. Either the idea of you undressing or something he saw you were changing into caused that response. You had difficulty believing this came from a general lack of experience with women.

If Misa changed in front of him (which is an unavoidable event which has already happened with her room being monitored the way it is), you doubted he would have much of a reaction. Yes, you were sure. His flustered state was a result of you.

You removed your hands from your face and looked at the man of your affection. He wore a curious look, and you smiled.

“You’re not upset,” he observed, “Usually, people respond badly to my blunt deductions about their emotions. I expected you to yell or deny, but you’ve done neither.”

You chuckled lightly, “I don’t think there’s a way I could have denied that without further confirming your conclusion.”

“Well, your initial response of hiding from me was sufficient.” he said with a bit of smugness, “But I’m curious as to why you no longer feel the need to.”

“I don’t need to hide my feelings if you already know they exist,” you stated calmly, “And I’m sixty-seven percent sure you share my feelings, making them much less frightening.”

Rysuaki’s hidden eyebrows raised, and his eyes widened. You watched smugly as he said nothing, revelling in the pride of shocking even the great L.

You explained how you reached that conclusion, knowing that would be his first question. When you finished, he looked up to the ceiling, reevaluating the evidence. You watched as his careful mind picked apart your deduction and this time you allowed yourself to appreciate his unique beauty.

You traced the slope of his nose, following it down to the tendons in his neck and where his collar bones poked out from his baggy sweater. You greedily observed the way his clothes hung from his body, nearly swallowing him whole.

“It is true, I am rather fond of you. I made that more obvious than I intended, however, there’s nothing to be done about it now.” He admitted, “I can’t say I’ve ever had much of a love life or much experience with romantic feelings. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

You patted the spot next to you on the bed, and he crossed the room to join you. To your surprise, he sat with his feet on the floor, hands on his thighs.

“I think this a good place to start,” you said warmly. “We don’t have to do anything about it yet.”

He nodded but didn’t look at you. You could see the gears churning in his head, then you noticed his hands. There were impressions left in his thighs from his strong grip. Was it possible he was nervous? You couldn’t hide the delight the sight brought you. You thought it was adorable that you were something that could cause him so much grief. But you hated it too.

You placed your hand on his and he tensed slightly, but didn’t push it away.

“Hey,” you said softly, “Take a breath. Really, I don’t want you to stress over this. You have enough on your plate.”

He looked at your hand, his face level, silently assessing, and you allowed him the space to do so. His hand twitched a bit under yours before he turned it over, his palm meeting yours and his slender fingers weaving between your digits.

“What if-” he paused, as if not sure he should say what he was thinking. He took a breath as you instructed, then continued. “What if I want to do something about it?”

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face, and you didn’t feel a need to.

“Then I would ask what you wanted to do.”

"It's not about what I want." He looked at you, eyes wide and panicked. “What if doing something is stupid and puts you in danger?”

You had never seen L so worked up before, and you were stunned for a moment. You realised he was letting you in, even more than before. He was letting you see his fear, something you're not sure he’s shown anyone willingly. And in this moment, you were reminded that he was just a young man. That his life had barely begun. Yet he had seen horrors you couldn’t imagine.

“If Light is Kira,” he continued, through gritted teeth. “then you are already endangered enough. But if our relationship is now romantic, he may use you to get to me. He would have no problem killing you if it brought him closer to his goal, and we both know that.”

“Ryusaki…” you tried, rubbing your thumb against the back of his cold, clammy hand. “He already knows I care for you. The others have been teasing me about my favouritism for months now. If he thought I knew anything, or that you would tell me anything, he would have already done it. If he could, he'd probably force me to write your name in the book somehow, so he didn’t have to do it himself.”

The fire in his eyes fizzled, and now he looked deflated again as if his anger was the only thing giving him the energy to fight.

“Then, I can’t tell you anything,” he concluded, “and that doesn’t make for a very strong relationship. One of secrecy where I’m forced to keep you at a distance…no that won’t do.”

He let go of your hand, looking away and rising to his feet. You felt that familiar tug in your heart, the one you felt at your desk when you realised he wasn’t beside you, the same feeling when he tried to end the hug. It felt like he was leaving you, and this time, it made you angry.

“Fuck that!” you said a little harsher than you intended. L turned to look at you in surprise; you had never raised your voice to him before (Aside from that time he arrested you and you didn’t know it was him you were cursing). “I refuse to let Kira make any decisions for me. That bastard doesn’t get to stop me from doing anything I want. And I want this, I’ll fight for it.”

You spoke with a vicious resolve, and L had to admit, it was intriguing.

“I’m done letting him ruin my life. I’m taking charge. I know there’s a way to prove it, to get him to confess. We can do it. We’ll catch that monster and frame his head on the wall.”

L was studying you; you could see it in his analytical eyes.

“‘Monster’ you say…” he wonders aloud, “There are many types of monsters; the one we face now... he’s a lying monster: He’s cunning, posing as a human, though having no understanding of the human heart. He works hard, but only to appease his own hubris. He seeks friendship even though he does not truly know how to love. I had once said, If I were to encounter such a monster, I would likely be eaten by them... because, in truth, I am that monster.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze resolute.

“Tell me, honestly, how can you hate Kira and care for me? We are the same beast.” His body towered over yours, the shadows of the light obscuring his face under his hair. He was almost intimidating. “I do not fight for justice but my own amusement. How many lives have I disregarded all because I didn’t find the case challenging enough? How many people have I endangered solving this one? I allowed who I believed to be Kira intimate knowledge of the case, all because I thought it made the game more fun. I view people as disposable, just as Kira does, and manipulate them just as freely. Kira and I are cut from the very same cloth. Yet, you despise him and respect me.”

Your stare was hard and unforgiving. Rage shook your body, and L was sure that you had changed your mind. You hated him now, just as you should.

“No,” You said sternly, “You can lie to yourself all you want, but I won’t allow you to lie to me.”

You carefully lifted his chin, forcing him to hear you.

“You are flawed, yes. You certainly have an ego, but that doesn’t make you a monster. If you were presented with the power of the death note, you wouldn’t use it to make yourself a god. You don’t always fight fair, but the criminals you chase don’t either, and it would be silly to try for the high road. That is what makes you such a great detective. You do what needs to be done. But that’s not why I care about you.”

You saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he buried it once again.

“I care for you. Not L, the world’s greatest detective. I care for the man who treats me kindly and listens to my woes. I care for the man who checks in to make sure I’ve eaten and taken breaks. I care for the man who is so terrified of himself, he hides away from the world. I care for the man who was cursed with a brilliant mind and raised in a world of evil. I don’t care that you’re a genius, I’d love you dumb. I’m not interested in what you can do for me. I just want you.”

You watched as the man closed his eyes, unable to face your reverent judgment.

“You could step away right now, and I’d never think less of you. You could imprison Light, right or wrong, and I would stand by you. You could tell me that you don’t want this, and I wouldn’t fight you.” You moved your hand from his chin to rest against his cheek. “But if you bow down to Kira– admit defeat when your heart is still beating –I’ll never forgive you.”

His eyes snapped open, and he scanned your face, looking for a lie, but found one.

“We live in a world where gods of death are real,” you continued, “And that knowledge has made me realise even more that nothing in life is guaranteed. Nothing other than your own resolve. I chose life, and I wish you would choose the same.”

“You speak as if I am trying to kill myself.” he scrutinised.

“Since the arrest of Higuchi, you’ve stopped investigating," You pressed, "but we both know it’s not because you think we’ve stopped Kira. There’s still a second notebook- a second Kira. And I’m sure you’ve noticed the change in Yagami, almost as if coming in contact with the book has turned him back into Kira. I see the way he looks at you, the way he studies you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” he confirmed.

“Then why? Why have you stopped trying to catch him? If he is actively trying to catch you– to kill you –and you do nothing to stop it, you are killing yourself. You’re allowing him to win. And I can’t– no, I won’t catch him without you.”

“You wouldn’t avenge me?” He asked curiously.

“I’m here for my own selfish reasons,” you reminded him, “If you die, then everyone I have left will have been taken by Kira. What motivation would I have left to stop him?”

“I see…” he said flatly, “so if Kira is to be caught, we must both live to see it happen.”

“Yes, but more so, I would blame you for your death. Avenging you wouldn’t be possible, as you and your killer would be one and the same. I would hate you.”

His hand joined yours, guiding it away from his face and holding it at his side.

“I’m not sure I could rest knowing you hated me. Not when you’re the only person I trust and the only person I can say I’ve ever cared for– besides Watari, of course,” He said softly, “But in all honesty, I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t control you, and I have no desire to, but allowing you to grow any closer to me is dangerous. And I would hate myself if anything happened to you.”

His fingers traced over the creases in your hand as he spoke, memorising the fate lines.

“But I can’t deny the attachment I have for you.” he continued, “It clouds my judgement, and I spend valuable time constantly correcting it. I’ve been indulging in delusions of running away with you. Taking you far away from the danger, placing you in a secure palace where you want for nothing, allowing you to lose yourself in all the simple pleasures your poetic mind can conjure. I would rather collect a list of books for your library than face Kira at the moment.”

You felt like crying, his words striking your heart. While it was easy to deduce that he favoured you over the others, such a blatant confession wasn’t something you expected. You knew this fantasy was built in his mind as something to make you happy, but you knew that this was something he wanted as well. To live a life of ease, not as a pawn to world governments. To be free to have intelligence and not be weaponised. You realised then, he was tired. He was exhausted from chasing Kira, exhausted from comparing himself to the enemy.

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He looked at you curiously.

“You can afford a break, a real one. Your mind is scattered, and you can’t possibly expect to outsmart Kira if you’re worrying about everything else.” You explained, “I’ll talk to Watari about planning a secure getaway for you but for now…”

You softly grabbed his hand and led him towards the door, “We’re going to your room so you can change. Then we’ll discuss what we’re doing for the night.”

He allowed you to lead him down the hall, saying nothing while you travelled. He only spoke again after you stepped into his room.

“I am not often surprised,” he marveled “But you continue to amaze me. I can’t predict you. You’re courageous and strong-willed, but always kind. You’re extremely brilliant, but you’re humble about it. But most amazingly, you believe in me– not because of what I’ve done, but because of who I am –and I’ve never met someone who could separate the two.”

You flush under his praise, “You say you can’t predict me, but I swear, you see right through me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said with panic in his eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You laughed, the sound affecting L more than he expected. He loved it, loved making you laugh. He wanted to do it as much as possible, but that was something to figure out later.

“You didn’t,” you reassured, “but I do have something you can do to make it up to me,”

L smirked, knowing you were teasing him.

“I don’t understand. I didn’t offend, but you claim I need to make amends.”

“You don’t have to. It’s completely up to you.”

“What is it you would have me do?”

You didn’t answer with words, instead spreading your arms and then making a grabby motion towards him. Your smile was soft, gently pulling at your lips.

“Yes,” he said sweetly, “I suppose we could both use a boost of oxytocin.”

He took slow steps towards you, and then all at once, his arms were around your waist. He pulled you into him, lifting you slightly off the ground, bringing your neck to his hung head. You felt goosebumps where his nose nuzzled into your skin and your heart grew wings, soaring. You held L just as tightly, indulging in his desperate touch and burying your nose into his silky hair.

“I think we should revise our previous agreement about hugs.” He said after a moment, speaking into your throat.

“What amendments would you like to make?”

“I think four hugs a day is fine, but I don’t think we should limit ourselves to that. We do need to make up for our lack of hugs in the past after all. Furthermore,” he lifted his head slowly, so as not to knock you in the nose. He would feel horrible for that. “I think we could add or substitute hugs for other forms of affection as well.”

You hummed, and he continued.

“For instance, you have held my hand twice today, and both times, I felt a similar sort of comfort from the action. In fact, I’ve noticed any skin-to-skin contact with you eases me. Your hand on my face proved that. I tested this theory twice. Once, before our confessions, on the blanket. I placed my hand on the one you had placed on my shoulder. Then again, in your room, by simply touching your hand, tracing your palm instead of holding it. Both yielded similar results.”

You smiled at him fondly, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. As your nails skated across his scalp in lazy circles, his eyes fluttered a bit, his lids resting heavier.

“So you would like to add hand-holding? I’m fine with that.”

Your sweet voice flooded his mind, and your hands liberated his composure.

“Either you’re completely clueless to the effect you have on me,” he whispered, “Or you revel in it. And I’m not sure which is more terrifying.”

Your heart skipped a beat, which startled L for a moment, but then he realised it was because of an emotional response and not an attack from Kira.

“I wonder the same about you.”

L was unfamiliar with the look in your eyes. Your pupils were dilated, and your irises sparkled in the light. He’s never been looked at like that before. Your face looked brighter, and your body language (while restricted in your current position in his arms) was relaxed; open. And suddenly, he was entranced by your lips. You were talking, and he studied the muscles as they moved, unable to focus on anything else. He felt the urge to kiss you, and this shocked him. He forced himself to pay attention to your words.

“...besides you have all the power really. I know what I want, but if you don’t want me there’s nothing I can do about it. I could never kill you, but even if Kira forced my hand, I don’t know your name. And you’re the only one on the team who knows mine. Whether I like it or not, my heart is in your hands.”

“I would never hurt you,” he quickly defended, almost offended.

“I know,” you said simply, “That’s why I trust your hands.”

Your gaze was unwavering, your stance absolute. The emotions L tried to contain began stirring restlessly. He no longer felt like he had a hold on them. A hurricane of feelings he couldn’t quite name tore through his chest, and he didn’t know what else to do but act. He surged forward, pressing his lips to yours. It was awkward and brief, as neither of you puckered your lips, just touched them together. He kept his watchful eyes wide as he did so, gauging your response.

“Was that a kiss?” You finally asked once your silent shock was replaced by a highly amused smile.

A small frown overtook L’s face. “I fear if you had to ask…”

His sentence trailed off as he sat you back down on the ground. Then turned to walk to his closet. His was much larger than yours (which was ironic given he wore the same clothes for days straight), and you assumed he elected to change there when he closed the door. Now that he was out of sight, you allowed your excitement to show, jumping up and down and shaking your hands.

He had kissed you, almost. It was obvious that he didn't have the experience, but your heart swelled at the thought that he wanted those experiences with you. And he did kiss you, he held you in his arms, for no other reason than to hold you close.

You tried your best to calm down, but your bright smile would fool no one. Instead, you tried to focus your attention elsewhere, calling Watari. He had given you his number (or a number) months ago. He told you it was because he saw that you cared for his son and that his son trusted you. He also confessed that he was rather fond of you too. He wanted to see you make it out of this investigation.

He answered almost immediately.

“Hello, Ms Ogawa,” He was always careful to use your alias, even if he knew you were alone. “I notice that you’re calling from within headquarters, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I was calling because I convinced Ryusaki to take some time off. I need you to plan a trip for him, no shorter than a week but something that’s easily extendable.”

The old man chuckled on the other end of the line.

“You convinced him to take a break? I didn’t think anyone was capable; I wonder how you managed.” He seemed amused, implying he knew something through his old man wisdom.

“I’m not entirely certain I did,” L emerged from the closet, looking nearly identical, just less soggy. You smiled at him as he made his way towards you. “But I’ll be very cross with him if he doesn’t. I think he knows that.”

The man you spoke of raised a single eyebrow as if to say, “Oh really?”

You made a similar face that left no room for argument.

“I see,” Watari continued, “Shall I book this trip for one or two?”

You couldn’t hide your surprise at the question. You didn’t know how to answer. You didn’t have to though as L decided then to grab the phone from your hand, pinching it awkwardly between his fingers.

“Two,” he replied on your behalf. “We’ll also need a cover so that the others don’t know we’re together.”

“Understood. How soon would you like to leave?”

L returned the phone to you, trusting your decision.

“We’ll leave tomorrow. We have plans for tonight, and I’d like to rest beforehand.”

“That’s very wise, Ms Ogawa. I’ll send over the itinerary soon.”

“Thank you, Watari.”

You hung up, placing your phone back in your pocket. When you looked up, L’s hand was extended, offering you a sweater.

“If you intend to go out,” he explained, “You’ll need a sweater.”

You took it gratefully, and he turned his head again, giving you space to change. When you finished pulling the shirt over your head, he looked up and felt like he had swallowed his tongue. He never anticipated that seeing you in his clothes would affect him this way. He was truly smitten by you, and that was something he could no longer deny.

“Ready?” You asked, disrupting his train of thought.

He nodded, and you offered him your hand. A small smile spread across his face as he took it. He trusted your hands too, he realised.

You reached the garage, selecting an inconspicuous sedan for your ventures. L moved to open the door when you stopped him.

“Wait!” Your heart was in your throat, but you closed your eyes and forced out the words. “My favourite flowers are poppies. I think it’s cool how versatile they are. The moon absolutely amazes me. I understand how its gravitational pull affects our tides, but I still can’t wrap my mind around it. I also really like The Smiths, which raises conflicting feelings in me because I hate Morrison as a person, but man, if he isn’t great as crying into a microphone.”

You heard a soft chuckle and felt a hand reach out to hold your bicep. You took a deep breath, continuing with Ryusaki’s encouragement.

“I prefer a good milkshake over any other dessert. I think time travel is probably the coolest superpower, but I think it’s too great a power that I wouldn’t trust myself with it. I like cats, but I’ve always wanted a pet raccoon. I don’t think I could get one, morally, but they just look so cute. If I had one, I would love that little guy so much. I would give him a really pretentious name; find a way to grant him Lordship.”

You opened your eyes slowly to see Ryusaki smiling, his thumb tracing circles on your arm. His eyes darted around your face, twinkling in city lights. His heart pounded harder with every word you uttered. Romance was never something he prioritised in his life, it wasn’t something he ever saw happening. Most people were put off by him, and it wasn’t often that he actually met people in his work. He could have lived the rest of his life hiding behind a computer screen, an imperceivable entity known only to one man. But now, he would give anything to stand in the sun with you while you look at him the way you do now. Affection and amnesty dripping from your gaze.

“I’d like to try and kiss you again,” he said timidly. “If you’d show me how.”

Your smile split your face, feeling overjoyed by his words. Each move you made, he mirrored, hands on cheeks and bodies touching as he matched your steps forward. You jumped up on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Ryusaki’s eyes widened comically, and a hand rose to his lips as if he’d find your kiss there. But soon, his shock dissipated, replaced by a look of hunger.

This time, he led, dropping a hand to your waist to hold you close and using his other to lift your chin. He moved in so slowly, and your body thrummed with the anticipation of contact. He stopped, his lips barely grazing yours, and you couldn’t hide your desperate tremble when you felt his soft breath against your own. He pressed his puckered lips against yours, and you took no time reciprocating.

You brought a hand to the back of his neck, guiding him and pulling him closer. You felt like you were flying, your heart beating its feathered wings against your ribcage. You pulled your lips away just to bring them back, and you could feel his confidence growing as he tilted his head and his grip on your waist grew tighter. You began moving your lips against his, testing the waters. The rhythm was awkward at first, but he caught it soon enough.

His chest was rising and falling quickly against you, and he brought his hands up to hold your face. You lost yourself in his touch, in the way he clung to you. You were being consumed and felt no dire to run from it. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you gasped.

Your eyelids flutter as your brain caught up to what was happening around you. Ryusaki was no longer kissing you but carefully cataloguing the look on your face in his mind. He was reviewing everything he did and how you reacted to it. He had decided that he loved kissing you, and he wanted you to love it too. He wanted love to be something you associated with him, especially now that he knew his brain was making a similar connection. He knew it was probably too soon to say something like that, but he could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. He had the brightest star in the sky in his palms, and he didn’t intend to let this shooting star fall from his grasp.

You were seeing sides of L that you never thought you would, ones you never thought to look for. He held you like a precious stone, something sacred. He looked at you like you were a wonder to behold, the eighth wonder of the world. It made it hard to breathe, suffocated by his silent adoration.

“So, where are we going this evening?” He asked from high above.

“I don’t know,” you said breathlessly, “but we have all of Tokyo, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

He loved this look on you. The joy in your eyes, the lack of stress in your muscles. Your glee was infectious, and he didn’t mind it.

“As long as you’re by my side, I think anything would do.”

He testingly laid a kiss on your forehead as he said it, and you felt like you would melt to the floor in a pile of goo. You removed a hand from his neck, resting it on his, and were delighted when he instantly intertwined your fingers.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere, Ryu-”

“Lawliet,” He interjected. You tilt your head, confused, and L does his best not to swoon as you rest your head in his hand on your cheek. “My name is Lawliet.”

You break out into a blinding grin, and Lawiet knows then that smile was the sunlight he was meant to bask in. Those were the rays that would light his darkest nights. The beams that would guide him through the intricate maze of life.

He had found all he needed. A friend who listens to his grief and grievances. One who cares enough to try and understand his mind and soothe it at the same time. Not for her own convenience, but for his betterment; never pushing the boundary of discomfort but bringing thrill to the change. He found a fresh pair of eyes, for when his get dull and tired, to show him the artistry outside of the ghastly monstrosities he and the world bathed in. A person brave enough to show up, even on the bad days. The whole world could fit in his palms when he held you like this.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lawliet.” you corrected.

L smiled, squeezing your hands three times. You returned the sentiment with a kiss to the hand you held in your own.

Tag List: @barbecuetiddy, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @purple-amaranthe, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @supernerdycookietrashblrr, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz

I hope you enjoyed the read! Like I said, I don't think I'll do much writing for L, but I really enjoyed this. I hope even if you don't have as much love for this character as I do, you can still get something out of it :))

#rancid writes #death note #death note fanfiction #death note l #death note imagines #death note l lawliet #death note fluff #fluff #l lawliet #l death note #l x reader #l lawliet x reader #death note characters #friends to lovers

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