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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

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Rigor Mortis (part 9)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 8, Part 10

summary: You both come to a realisation.

warnings: smut! f! masturbation, grinding, humping, fingering, (implied) recreational drug use, alcohol, dubcon (-ish! reader is drunk but the interaction is consensual, tagging just in case xx), teeny tiny bit of mutual pining. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: yuhh

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 7.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all that light lost in gaps

You're gone, in the morning.

…he should've expected it. Miguel stumbles out of sleep, groggy and disoriented. He finds himself reaching out for something in the half-light.

He finds himself reaching for you. And when you're not there, leaving a person sized gap at the crook of his arm, his stomach churns. He pretends it's not disappointment, or the sharp crack of yearning ; settling at his chest like a crowbar, and prying open his ribs. It's worry, he decides resolutely, a perfectly normal, healthy amount of worry. As your roommate; and nothing else, he keeps reminding himself; he's just worried about where you've rushed off to, especially after yesterday.

Senior year. He was assigned a bullshit paper in a Civics class – one he'd usually half-ass for an easy A. He'd wax poetic about morality – amorphous, vague platitudes about duty and societal expectations. By the end of the year, he had it down to a science: a couple thousand words remixed and plucked from lesser known philosophers, videos online, and overdue library books. Either he was getting too good at it, or his teacher was too stupid to notice; but regardless, he coasted through the class right up until graduation. His last paper, and he remembers it distinctly, was on the book of the same name; aptly titled What We Owe Each Other. A plodding, pluralistic read; of which he had only scanned through, anyways. Extra credit, anything to graduate early, and he'd had more than enough on his plate at the time.

And so, he wasn't expecting the B+ underlined and circled in red ink on the front page. It felt like his teacher had handed it back to him face down, slammed onto the desk like the thunderous crack of a whip. And he didn't need that A, strictly speaking. Yet, he had found himself staying over after class, crinkling that piece of paper in hand as he'd asked why.

She sighs. Miss Hunter's glasses slip down her nose, as they are prone to do.

"You're an outstanding student. I hear you're graduating early, and you're off somewhere prestigious in the fall. This is… definitely not a bad grade, and it's nothing, I promise you."

It doesn't work like that, for him. His teacher doesn't get it, but it will eat him up inside-out if he's not able to understand.

"Was it my referencing?" He fumbles with the strap of his bag.

"No. Not at all–"

"I did the extra reading…the article you mentioned in class, and–"

He's cut off by the scrape of a desk chair. Miss Hunter gets up to close the door, before settling on her desk.

Arms crossed, she seems tired. Worried, maybe, but it doesn't register with Miguel. The thought doesn't even cross his mind, that there are others with the capacity to worry about him.

"Technically, it's well written. As usual, Miguel." She gives him a weak smile. "It just… lacked heart."

His brows jump up. "...heart?"

"There's not really a narrative voice, here."

He taps at the paper on the desk, frustrated. "You didn't ask for a narrative voice, though. You didn't ask for… for heart. I read the book, I did the extra reading, and I wrote a report. That was the brief."

"Not quite." She says it gently, but it still sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him. "The brief was vague, intentionally so. 'What Do We Owe Each Other? Discuss.' I gave examples, sure: excerpts from the book we touched on in class, articles, academic papers, etcetera. They were… suggestions."

"...suggestions." He's incredulous.

She nods. "You followed it to the letter, Miguel. You gave me a summary, with a few key links. Fully referenced, yes. Well-written, yes. But this feels like a sum of parts. It doesn't tell me anything about you; your perspective, your angle. Your voice."

He's biting back choice words. It sounds like bullshit to him, for lack of a better word. Flowery, hoity-toity BS; served up to him on a steaming platter. That's it?

Maybe it shows on his face, because she's asking, as delicately as possible,

"Is everything okay?"

Instinctually, he seizes up.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm good."

"I know you don't take this class as seriously because it's not an AP, or an elective, or maybe not as challenging as you need it to be. And that's okay, Miguel. I'm happy for you to use my class as a break from all the other stuff." She swallows thickly. "You're not from our usual feeder schools. The Academy is particularly rigorous. But considering your… situation, we can make exceptions. If there's anything I can do–"

"There isn't a 'situation'."

"Right. Of course, I'm sorry. But if you need a couple days off of school because of…" She pasues, saying the next part softly. "Because of the baby… I mean, you're already acing my class–"

"No." He says it firmly, eyes trained onto the wood grain peeking out from underneath piles of documents. He wants to ask how she knows, and how he's always the last to find out that rumours have spread, and–

"Miguel." Her voice cuts through dense fog. She repeats her previous statement. “If there's anything I can do–”

“If you want to help, you can give me that A.” It's bone dry, said with the kind of sarcasm he's grown accustomed to. He wears it over his shoulders, sometimes; draped to keep out biting cold, or unfamiliar warmth from a stranger - it all feels the same, now.

She gives him a rueful smile. “Need more than that, m'afraid.”

Heart. Voice. What We Owe Each Other – and he doesn't know why that phrase sticks in his throat. It's been drilled into him since childhood; family and community, helping each other out of the starting blocks; and beaten out of him during adolescence. The creaking and cracking of bones after each step, where out in the world it's a different matter entirely.

His mama has bad taste in men, and he finds himself picking up the pieces. Gabi is more sensitive than he'll ever admit, trying not to cry amongst broken plates and chicken-wire hidden in a bouquet of peonies: prickly words that cut and hack, and it's Miguel that wipes the tears from his brother's cheek. That devastatingly gentle sigh when he had told his mama what he had done - how he had fallen for a soft bed and even softer lips at the ripe age of 16 and a half - and Miguel carries that weight. What We Owe Each Other – and he's only ever fed entitled egos. Not his family, of course, but he's been burned. He's had more than his fair share of it.

He doesn't owe the world shit, he thinks.

He doesn't owe you shit.

It doesn't help that he's been stuck in place, grasping at cushion covers and a raggedy blanket. Trying not to drown in the heady scent of you, he's been dragging thick fingers over the fabric as if in a trance. You don't owe him anything, either. Nary an apology, an explanation; so much as a sorry spilling from pretty lips in that way where they quiver like a gentle flame.

He's touched them, felt them drag across his skin like the finest silk, and dropped to his knees in search of something you've never given him. It doesn't matter if you don't; kiss him , that is; the swirling, desperate sort that leaves him heaving and creaking and begging for more. He thinks he'd still scuff up the denim at his knees if you asked, regardless - he'd do anything , if it was for you.

It's not realistic to expect anything from you. You don't need to tell him where you've gone or why you've left so early. You don't need to, and yet he finds himself reaching for his phone.

Miguel sends a well placed message; deft fingers tapping away at the screen. Before he changes his mind, it's sent; and he's chewing his lip whilst waiting for a steady three dots. Lyla is slower than usual, but she comes through. She doesn't ask questions - because she knows him better than he knows himself - and gives him a thumbs up.

They'll call each other later, that much he's sure of, but for now he reads between the lines. Short bursts of text, like firecrackers flashing across a night sky, and only through nonsensical emojis and odd slang can they understand each other.

This part, he can do. And he'll do whatever he needs to, not what he owes.

~~~

You make it to Pam's just after it opens.

At 7 o'clock sharp, you've made the journey; in an empty subway car, spilling out onto the streets like treacle left in the neck of a bottle. It's not quite a squeeze, passing by only a handful of people, with nothing but a jacket thrown over last night's clothes. In a daze, you realise too late: it's Miguel's. A dusty, worn thing; brown leather crackling at the sleeves and heavy on your shoulders. It feels like a hug, and it feels like him : warm and stiff. It smells like him too, and you bury your nose in the collar on the subway, sleeves kissing your palm like his hand is in yours.

It's a feeling that takes you all the way to the doors: past the slats bolted shut and down a familiar alley. You push past them, sneakers on slick tiles, and give a weak smile to the woman that perks up from behind the counter, kicking away the mop and bucket.

"Hiya, welcome to Pam's! How can I–"

"Oh, God , no." You wave her off. "Take your time. I need a minute, if that's okay."

Settling on the barstool, you watch as the young woman smiles, picking up a rag and wiping at the counter. You sit in it, for a while.

Dregs drip in through the front. The bell at the top of the door chimes, tinny and cheerful in the relative gloom of a quiet morning.

It's cold , outside. Autumn, biting at your fingers and nose. Eventually you opt for a coffee, piping hot to stave off that chill. Bitter, the aftertaste lingers at the back of your throat. You find yourself picking at the chipped mug, chasing away that taste with fluffy pancakes. The combination doesn't feel quite the same – not after many a morning with your roommate.

You settle into the seat. You wrap that old jacket around you. You sip at tart coffee and pick at your nails. A quiet morning, one to yourself, one to keep hidden at the crook of your chest. Some semblance of peace , wrapped up in the spindles of a dandelion. That is to say; delicate and fleeting, whipped away by the breeze.

You've decided not to think too hard about it. That kind of thinking ends dangerously, you've realised: with long, hot nights spent tossing and turning. It ends with a head full of cotton, and a pounding at your chest. With blood, with tears, with a stranger in your bed. And so, you go for the cleaner option. The safer one, all things considered, that's less likely to end in a broken heart.

You float around for a while. Walking without a real destination, trying to ground yourself. Eventually, you end up home, opening the door to an empty apartment. There's no traces left of a night spent in Miguel's arms. Good, you think, slipping your shoes off at the door. It doesn't feel good , but if you say it enough times you just might believe it.

The cleaner option; the one with less gristle and bone; is a familiar one. You settle into a shower; steamy and soapy, taking your time to clean out the blood from under your fingernails. The grime, the dirt ; you watch it swirl into the drain, hands running across soft flesh. You try to do it like Jamie did, once upon a time. It doesn't feel right, and has you leaning onto the cool tile. The shower head sputters, a shaky pressure on your back but you lean into it and close your eyes. You rub a hand at the crook of your chest, and then down, down, down, circling your breast and then following the curve of hips to the apex of your legs. Tipping your head, letting the hot water stream through your hair and then your back; and you touch, feel , and you can almost taste him ; sweet and saccharine Miguel, at your lips.

With two fingers flat against your clit, you rub little circles at the nub, dipping into your hole for much needed wetness. Your other hand travels up soft skin, pads of your fingers grazing collarbone, and then they curl around your neck. With a little pressure, your thumb grazes your jaw. Like he does, except your hands aren't as deliciously rough or as large. You slip a finger in, and then two, water pounding your back and eyes screwed. You push past that initial tightness, searching for a little give. When it comes, cunt clenching around your fingers, just shy of that sweet spot as you press your clit with the heel of your palm; you're imagining it's your roommate. He'd wrap those thick forearms around you, press his cock to the crest of your back and touch you like you deserve.

You do it like Miguel would, reverent , touching you as if you were clay at a potter's wheel. In the hands of God herself, you cum; falling, falling, falling; tumbling down white water rapids and spit back up into the rushing water. You're panting, now, out of breath.

When you sink onto your bed, you realise it's not quite enough. Still in a fluffy robe, steam curls from your skin like clouds – ones that smell of cheap body wash and shampoo. Before you know it, you're reaching for your phone, sending two quick messages to a certain somebody.

[Sent: 15:32]

hey mig

[Sent: 15:32]

where did u go?

You don't expect a quick reply - he's never been much of a texter. But those three dots pop up in no time at all, much to your surprise.

[Received: 15:33]

Out.

[Received: 15:33]

Running errands.

It's succinct and to the point – of which you expect nothing else from Miguel. Your thumbs fly to the screen to reply but another message tugs the rug out from under your shaky legs.

[Received: 15:35]

Is everything okay?

[Sent: 15:35]

yeah

[Sent: 15:36]

all good

When that provides no response, you're left chewing on your lip, anxious. He's seen the message, he's read the message; but for some reason, several minutes go by and there's no response.

You're ready to give up and chalk it to your roommate's hot-and-cold nature, when your phone rings.

Immediately, you pick up.

" Don't believe you." His voice rings out, tinny, nestled amongst the covers.

"Hey, Mig." You settle down on the bed, putting him on speaker and placing it by your ears.

" Did you hear what I said?" His tone is deep and intense, making you shiver. It's not quite the same, of course, but you're reminded of nights spent with his lips tucked close the shell of your ear.

You swallow. "Yeah. I… I did."

" You sure? Because you suck at lying."

"Don't be an asshole."

" Think I get a free pass when you disappear for the whole day."

You roll your eyes. “You didn't call–”

“ Would you have answered?”

Ouch. He sounds frustrated, the quiet chatter of his background bathed in heavy silence. Silence thick with tension, and you almost choke on it.

He breaks it with a heavy sigh. “ You okay? ”

“No. Not really.”

“ Okay. ” He lets it sit for a while, before saying, “ I'll be home, soon. There's leftovers in the fridge, and you should eat, sweetheart. You want anything from the store? ”

His voice is so, so soft. It crackles like kindling on a fire: warmth that blooms and spreads to your chest. Like slipping off frozen gloves to thaw off in front of a heater, and he just makes you feel impossibly warm.

“Not really, thanks.” You mumble it, and hear a satisfied grunt from the other end. Before you change your mind, you say, “Sorry. M'sorry.”

Miguel gives a light chuckle and you think you can hear him smile, the kind you always chase after a stupid argument: one that tugs at the corners of his pretty lips.

“ You've got nothin' to be sorry about .”

He gives you a moment to feel the weight of his words, and ends the call. That heat at your chest blooms.

If Miguel O'Hara is the Sun, then maybe you don't mind being pulled into his orbit; bathing in steady light and warmth.

~~~

He comes home with flowers. A beautiful bouquet; delicate and balanced, featherlight wildflowers and brush, interspersed with sprays of blue and purple and pink. It's wonderfully dense, reminding you of the tangles of colour a child might decorate a picture with in wobbly crayon. Simply put, it's nothing short of a vision, and you notice how delicately he places it on the dining table.

With the rest of the grocery bags, Miguel clatters in, and you can't help but be curious. You're poking through the bags, sitting on the counter as he puts them away – after offering to help, of course, but he bats you away easily. Your bare legs bristle in the chill brought on by the window cracked open, and he just breezes past.

The cabinet opens with a thud , and your roommate busies himself with putting away food. Carefully, you watch the way the muscles of his back flexes this way and that - cut and lean under that thin sweater. He’s otherwise occupied, and so you take the opportunity to stare, playing with a loose string at the hem of silky shorts. And so, it makes you jump when your phone buzzes beside you. Innocuously, you glance at the notification, and your eyes go wide.

“Who’s that?” Miguel asks, voice light. With that freaky sixth sense of his, he doesn’t need to turn around to know, it seems.

“Lyla.” You murmur, reading the rest of the message.

“ ...And? ”

“Uh. Well…” Blinking, you can’t quite believe what she’s asking. “ Girl’s Night . I-I mean… she’s asking me to come with her for a Girl’s Night.”

“Really?” His tone is surprising, and you can hear how he beams by its lilting nature. Maybe he’s laughing at you, maybe he’s not, but you snap back regardless.

“ ... don’t act so surprised.”

“ You sound surprised.” He laughs.

“It’s different when I do it.” You say simply. “I just… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t even know we were close enough to–”

“Bullshit. You text her all the time.”

“A couple of times, Mig.” You correct him, trying to pin down a suitable response to give Lyla. You draw a blank. “I don’t want her to feel like she has to, or anything.”

He turns around, sleeves still rolled up. The look he gives makes you wither: one that could say about a million things. You think it means cut the crap , but he could just be constipated: you haven't quite mastered the art of reading Miguel O’Hara.

“Do you want to go?” He gets closer, hand flat on the counter next to your thigh.

You nod, and his hand creeps up and up.

Giving you a little smile, he shrugs. “Then go.”

It makes you shy. Bashful , even; and you’re wriggling as he squeezes the flesh. A hand on his forearm, and he’s close; so much so that all you can feel is the press of skin, and feel gentle breath fluttering past your cheek. You’re stuck underneath the gaze of his pretty lashes, and entranced at the way he licks his even prettier lips. A sudden thought seizes you - so heavy it makes your chest tight and leaden.

Oh. You want to kiss him.

In a moment, it’s gone. A broad palm nudges your thigh aside, and you’re shifting so he can reach the drawers just by your legs. You oblige, falling back into familiar routine.

Life moves on. Like Miguel said it would, and you find yourself entwined with the idea of time passing. Lying awake each night, picking out sand from underneath your fingernails, after clawing your way out of the hourglass. Steady, slow dregs; and it's tipped over each morning, restarting the clock.

The flowers disappear from the dining table. Miguel retreats into the folds and dark corners of your apartment; you see him less and less. Passing ships in the night, you seem to miss each other by a fraction of a second. All of a sudden he's busy , and all of a sudden you're swamped with work. You only see each other at night, looking out for the bits and pieces left as proof of life: sometimes he'll leave a hot flask out for you in the mornings, and you'll greet him with a cheesy soap in the evenings. If he's not leaving later and later after work, that is.

He looks tired, you note. Exhausted; prone to little yawns as you turn to him every now and then whilst watching on the couch. It's sweet, the way his frown has made way to a dopey smile, but it's frayed at the edges, tinged with something you can't quite place. You let him sleep that night, bringing pillows to lay his head on, and wrapping him up in that old blanket.

Girl's night creeps up on you. It shakes you by the shoulders when you collapse on the sofa after a long day – and you're rushing to get ready. There's no Miguel to make sly remarks or prod you into action, this time. You wonder what he'd say about what you're wearing; a leftover dress buried in boxes from your ex's apartment.

Short, tight, snug; it has you feeling glamorous – but you hope it doesn't look as fanciful as it feels. Too much; yet again, you're worried about being too much. Even though you're running a little late, you take the time to carefully apply makeup; something shiny on your lids, a dab of blush, and gloss slathered onto your lips. When you sling on little heels, and snatch a petite bag from the hooks near the door, there's barely enough time to catch that last glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Down and out you go, into a dusky night.

~~~

“I had to go through her manager– and wait, can you believe this girl has a fucking manager, now?” Lyla bats at MJ's shoulder, and the redhead laughs good-naturedly.

“It's not– she's exaggerating! My manager's just my mom, I swear.”

“It's a good thing, no?” You smile, taking a healthy swig of a brightly coloured cocktail.

“It means she is booked, and–” Lyla hiccups, raising an unsteady glass that threatens to tip. MJ straightens her elbow instinctually, before raising her own. “ – very busy .”

It's your turn to laugh, glass held high in the air. With a clink , there's a clash of crystal that's all but drowned out by the chatter in the upscale bar.

Somewhere fancy, courtesy of Lyla. One of those places that serves tiny portions in big, empty plates, a fusion of cultural food with white, upper class owners. No-doubt the result of summering somewhere in the ever-broad global South , Lyla had said slyly, under the lip of a menu.

There's powdered sugar on the rim of your flute. It dissolves on your tongue. You down the rest. Sickly sweet, and you wipe what drips onto your lips.

It has you checking your phone. Miguel hasn't called, not that you were expecting anything. Whilst Lyla and MJ talk, you scroll mindlessly through his chat; a smattering of one word answers. Missed calls. Unanswered messages.

" –what about you, babe?"

Your eyes snap back up to meet Lyla's, expectant.

"Uhhh…"

"Nevermind." Sharp eyes travel to your phone, and there's a flash of recognition. "Miggy said you're in school. He said you're gonna graduate early, this year."

"He said that?" You're confused. "I mean… I'm trying but it's not looking like that, right now."

She wags a finger, shaking her head like she's trying to remember something. "No, no, he seemed adamant. Said you're working hard, doing well."

"Doing better ." You correct her, shyly.

" Bullshit. " She says it the way Miguel does, and it makes you laugh. You see it now; he's the product of the people he loves. A kind of Frankenstein's monster, he's stitched together those bits and pieces; he's made himself beautiful. You wonder what piece of you he carries. If he even holds you that close to his chest.

"I bet you're doing amazing. " MJ finishes. Her smile is warm, and copper-coloured; it feels hazy and ambered in your little corner. "Better than me, anyways. I would rather die than go back to college."

"Back?" You ask.

"Oh, of course! You don't know." She giggles, leaning in like she's about to say something scandalous - the drink is clearly doing its job. Her next words are an exaggerated stage whisper. "I dropped out."

" Seriously? " You play along, with faux shock.

"...damn right she did." Lyla gives a drunken wave to a nearby waiter, asking for another glass of wine. Something expensive, she whispers, giving a deceptive smile.

"It just wasn't for me, I guess. I went because everyone around me was going, even Pete. Uhh, English Lit, or something. And it didn't… I–I mean it just wasn't–"

"It didn't click."

" Right!" She snaps her fingers. "It was too much. I didn't know what I was doing, I was 18, for God's sake. Think I stuck at it for a bit too long, honestly."

"...and the world didn't explode." You breathe.

MJ answers with a knowing nod. She chugs the rest of a crisp Mojito, raising the empty glass once more.

"To doing better ."

You're quick to follow. "To doing better."

Lyla frowns, looking for a glass that's tucked into the corner. The room must be spinning already, with the way she pats around for it. You nudge it towards her with an elbow, and she's raucous; crumpling into a fit of giggles.

One drink turns to two, two turns to three, and then four ; until you're ready to spill out onto the busy strip. When the waiter places a slip of paper into the centre, one with so many zeroes it makes your eyes bulge, you don't even have to pretend to reach for your wallet. Gleefully, Lyla picks up the bill, sliding a shiny Amex card onto the dish.

She's generous, you note, as she buys a bottle of wine to go when MJ picks up her bag. She's perceptive, too. You see it when MJ wrings her hands, still tipsy and stuttering in her heels as you pile onto the street. She's making apologies already - I've got an early start and need to see my May - but Lyla intercepts. There's the gentle clink of a bottle thrust into her hands, something expensive, and she kisses the apples of her cheeks before sending her off in a taxi.

Her own cheeks are ruddy, rosy with drink and she splits into a wide smile. The back of her hand comes up to your neck. Warm , she whispers, before linking arms with you like a schoolgirl off to do something they shouldn't.

Eventually, with shaky legs, you end up in a nightclub. She knows someone who knows someone, apparently, and you're ushered into a packed place just off 76th. Lights and pounding music, a flurry of limbs; you let the crowd take you in. If this is what it means to be a part of a whole; some writhing, heaving beast, to be more than your hand in someone else's and theirs in yours; then you could live here forever, you think. Forever, for the night, for the next ten minutes; you blink , and time passes.

You're having fun, you think. Letting the blood rush to your head, hips swaying to the music and you don't push away the quiet snap of a phone camera, nor it's red recording light. Dancing, singing, many seem to be pulled into orbit around you. This is how it works , pushed into an ebb and flow of people held together by broken lyrics and a thumping bassline. You let it wash over you, all-consuming, dragging yourself into murky depths.

You're in a booth, now, anchored by a dainty hand around your wrist. Pupils blown, she cups your face to inspect you, to figure out where you've gone. Someone's bought you a drink, there's a stranger's arm around your shoulders, but Lyla pushes them both away. Too much? It's a question, of which you shake your head firmly - lolling and with a distinct lack of fine motor skills - no. Not enough.

You blink. Bitter liquor hits your throat, and you chase the taste of somebody else's lips. A stranger, and even under the influence you know it doesn't feel right. Bile rises, and you're gone, clamping onto your stomach and trying not to hurl.

You blink. You're on the sidewalk, with a heavy head on someone's shoulder. The strap of your heels dig into your ankles and you fumble with it, trying to stop the road from spinning. Lyla holds you up, not much more up to task than you are.

A car pulls up, and at first you don't recognise it; entranced by shiny rims coming to a stop. You look up, still buried in Lyla's thick jacket; and you see it. You see him.

Miguel's wearing glasses. That's the first thing you notice, stumbling to your feet. Immediately, your face cracks into a dopey smile, leaning onto the lip of the open window. He gives you a once over, swallowing thickly, brows drawn.

Quiet chatter flys straight over your head. Lyla arguing, Miguel wagging a finger at her; but all you can see is him. It's like you've got blinkers on, tunnel vision making you focus on the curve of cheekbone, and the way his eyes scrunch up around black rims and glass.

You clamber into the backseat.

“Get in, Ly.”

The other woman seems resolute. “ M'not –”

“Did you take something?”

“Fuck you.” Flashing a middle finger, she wraps up her coat like a robe, walking away down the road.

He's adamant, driving up next to her. You keep your head on the glass where it's cool.

“Let me take you home. Please. ”

Frowning, she stops. When he leans over to open the passenger's side, she slips off her boots, and sidles in.

Their voices feel like a blur. You can barely register, only picking up half of the words hissed under their breath.

“... I called you, you can't give me a lecture…”

“...not fair, Lyla…. can't keep babysitting…”

“... fucking hypocrite… not the only one… I'm going through some shit…”

“...too far…. always taking it too…”

He drops her off outside of the apartment. From the backseat, you're sobering up; able to catch his heavy sigh as he watches her through the window. It's only when he sees her walk in does he turn to you, passing bottled water kept in the console.

“You want to come out to the front?”

You like the way he says it, for some reason. Any anger or frustration he had towards Lyla dissipates. He doesn't bring that into a quiet conversation with you.

He's too solemn, too serious, and so you clamber into the front over the console; limbs and legs everywhere, as obnoxiously as you can. A slight elbow to his chest, a hand clutching his shirt; you want to make him laugh. As you settle onto the seat, you see it: huffing dramatically, he gives you a small smile.

Miguel reverses back out onto the road.

You blink, and you're home. Legs still shaky, he helps you up the stairs, settling you onto the sofa. Car keys clink onto the dish by the door, and he slips off his coat – that brown one, your favourite, you think.

Fumbling with the strap of your heels, it must be too painful for him to watch as Miguel settles by your feet. His big, strong hands are surprisingly deft when he undoes the dainty buckle.

“Are you mad at me?” Meekishly, you watch and he shakes his head, not making eye-contact. Maybe it's the alcohol, but you're staring; looking for that light in his eyes amongst the dark room.

Now, he looks up. “What?”

“M'just looking.” You say, chewing the inside of your cheek as one shoe slips off. “ I'm not allowed to look?”

The other one comes off, and he hisses when he spots a little cut where the strap dug into your ankle. He can't help it, rolling it gently in his hands, trying to ease the pain with a massage.

“You wear glasses.” You say it softly, more to yourself than to anyone else. Giggling now, you cradle his face and he sits up. “I didn't know that.”

“ That's not – I've always worn glasses. You're just not paying attention.” He shrugs lazily, but he's smiling.

“Not true , Mig. I would've noticed.”

“You're drunk–”

“When it's you, I always pay attention.” Absent-mindedly, your hand curls into his hair. He keens . “Like… your hair's getting longer.”

Gently, he shakes out of your grip, getting up. “I know, I know. I need a haircut.”

“I like it.” Starry-eyed, you look up at him. “You're so pretty, Mig.”

It makes him heave. Still tipsy, your legs spread ever so slightly, hand taking his and pulling him closer. Placing his hand on your thigh, you let it trace up, up, up, catching at the hem of your short dress.

He practically caves in, collapsing next to you on the couch.

“You should–” His eyes are glassy as you ease yourself onto his lap. “ F-Fuck . You should go to bed, sweetheart.”

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you roll your hips, watching as he groans wantonly.

“But I'm not tired.” His hand ends up on your waist, applying just the right amount of pressure. Underneath, you can feel him stir, increasingly hard under loose sweats. “And you haven't touched me in weeks. ”

You're exaggerating, but it goes to his head anyway. He buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, whispering into the bare skin.

“I know, I know…”

“Just the tip, Miguel.” You're grinding your clit onto him, pussy barely covered by a thin thong. Whispered into the shell of his ear, you're a siren, honeyed words dangerously close to breaking him down. “Just the tip, and I promise , I'll let it go. Please , baby.”

Your dress rides up, and his hands come down to palm at your ass.

“ Please…” You're pleading, lips on his neck as he squeezes, forcing you down to hump directly over his cock.

“Oh, shit.” His hips jump once, twice; and then he stills, hands at your hips and ass to stop you.

Desperate, you whine, trying to fight against it. He doesn't let up, hand cradling your chin so you can look him in the eye.

“ Bed .” He says, shakily. “Not like this.”

He slips you off, noticeably adjusting his pants. Legs spread wide, head tipped back as he sighs; he looks delicious , and you're fighting off the urge to let him take you right there and then.

You stumble through the little hallway, pushing past some doors. Something clatters into your thigh, and you hear a dull thud as another thing falls to the floor. Frustrated, you strip down to your underwear, something light and lacy and it leaves very little to the imagination.

There's a bed, and you collapse on it; swimming in the silky sheets. It smells like him - musky and oaky and gentle - and you think you must be dreaming already. And then, you sit up, realising too late - this isn't your room.

Miguel wasn't too far off, hearing the thumping and clattering; hesitant as he opens the door. You're wrapped up like a present, spilling out of lingerie on his bed. He swallows, turning away to dig into his wardrobe, intending to pull out a baggy shirt for you.

“ Miguel .” You croak, but he ignores the want in your voice, so heavy it goes straight to his cock. “Miguel, please. ”

All his shirts blend together. He can't concentrate.

“Do you think I don't want it? Because I do, fuck, I need it. So bad, baby, please.” Your body heaves with a half sob.

Heart splintering, he turns. Finally, you meet his eye. You spread your legs.

“ Here. Right here .” You tap your clothed cunt with shaky fingers, pulling your thong to the side. His eyes drink it up, the way you glisten when your cunt eats up the fabric. You know he's watching, and you take advantage of it, circling your clit with the pads of two fingers. “Like this . When I touch myself, I think of you… d-did you know that?”

Swallowing roughly, he can't take his eyes off of you.

“What… What else?” He croaks.

“I think of your tongue, a-at my pussy. And your fingers… God. ” You slip a finger in, and he watches as your cunt clenches around it; gushing and sloppy. “Your l-lips. Meant it, before. When I said you were pretty. Want to sit on that pretty face and watch you melt– oh-h- fuck- ”

He wants to lick it up, all that slick that sluices from your hole. His mouth waters, just thinking about it.

“Put another one in, for me.” He says it low, sinking to his knees to watch you fuck yourself.

Nodding, you oblige.

“Does it feel good?”

“ Yes. ” You don't hesitate.

“Can you fit another one? Want to see how good she looks when she comes, sweetheart.”

Three fingers in, now, and he slides your thong a little further aside; reaching up to press his thumb to your clit. Light streams in from blinds cracked open and highlights your thighs perfectly. Nevertheless, he adjusts his glasses to make sure he doesn't miss anything.

The twitch of your leg, the way your hand cramps up, the way your lips curl into a delicious O - he sees it all, commits it to memory.

“ Faster , please.”

“ Doesn't –” You're frustrated, clearly chasing something that refuses to surface. “Not the same. Can't fucking reach. ”

He titters, nipping at your thighs and soothing the bites with the flat of his tongue.

“Poor baby. Will you let me help?”

Fervently, you nod, slipping out your fingers as he takes off his glasses. They're discarded, too foggy to be useful right now.

“Did I tell you to take them out?” He sighs and gestures for your hand. Wrapping his lips around them he sucks them clean, humming lightly. He pats your clit with a wet slap, content. “Put two fingers in, sweetheart.”

Doing as he says, your head feels full - cotton wool and bubble wrap, only able to focus on the pleasure building behind your clit. And when he slots two fingers in next to yours , it rips out a gravelly moan.

“ Here? ” He says dragging himself deeper, curling his fingers up. “Or is it… here? ”

You groan, limp against his hand as you feel impossibly full. It reminds you of the stretch of his cock; creaming around the base of his two fingers and yours. That wonderful curl as he pumps himself in and out, cupping your hand in the process to make sure you match his pace. He can feel your walls spasm around him, impossibly soft and velveteen.

“Can't say no to you,” His eyes are low, grunting as he palms himself roughly. “Even though… fuck … even though I should.”

It's wet, the slap slap slap of skin against skin echoing in his room. Miguel sits up, pressing his lips to your neck, and you take the opportunity to slip your other hand into his sweats. You start pumping, in time with his ministrations, eyes blown as you swipe your thumb over his weeping slit.

You know he likes it rough, and you jerk him into your palm; fast and hard and you watch as he matches your pace. Even now, you're competing, trying to catch the him up; to see who can make the other cum first.

You push back on his fingers, hips slotting against his, whispering nonsense into his neck. You're too fucked out to care; confessions you never thought would see the light of day. All the little things you like about him, things he says, things he does; and you don't even register the ochred flush smattered along the ridge of cheekbone.

He spills into your hand, and you're quick to follow; cumming around him as his fingers stutter in and out. It feels good , dangerously so, and has you pressing shaky kisses around his mouth, and nipping at his bottom lip.

He stills, but you're greedy, aching for more. You want him in you; seating his thick cock deep inside, painting your walls with hot cum, and pushing it back in with deft fingers. Every part of you is on fire, barely satiated by your heated foray.

You tip back onto the bed, and he joins you; caging you in with thick forearms, looking at you like you've stolen all the stars in the sky. That feeling , again, slams into your chest like a bullet. Messy hair, ruddy cheeks, hand gently tracing your jaw; he looks gone, and oh so soft. You want to kiss him ; and it's a thought that sticks, embedding itself somewhere you can't reach to dig it out.

“ Miguel .” You whisper, enough alcohol at the edges of your mind to stop thinking and spill your guts to him, unfiltered. “Are you sleeping with someone else?”

His eyes flit over your face before answering and he shakes his head.

“No. No. Just you. Only you.”

“ Don't believe you .” But you want to. So, so desperately. “Promise me?”

“I promise, sweetheart.” He swallows. “Are you?”

“No. Don't think I could if I tried.” It comes out watery, stuck at the back of your throat.

He just looks, for a moment, cradling the back of your head.

“I want to kiss you.” It spills out from your lips.

“I know.”

“Then why won't you kiss me?”

“Not a good idea.” He strains, kissing your forehead, and then each cheek. Hesitating, he places a gentle peck to your chin. “Ask me tomorrow.”

He says it simply, too easily; and it makes you want to sob. When Miguel slips away, and you hear the sound of a light turned on in the bathroom, you can't move. Catatonic; you blink, and he's cleaned you up, and slipped a shirt over your shoulders. Laying back in his bed, you watch as he lingers by the doorway, shrouded in shadow.

Goodnight. Y ou think you say it out loud, but it echoes in your head.

He says back, but not really. Instead, he leaves that goodnight hanging by the doorway like an old coat, and you wrap it over your shoulders.

It keeps you a little warmer through the night.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #angst #heavy angst #mutual pining

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ozzgin · 10 months ago

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Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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iceiceicecold · 9 months ago

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What Your Favorite Band of Brothers character says about you (revamped and based on personal experiences)

Winters- You’re either a pretty level headed person or your life is in complete shambles and you find comfort in characters that know how to handle stress.

Nixon- You love a good self destructive character and more than likely see yourself in them. Also, how is your undiagnosed mental illness treating u lately?

Lipton- You just want to be held and cared for so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

Speirs- You most DEFINITELY read wattpad stories as a kid. The mafia kind. You’re also unnecessarily horny on the internet and probably say he’s ��Lana-coded.”

Roe- You love a good tragic and tortured character, I’ll give you that. You also listen to boygenius and love religious imagery.

Babe- I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you’re on some type of lgbt or autism spectrum.

Liebgott- You have a really weird self-confidence complex and read a LOT of enemies to lovers. I’m lowkey scared of you even though you’ve probably never hit anyone in your life.

Webster- You’re an artist at heart and view the world in a way that might set you apart from your peers. You can never and will never tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. Also you call grown men “babygirl.”

Guarnere- You have TERRIBLE taste in men and can never tell the difference between being mean or flirting.

Toye- Ditto ^ but also may I add you probably have a thing for people in uniform.

Buck- You are a very simple person. You like everything to just be kind of normal and calm all of the time. Sometimes you dip your toes in the water, but it’s more of a once a year kind of thing. Your favorite superhero as a kid was Captain America.

Luz- You are just cool. Very Ferris Beuller, Bill and Ted, Matthew Lillard kind of cool. You’re also probably transmasc or into guys to some degree.

Shifty- You’re either one of those “omg smol bean” people or you just love a good ray of sunshine kind of character. Your favorite pony as a kid was probably Fluttershy.

Malarkey- I’m so deeply upset just looking into your eyes dawg you need to take a nap and book a therapy session. Not a single one of you guys is completely and totally stable.

Renee- You so desperately wanted this show to pass the bechdel test and wished more women were included in the production. You’re also into women.

Perconte- You’re either really cool or you’re really annoying. No inbetween.

Bull- You really liked the SNL “Big Boy” skit with SZA

Muck- You want to be the funny friend so bad and you’re still not sure if you’ve earned that title yet. Mad respect though bc I know ur ass has seen supernatural in full. More than once.

Welsh, Penkala, Spina, Talbert, Grant, Martin, Penkala, Hoobler, Skinny- Either you’re lying to be different or you genuinely love a good underrated background character.

Blithe- Mm you’re lying lol

Sobel- Hey, girl! What the fuck!

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mphoenix-7 · 5 months ago

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Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 1: The Mission

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,585

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Just a reposting of my story on Wattpad to help generate attention for it! Please go give it some love if you’re liking it so far. My user name is Emily7love or just look up the title.

Master List | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 1

"Bravo 7-1, this is Bravo 0-7, give me a sit rep on your position, over."

Soap is currently kneeling in some brush, staring at the small military camp in front of him when the radio call comes through. Despite the fact that he'd most likely need to be adjusting the volume up soon on his ear piece, he still turns it down a little for now.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass." He all but growls back to Ghost. His hand tenses on his rifle at even saying those numbers. Bravo 7-4.

You were Bravo 7-4. Also known as (y/n) "States" (l/n). The all too grumpy Sergeant by the callsign Bravo 7-1 was John "Soap" MacTavish. Also known as the biggest pain in your ass since you joined up with Captain Price's Task Force about six months ago.

Now anyone who knew Soap would be shocked to hear you say that you thought he was literally the worst and most insufferable human being to ever stain the Earth. To everyone else, Soap was a funny, charismatic, rather easy-going, and quite friendly guy. Everyone loved Soap. He was the golden boy of the Task Force, of the entire base. People were just naturally drawn to him, and his warm personality.

You can't say you blame people for being shocked when they learn just how much you can't stand him. Cause all those things about Soap were true. He was funny, and friendly, and relaxed, and just a great guy to be around. He was all those things when he wasn't around you. The second you stepped into the picture, his amused grin turned into a stiff scowl. His sparkling eyes turned hard. His relaxed posture turned rigid.

Yeah, John "Soap" MacTavish hated you. And you hated him.

Why did he hate you? You weren't entirely sure. It just seemed like it has always been that way since day one.

You transferred into the Task Force at the request of Captain Price himself. Originally, you had been stationed at a military base in the United States, where you were from. Then one day your commanding officer called you into his office and told you that you'd been given a new assignment. You would be working with a British Task Force across the pond for the next year. A group of four SAS men. If things worked out, then you'd be staying there indefinitely.

You'd been thrilled at the news. You didn't join the military only for the benefits and the opportunity to serve, but for the opportunity to travel and to potentially live somewhere else in the world. Getting to be that while also being SAS was the dream. You worked so hard to get to where you were today. Sleepless nights of studying, hard days of working out and trying to improve and hone your skills, and now it was finally happening. You were being sent off to a new base and a new team. And not just any team, an elite task force. You'd finally been selected.

You met the whole team day one of your arrival. The first person you met was Captain John Price. He was a friendly but very stern man. The no nonsense type of guy. He gave you a tour of the base, and showed you to the female barracks. Once you were semi-settled in (all your belongings piled into your room) you went to meet the other members of your new Task Force.

Price introduced you to each teammate. They'd all been in his office by the time you and Price showed up. Two had been seated, and one was standing despite there being enough chairs. That had been Soap.

"Alright you lot, here she is. This is (y/n) (l/n). Straight from across the pond." Price introduced you. "(Y/n), these are boys of the 141. This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick."

"You can also call me Gaz." Kyle fills in, giving you a nod and a handshake. "It's nice to have someone from the States joining us." He was the one responsible for your callsign being States.

"This is your Lieutenant. Simon Riley. He goes strictly by Ghost." Price continues. Ghost doesn't make a move to shake your hand. He just stayed quiet. Didn't even give you a nod of any kind. Quite intimidating coming from a guy wearing a skull over his face. "And lastly, this is-"

"Soap." The man barks out before Price can say anything. You remember hearing Price sigh before finishing his sentence. "Sergeant John MacTavish."

"You can call me Soap though. Nothing else." His voice was harsh, and carried a tone of warning. If you to call him by anything else other than his callsign, there were going to be harsh consequences.

His arms were folded across his chest, and he'd glared at you during the whole introduction. It made you so nervous, the reactions you got from both Soap and Ghost. Price assured you later though that they would come around. They just needed to warm up to you. He'd been 50% correct.

At the time, Ghost had been the most terrifying of three, and the one you worried you wouldn't be able to connect with (boy had you been foolish). At the time though, Soap had at least said something to you. Ghost never said a word or even acknowledged you. And when Ghost did talk to you, it was always in a gruff voice like you were annoying him. But over time, you came to realize that was just who Ghost was. It wasn't anything personal. He was like that with literally everyone. It was rare to catch him laughing or to hear his gruff voice become lighter.

Soap, on the other hand, also spoke to you the way Ghost did, but he only used that tone with you. He was so cheery and light when speaking with the guys. Even with strangers, his voice may have been slightly more gruff, but never as harsh as when he spoke to you.

His personality was vastly different around the others as well. Whereas he could joke, laugh, and relax around them, he was the opposite around you. You thought for a moment that maybe he was sexiest and just didn't like women, though every woman he spoke to around base, he was the kindest and most respectful guy.

Now six months later, not much had changed. Soap still spoke to you in a gruff voice. He still scowled when you entered a room. He still glared at you any time he needed to look at you. He had gotten more "comfortable" around you. But really that just meat he was far more comfortable with insulting you directly. From the way you shoot to the way you eat, he could find anything to gripe about. And eventually, you decided that if he was going to be difficult, then you'd return the favor.

The first time you insulted him back, he looked shocked, then just flat out angry. Your encounters went from quiet insults being thrown back and forth and dirty looks to all out yelling at each other. Never physical fights, but Soap had punched a hole in the wall during one particularly bad argument.

The others couldn't stand you fighting. Gaz would do everything in his power to keep you separated and distracted from each other so you wouldn't start. Ghost tried to never be involved, but he would sometimes break up the fights by using his scary lieutenant voice and sending you both to different parts of the base to cool off. Price... he got the most upset. He was normally so calm under pressure but hearing you and Soap bicker pushed him to the limit. He'd yell at you both until he turned red and then normally punish you by making you do extra cleaning, harder workouts, or something else just as labor intensive.

You lost count of how many times you'd been in his office with Soap, getting reprimanded on your behavior. One of the worst had been when Soap actively tried to get you kicked off the team while you were sitting right there.

"She is a right pain in the arse, Price! I didn't even start it this time!" He claims, doing everything he could not to look at you.

"Oh blow it out your ass, Soap. You were giving me a look."

"Then don't fucking look at me." Soap growls through his teeth.

Price slams his fist onto the table, making you both jump a little and halt your bickering for a moment. "Can you two shut the hell up? It's just constant with you. I have had a headache for five fucking days cause of you idiots. What is it going to take for you two to get along?"

Soap is quick with his answer. "All this could be solved if you just deported her little ass back to the US. Seriously Price, she's caused nothing but trouble since she got here."

"I am right here, Soap." You huff out a laugh, not too shocked he'd say something like that though.

"I wish you weren't." He throws back, making Price intervene again.

"Enough! She's not going anywhere, Soap. Whether you like it or not, she brings in a skill set we are missing in this team."

"Like hell she doesn't! We can find someone else." He argues, earning a glare from Price.

"She is staying. I signed a contract that she stays for a year. If we break that, we lose our funding, our reputation, and a whole lot more." Price says, making Soap cross his arms and sit back in his chair.

"So after however many months she has left, we can get rid of her?"

"You'll be lucky if I keep you once your contract expires!" He shouts at Soap, which shuts the Scot up. Sighing, Price continues. "I will reassess at the end of year once States' contract has expired." He says more calmly, which makes your heart sink and Soap smirk.

You were dismissed then, but Price had you stay back. Probably to keep you and Soap from walking with each other, but he also has a few words for you. He reassured you that you were doing great. That you truly did bring a lot to their team and that he was happy to have you there.

"Are you going to send me back at the end of the year?" You'd asked him before you left, looking over your shoulder by the door while he stayed seated at his desk.

"Don't worry about that now, States. But know, I like having you here, and remember, it takes both of to sign the renewal contract."

That gave you hope. Price most likely would want to keep you, but he was also going to leave it up to you to decide whether or not you wanted to stay. At the same time, if things continued the way they were, it wasn't going to be good for team morale. If Price had to pick between you and Soap, you were sure he'd pick Soap. He'd been with the team longer and knew them far better than you did. This was your dream though. Being SAS. It could take years before you got another team. You liked Price, Ghost and Gaz. Could you live with Soap?

That meeting was only three weeks ago. You'd been with the Task Force for almost six months. Halfway through.

Your current mission landed you in Naryn, Kyrgyzsta. You were hunting down a military leader, General Azamat, who was accused of doing an illegal arms deal with Russia. Photos and weeks of gathering intel suggested he was guilty and currently at this military base in Naryn.

This was purely a stealth mission first. You and Soap were tasked with infiltrating the small military base while Ghost provided overwatch. There were three security stations. One on the East, what Soap was in position for, the South, the one you were headed towards now, and the West, where you and Soap would meet to take out the last one.

The East and South stations were backup generators and needed to be taken out first before the main one to the South was. That way you kept the element of surprise and didn't need to worry about the backups going online. After that, your troops would push in and secure the base, capture the military leader, and you could all go home.

Soap had given the update on his position, saying he was where he needed to be, about two minutes ago. Two fucking minutes ago. And he was already griping that you weren't to your position yet. His words rang in your ear through your comm earpiece.

"This is Bravo 7-1, I've been in position. Waiting on 7-4 to move her ass."

"Calm down, I'm almost fucking there. Don't be so impatient." You growl back. "Seriously Ghost, how do you even deal with him?"

"Haad yer wheesht." Soap growls at you, some Scottish slang you don't understand. No doubt he was telling you to shut the fuck up or something along those lines.

"Either speaking fucking English or don't speak, MacTavish." You bark, voice getting a little too loud for a stealth mission. Even if you weren't too close to the camp yet, there could be patrols you needed to be mindful of.

"How about you fucking learn about other's cultures and then we wouldn't have this problem. And don't call me MacTavish."

"I do know about other's cultures! I just don't care to know about the one that you came from." You throw back before Ghost gets involved.

"Shut it. Now. Not another word. Fuck's sake." You could practically see Ghost shaking his head. "States, how long till you're in position?" Ghost asks, directing attention back to the mission.

"Give me two minutes."

"Bloody fucking Jesus." You hear Soap mummer through the comms.

You take a deep breath to try and focus your energy back on your current tasks. Soap was not going to get in your head and mess this up for you. For anyone else, he would have stayed quiet. In fact, it probably wouldn't have even bothered him.

"Hold up, 7-4." You hear Ghost say to you after about 30 seconds of creeping your way to your position. "You've got a small patrol further up from your position. Just over the hill. Two men, I don't see anyone else. When you're in range, get a good shot of one, and I'll dump the other for you."

"On it. Thanks Ghost." You whisper back, readying your rifle and trying to be as silent as you can while you approach the men.

"You telling me it's gonna be even longer now." Soap complains, making you roll your eyes.

"I'm sorry your side didn't have rough terrain or anyone to fight off, Soap." You tell him sarcastically. "Some of us didn't get the easy baby route to take."

"I'll have you know I took down two fucking patrols all by myself while I made my way over here. And I didn't have Ghost's help to do it either."

"Fuck you." You growl at him.

"What did I bloody fucking say?" Ghost growls, his lieutenant voice coming out. You curse yourself as you let it happen again. Just ignore the Scot and focus on what's ahead.

"In position, Ghost. I see them. Clear sight on both, your call."

Ghost does the quick calculations in his head as he prepares his shot, trying to determine which of the two men he had a better chance of taking out. "The one with the flashlight is mine. Dump is mate. In three, two..."

You both took the shot, Ghost pulling his trigger just a millisecond before you to account for the distance. He landed a clean headshot while your first bullet landed more in the shoulder of your guy. You took a quick second shot, which finished the job with another headshot.

"He's down. Clean shots. Though try for the head first next time." Ghost quips. There was no malice in his words. Just Ghost joking around to ease tension. Soap clearly needed to take lessons from Ghost on how to tell a joke without being a total ass about it.

"Noted. Thanks for the advice, 0-7." You banter back, earning a scowl and an eye roll from Soap.

"Less talking, more getting to where you're supposed to be." Soap cuts in, ending the fun you'd been having with Ghost.

"Don't get your skirt in a knot. I'm in position." You huff, pulling out your binoculars and scouting the area. Despite this base housing a military leader, and having two back up generators, they really didn't have much security. No walls, no floodlights. Just a few patrols outside. They weren't expecting trouble.

"It's a bloody kilt. Not a skirt." Soap seethes, his jaw clenched. At this rate, he wasn't going to be able to finish this mission. Everything about you was just pure annoyance to him.

"Yeah whatever you want to tell yourse-"

"Are you two going to be able to finish this mission or am I going to have to pull you both from it?" Ghost barks over the comms, clearly fed up now.

You feel your face flush hot in embarrassment. Ghost has never threatened to remove you from a mission before. You've always been good and reliable. You can't fail and have it on your record that you were pulled from a mission due to not being able to get along with others. That was a death sentence for your career with the SAS.

"No, sir. Sorry, 0-7." You apologize, not hearing anything from Soap's end. He was probably pouting and internally cursing you for getting him in trouble, even though this was all his fault. "Going to head out for the South station. Bravo 7-4 going dark." You turn your radio from the public channel between you three to a private one used only for emergencies. At least now you wouldn't be able to hear Soap for a little bit.

Soap hears your radio beep once, signaling to him you'd disconnected for a moment while you advance towards your target goal. Once you had, he huffs and takes a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and collect himself.

"I can't fucking stand her, Ghost." He complains to his friend. "Why the hell did Price ever think it was a good idea to put us together on a mission?" He looked out into the field, making out the little shadow of you making your way slowly to the base.

"She's part of the team, Soap. Price has his reasons. Just focus on the mission and make it work." Ghost replies, not offering too much help aside from stating the obvious and putting Soap's mind back in the field. "Better get going. Your path is clear right now."

Soap sighs heavily and stretches out his neck a bit by tilting his ears toward each shoulder. One side pops a little, only relieving a little tension. "Alright. Bravo 7-1 going dark." He clicks his radio to the private channel and begins to make his way to the East backup generator's building.

By the time Soap reaches his building, you are already working your way inside the South building thanks to the small head start you got. You stick to the shadows as much as you can, thoughts wandering to Soap from time to time. Wondering if he's cleared his building already or if he ran into trouble. Then again, if it was really bad, he could have contacted you or Ghost and there would have been alarms going off. And as much as you hated him, you had to admit he was really good at this kind of stuff. Sweeping through a place and clearing it out. Quick and clean. Of course he'd never ever hear you utter any praises directed at him.

Your building wasn't too heavily guarded. You assumed most of their men were either asleep in the barracks, standing guard of where the military leader was staying, or off patrolling areas they deemed more important than the backup generators. The main building to the West would have most of their patrols since it was the more important building. That was the reason you and Soap needed to work on clearing it together.

You managed to clear your building fairly quickly with only one close call. One guard had seen you shoot someone else, but you managed to take them out before they could radio for backup, and no one seemed to have heard him yell. Once cleared, you plugged in the flash drive and uploaded the virus it contained to make the generator go offline.

You bring a hand to your radio and speak into it. "This is Bravo 7-4, generator down, South building secure. I repeat, generator down. Heading to the West building to the rendezvous now." You begin to head out the way you came in as Ghost speaks to you over the comms.

"This is Bravo 0-7. Confirm. You're all clear." Ghost responds.

"You got a sit rep on our precious Bravo 7-1?" You ask, forgetting to switch over from the private channel. You duck behind some ammo boxes and sneak along them, not expecting to get an answer from Soap. You expected him to be busy still and not on the public channel that you thought you were on. Before Ghost can answer, 7-1 graces you with a response.

"States, shut your fucking mouth and switch your radio over to public. How the hell did you get selected when you can't even use a damn radio." He snarls, making you pause. Soap's words always kinda stung a bit, but some more than others.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I not allowed to have a sit rep on you?" You ask, ignoring your slip up of being in the wrong channel.

"No." He answers flatly, making you sigh and roll your eyes. So much for working as a team. "And switch-"

You switched over while he was mid sentence, not wanting to hear his grating voice anymore. You were getting a little worn down at this point. It wasn't like you enjoyed arguing with Soap as much as you did. It was exhausting. Being out in the field where you were already stressed was making it a lot worse.

"He's almost done." Ghost answers you, keeping you updated since Soap clearly wasn't going to. "Just head to the rendezvous, States."

You grumble softly but do as you are told. You mutter a "copy" into your radio before slowly and carefully making your way to the rendezvous. You hear a soft beep shortly after, signaling Soap had reconnected to the public channel. You try to avoid using your radio after that, even skipping check-ins since it seemed that Soap was going to make any use of your radio an unpleasant experience. Though eventually you do need to give an update that you were at the rendezvous, that way Soap wouldn't shoot you.

You move to the side of a building and crouch down. "Bravo 7-4 approaching rendezvous." You sigh to yourself before adding, "Bravo 7-1, please let me know when you are on your way."

"I'm already here. Look to your bloody right 7-4." You look almost directly to your right, which is met with an annoyed sigh. "Not that far. Back to your.. straight.. just- Fucks sake, by the crates!"

"You're not giving me good directions!" You silently yell back, still looking for him.

"By the crates! The only crates in the area! I'm practically in the open."

You see him then. His stupidly handsome face turned into a scowl and his piercing blue eyes glaring at you. He was not in the open, only his head poking up from the crates. You sent the same look right back to him and make your way over, looking around and making sure the way was clear so you wouldn't compromise your position. He was kind enough to at least raise his gun and cover you as you made your way over. Once behind the crates, back pressed to them, he relaxes his position and ducks behind them with you.

"States, look at me," Soap says, his voice deep and gravely. The only tone he ever seemed to use with you. "I want this done clean and easy. No fuck ups. You're going to follow my lead and stay out of my way. And I don't want to hear a single word from you unless it's mission related. You got that?" He lectures you.

You are so, so tempted to roll your eyes at him. He was talking to you like you were a marine fresh off selection. Not a five year veteran who was selected for an elite special forces team. He didn't even outrank you by that much. Not enough to make a real difference. The only thing he had up on you was experience and maybe two years in age.

You're silent for a long moment, glaring at him until he repeats himself a little.

"Do you understand?" He annunciates each word, and you swallow down the choice of words you had for him. This wasn't the time or place for that. You were in the middle of a mission that could go belly up and turn dangerous. You didn't need to be fighting the sergeant on this.

"You got it." You say tightly, mustering up all the strength you possessed not to say more than that to him.

Soap seemed surprised you agreed so easily, but he eyes you suspiciously for a moment before nodding. "Good." He nods before reaching for his radio. "Bravo 0-7, this is 7-1. Going in. Rest of the troops be ready in five minutes and wait for the signal."

"Copy, 7-1." Ghost confirms. "Be warned, I see multiple troops in the vicinity of the West security building. Some men have different uniforms. They look to be General Azamat's men. He could be in there."

You furrow your brows at that. You were expecting a lot of troops in that area, but the military leader you were after wasn't supposed to be in there. There was a bunker in the middle of the camp that he was supposed to be in. It wasn't going to be a significant change the mission though. It just meant your job had become a lot harder. More men to clear out without raising alarm.

"This is Bravo 7-4, 0-7 what's the best way in?" You ask, refusing to look at Soap. You saw his head turn to look at you from the corner of your eye.

"If you wanna come home looking like Swiss cheese I'd go with the front door. Around the back might be your best shot, but I can't get a clear view from my area." Ghost informs you.

"Can you reposition and-"

"No." Soap immediately cuts you off, making you glance to him. "We don't have time for a reposition. We need to move before they realize their backup generators have been breached."

"You just don't like it cause it was my idea." You accuse, watching as Soap visibly becomes agitated.

"I don't like it cause it's a bloody stupid idea!" Soap says through clenched teeth. He was getting right in your face. You were about to tell him off until Ghost's voice filled your left ear.

"Soap's right. There's no time. Head to the back and make due with that entry point. We'll go loud if we need to."

Soap wore a smug look as Ghost sided with him. You despised it. "See? Told you it was a stupid idea." He reiterates, still way too close for comfort.

Your anger flared, and you shoved him back with a forearm to his chest. He reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and flinging it away as if it had burned him. The movement was so quick, it surprised you a bit, and all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes.

"Touch me again, and you're going to regret ever signing up for the military," he growled, his finger jabbing the air between you before standing up and storming off without attracting too much attention.

You're left stunned for a moment, though you're not sure how you thought he was going to react to you pushing him. Within a matter of seconds, you gather yourself, reminding yourself that you were still in enemy territory and needed to focus. With a reluctant sigh, you followed after him.

You managed to make your way to the back of the West Building with Soap without too many complications. The most you needed to really do was duck behind some parked trucks as a military jeep rolled by. It exited the compound, likely heading out to meet a patrol for a shift change.

You and Soap didn't say a single word to each other the whole way. For a stealth mission, that was preferable. However, you could feel the tension between you and Soap. Disdain was radiating off him, and you didn't want to get too close to him in fear he was going to blow up at any second.

There's a line up of vehicles that serve as your cover for the time being as you sneak along one side of them. Suddenly, you nearly collide with Soap when he abruptly raises his hand, signaling you to stop. There's a group of four men all standing in a small circle, talking and smoking together. They're isolated from other groups but taking out a group of four could be very difficult to do.

Soap takes a few steps back, waving for you to back up as well. "We can't take that group out by ourselves, we're going to have to go around." He tells you in a hushed voice as you attempt to peak around him to get a good view of the targets blocking your path.

"It's only four. We can both take out two." You suggest, but, just like all your other ideas, Soap is fast to shut that one down too.

"Not a chance. You suck at hitting multiple headshots." He accuses.

That makes your blood begin to boil. You were not the God awful shot he made you out to be. In fact, back on your base in the US, you were considered to be one of the better shooters.

"I don't suck at making headshots." You glare, making him huff at you.

"Oh really? You missed the one earlier. Ghost managed to hit it from hundreds of meters away, and you bloody miss from a few feet. Your aim is absolute dog shite, States. I'm not going to have you mess up this entire mission cause you think you're better than you are."

His voice was harsh, as always, and his glare was biting. You felt your eyes burn as tears formed, but you refused to let Soap see you cry. He'd only roll his eyes and call you a baby. Crying would only give him more reasons to think you didn't belong here, that you weren't as good as the rest of them.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him in that moment, but you couldn't. The words got caught in your throat, and you feared that if you opened your mouth, a sob would escape. All you could do was look away and clench your jaw, masking your hurt feelings as anger instead.

Soap seems to take your silence as you submitting. "Come on. We'll go around that way."

He was motioning to a camp-like area that seemed mostly deserted, though there were probably men sleeping in the multiple tents that were set up. Along with the tents, there was some campfires and some small boxes of what looked to be filled with MREs.

As Soap quickly moved to the new area to bypass the group of men, you glanced back at them. You knew you could land those headshots. If Ghost had been with you, you would have taken them down already. You were tired of Soap thinking you were inferior and wanted to prove him wrong so badly. You knew you could land those headshots...

Raising your rifle slowly, you lined up the shot for the first target and mentally mapped out the sequence. One on the right, then left, then back right, and then back left. A simple zig-zag pattern. Easy enough.

Right as you're about to pull the trigger, you hear Soap's voice crackle through the comms. His voice was deep and full of warning and venom.

"Don't you fucking dare, States."

But you dared. You wanted more than anything to prove him wrong. You slowly exhaled and pulled the trigger.

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marsbutterfly · 6 months ago

Text

The Princess and The Pauper

Summary: Your father has arranged for you to be wed to a prince in a nearby kingdom, but when you tell your beloved, the two of you plan to run away.

a/n: hey everyone <3 I actually started writing this fic back in 2022 and just went back to it in March, I believe? anyway, this is by far the longest fic I have ever written, so please, enjoy <3

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: medieval au, fem!reader, non-binary!hanji zoe, NSFW, childhood friends to lovers, parental death (mother), secret relationship, mentions and description of disease, panic attacks, mentions of forced marriage, massive age gap (between reader and the man she is meant to marry/ reader's parents), blood, parental abuse, physical abuse, kissing, face-sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, not really beta read, we ball.

small glossary: Libet - Lady-In-Waiting | Tegan - reader's cat| Elowen - reader's horse

ao3 | wattpad | cover by: bbybluemochi on twt | wc: 24.1k

The warm spot on the window ledge had never seemed more comfortable. The sun had been shining right above it all day long, the music that came from the kingdom faded into the background and your cat purred by your feet. You knew in your heart that this was the perfect time of day to bring out a blanket and cuddle up against a pillow, a good book in your hands. These days, it was rare for you to have a moment all to yourself like this, and, deep down, you knew one way or another, your parents would interrupt your peace.

It was the third time you were reading this book, or trying to read it. The story of two lovers from different classes, brought apart by their parents and the stress that came with their titles, a story you knew all too well. You couldn’t help but sigh at the irony, of course, the book you chose had a similar story to the one you found yourself living at the current moment.

The rumors of your secret affair with the doctor’s child had been spreading like wildfire all across the kingdom, especially after a few of the night guards had caught you sneaking around late at night while trying to make it to your secret meeting spot. No matter how much you paid them to stay quiet, the word still got out somehow and you had yet to receive punishment for it.

The words on the book float around you in a silent dance as you lose focus, your thoughts traveling thousands of miles away towards the distant memories of the night before, when your beloved held you in their arms and read to you from their personal journal about remedies they had discovered, about the star constellations they had studied a week before, or just simply as they played with your hair while listening to your breathing in the cold night.

Before you can daydream much further than that, a bad feeling takes place in your stomach. Something in the atmosphere felt… wrong, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. You quickly close your book and place it on top of the cushion next to you before gently nudging your cat away to give you the chance to stand up. Even though the pet cries softly, you apologize and offer it a small smile, followed by a quick scratch on the top of the head, that’s when you hear it in the distance.

The loud, carrying voices became closer by the second and you could hear loud footsteps against the marble floors. With a heavy sigh and a roll of your eyes, you begin to make your way toward the entrance to your bedroom, your hands going through your dress to destroy any wrinkles before finding a resting place crossed against your thighs.

The doors swing open and they quickly collide with the wall. You close your eyes tightly for no more than a couple of seconds before regaining your composure, not a word escapes your lips before your father, a plump man with a large beard and gold chains that are hidden by all the facial hair, enters the room. His voice carries around the area, the excitement palpable in his words, “My darling daughter!”

“Father,” you say politely, lowering your knees a few inches while your head hangs from your neck. Once you bring yourself back up, you decide to flash him a gentle and warm smile, knowing damn well that it was nothing but a fake, something you and your family were more than used to, something to stop yourself from actually telling him every single bad word that has crossed your mind in the last twenty seconds, “It has been a while.”

The man waves his hands, silently asking the servants around to leave you be and they quickly do as they are told. Not a minute goes by and you find yourself trapped in his tight embrace, a warm sensation taking over your face as embarrassment settles in, he has always been a man of action rather than words. “How have you been?” He inquires, awkwardly attempting to make small talk.

His hands fidget around for a few seconds, restlessly going from his beard to the diamonds around his fingers. The smell of cheap cologne mixed with whatever he has had for lunch overtakes the room, the crumbs still stuck to his beard and the small part of his hair-covered belly that pokes out from the far too small shirt are nearly enough to break through your facade and bring out the disgust on your face. But somehow, you power through.

“I have been doing alright,” you respond, placing your hands behind your back while fidgeting with your fingers, nearly pulling out your own nails in an attempt to ground yourself and keep yourself sane. He has never once asked you how you were doing without having another intention in mind, but you decide to play along regardless, “How was your recent trip to the Pephia Kingdom? I hear their knights have recently returned from a quest with a bigger amount of gold than they have ever seen, is that true?”

The man laughs, his breath hits your face and, as an instinct, you look away. Your eyes are closed shut for a second until you force yourself to stare at him again, his face red from the laughter. “Oh, so you have heard about it, yes? Good, that will make things easier.”

You can’t help but tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowing in response to his words as you continue to pick at the side of your nails, the area getting progressively more raw and inflamed, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath, his face becoming redder than before as his voice now takes a low turn, a more serious expression on his face, “It has come to my attention that you have been... Fraternizing with... A peasant?”

Your breathing seems to stop for a second, all the air is completely sucked out of your lungs and suddenly it feels like the room has started to spin. You weren’t sure what to do, should you lie and pretend that it was a made-up lie by the guards? But how could you know that the information came from the guards? Should you own up to it and beg for his forgiveness? No, you would never find yourself stooping to such a low level. Time seemed to be moving so fast and yet so slowly, the doubt clouding your judgment. Since you weren’t able to offer an answer, he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while his eyes close.

“y/n, we have talked about this!” He says, his voice has a cold tone to it and it sends a terror-filled shiver down your spine, “You were told to stay away from the doctor’s child. They are nothing but trouble and the entire kingdom knows they are… you know… a bit insane. They are considered the lowest of the low.”

Your face snaps back to look at him, how dare he speak of the one you loved in such a despicable manner? You can feel your cheeks burning, a mixture of anger and embarrassment, while your jaw clutches into place. It’s painful but you don’t even seem to notice it for the time being. “They have been teaching me to become a healer, so I can be better prepared for when the day comes when I become the queen!”

The man sighs, his eyes now squinting as he tries to remain calm, “I was not born yesterday, y/n. I raised you and I know you better than anyone ever could.” Another lie, this man may be your father but he did not know anything about you. In his head, you were still the little star-eyed girl who would love to watch her parents working for the good of her kingdom, but that stopped being the case long ago.

You continue to pick at the skin of your finger, feeling as a trickle of blood now makes its way down and lands on your dress. Your eyes shift focus for a small second before you are forcefully brought back to the situation at hand when your father grabs your chin and your cheeks with his rough hand, the sharpness of his many rings leaving behind scratches on your skin as he looks directly into your eyes. Your breathing begins to tremble as his grip tightens, you want to push him away, but that would only make things worse.

After a few seconds like this, when he finally decides that you have been brought down to your place, he lets you go. Your knees hit the ground and not even the size of your dress was enough to prevent your skin from bruising, your face is numb and you look at him through the hair that covers your eyes, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Do not lie to me again,” he says, the “loving father figure” persona completely gone now and the real version of him shining through, “have you or have you not been… intimate with this filthy low life?” The disgust in his voice was palpable, his nose scrunching up at the simple thought that his daughter, the perfect princess who was raised with everything good and nice, could have been defiled by someone of a lower class.

“Yes,” you respond, trying hard to keep the tears that desperately want to flow down your face at bay.

The look on his face sends a wave of terror down your body, he clutches his teeth so intensely that it nearly seems like they are about to break, and his face is so red that anyone who walked into the room would assume he was having a heart attack or really bad indigestion. He clears his throat and adjusts his shirt, his hands clutching the fabric, the sound of his shoes against the marble floors filling your ears as he begins to pace around.

“During my visit to the Pephia Kingdom, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that King Pierre’s eldest son was in search of a bride,” he says, his fat fingers brushing against your books, leaving behind greasy marks on your precious and rare volumes, a part of your heart breaks for the once clean pages, but his voice echoes through the walls once more, demanding your attention, “and your name came up.”

“What?” You catch yourself responding, certainly, you misheard what he said and he wasn’t suggesting what you assumed he was? Your own father would not be as cruel as to punish you in such a manner, “Porter? He is… much older than me.”

A smile takes over the man’s features, “That is true, but I was also much older than your mother, and stepmother, and yet, here we are.”

“P-please, you can’t do this. I’ll behave, I’ll do anything!” You try to plead with him. No, this is much deeper than a simple plea, you are begging. Your body is trembling and the tears you tried so hard to keep hidden now shamelessly fall, there is nothing you want less than to be wed to a man twice your age, a man whom you have never met, not when your heart already belongs to someone else.

“Oh, but I can. I am the king and you will do as you are told!” He roars, his fist slams against the wall and it causes you to whimper and cower away in the corner of the room, “this marriage will finally end the war that has been going on for nearly a century. The war between the four kingdoms will come to an end and it will finally put my name as the rightful ruler of all men. You are my daughter, you were born to do your job as a woman.”

You want to scream, you want to beg some more but you know that there is no changing his mind. The thoughts go through your mind so quickly that you can barely keep up, the air in your lungs burns on the way in and on the way out, like there are small particles of glass all around you. “Please.”

“Accept your future, y/n, and I will spare the filthy peasant who dared sully my daughter.” His eyes shot daggers into your heart, the idea of losing them, the one person who you have loved your entire life, is nearly enough to kill you. So for them, maybe this once, you could do something useful. So you nod, your head hanging low as you wrap your arms around yourself, your once light-colored dress now covered in dirt. “Excellent, I will send a messenger over to Pephia and let them know the wedding will happen tomorrow, at dusk. You will be out of here and you will never see that... Freak again.”

The sound of his shoes leaving the room would usually fill you with a sense of hope, but this time, it only meant that you would soon meet your doom. There was no getting away from this, it was your duty as the crown princess to do what was best for your people and those around you, but... The idea of living without them? Without Hanji? It was a pain that could only be compared to the feeling of having your heart ripped out of your chest and stomped on.

You can’t move your body, your face still burns from the mark of your father’s rings, your knees are scraped and covered in dirt and your hair is now a mess from being thrown around like a cheap and replaceable doll. You stay like that, wondering if this was your life now, just another pawn in your father’s sick game for power and control.

The stars start to show up in the sky, the lanterns in the kingdom taking over the once colorful streets and turning them into a dark shade of orange, covered by shadows that dance in pathetic rhythm. Once you are finally able to collect yourself off of the floor, you walk towards the balcony, your legs nearly failing you as you hold onto the walls for support, the tears won’t stop pouring from your eyes.

Your body drapes over your favorite spot on the window, the pillows are now freezing cold as the night air hits the fabric, your fingers gripping tightly onto it as you bury your face in the surface, a scream leaving your lungs. The desperation you feel in this moment can only be absolved by one thing, by the one person who could save you.

You reach under the window for the loose tile on the ground, hoping to find the box you have kept hidden for so long. You were careless once before, the people of the kingdom had found out about your most precious secret, but not anymore. From inside the compartment, you pull a black cloth, the smell of your beloved taking over your nostrils and filling you with a warm sense of security. With trembling hands you wrap it around the window ledge, your eyes finally noticing the armed guards that keep a close watch on your room, your father must know you have a plan.

The different colors of fabrics you hide in that box represent different things: yellow if you missed them, red if you wanted to meet at your usual spot, blue if you would not be able to see them that night, and so on, but the black one is the one color you never had to use before, it meant you were in danger. You prayed so hard that this moment would never come, that the worry on their face when Hanji handed it to you and you laughed quietly, saying it wasn’t necessary, wasn’t warranted but, once again, you were wrong.

The night was cold, a complete contrast with how sunny and warm your day had been up until that unfortunate visit. While a few tears still stream down your face, you decide to get yourself ready while waiting for Hanji to come, you know they won’t take long so you want to be ready, the sooner you can get out of this hellhole, the better.

Thinking of what you were actually going to take with you was a harder task than you’d ever imagined. There was nothing inside these empty palace walls that you would want to take with you, nothing that couldn’t be replaced. Only two things came to mind: the love letters Hanji had written to you throughout your relationship and the sapphire ring that belonged to your mother. The rest? Could easily be bought or traded or forgotten.

In a small bag gifted to you by a young peasant girl from a nearby village, you decide to pack the two essential items and a few more things, such as a small sewing kit, a small book where you have written down your knowledge about every herb and fruit you have ever come in contact with, a hairbrush and, of course, a bit of food that was bound to last the two of you a few days.

Your once beautiful dress is now covered in dirt and some blood, the sight is so disgusting that you can barely look at yourself. When you walk past the mirror and realize the pathetic state you find yourself in, a fit of rage takes over your body and you can’t help but follow your first instinct to throw a book at the surface, shards of glass exploding all over your room as you cover your face.

Your nails dig through the fabric of the outfit you are wearing, ripping it to shreds as you attempt to remove it as fast as possible. The grunts that come from deep within your chest represent the frustration you are feeling at that moment, nothing else could compare. The idea that you are being sold to a random kingdom… for loving someone? Fuck that.

You catch yourself staring into nothing, a thousand thoughts going through your mind and you can’t help but bite off your fingernails, waiting for your beloved to appear, for them to make their grand entrance through the passage you found hidden in your room years before, as a child. The idea that they wouldn’t come crosses your brain and you shake your head vigorously, pushing the thought so far deep that it won’t see the light of day again.

Not long after, you hear a faint knock coming from the secret door underneath your carpet. You can’t help but fly towards it, ripping the fabric off of the ground and throwing it across the room, immediately unlocking the heavy area. The moment Hanji comes into your field of vision, you notice the scratches on their face, the dirt on the palms of their hands, and the growing concern behind those whiskey-colored eyes, even the slight way in which their nose scrunches up when they try to catch their breath doesn’t go by unnoticed.

You have barely any time to react before their arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Your arms, in response, grow a mind of their own and immediately wrap around their neck, your face buried in the area as you try your best to muffle your desolate cries. With tears of their own, Hanji guides you backward towards the bed, where the two of you lay for a while, crying in each other’s embrace.

The room is filled with outside lights and the deafening sound of your sobs. Hanji’s grip on you never loosens as you dig your nails through their clothes, your heart has never called their name quite like this before, it’s almost as if you need them to survive, more than food, more than air. All you need is Hanji. After what feels like an eternity, they break the silence.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Their voice exhales a fake sense of calm that is completely unmasked by the trembling of their arms. They are desperately trying to keep the tears in their eyes at bay, trying to find a way to control their breathing while waiting for a response. You can only nod. “It’s all over the kingdom. I heard from my father that they are sending you away tomorrow?”

“I didn’t... I - I can’t…” You try to speak but the words simply won’t come out, they die in your throat before even being able to escape and all you can do is quietly gasp for air, clinging onto Hanji as tightly as you possibly can. Their fingers go through your hair, attempting to calm you down but it’s futile, especially when they feel themselves break down as well. Their lips press against the top of your head intensely as they pour all of their love for you into this one small action. “I can’t… live without you.”

“I know..” They respond after a few seconds, seemingly lost in thought, “Do you remember when we first met?”

You pause for a second, the clear memory of the day coming into your mind. It was a rainy day, the dark clouds in the sky making it seem a lot more hurtful than it already was. You couldn’t have been more than eight years old at the time, barely old enough to attend your first meeting between your father and his counselors as they talked about the plans and tactics for the war at hand, nothing they were saying made much sense to you but you sat there and listened regardless, as it was your duty as the royal princess.

In the middle of a very serious part of the conversation, one of your mother’s lady-in-waiting bursts through the door. You can still see the pure look of terror in her eyes, not sure if she was afraid of your father’s reaction to this rude interruption or because of the reasoning behind it. Her breathing is ragged and she tries to catch her breath, her voice trembles, “Your Majesty… the queen... She collapsed!”

The room falls silent and all eyes now rest on your father, analyzing his facial expressions as he stands up from his seat. “What happened?” He asks, calmly. Your poor heart is racing in your chest as you want to desperately run out of this room, to your mother’s side, but you know that if you do, there will be consequences.

“We were on a walk and she simply collapsed onto the ground, I tried my best to catch her but…” She attempts to continue but your father raises a hand, her mouth immediately closing in response.

“Was the doctor called?” He asks. She nods.

“Yes, your Majesty.” The lady-in-waiting responds quickly. You notice that her hands are trembling and her breathing is still a bit out of control. When she notices your curious eyes, she straightens her back and places her hands in front of her body, trying her best to look as collected as possible.

“Good,” the king says loudly. Finally, he looks at you, “Y/n, why don’t you go and check on your mother while I finish this meeting? You can report back to me with everything once you have found out what is going on. I will be counting on it, ok?”

A smile forms on your lips, the idea of pleasing your father was always the first one in your mind, with every movement being perfectly planned and calculated. You salute and respond with enthusiasm, “Yes, sir. I will do my very best!”

He offers you a smile as he ruffles your hair, tilting his head towards the door so you can calmly but quickly follow the person who would lead you to your mother.

The walk towards your parents’ bedroom is long. You can’t even hear the echoing of your footsteps with the heavy rain that falls outside. Your little brain works overtime, trying to figure out what is going on with your mother and what could possibly have resulted in her injuring herself like this. “So.. what’s the doctor’s name?”

The woman next to you jumps slightly, a clear sign that your words startled her, though her footsteps never cease to move forward. She thinks for a second, “I’m not sure what his first name is, but the people of the village call him Dr. Zoe. He is from a small city called Gillamoor, which is hidden in the mountains of the Vatebia Kingdom. One day he simply showed up, saying he was looking for refuge from the war for him and his child, I believe they are about your age. People say that his wife passed away on the way here. So far, he has treated pretty much all of the Kingdom for Sheep Fever and casualties have gone down drastically.” She smiles at you softly, “I think that covers all of your questions?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up as the embarrassment takes over, you can’t help but avert her eyes as you nod. Until one final question pops into your mind, that is, “You said he has a child my age?”

She smiles widely again and nods, “Yes, their name is Hanji. They may be a year or so older than you but I still think the two of you would get along greatly. Both of them are on their way to take a look at your mother, so you know she’ll receive the best care all of us can offer.”

Once you find yourself standing outside the doors to your mother’s chambers, reality strikes once more. You had been so caught up in the idea of having a friend, in the idea of having someone to show your books to and maybe even play with, that you completely forgot the dire situation you were now facing.

Your small, trembling hands knock on the door but have little to no effect. Your breathing is a bit unstable as the fear of what you might encounter on the other side of the wooden door might be, but quickly you pull yourself together, showing this amount of emotion was unfitting of a future queen. You knock again, with more confidence this time, and, in response, you can hear a familiar and welcoming voice inviting you in.

The door finally opens and your eyes go through the room, attempting to find your mother. It doesn’t take long for her weak figure to come into your field of vision: she’s laying on the bed, dark bags under her eyes and a weird contraption touching her chest. You want to run towards her, to hug your mother and cry into your arms, but instead, you simply walk towards her, holding your hands in front of your body tightly.

You barely notice the presence of other people in the room, the cold feeling in the pit of your stomach never ceases, no matter how much you try to force it to fade away. Finally, you find yourself standing by your mother’s side, she looks nothing like the strong woman you are so used to seeing.

The sound of a man clearing his throat fills the air and you are forced to acknowledge the presence of other people in the room besides your family. The doctor offers you a comforting smile, he isn’t someone you’ve met before. His brown eyes match the color of his nicely parted hair, a pair of glasses sitting on his nose as he places the contraption that was once pressed against your mother’s chest around his neck.

“Your Highness,” he bows towards you slightly and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I’m Dr. Zoe, I’ll be in charge of your mother’s care from here on out.” All you can do is nod, your fingers lacing with the ones of the woman who lays on the bed. You notice a small figure hiding behind the doctor’s coat, their fingers slowly pulling the man’s sleeve down, the gesture earns a heartfelt giggle from the man, “This is my child and prodigy. Why don’t you introduce yourself, sweetheart?”

Your heart stops beating for a second as soon as your eyes meet the other child’s. Their eyes are a deeper shade of brown than their father’s and their hair is in a messy ponytail, a complete opposite of the adult standing by them. They have a pair of glasses sitting on top of their nose and, when they speak, you notice they have a tooth missing, “I’m Hanji, Your Highness.” They repeat the man’s gesture and bow before you slightly, dropping a few papers in the process. When they notice the mess, they bend down to pick it up and your first instinct is to help them collect the pages.

You proceed to reach for the last one, not noticing that the other child is about to do the same thing, and, for a split second, your hands touch. It’s a brand new feeling you have never experienced before, almost as if there are flying little creatures around your stomach. You are too young to understand what is going on but that was the moment your first, and only, crush took hold of your brain.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, your eyes meeting as you hand them the loose page on the ground. You notice the reddish blush that spreads across their cheek and it sends your little heart ablaze, almost enough to stop your breathing. “H- here you go,” you say in a shy voice.

They nod and look away, quickly standing up and retaking their spot next to their father. You shake your head and decide to do the same, taking your mother’s hands in yours while she smiles lovingly at you, a part of you can tell she knows exactly how you feel about the doctor’s child and you can’t help but ignore her gaze in embarrassment, which in response earns a weak giggle.

“So… Do you have any idea of what might be wrong?” The lady-in-waiting that stands next to you asks and you realize you were so caught up in the moment that you nearly forgot the reason why you were here in the first place. The man on the other side of the bed adjusts his glasses, looking over the results of the tests he performed on the queen.

“Unfortunately, it does seem Her Majesty has come down with Sheep Fever, this case in particular seems quite severe and in its later stages. It must have been dormant for quite some time now,” the doctor places down his papers, his eyes now looking directly at you when he flashes you a gentle smile, “Are you familiar with the disease, Your Royal Highness?”

You look down at your feet, embarrassed of the response you are about to give. “No, sir,” is all you can say. You’ve heard about it, sure, from the maids, the chefs, every single person who comes by the throne room every day to speak with your father, but you had never actually seen a case up close. The man smiles at you once more before turning his attention towards his own child.

“Hanji, why don’t you enlighten the princess on the condition?” His child looks at him through their glasses, their dark brown eyes meeting you within a second of the doctor finishing the first half of his sentence, “Maybe it will give her some peace of mind and sound a bit less scary if it comes from someone her own age.”

The nine-year-old takes a few steps closer to you, the papers they hold and the side of their hands smudged by black ink, a bit also smudged on their nose and you can’t help but feel your small heart skip a beat. They stop just at arm's length, clearing their throat and straightening their back, clearly attempting to look and sound older and more mature than they actually are.

“Sheep Fever has been associated with the consumption of poorly prepared meat or the consumption of milk that came from an infected sheep. Considering that the chefs of the castle always prepare the food to perfection and the tasters haven’t gotten sick, I would assume the cause comes from the latter.”

You pay close attention to their words, entranced by the way they sound so… grown-up and so smart, no wonder they were already taking after their father’s profession, it seems like they have a natural gift. You can’t help but feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor in an attempt to hide the embarrassment that appears in the way you scrunch your nose.

“Symptoms often include muscle weakness and leg swelling, both of which we found to be present in your mother, I mean, Her Majesty, at the time,” they correct themselves before taking a quick look at their father, hoping for approval. The man nods softly and the child in front of you continues their explanation, “Shortness of breath can also occur, and that was the reason why she collapsed during her walk today.”

“Is there… anything else?” You ask, making a mental note of all the information they are presenting you with so you can later report back to your father regarding your mother’s condition. You notice for a second as their eyes sparkle, almost as if… nobody had ever asked them that before.

“Actually, yes!” They respond with a bit too much excitement in their voice. Immediately, they correct themselves, “I mean, yes. Toe numbness and excessive yawning can also occur in more severe cases, such as the Queen’s. Father and I believe the swelling has traveled from her legs to other areas of her body since her fingers have also grown in size.”

For a second, they stop talking. You aren’t sure if they have simply finished their explanation or if they’ve noticed the tears that stream down your face. The once giddy expression on their face dissipates as they carefully place the stack of papers in their hands onto the ground, taking a few steps closer to you. You can’t look up at them anymore, so your eyes avert toward the stack of pages on the ground. You try your best to think about what to say in this scenario but nothing comes to mind, you are just a scared little girl after all.

When you look back up again, you are hit by the sudden pressure of a pair of small arms wrapping around you. You freeze in place, not knowing how exactly to react. Rushed footsteps try to reach you, someone telling the other child to pull away but all you can hear is their voice, a soothing tone ever so different from the overly excited one they presented earlier, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but if anyone can help Her Majesty, it’s daddy. He learned from my grandparents, who were healers way before my parents were even born.”

You smile softly through the tears, “is that why you are learning?” You ask through the sniffles and they nod, the eager expression taking hold of their face one more time. They look so adorable that you can’t help but giggle once more.

“I want to be a great healer one day,” they respond, the blush that spread across their cheek now deepening as they avert your gaze, their fingers begin to fidget with a random strand of hair that falls on their face, “so if you are sick, I can take care of you… and I promise to save you, no matter what.”

You are finally brought back to reality after a trip down memory lane, your face snuggling close to Hanji’s chest as you are reminded of the situation you currently find yourself in. You nod in response to their question, “Yes… I remember the day we met…”

“I made you a promise,” they say, their voice barely louder than a whisper as their fingers ghost above the skin of your shoulder, “that I would save you, no matter what, didn’t I?” You nod in response once more, trying to understand where exactly they are going with this rant, not that you ever minded hearing them talk, it was definitely one of your favorite things in this world, the sound of their voice contained soothing properties that could only be compared to the lightest of teas. “Let’s run away.”

Your heart stops for a second and your breath gets caught in your throat. The idea crossed your mind and you had already packed a bag while you were at the peak of your rage, but to hear Hanji actually suggesting it… That was a completely different scenario. “A-are you sure? What about your father’s clinic?”

They shake their head, “ever since he passed, the only thing in this place that has felt like home has been the barn outside the mountains where we would meet. The moments I’ve held you in my arms like this have been more comforting to me than the memories I’ve had at that clinic. Besides, my father wanted to expand his knowledge further, to treat more people in other areas but… I asked him to stay here because… Well, because I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

You can’t help but hide your face in the crook of their neck, snuggling your body as close to theirs as you possibly can. Hanji can’t help but allow a small giggle to escape their lips, feeling as your body trembles slightly beneath their touch, their grip on you tightening slightly and it is nearly enough to stop the air from flowing to your lungs. You don’t mind it.

“That’s so nice to hear,” you respond in a whispered voice, “my heart has been yours since our hands touched for a split second years ago. Even before I knew what romantic love was.” You prop your body up on the pillow, your hand resting underneath your chin as you stare into Hanji’s eyes, those adoring glasses shoot at you causing butterflies to flutter around in your stomach, “my heart beats for you and no one else.”

They smile smugly, attempting to hide the red tint that covers their entire face, they bring their face closer to yours, lips brushing against one another ever so gently, just barely enough for them to tickle each other. Hanji’s voice is quiet but their words hit you with the same effect as if they have just screamed at the top of their lungs, “Say you’ll run away with me.”

Your eyes flutter closed and you nod, it’s subtle and almost undetectable but Hanji is more than used to every tiny movement you make. Their lips finally press against yours, gentle at first, caring for you like you are a wounded animal, but it suddenly escalates into something much deeper. Their tongue traces the outline of your lower lip, silently begging for entrance and you quickly oblige, parting your mouth ever so slightly and the way they hum in response lets you know that you are doing something right.

Your tongue dances with theirs in a passionate tango, exploring the inside of each other’s mouth like it is the first time all over again. It’s a feeling you will never get tired of, the feeling of being this close to them, to the person who has been by your side in the hardest times, the person whose name is echoed with every beat of your heart.

Sadly, you are forced to pull away, cursing yourself for needing to breathe, a small string of saliva connecting your bodies and you can’t contain the smile that makes its way to your lips. Your fingers gently brush against their cheek, your foreheads touching for a while as you continue to enjoy this moment together.

“Yes…” You finally respond, your eyes still closed as you teasingly brush your lips against theirs again before pulling away, “I… I’ll run away with you.”

“I don’t know where we are going, but give me an hour to gather some things,” they whisper, slowly pulling away from you. You reach out, fingers brushing against the skin of their arm as they pull away, your lower lip trembling as a sense of panic takes over you, the fear that something will happen to them in the meantime taking over, “I promise I will be back for you, so be ready, ok?”

You nod, watching as Hanji blows you a kiss before disappearing through the small door underneath the carpet once more. The dark shadows of the night dance around your room, taunting you of the destiny you are bound to face if your father were to catch you.

Deciding that you can’t simply stand around and do nothing, you get up, reaching for the water jug that rests on the corner of the bedroom. With a bit of soap, you wash away the dried blood and dirt from your hands, watching as the water turns into a deep shade of maroon, the metallic smell entering your nostrils and you can’t help but turn your head away.

You change out of the destroyed dress, throwing it in another corner of the room. Your heart aches slightly, it was a dress your mother had chosen for you before she passed, something that reminded you of her and your father had, once again, taken that small sense of comfort away from you.

Your memories go towards the times when things weren’t so bad when your parents were still in love and happy with the blessing of finally having an heir after many, many years of trying. The times when you could still see light in his eyes when he looked at you and not the shell of a man who now was only interested in power and full control.

As the night progresses and the moon descends, a bottomless pit forms in your stomach, waiting for Hanji to return. Your small bag had been packed since earlier that day and you were wearing the least fancy outfit you owned, which was still extremely fashionable regardless, you knew there was a possibility that it would cause you to stand out, but that is a chance you would have to take.

Finally, when you feel as if your heart can no longer wait, you hear the sound of Hanji’s knock coming from the ground, a few tears of relief brew in your eyes as you move the carpet away, giving them the space needed to enter your room. They carry two small bags in their hands, one bigger than the other but still relatively petite.

They immediately drop them onto the floor, freeing their arms so they could wrap around you. It takes very few seconds for your body to respond to their actions, your legs grow a mind of their own as you rush to their embrace, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nuzzle your face against Hanji’s chest, “what took you so long?” You ask, your voice trembling in a mixture of fear and relief.

“I’m sorry,” they responded quietly, their voice shaking as well, “I was gathering things from the clinic, such as a few samples of the herbs my father kept and the book my family kept on every condition we have ever treated. It took me a while to get out of the village, you know how much those women love to gossip,” they giggle quietly and you hum. The room falls silent for a moment as you enjoy the feeling of being in their arms, “I got you some of my older clothes, they might be a bit big on you but… I think it’s better than... Whatever you are trying to go for right now”

You gasp dramatically, playfully pushing their shoulders away and they chuckle, a sound that sends goosebumps down your spine and you can’t help but look at them with lovestruck eyes. The love in your heart emanates throughout your body and all you want to do is jump on their arms and stay intertwined with them forever.

“I tried my best, okay?” You respond, trying your hardest to make sure your voice doesn’t carry through the room. This is the first time all day that you have felt a genuine smile creeping onto your lips, even if you are rolling your eyes and pouting at Hanji the entire time, “I don’t have any less extravagant clothes.”

“I can tell,” Hanji muffles a laugh and you gasp again, your hands brushing against their chest as you land small and gentle hits on their skin. In response, Hanji wraps their arms around your waist, tightly pulling you into another hug while lifting you off the floor, and spinning you around. You try your best to contain your squeals of excitement, biting down on your lower lip as you do so. After a while, they finally place you back on the ground, brushing a strand of hair off of your face, “Go change, I’ll make sure no one is coming.”

You nod, rushing towards the partition wall that stands by the closet. Every small movement you make seems to be louder than the town crier’s voice at early dawn, but maybe it’s just the nervousness taking hold of your emotions. You try your best to remain calm, the plain thought that Hanji is in the room with you is enough to soothe your nerves more than any possible tea could.

They were right, their clothes are indeed a bit bigger and the fabric is not nearly as soft as what you are used to. There are a few holes here and there and the mysterious stains that cover most of the shirt remind you of the experiments Hanji used to do when you both were children, but there is a bright side: the scent of her skin has now been engraved on the clothes and, with every step you take, it feels like their arms are constantly wrapped around you.

Once you walk out from behind the fake, wooden wall, Hanji’s curious eyes fall on you and, even through the dim light from the candle, you can see a dark shade of red spreading across their cheeks when they fully take in the sight of you wearing their clothes. It sets their heart ablaze and they can barely focus on the challenges the two of you are about to face.

“You look beautiful,” they say, their voice is barely louder than a whisper and the timid way in which they look in a different direction doesn’t fail to get a heartfelt chuckle out of you, “are you ready?”

You take their hand, a deep sigh escaping your throat as you two prepare to get down through the secret door on the floor. Until someone knows on your door, that is.

At that moment, your heart stops beating. The fear that courses through your veins is too severe to express and you feel as though you are frozen in place, unable to move, breathe, or even blink. The palms of your hands begin to sweat and you feel yourself beginning to shake. Tears form in your eyes as you squeeze Hanji’s hand, the panic clearly written all over your facial expression.

They place their index finger in front of their lips, silently asking you to remain quiet. You struggle to fight back the sobs that form in the back of your throat, using your free hand to cover your mouth. The two of you stay perfectly still for a while, hoping that whoever is standing on the other side of the door will soon give up and walk away.

Another knock and you can feel your body beginning to sink to the ground with fear. It isn’t until the third knock that the person on the other side identifies themselves, “Your Highness, it’s me.” You would recognize that voice anywhere, your mother’s favorite lady-in-waiting, the one who was by your mother’s side in her last moments and who was also by your side when you and Hanji first met. There had never been any secrets between the two of you, but for some reason, you found yourself terrified of what she would do if she were to find out your plans.

You and Hanji begin to make your way towards the main door, fingers permanently laced together as you place your ear against the door, responding in a hushed though shaky voice, “Yes?”

“May I come in?” She asks, the tone of her voice is full of worry and care for you and it reminds you of your own mother. You look at your beloved for any signs of disapproval but all you see in their eyes is a lot of love and support. Carefully, you open the door and, just by the way she looks at you and holds a package in her hands, you can tell that she isn’t here to yell at you.

“Libet, you should not be here,” you whisper in the most cautious voice you can muster, still tightly holding onto Hanji’s hands as the woman closes the door behind her. She wears a dark cloak above her nightgown, her hair is down in a tangled mess and the redness in her eyes tells you that she has been crying, the sight is the complete opposite of the strong woman you are so used to. “What happens if you get caught?”

She shakes her head furiously, arms wrapping around your body in an intense hug. You can feel your own body trembling as you return the affection, both of your bodies sinking to the floor after you finally let go of Hanji’s hand. They take a step back, allowing you to have some space while still remaining on guard, just in case something goes wrong during this exchange.

Silent tears stream down your face, the tightness in your chest increasing as you finally stop to think about the good things you are leaving behind. The woman can tell that you are lost in thought, so she brushes your cheek with her thumb, stopping a tear in its tracks.

“I… I needed to say goodbye,” she whispers, hands carefully brushing your face, much like your mother used to do when you would have a bruise or a cut. She reminds you so much of her. “I brought you a few supplies, it isn’t much but it will last the two of you a few days. There are also a few extra seeds, once you find a suitable place, plant those and remember that they were your mother’s favorites. Also a bit of money.”

“But… How did you know?” Hanji asks quietly, kneeling beside you. The woman smiles, her free hand now gently touching your beloved’s arm and you notice a dark blush spreading across their cheeks as they attempt their best not to look away.

“I know Her Highness like the palm of my hand,” she whispers softly, touching her forehead with your own, “and, if she’s anything like her mother, which believe me, she is, she wouldn’t just sit still, and allow her dad to ship her off to somewhere distant, especially if it meant she would never see you again. Her heart calls your name, after all, Hanji.”

“But…” the two of you speak in unison, sharing a look of confusion as the woman chuckles, clearly amused by the expression on your faces.

“You two have never been very good at hiding,” she responds, and your eyes immediately fall onto the ground, too embarrassed to look at either the woman or Hanji. The only reason you lift your gaze is because you can hear Hanji’s inquisitive tone coming from beside you.

“That day at the tower… When I felt like someone was watching us… Our first kiss..” They say, the words fighting to come out as their brain works overtime to form the necessary sentences, “That was you?�� Their question is responded to only by a simple nod and a smile. Do you want to disappear, knowing that someone saw the two of you in such a vulnerable state? It makes your face burn and your vision nearly goes black.

The sound of footsteps and shadows dancing outside of your room is a reminder that you don’t have time to sit around and talk. If you were to escape before sunrise, this is your one and only moment to do it. So you take the package from her hands and stuff it in with the rest of the things you’ve packed. It isn’t very big so it doesn’t take up a large amount of space.

As you stand up, you wrap your arms around her once more, her green eyes meeting yours as she plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. Her voice is quiet.

“For guidance.”

Another kiss, this time on your fingertips.

“For control.”

And lastly, she plants a kiss on the tip of her own fingers before brushing it against the left side of your chest, her eyes filled with tears and you can barely see her pupils through the tears, her voice is trembling and her hand isn’t as steady as it usually was.

“For eternal love.”

You want to say something, maybe stay with her for a few more moments, but when Hanji opens the secret exit to your room, you realize you are out of time. So with one more look, you take your beloved’s hand, making sure to take in the view of the room you grew up in one last time.

Before you can leave, you decide to ask for one more favor, “would you care for Tegan for me? I want to entrust his safety to someone I trust and I would prefer it if my father would stay away from my cat.”

Libet nods, “Don’t worry, I will care for him like he is my own. I’m sure he will get along great with my own animal. He’s always had a precious heart, much like your own.”

You flash her another look and she can tell you are hesitating, but when a shadow lingers around your door for too long, she gives you that necessary push you need to finally get things up and running. She smiles at you while Hanji guides you down the steps for the very first time.

“Good-bye, Your Highness,” the woman waves at you, finally allowing your hand to be free to take Hanji’s. Your eyes meet hers and, for a second, you feel like you are staring at your mother. Your heart beats a bit faster than before and you offer her a smile.

“Call me y/n,” you respond, a single tear falling down your face. Libet chuckles, her hand reaching for the doorknob so she can shut it as soon as you and Hanji are completely out of sight.

“Goodbye, y/n,” she says, her voice is so docile it could almost be compared to freshly made honey, “I hope to meet you again someday. But if I don’t, I will make sure to see you in my next lifetime.” Her words strike you like lightning, your whole body feels like it's on fire, the fear of leaving her alone in this castle is so strong that you are only brought back to the reality of your situation when she pushes you at the same time as Hanji tugs at your hand.

Your eyes only leave hers when you are out of view and you can hear the door shutting behind you. Even though Hanji instructed you not to speak, you want to say something, to ask them if this moment is really real or if it’s just a stupid dream your mind created to cope with the situation. But you don’t say anything, you just follow them, their certain footsteps letting you know that they’ve crossed this cramped space more times than you could count.

The walls of the tunnel are covered in spiderwebs, a smell that you could only assume came from a dead animal hidden somewhere behind one of the bricks and the only light comes from the small candle that rests in Hanji’s hand. A thousand thoughts go through your head but, when you notice that they are shaking slightly, you squeeze their hand three times, a silent way of saying “I love you.”

That small action causes Hanji to stop dead in their tracks, their shaky breath finally returning to normal as they turn around to look at you and you can’t help but be mesmerized. Even in this dim lighting with dirt covering their cheeks, they are still the most beautiful human being you have ever laid your eyes on and just the thought of starting a new life with them nearly makes all the nervousness dissipate from your body.

A careful arm wraps around your waist, their forehead touching yours as they silently mouth back the words “I love you too.” No sound is needed for you to realize that they meant every bit of it. With your eyes closed, you lean forward ever so slightly, your lips brushing against theirs softly.

Hanji’s breath smells like a mixture of berries and bananas, a small snack they would often munch on before an important event or when they were nervous. They’ve told you in the past these particular fruits contained soothing properties and were known for the mixture of sweetness and tanginess, the perfect effect to ground someone back to reality. Your heart breaks slightly when you realize just how intense the taste of their lips is.

Their body melts against your touch and, even though you are in a hurry, they can’t help but give in to the sensation. They part their lips ever so slightly, a clear path for your tongue to gain entry and you can’t contain the smile that forms on the right corner of your mouth.

Teasingly, you brush the tip of your tongue against theirs and you hear Hanji whimpering quietly in response. The sound alone is enough to send goosebumps running down your spine, all you want to do is strip them and just spend some time together, right there in the dirty, old tunnel. You bring your hand up to cup their face, not only trying to calm their nerves but a way of grounding yourself back again in the seriousness of the situation.

When Hanji tilts their head to the right, you know you’ll be done for unless you pull away. It takes every ounce of your strength, every last bit of it to part ways, a small string of saliva still connecting your bodies while you look at them with love-filled eyes. Hanji was your very first kiss and, even though years have already passed, you still hope they will be your very last.

A small smile appears on the corner of their mouth as they press their lips against yours in a much quicker kiss, they look at you with thankful eyes, almost as if silently saying how badly they need that small token of your affection. But both of you are aware that talking in this situation is not an option, so you are left to only interpret what they have to say.

Once the two of you regain your composure, you begin walking towards the exit once more. Your steps now carry more confidence than before, certain that this is for the best, the doubts that once clouded your mind have now cleared and, even if you are not sure what the future holds, you know that you’ll be fine as long as you and Hanji are together.

Finally, the moonlight comes into view and the cold wind of the night hits you in the face, it is the most refreshing feeling you have ever felt before. You are still scared: of the guards finding you, of what might happen to Libet, of your father’s reaction. But one look at Hanji’s face and you can tell this is the right choice for you, after all, this is the most freedom you’ve had since your mother’s death.

You had never seen this pathway to the stables and you pay close attention to how dangerous it is. Something was covering the ground that you couldn’t figure out if it was mold, moss, or a disgusting mixture of both, but all you could actually tell was how slippery it was. You realized this because, if it weren’t for Hanji’s protective hands on your lower back, you would have found yourself sitting on the ground after slipping. At least three separate times.

This hidden part of the city was different than anything you had ever experienced. It has a different smell than the ones from the main areas, even the way the lights from the lanterns cover the walls seem somehow different. You can see people dancing around in bars, the sound of laughter and music fills the streets, and, even though it is late at night, children are playing around with street animals. It’s a kind of life you had never been introduced to but always dreamt about.

You can see your breath every time air comes in contact with your lungs, your body shivering in a mixture of fear, excitement, and cold. Hanji’s hand in yours is so warm and it causes your blood to flow at a rapid speed, somehow keeping you from freezing on the spot.

“Okay, we are almost there,” they say, their voice so quiet and full of love, while their gaze transmits a concerned expression, “are you doing okay?” You’re enamored by the way they look under the pale moonlight, the way you can clearly see the droplets of sweat that form on their forehead, even though it is extremely cold. Their fingers brush against the top of your hand, comforting your racing heart. You nod.

“Y-yeah,” you respond and Hanji smiles. God, the way one of their teeth is slightly crooked is such a small detail and you would only be able to notice it if you were paying close attention, but for you, it was one of their most endearing physical qualities. Faintly, you can hear the horses as the stables come into your vision.

You and Hanji pick up the pace of your steps, freedom is within your reach, and all you need to do is make sure to grab a horse. From afar, you can see Elowen, the horse you’ve had for a few years now and the fastest one you’ve had throughout your entire life, you couldn’t see yourself riding another horse out of this situation that isn’t her.

Before you have time to reach the building, Hanji’s strong grip pulls you into a dark alleyway, their index finger quickly taking place in front of their lips as they silently begs you to remain quiet, and, in response, you cover your mouth with your hand.

They lean their head forward, peaking out of the area in an attempt to see what is going on. You copy their action, noticing a couple of castle guards walking by. The two men, whom you’re more than familiar with, are part of your father’s personal guard and it sends a chill up your spine. Could he possibly already have noticed your absence?

It’s not until both men enter a bar nearby that you allow yourself to breathe. Your body trembles and your blood runs cold, you can feel a surge of panic washing over you, is this a mistake? Maybe you should fulfill your duty to your kingdom and not selfishly run away. Maybe you should accept that you are nothing more than a simple tool, maybe... Just maybe... You aren’t good enough.

Hanji notices the look on your face and the way your eyes are fixated on the ground, the way your body begins trembling once again, and the way you seem to hyperventilate. So they look around again quickly and, when they notice the coast is clear, they pull you in for a tight hug, holding your body against theirs as tightly as they possibly can.

“This has already been one hell of a ride, huh?” They chuckle in a desperate attempt to mask the trembling in their voice. Their breathing is shallow, almost as if they are afraid to let their guard down for even a nanosecond. Your fingertips brush against their cheek softly, a smile forming on your lips as you look up at them, your eyes meeting.

“I’m so in love with you,” you whisper softly, your head laying against their chest, “ever since I first met you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be your bride.” Immediately, you notice a maroon blush spread across their face and, with it, an endearing smile, it causes your heart to race in your chest and you nearly stop breathing.

“I… I’ve dreamt of hearing you say that for so long,” they whisper, their voice soothing and warm in contrast with the cold air that surrounds you, “I’ve spent my entire life, from the moment I first saw you, trying to crawl my way up as the most successful doctor in all the land, just so one day I could be worthy of a princess. Let’s get moving, the sooner we get out of here, the sooner I can make you my bride.”

“But you are worthy!” You spout, a little louder than you initially meant to, so you quickly take a look around to make sure no one heard you. Once you realize the coast is clear, you continue in a much quieter tone of voice, “You are extraordinary. You were able to study and explore such complicated diseases, finding cures and even causes. There is no other like you, and for my final command as your princess, never speak such things about yourself again.” You say with a serious expression on your face, “Please.”

Hanji snorts quietly and nods, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Yes, Your Highness. As you wish.” You roll your eyes but the butterflies in your stomach begin to float around once more, the mere sight of their smile is enough to awaken the turmoil inside of you.

The two of you begin to make your way towards the stables once more, you could not be more than a minute or so away when you realize that Elowen has already been prepared and set outside to wait for your arrival. A pit forms in your stomach as you fear you’ve been discovered by someone else but you are quickly greeted by a message from Libet.

“Your Highness,

You have no time to lose, so I took the liberty of preparing your horse myself. She has been fed and there are a few food rations and treats for her in the small pouch around her neck. I am so sorry there isn’t more I can do for you, but do know that I am rooting for you.

Your mother would have been so incredibly proud of the woman you are becoming. It is unfortunate we will never get the blessing of seeing you as our queen, I think you would have been able to change our world. But no matter where you are, Her Majesty and I will be with you, protecting you from afar.

Please, may the two of you be safe and happy on this new journey. May we meet again under better circumstances.

Libet”

Your heart is flooded once more by the intense feelings of appreciation. It was a different kind of love, the kind you had been missing since the Queen’s passing. To have someone care for you and want nothing more than your happiness… It was something your father had never gotten even close to achieving, something he could never understand: how to love his own child.

As you read the letter, Hanji places the two bags you were carrying onto the horse’s saddle, making sure everything is tightly packed into place. They quietly guide the animal a little further outside of the range of the night guards, who are too drunk to even realize what is happening. You place the piece of paper into your pocket, ensuring that this final piece of home will stay with you during your travels.

You decide to mount the horse first, seeing as you have more experience with this kind of situation than Hanji does. Their firm hands give you a gentle booster as you wrap your other leg around Elowen’s body, straddling her back. Then, it’s your turn to offer Hanji some help. As you extend your hand, you notice the pinkish blush that covers their cheeks, their fingers brushing against your palm before they accept your pull, and you can’t help but smile.

Once they find a comfortable position on top of the horse, they pull out a small blanket from one of your bags, placing it above their shoulders and making sure it reaches you as well. Lastly, they wrap their arms around you, still holding onto the cloth as they rest their head on your back. You can feel their soft nod against you, the sign that the two of you are ready to start moving.

Carefully but firmly, you poke the heel of your feet against the horse’s ribs and she starts to move, slowly at first but once you repeat your movements, she begins to pick up speed.

Using the moonlight as your guide, the two of you find yourselves going into the forest. For the final time, you bid the kingdom that raised you goodbye, silently waving goodbye to your mother’s resting spot and the place where she had raised you. But even from an early age, you knew the burden of wearing the crown was too much to bear, so finally managing to get away from it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

As the hooves of your horse crunch the leaves and sticks that fly from the trees onto the ground, Hanji rests their head on your back, arms tightly wrapped around you while always making sure your body is covered by the blanket, protecting you from the night wind as best as they can. You aren’t sure how long the two of you have been moving for, could be a few minutes or a few hours.

Raindrops begin to fall from above, the earth beneath you turns to mud and it splashes onto your clothes. With a sigh, you take a look around, trying to find a place for shelter. When the rain begins to intensify, you hear Hanji’s voice coming from behind you.

“I remember coming into this area with my father once,” they say, snapping their fingers a few times as they try to think of the words, “if I’m not mistaken, there is an abandoned barn just past the old, dirty road. Turn left on that crooked tree and we should be there in less than two minutes.”

You nod, hitting the sides of your horse with the balls of your feet, prompting her to speed up her movements. As usual, Hanji is correct and the barn finally comes into view. By that point, the two of you are already soaked as water has begun to pour from the sky, and loud claps of thunder fill your ears, scaring all three of you.

Once you reach the area, you make sure to place some food down for your horse as Hanji removes the equipment from her back. The two of you begin to pet the animal, reassuring her that she is doing a great job and how thankful you guys are for her hard work bringing you this far. Of course, she probably doesn’t understand, but you like to think she looked content nevertheless.

When you look at Hanji, they have the brightest smile on their face and it turns your heart into a pounding mess. They take a few steps closer, their hand grabbing onto your waist as you feel your body heating up from that small contact, trembling softly not knowing if it is because you are soaked from the rain or due to the softness of Hanji’s touch.

Their hand reaches inside of your shirt, slowly gliding up and down your back as it leaves a trail of goosebumps behind in its wake. Without even realizing it, you avert your gaze, too embarrassed to look at them, only for you to feel their free hand reaching for your chin and carefully forcing you to maintain eye contact, “don’t look away.”

You nod, your lips quivering softly as you shiver. Even in the dark, you can see those hypnotizing brown eyes staring at you, a devious and dangerous smile on their lips as Hanji knows they have you in the palm of their hand. They bring their fingers back to your hips, slightly digging their nails into your soft skin, dragging a whimper out of you.

“H-Hanji…” Your voice falters and you can hear a faint chuckle, their shadow leans forward towards you, lips brushing against your neck and you can’t help but lean back slightly, giving them better access to such a sensitive area. Just as you are starting to fully surrender to them, Hanji pulls away.

“Let’s make a fire and…” Their eyes travel up and down your body before they smile again, “then we can get you out of those wet clothes.” You can feel your entire face burning in embarrassment but you nod, moving around the barn as you look for things to use as kindling.

Most of the things around you are wet as a result of the rain but hidden underneath what used to be a workbench, you find a pile of dry pine cones. Carefully, you bend down to reach for them, watching closely for any rusted nails that might be poking out or any bugs that could be crawling around the area. Once you feel the rough surface against your hand, you call out to Hanji.

“Hey, I found these, do you think it would be enough until the rest of this wood dries off?” You ask, wiping away the hand you used to prop yourself up from the ground. They nod, taking the plants from your hands and running their fingers through it, feeling the texture.

“Yeah, these would be perfect,” they smile, taking a few steps toward the center of the barn. The moonlight and raindrops come through a broken patch on the roof, so while Hanji is in charge of making a fire, you decide to make your way toward the supplies and retrieve some dry clothes while hanging the wet ones to dry.

Slowly, you remove your shirt, the feeling is nearly identical as though you still have the wet clothes on. Goosebumps travel through your skin and you can’t help but shiver violently, your nipples hardening as your skin comes in contact with the chill air.

As you hook your thumb onto the waistband of your pants, you feel a pair of hands wrapping around your torso, the sudden feeling bringing a small gasp out of you. Hanji buries their face on the side of your neck, gently taking in the aroma you exhale, it earns a small chuckle out of them.

“You smell so good,” they whisper, their voice is tender, carrying the softest of tones, yet you can still hear that devious sound, the desire that has been brewing for the past few days, from before the two of you even decided to run away. You nuzzle yourself against their touch and your action only serves to fuel Hanji’s appetite. Their hands grow bolder, tickling your abdomen as they make their way towards your breasts, cupping them tightly, “you are so soft.”

A breathless whimper escapes your lips and you close your eyes, leaning into the sensation their hands are providing you with. Their warm breath now transforms into heartfelt kisses, which then proceed to turn into love bites, marking the area with their teeth. Their left hand carefully shifts so that their index finger and thumb gently pinch your nipple while their right hand begins to glide down your body. You moan quietly in response, not pulling away from the touch.

Hanji smiles, humming softly as their hand finally finds its way toward the waistband of your pants, “take these off,” they order as they pull away, leaving you wanting for more. You can already begin to feel the wetness pooling in your underwear, so you nod and oblige, removing the clothes from your legs and standing before them wearing nothing but your underwear. They shake their head, “I meant all of it.”

The seriousness in their tone catches you off guard but, once again, you nod. Your fingers gently hook to the sides of your panties, pulling them down your body before you drape them over the improvised clothing line you’ve hung on the barn. You’re too embarrassed to look at them, almost as if it was the first time they were seeing you naked.

Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the sound of their footsteps as they place their own clothes onto the line. The thought of their naked body exposed to you causes another surge of wetness to drip down your legs, the excitement coursing through your veins almost as if it were an essential part of your blood. When their fingers touch your arm, you finally open your eyes, sensing their body behind you.

Their touch is featherlike, so soft that it nearly tickles. The words that leave their lips are sweeter than honey and they make you melt as soon as you hear them, “You’re so beautiful, I could just stay like this with you all night.”

You try to think of words to say in response, but your body betrays you and not a single coherent thought goes through your mind, the only answer you can provide them with is a low whimper, a vocal representation of how much you crave their grace.

Their bare chest presses against your back, lips gently brushing against your neck while their right hand travels to explore your skin, going from your arms, then gently brushing against the lower part of your breasts, continuously making its way down your stomach, only to finally find its resting place just above the mound of your pussy. You reach behind you to wrap an arm around their neck, pulling them even closer to your body and you can hear a faint gasp escaping their lips, it has an instant reaction in your heart as it feels like it’s about to run out of your body.

Carefully, their fingers spread your folds apart, exposing your swollen clit to the cold night air. You hiss quietly in response, shutting your eyes tightly as you nuzzle yourself against them. They glide down a bit more, swirling their digits around your tight entrance and gathering the wetness that was once trapped inside.

“You are already so wet for me,” they whisper, nibbling on your shoulder softly. Your face feels like it's on fire and all you can do is surrender to their touch, instinctively spreading your legs apart slightly so Hanji will have better access to the most sensitive area of your body. They chuckle, a low and rough sound, “Good girl.”

Hanji moves their hands away and you grunt in disapproval, but it quickly goes away when Hanji flips you around so you are facing them as they proceed to pick you up in their arms, almost as if you weigh nothing. They carry your body closer to the fire, carefully laying you down on the small camping area the two of you set up.

Their eyes never leave yours, that loving gaze you’ve grown so used to analyzing your every move, every small reaction your body may have to their actions. The smile on their lips never fades, it in fact grows wider once you bring your hand up to cup their face and begin to brush their cheek with your thumb.

Hanji nuzzles themselves against your touch, one hand supporting their body upwards so they are above you and the other softly travels through the sides of your body, forcing a mixture between a moan and a giggle out of you.

“I love the way you react to my touch,” they whisper, their voice laced with desire and passion. Their movements become a bit rougher and it turns into an evident contrast with their kisses, which could only compare to the silk pillows you were so used to sleeping on.

“I love the way you touch me,” you whisper in response, your voice is so low that it is barely audible. Hanji smiles, a simple action that could easily outshine the sun if they tried. Your heart races in your chest and you can feel your excitement dripping down your legs, leaving behind a trail of your dedication towards your beloved.

“I know this is no way to speak to a princess…” They whisper, moving a strand of hair away from your forehead, “But I know how to make this night special for you.” You tilt your head, puzzled by what could they possibly have in mind but, before you have time to ask, they remove the ribbon that holds their autumn-colored hair up. The strands fall on their face and the shadows dance with their skin, your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t seem to be able to look away, absolutely mesmerized by their beauty. This is why their next sentence catches you so off guard, “sit on my face.”

You choke softly on your own spit, using both of your elbows to prop your body up, “I beg your pardon?” You find yourself blinking repeatedly, trying your best to process their request, no, their demand. Hanji chuckles in response, laying their head on the floor.

“You heard me,” is all they say before patting their cheeks, much like you would do on a chair or a… Different “seating” surface. Your entire body burns in embarrassment as your eyes meet, the expression on their face indicating they could not be more serious.

“I don’t want to crush you,” your voice falters and it’s now Hanji’s turn to prop their body up with their elbows. They vigorously shake their head and you know exactly what they are thinking, so you continue, “I… We’ve tried this before… And I almost hurt you. You know I can’t hold myself up after a while.”

“y/n…” The softness in their voice is almost alarming, a dangerous tone that they only used when they wanted to convince you of something, “if you start to hurt me, I will push your ass back up with my hands.” You can tell by the expression on their face that they have been thinking about this for quite some time, just waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up to you again. You let out a long sigh.

“Alright,” you nod as there is a sudden light in their eyes that was not there before, “but if I start to hurt you AT ALL, you will let me know, right?” You give them a pleading look, silently begging them to make this promise. Without missing a beat, it’s Hanji’s turn to nod.

“I promise!” They eagerly respond and, with that, they lay back down on the floor, their cheeks a crimson color as a love-drunk smile takes over their lips.

With unstable legs, you move closer to them, your breathing is shaky and, for once, it’s not from the cold. You can hear your heart beating in your ears and it might as well have been the loudest sound that echoes through these empty barn’s walls. You feel your stomach twirling around anxiously but the sight of Hanji’s eager lips is enough to send a shiver down your spine and put your mind at ease.

Carefully, you place your knees on each side of their face. Your eyes meet theirs and you can’t help but feel embarrassed once more, almost as if this is the first time the two of you are being intimate. The genuine expression on Hanji’s face sends your heart into a flutter and you look away.

As they hook their arms over your thighs, they speak to you in a caring tone, their voice filled with what could only be described as the most raw and unfiltered love for you, “I want you to look at me, please.” Your lower lip trembles but you oblige, tilting your head down so that your eyes can meet, “your scent is intoxicating, I could spend the rest of my days down here, just living in between your legs.”

“S-shut up!” You stutter, the words barely being able to leave your throat. You want to look away, to avert their hungry gaze at all costs but you are drawn to it like a magnet. So you simply look into their whiskey-brown eyes when they first flip their tongue against your wet slit, your body shivering as a moan erupts from deep within you.

Even with their arms wrapped around your thighs, they are able to use their middle fingers to spread your folds apart, giving them better access to your swollen clit. You can hear the wet sounds of your arousal and their saliva being mixed together, along with the sound of their breath as they inhale your essence.

With each time Hanji flicks their tongue, you buck your hips forward in response. The loud sound of the thunderstorm outside covers any noises you are making, so you don’t even worry about trying to remain quiet. Though the cold air feels nice when it comes in contact with you, it doesn’t prevent the strands of hair that stick to your skin or the droplets of sweat that drip down the side of your forehead.

Suddenly, the singular layer of pleasure is split into two when their tongue stops its teasing motions on your entrance and softly begins to enter you. Not only that but there is a second point of pleasure that you can’t quite decipher until you look down at them, their adoring eyes focused on your face once you notice that their nose brushes against your clit.

There is a blush that spreads across their cheeks, their breathing warming up your exposed pussy as they continue to lap their tongue around the deepest areas inside of you. They gulp down every drop of your essence, their movements are so certain that you can tell they have been waiting and preparing for this specific moment for a very long time.

You can feel yourself succumbing to their touch with each passing second, the lack of finesse to their movements would be enough to make any nobleman cry, their tongue pushing and prodding around the entrance to your wet pussy, teasingly lapping inside before returning to the outside while the tip of their nose continues to attend to your swollen clit.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, not because of an orgasm, but because of the way they make sure every inch of your aching cunt is being properly attended to. Your thighs tremble slightly and you can feel your body lowering itself on their face and, as a confirmation, you feel Hanji’s hands shifting from their spot on your pussy to a spot on your ass, where they use very little strength to gently prop your body up once more.

Moans erupt from you with the same intensity as the raindrops that fall against the rooftop. Their name falls from your lips repeatedly, almost as if you are chanting to the world who is the one to make you feel this incredibly good. The sensations increase once you feel their nails digging at the skin of your ass, a quiet gasp escaping from you as a result.

“Did I hurt you?” They stop their movements as soon as they hear you, a concerned expression taking over their features. You shake your head desperately and it earns a giggle out of them, “Do you want me to do it again?” Your voice betrays you and not a single coherent word comes out, only a quiet mumbling sound and a nod.

The feeling of their nails dragging across your skin and leaving behind red marks is enough to cause your body to lower itself against Hanji’s face once more, not from losing balance but because you are desperately seeking more contact with their tongue.

Hanji makes sure to use every part of their face to bring you the maximum amount of pleasure: their nose brushes against the swollen bundle of nerves that sits at the top, their tongue playfully teases your entrance while moving up and down and their lower lips brushing around the area, making sure not a single part of your aching cunt is left unattended.

Their movements are precise, almost desperate as they work their hardest to bring you some well-deserved release. You can’t help but move your hips in perfect synchrony with their tongue as you feel it entering your thigh entrance, exploring every inch as it drags loud moans from you.

“H-Hanji…” You whimper loudly, and your voice is hoarse as a result of trying to compete with the loud sounds that come from outside. Your breath is shaky, one of your hands travels towards their hair, playing with the loose strands of their side bangs as the other rests above their chest, holding yourself up and helping you keep your balance as your hips grind against Hanji’s face, “It feels… So good…”

You can feel the warmth of their breath as they giggle against you, clearly amused by the reactions they are getting out of you. When they pull away slowly, you whine quietly, annoyed by the empty feeling their tongue left behind, but then you hear their voice, low from desire as lust takes over their eyes, “Moan my name… Show me that your heart belongs to me.”

Their words alone are enough to cause another rush of pleasure to gush out from inside of you, straight into their mouth and Hanji can’t help but let out a delighted sound. The warm sensation rises to your cheeks and you find yourself embarrassed to say it, even if they have asked you to, even if you desperately want to.

“Hanji…” You decide to start off quietly, their whiskey-brown eyes shooting open as you feel a smile forming on their occupied lips. Their tongue continues to make its way inside of you, feeling every little contraction from the inside while the tip of their nose is now glistening with your juices. You’re embarrassed, there is no denying it, but your need to please them overturns any of the shyness, “H-Hanji, please… Keep going… I… I need more.”

Your words are breaking up and your hips gain a mind of their own, bucking against your beloved’s face like a loose horse on a track, there is no stopping you now, especially not since the familiar warmth has started to form on the pit of your stomach.

Hanji’s hands hold your ass up, making sure they are not being suffocated by your thighs. They can tell you are getting closer so they use that knowledge as leverage to speed their movements, their entire face now entirely focused on bringing you over the edge.

“Hanji… H-Hanji, you’re going to make me come,” you say in a shaky voice, your breath trembling just as much as your legs as you attempt to keep yourself steady. They take your words to heart, softly and meticulously moving around. Their tongue thrust in and out of you as their hands tightly squeeze your ass, their nails digging into your soft skin.

They know exactly what they are doing to you, there is no doubt in their mind that they are the only one who can make you feel this way, and the thought alone is nearly enough to send Hanji themselves into an orgasm.

With a loud gasp, your body leans forward, your legs shake violently and you nearly feel yourself collapse on top of Hanji’s face but luckily, your hands hold on tightly onto a pile of old wood that finds itself in front of you. That is the only reason why you did not come crashing above them.

Their name falls from your lips with ease, cries of pleasure erupting from you as they slow their movements but refuse to cease them, slowly teasing your aching clit with the very tip of their nose. Your walls contract around their tongue and, by the look on their face, you can tell Hanji is in heaven.

The pleasure washes over your body like a crashing wave and it lasts for a while, just giving you this insane high that could only be comparable to the one you have seen from the guards who go venturing in the forest. This one feels different from the other orgasms you have had while having sex with Hanji… Not only more intense but more intimate as well.

Tears form in your eyes as you finally find enough balance to hop off Hanji’s face, catching a glimpse of your juices covering their face before they use the back of their hand to wipe it all away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment and you want to bury your face on their neck and never look at them again, but you decide against it.

Instead, you lay down next to them, their hand grips tightly around your waist while your fingers gently brush against their face. You lean closer to them, fully taking in the scent that you left behind, lips ghosting above each other before you take a step further and actually kiss them, finally tasting yourself on them.

Hanji’s tongue swirls around with yours, exploring your mouth to the fullest, not an inch goes by untouched and the combination of your saliva and theirs, plus the remainder of your fluids that is left on their face is enough to bring a whimper out of your partner. It’s a taste Hanji has never and will never grow tired of.

Reluctantly, they pull away, the necessity to breathe outweighing the desire the two of you feel in your hearts. The warmth from the fire flickers around you and the shadows of the night dance around their face, making them more beautiful than ever before. The love they have for you is evident in the simple way in which they hold you by the hips, pulling your body as close to them as they possibly can, almost as if they are scared that you will disappear the second you are not within their reach.

“You truly taste like the most addictive treat…” Hanji whispers, their voice husky with desire as their lust-filled eyes analyze every inch of your body, “I can’t help but crave more of you. That pussy of yours is all I can think about…”

Your breathing ceases for a few seconds as you silently choke back on your spit, not because you are embarrassed, although that was slightly the case, but because that was not at all what you were expecting them to say to you.

Not sure how to respond, you bring your lips against theirs once more. Your tongue rushes above their lower lip carefully, taking in every drop of your wetness that you might have missed. You can hear a faint moan escaping their throat, covered in desire.

Slowly, your fingers begin to trace their way down their chest, carefully touching the space in between their breasts. You start with circular movements, using the tip of your nails to leave behind a few red marks on their sun-kissed skin, and, in response, Hanji closes their eyes, finally allowing themselves to be vulnerable.

Once a breathless whimper escapes their lips, you decide to get a bit more daring, tracing the contour of their underboob with your finger. Their skin is soft and you know it would be so easy to leave a love mark if you so desired, but this time isn’t about marking each other, it’s about feeling the love the two of you have shared toward each other for more than a decade.

You nuzzle your face against their neck, leaving behind love-filled kisses that awaken goosebumps along their skin. The smell of their sin has always been one of your favorite things about them, the feeling of their wet hair brushing against your cheek, tickling your face ever so softly.

Your fingers continue to travel and explore every inch of their body, tracing a gentle line above their stomach and it causes Hanji to giggle and then immediately pout. You know how ticklish they are and yet, you just can’t help yourself but be delicate in your touches.

With a smile on your face, you take a second to grip tightly at their hips, pulling them as close to you as you possibly can, eyes closed as you enjoy the warmth emanating from their body. The fear and anxiety you felt just mere hours ago dissipate with each passing second, the horrifying thought of a life without them seeming more like a memory than a possibility.

“Feeling clingy, aren’t we?” Hanji whispers, a grin so big stamped on their face that you could even see the singular dimple on the left side of their face. Normally, this would be the moment where you would roll your eyes, playfully push them away or even tell them to shut up, but they are right. You are feeling clingy.

“I just…” You begin whispering, trying to explain your track of thought without making a complete fool out of yourself, you are failing miserably, “I love you. I have loved you for so long that I don’t know who I am without having these feelings for you in my heart.”

“y/n, I- I,” they begin but you shake your head, squeezing their hips just a bit harder. Hanji knows that this is your silent way of asking them to stop talking and let you finish whatever it is that needs to come out of your chest. With a deep breath, you continue.

“You saved me, more times than I can count,” you whisper, your voice is shaky is a cocktail of emotions, “so I am thankful for the chance of ever being with someone like you. So yeah, I guess after everything that has happened today, I am feeling a little clingy.”

By the look on their face, you can tell they feel the smallest bit of remorse about teasing you, but it is not like they are going to apologize. You both chuckle softly, Hanji’s hand gently brushing against your cheek as you find yourself mesmerized by the spring in their smile while autumn was the season that stared back at you, those brown eyes doing wonders to your heart.

Hanji’s tongue brushes against your lower lip, traveling from one corner to the other before they proceed to nibble on the thin skin. For the next move, their tongue invades your mouth, swallowing the chorus of sounds that comes from your throat like it's a pond of crystal clear water in the middle of a desert.

Before you give them a chance to reply, you decide to finally continue to move your fingers down, playfully twirling their pubic hair around. Your kiss continues, slowly and tender at first, bringing out the years of practice you have had with each other, perfectly in sync. Your fingers finally brush against Hanji’s clit, so you gently rub it in circles for a few seconds before using your hand to push their legs to the side, giving yourself better access.

Their desire is undeniable and palpable, they can’t hide the blush that has been spreading from their cheeks onto their ears nor can they hide the wetness that begins to pool onto the bed in a reaction to their lack of underwear.

“Tell me what you are thinking about…” You whisper, your curious fingers dipping a little below their original spot to drag out a bit of the wetness that begins to pool inside of them. You can hear Hanji’s quiet gasp and a smirk creeps onto your lips, “Tell me what has made you this wet.”

You can tell they are embarrassed, not only by the way their entire face immediately goes from a faint blush to a dark red as it spreads to their ears but also by the way they squirm beneath your touch, hips moving forward in desperate search for more contact with your fingers.

They struggle to keep their breathing steady but every attempt is futile, the words they were so proudly flaunting around when it was your turn to be vulnerable suddenly disappear and the only sounds that they can express are breathless and desperate moans.

Only when you threaten to move your fingers away do the words return to them, the response is nearly immediate as a sudden fear takes over their heart, “I… I keep thinking about y-you…” They know that isn’t a good enough answer, they trip over their words, flustered as their mouth dries up. Your eyes never leave their face, admiring every small freckle, even droplet of sweat that falls to their eyebrows, every spec of dirt left behind by the blowing wind and rain.

“What about me?” You inquire, wanting to hear the specifics of their desires. Your heart beats powerfully in your chest, so much that it nearly hurts. Your love for them has never faltered, from the first moment the two of you met, you have been inseparable, hearts beating together as one. The scenery of your beloved by the fire is engraved in your brain as you make a point to memorize every detail about this moment.

“T-The way you looked when my tongue was inside of you,” Hanji begins to speak breathlessly, with every word that exits their lips, you increase the pressure on their clit, rubbing gentle circles while using their own wetness to make sure there is no friction, “all the ways I can make you sound,” they moan, eyes rolling to the back of their head in pleasure.

“Keep going,” you indulge, the devilish smile on your face never once faltering. Gently, you begin to nibble on their earlobe, feeling as their grip around your shoulders tightens. They want to be as close to you as possible, even if it means your bodies will melt together under the fire and become one.

“I keep thinking about the way you look at me when you are about to come,” their voice falters slightly, trembling from desire. Their heart beats at a thousand miles per hour, and a few droplets of rain make their way inside the barn and dare to fall onto their head, mingling with the sweat that forms on their hairline. You can see their breath with every word that exits their mouth and yet, the cold doesn’t affect either of you in the slightest. “I think about the way your lips feel against my skin, especially when they - Ahh..”

You don’t give them enough time to finish the last sentence. You lower your torso softly, bringing your attention now towards their breasts, your left hand supports your body up as your lips tightly wrap around their nipple, tongue firmly swirling around the raised bud while your finger starts to slowly make its way towards their entrance.

Hanji arches their body slightly, attempting to guide your digits towards their most sensitive area. You can see how eager they are, not only by the way their hips buck forward but also by the small quantity of viscous liquid that has slipped from in between their legs, you chuckle quietly as your tongue continues to move around their nipple,

A small part of you wants to be slightly cruel and continue to tease them but when you look at them, those pleading eyes tugging at the strings of your heart until you can’t deny them any longer. Carefully, you slide your middle finger inside of them, their nails gripping at your skin as they close their eyes, a happy grin tugging at the corners of their mouth.

Once your finger is fully settled inside of them, you begin to thrust it in and out, dragging pleased moans out of Hanji, even if your movements are still slow and loving. But even though Hanji found themselves enjoying this experience, they needed more, you had been teasing them for a while, and having you sit on their face earlier was the cherry on top. They weren’t sure how long they would last at this pace. Their fingers drag over your arm, begging for more.

Not only do you comply and begin to speed up your movements, you decide that adding a second finger would be the best course of action. With your index and middle fingers buried down to the third knuckle inside of them, you pick up the pace, your fingers scissoring quickly.

Hanji is nothing but a blushing mess, their moans are loud as they try to bury their face on your neck. You continue your assault on their breasts, suckling on their nipples like your life depends on it, the tip of your fingers brushing against their g-spot, tickling them from the inside out as you try your best to help them reach their climax.

The palm of your hand grinds against Hanji’s clit, adding an extra layer of pleasure to the whole thing while your fingers continue to move in and out, dragging against the walls of their pussy as they continue to dance inside of them. Up and down, one side to the other, there was no direction you weren’t moving in.

You can feel their cunt getting wetter, more desperate for you as they continue to moan. You finally move your lips away from their breasts, your eyes finally meeting once more as Hanji’s free hand runs over your face, thumb gently brushing above your cheek and you can see a single tear of pleasure forming beneath their eyelashes.

“I love you,” they whisper, their chest rising and falling desperately as they continue to buckle their hips in perfect unison with your fingers, there is no stopping this now. Their breaths become even more dysregulated, the desperation in their voice nearly palpable as they continue to repeat the same words over and over again, almost like a mantra, “I love you.”

“I love you too, sunshine,” you smile, hoping that your words will reach them, “I want to make you feel good.”

“You are…” They move their face closer to yours, foreheads touching as they wrap both their arms around your neck, propping themselves up in a way that allows your fingers to reach even deeper inside of them, “it feels so fucking good.”

It was rare to hear them curse, so for Hanji to say such a thing, meant you were more than definitely doing something correctly. You continue your movements, your lips ghosting above theirs as you speed up once more, the tips of your fingers fully exploring every single inch of their insides, leaving no pleasurable spot untouched.

They close their eyes tightly, mouth nearly hanging open as they barely find the strength to speak, “y/n,” your name falls from their lips with such ease, like their vocal cords were made to play the symphony that is your name, “you are going to make me come.”

“Come for me, Hanji,” you whisper, lips brushing above their cheek, carefully planting kisses on the area. You can feel their walls begin to tighten around your fingers, their pelvis raising in the air as they get closer to the edge, all you need to do is that one final push, “I love you.”

Those three sacred words always did the trick. With a loud scream, Hanji’s body begins to shake next to yours, arms pulling you closer as your fingers are nearly pushed out by the intensity of their spasms, but that itself isn’t enough to stop you. As you readjust yourself slightly so your body is more on top of theirs, you push in deeper inside, the tips of your digits continuing to brush against their g-spot while you slowly switch from in and out movements to circular ones.

They cling to you for dear life, wanting nothing more than to feel themselves being cradled in your arms. Once the intense pleasure wave has passed and their body finally seems to stop convulsing around your fingers, you decide to pull them out, leaving behind not only an empty feeling inside of them but also a long trail of their juices.

“You did so good, sunshine,” you say, bringing your digits close to your lips. Hanji’s eyes widen as they realize what you are about to do and their cheeks become covered by a darker shade of red than you have ever seen before. You smile, taking your fingers into your mouth as your tongue swirls around, taking in every last drop that they have left behind. You can’t help but hum happily, the taste of their pussy being the most delicious meal you have ever had in your entire life.

They watch you in a daze, almost as if they are under hypnosis. A mixture of scents fills the air: the smell of the rain against the grass outside, the smell of the fire crackling next to you, the smell of your sweaty bodies as you become one, but the smell of sex overpowers any and all others.

After a few seconds, you remove your fingers from your mouth, not a single drop of Hanji’s juices remains and, instead, a small string of saliva finds itself attached to the area. It’s the most sensual scene they have ever seen and, for some reason, they simply can’t avert their eyes.

Hanji places their hand on the back of your neck, their fingers lacing themselves with the strands of hair attached to your skin by a layer of sweat. Once they finish readjusting, they pull your face towards theirs, lips crashing against yours in a hunger-filled kiss, swollen lips desperately searching for some sort of relief as they can taste themselves on your tongue.

Your teeth gently nibble on the soft skin of their lips, pulling the flesh towards you until it earns a long moan from Hanji and it draws a few drops of blood and neither of you seem to care about or mind about the newfound metallic taste.

Reluctantly, the two of you pull away, only a single string of saliva connecting your bodies. Your eyes meet Hanji’s and you are met with a look you are more than familiar with: the necessity for more. A warm feeling takes over your features as your chest rises and falls, you want to say something, anything that would make this feeling go away but the words fail you. All the confidence you had mere moments ago disappears and it’s up to Hanji to take the next step.

“You are so beautiful,” they whisper, their words washing over you like warm water on a cold winter night, “I am so lucky that I am the only one who gets to see you like this, the only person who gets to see Her Highness, Princess y/n, in a flustered state, sweaty and with your hair all tangled up. I want to be the only one… for the rest of our lives.”

“It has always been you,” you respond quickly, your voice trembling with emotion as you continue, “My first crush, my first kiss, my first time, every first I have ever had has been yours and I plan to keep it this way.”

It’s now Hanji’s turn to look away, their eyes are fixated on the wall until you bring your fingers gently towards their chin, moving their face ever so tenderly so they are looking at you once more. Your heart races in your chest, wanting nothing more than to look into their whiskey-brown eyes while you declare your love.

“One time, after I grew tired of reading the same old books in the castle’s library and begging my father for new ones, Libet secretly snuck into this extremely old book,” you begin to explain, noticing how Hanji’s eyes are shining even more brightly than before, they pay close attention to every word that dares leave your lips, “it came from a very distant land, somewhere I had never heard before but somehow it was still in English, much to my luck.”

“You and your books,” they smile playfully and you roll your eyes in disapproval before letting out a heartwarming giggle.

“In the book, I read about something called “The Red Thread Of Fate,” and it’s a theory that two people connected by a red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The cord may get tangled, but it will never break.” Your voice is now lower than a whisper, blood rushing through your cheeks as you explain your favorite tail, “The following day, I met you. It always felt like we were - “

“Meant to be,” Hanji finishes your sentence and you nod. You cup their face gently, thumb lovingly brushing above their cheek until you notice goosebumps forming on their skin once more. You lean down slowly, placing a couple of kisses on their neck, earning a few eager moans as they lean against you.

Your hands begin to explore their torso, aiming for their breasts while your fingers pinch their nipples gently. When they begin to exhale those sweet, sweet harmonies, you are no longer able to control yourself. You sink your teeth onto the smooth skin of their neck, leaving behind a mark, not a big one, but enough that they will remember it by tomorrow morning.

You desperately want to taste them again, this time directly from the source, but you don’t have the chance to make your way down. Instead, Hanji takes your chin away from their neck, fingers sliding down towards your throat as they ever so gently squeeze around it, earning a moan out of you.

“You’re going to be a good girl and listen to me, won’t you?” They ask, pulling you closer with a devious grin on their face, teeth digging into the flesh of their lower lip. All you can do is nod, your mouth hanging open for a slight second as you pay close attention to them.

You want to respond, you want to say something but words simply refuse to come out. Your brain has been wiped clean and the only coherent thought that even remotely comes to mind is Hanji: their slightly crooked smile, the raspy sound of desire in their voice, the desperation present on their touch as they dig their nails into your skin.

You whimper, that is all you can do in this situation. Their usually sweet eyes are now piercing through your body like a wild animal looks at their prey like they are addicted and you are the most fascinating drug they have ever had the luck of tasting.

Your hands go through their abdomen, fingertips carefully analyzing every little crook and dip, every scar they have acquired throughout their life, and even the smallest strands of hair. Your heart dips into your throat, nearly escaping your body but somehow, you can hold onto it. You want to tell Hanji how beautiful they are, how much you love them, how much you want this, but they are faster. Their words break the silence.

“I’m going to spread my legs, okay?” Hanji says, guiding you through the process. You nod and you catch a quick glimpse as the corners of their lips lift into a smirk, they continue to speak, “I want you on top of me, just like we used to do.”

You nod once more, focusing all of your attention on making sure you are following their instructions perfectly. Just like they said, Hanji’s legs part ways, their left leg is stretched on the bed while they adjust their right upwards, you take in the sight of their soaked pussy, the last few drops of her cum slide down her ass and land onto the ground, soaking the area below.

With your left hand, you carefully move their right leg up slightly, their knee touching their chest as they let out an amused sigh, this being the first time in years that this particular scenery plays in front of them. You slowly throw your right leg above theirs, your wet pussy pushing against Hanji's as you position yourself above them.

As your wet vulvas begin to touch, the two of you can’t help but moan in perfect harmony, a symphony of breathless whimpers filling the atmosphere. With your free hand, you guide Hanji’s palm towards your breasts and, eagerly, they begin toying with your nipple, pulling at the bud while watching for the pleasured expressions on your face.

It’s like something flips in your brain and your hips gain a mind of their own, eagerly bucking back and forth. You push yourself forward, applying more pressure to the point of contact between your two bodies and you can tell exactly where Hanji’s mind is in this moment.

With your free hand, you begin to explore their torso, nails dragging against their sun-kissed skin as it contrasts with the red marks you leave behind. The sweat on their face glistens as the light emitting from the fire washes over their features, their fingertips toying with your nipples before ghosting over to your hips, pulling you closer as they increase the pressure of your bodies pressing together.

“I love you,” they say in between whimpers, their voice trembling in a mixture of desire and need. You can’t help but feel yourself melting in response, a smile plastered on your face as you throw your head slightly back, your hair tickling your skin. Their fingers begin to dig bruises into the skin of your hips, an attempt to encourage you to speed up your movements, the sweet words pouring from their lips like a waterfall that cannot be stopped, “my heart calls for you with every beat, with every breath I take. I’m yours and yours alone.”

Your heart beats forcefully in your chest and suddenly all the moisture disappears from your throat, it’s nearly impossible for you to swallow and you almost choke on your words, but you want to return the sweetness they are expressing to you. So you sink yourself deeper against their aching core, the wet sounds filling the air as it mixes with the desperate moans the two of you let out.

“You’re angelic,” your brain isn’t sure as to what you are trying to say at this moment, so you allow your heart to do the talking for once, your breath is unsteady in between whimpers, “every part of you, every strand of hair that falls out of place, every freckle on your shoulders, every little scar on you is perfect. It’s almost like you were made for me to love.”

You continue to roll your hips, your cunt rubbing against theirs in a frantic rhythm as the two of you search for a high that seems closer than you could ever imagine. Despite what it may seem, Hanji’s body is more defined than they allow other people to know, it’s a direct result of constantly working in their father’s herb garden for most of their life.

From this angle, you can fully admire the silhouette of their body. You can pay close attention to the small arch of their spine, their back no longer touching the ground as they search for an even more intense connection between your two bodies. You close your eyes for a split second, still being able to taste their juices on your tongue.

Once your eyelids lift once more, you realize Hanji’s face is starting to contort into one you are more than familiar with. You yourself begin to feel the familiar tingling sensation as it forms in the pit of your stomach, and it only encourages you to pick up the pace.

"Fuck, baby girl," Hanji hisses in pleasure, their fingernails digging at your hips enough to draw a couple droplets of blood but that little bit of pain only adds to your pleasure. The way your wet pussy rubs up against theirs in a slow grind, the bundle of nerves colliding against one another as the two of you continue to whimper each other’s names. Hanji tilts their hips up ever so slightly, grinding back against you and matching your quick pace. You can feel your blood rushing faster and faster through your body, “I’m close…”

You nod, hands wrapping around their abdomen as you continue to hold yourself against them, “I-I’m close too…” You want to sound like the confident person you were just a few minutes ago, but that persona is long gone. All that is left behind is a whimpering mess, who can’t stand the mere thought of stopping her movements, “H-Hanji… Hanji, I…”

It hits you like a tidal wave. You aren’t even able to finish your sentence before your body begins to shake violently, your grip around them tightening as you throw your head back, you tried so hard to be quiet throughout the entire night but, just this once, you can’t help but scream their name in pure bliss.

Hanji isn’t far behind. In fact, the sight of your orgasm on top of them, your excess of juices dripping onto their entrance and mixing with their own was enough to shake them to their very core. Their nails dig into you tightly as they continue to move, drawing out every last bit of pleasure they can from this interaction.

You hold yourself into place and you can feel their clit spasms against yours, tears of pleasure forming in your eyes as you continue to whimper weakly. It takes nearly a minute for the entire effect to end and, only when the two of you are certain that there is nothing else in the tank, is when you unhook your legs, allowing your limp body to carefully come crashing down above their abdomen.

The two of you breathe heavily, lungs burning in a desperate search for oxygen. Your skin sticks together due to the sweat and neither of you even dares to move, except for Hanji’s fingers, which begin to lightly brush above the back of your right arm.

“I - “ the two of you say at the exact same time. Neither of you can help but chuckle at the situation, before doing it again, “You go first.”

With a small nudge of your head, Hanji begins to speak, “I knew from such a young age that I wanted to be your partner, that I needed to make you my girlfriend, even if at that point, it only meant holding hands and reading books together.” You notice a few tears begin to form in their eyes as they shift their face away from yours, trying to hide how vulnerable they feel at this moment. Almost as an instinct, you bring your hand up towards their chin, carefully turning their face back towards you, a few tears of your own threatening to fall down, “my entire childhood, I was surrounded by so much tragedy and death that I just assumed I was a bad omen, attracting sadness wherever I went.”

As soon as their words leave their mouth, you frown, a pout forming on your lips as you listen to them. You shake your head, refusing to continue to listen to them as they continue to speak about themselves in such an ill manner. But before you have time to intervene, kiss them, or even just tell them to shut up, Hanji takes your hand on theirs, fingers lacing together as their lips plant a small token of their affection on your knuckles.

“You taught me that wasn’t the case,” they whisper, tear-stained cheeks turning even redder as they blush, “you showed me that good things CAN happen to me. After all, I ended up with you, and I’ll be damned if I don’t admit you are the very best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You prop your head up on Hanji’s chest, the most beautiful brown eyes meeting yours in a love-filled stare. No words were needed at this moment for the entire atmosphere to be completely overtaken by the passion the two of you share for each other.

“I thought my life would always be this straight line,” you being speaking, your voice barely managing to get out of your throat, a result of all the moans but also the emotions that you had bottled up for a while, you want to let them out calmly but your mouth refuses to listen to your brain, so you continue, “I thought I would always have to dress up, play my part, marry a man and have several kids to make sure the bloodline and the kingdom were secured.”

“The idea of another person, especially a man, touching you makes my skin crawl,” for a second, you notice as their usually brown orbs turn dark, the jealousy in their voice not subtle at all. Before they have the chance to continue their rant, you plant a kiss on their lips. It doesn’t last long and, unlike the previous kisses you had been sharing that night, this one isn’t filled with lust, but with longing.

“My point is that from a very young age, I knew exactly who I was going to be,” you whisper against their lips, still planting a few kisses here and there as the words pour from your mouth, though your voice is still trembling, you have never been more certain of what you are trying to say, “and then when I met you, I was even more certain.” When Hanji shoots you a confused look, you smile and continue, “I knew I wanted to be your bride.”

A comforting silence grows between the two of you as you lay your head back down on their chest, the beats of their heart directly against your ear plus the sound of the rain outside truly made the entire experience so much better. It felt almost… heavenly. A while passes, you aren’t sure if it is minutes or seconds, but it’s enough for your eyes to begin growing heavy, a smile stamped on your face.

"I guess I haven't officially asked, have I?" They say, their fingers just ghosting above the back of your arm. You open your eyes just enough to look at them before propping yourself up on their chest, placing your chin on your hand in the hopes of not causing them any discomfort, a puzzled expression of your own on your face, and it drags an endearing laugh out of Hanji. "To be my bride."

Your face suddenly feels like it’s on fire. Of all the things you were expecting them to say at this moment, this one was not on the list. Yes, you were expecting a proposal eventually, maybe even at some point soon, but that wasn’t the reason why you brought it up in the first place. Not that you are complaining, to actually hear them say it? To hear them ask the very thing you have been craving since you were eight? Oh, the speed at which your heart beats in your chest could only be compared to a healthy stallion being set free in the wild for the first time.

"Please, Your Highness," they begin, a smug smirk stamped all over their features and a giggle escaping their throat once they notice how you roll your eyes at them, "y/n... will you give me your hand and marry me?"

Now it's your turn to laugh, a sound Hanji could never get used to, for it always meant more than the entire world to them. For some reason, they seem so nervous, almost as if they are afraid that you will actually say no to their proposal. You shake your head and place a kiss on their cheek, "I will marry you. I will gladly take your last name and get rid of my father's. I want nothing more than to live a long and happy life with you, Hanji Zoe.”

The light from the fire makes your shadow seem angelic like a goddess descending from the heavens just to bless them. Hanji can’t help themselves. They immediately pull your face closer, their lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, their voice is a mess of hums and whimpers, but there is no sexual connotation behind the sounds.

After you pull away, Hanji doesn’t open their eyes. Instead, they pull you closer into their chest, burying your face in the crook of their neck while their fingers hold onto your back tightly, desperately hoping to keep you from moving, but it’s not like you had any plans on doing so.

There is a smile on your lips that refuses to fade. The warmth from your beloved’s skin plus the sound of the pouring rain are enough to lull you into a deep slumber and for the first time since the night your mother died, you find yourself free from the nightmares that have haunted you.

By the time you wake up, the thunderstorm feels like nothing but a distant memory as the dark clouds have been replaced by the bright sunlight that enters the barns through the broken windows and the cracks. It takes your eyes a second to adjust and, by the time you become fully conscious, you realize you are lying there alone.

Your naked body is now covered by the previously rain-wet blanket and the fire next to you is now extinguished. You take a quick glance around, and can’t help but frown when you can’t seem to find Hanji anywhere. You stand up, finding your dry clothes lying next to you and the small hairbrush that was once in your bag now sitting on a compact mound of hay.

Once you are dressed and miraculously remove all the knots from your hair, you make your way outside. The first thing you see is your horse, happily eating and drinking by a small lake a few feet away. The pout that once took over your features now dissolves into a happy smile as you make your way towards her.

Carefully not to startle her, you place your hand on her flank, fingers gently brushing against the soft fur as she turns around. The horse’s head bobs up and down a couple of times before she immediately returns to her previous affairs and you decide to leave her be.

From the other side of her silhouette, you can hear the water splashing around, so cautiously you find yourself making your way toward the origin of the sound. Your heart immediately melts and you have to fight all of your instincts to prevent your body from turning into mush as soon as you see the view ahead:

Hanji’s pants are cuffed up to their calves, they aren’t wearing a shirt since it would just make it completely wet, so the water droplets fall directly onto their skin. Their hair is tied up in a messy bun and they hold a knife in their hand. One quick glance over to the side and you notice a quickly handmade basket holding a handful of fish and some fruits.

You take a few steps forward and clear your throat, wanting to make your presence known without alarming them. Promptly, they turn their head around and flash you the brightest smile you have ever seen, your heart rapidly swells with a thousand emotions, but the most prominent ones are love and affection.

“Good morning,” they say, taking a few steps towards you. Their arm wraps around your waist as they pull you close, a grin tugging at the corners of their mouth as their lips press against yours in a quick and messy kiss. It doesn’t last for long but it’s enough to make you smile from ear to ear, a truthful reminder that when it comes to Hanji, you always wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Good morning,” you respond once your lips part ways, your voice having a sluggish and almost needy tone to it, “you should have woken me up, you know. I could have helped!”

Hanji chuckles while shaking their head, their grip on your waist tightening as they place the knife on their belt, “I didn’t need help. Besides, you look so beautiful, I couldn’t bring myself to wake you up.” That stupid response, always made your entire face burn and always made you feel so shy just to hear it, but this reaction is exactly what they are looking for. “Let me make you some food, you must be starving.”

At the simple mention, you can feel your stomach growling. Your fingers brush against the fabric of the shirt that covers your stomach, allowing you to feel just how hungry you are. So you decide not to put up a fight anymore, simply nodding as they let go of you and reach for the basket on the ground, picking it up before making their way back to the barn.

Your eyes keep tracing the outline of Hanji’s body as they walk in front of you, the love marks you left behind on their neck are oh so visible when their hair is up like this. You can see every small mole hidden on the back of their neck and it sends a shiver down your spine, the thought of the previous night returning to you as you feel the heat growing in between your legs once more.

The only reason why you are pulled out of those thoughts is because Hanji dries their body off and puts on their shirt. A chuckle escapes their lips as they notice just how deeply you had been staring but, for once, they decide not to tease you about it.

Instead, they walk towards the spot that used to be the firepit, reaching for the same objects you used to make a fire the night before in the hopes of igniting it again. Gently, they pat the spot next to them, silently begging you to take a seat. It takes you less than two seconds to make yourself comfortable, your head resting on top of their shoulder as they begin to clean the fish.

It takes around two hours for the both of you to eat and clean up after yourselves, wanting to hide any and all traces of your stay as best as possible. While Hanji makes sure to cover up the fire, you place everything back in the bags, looking around for signs of anything you might have forgotten or anything around the barn that might be useful.

When you’re done, you reach for the piece of paper with the visual representations of all the lands explored by men. Your eyes go back and forth, trying to analyze every and all possible scenarios, the most hidden yet safest paths, and routes that might lead you towards freedom. Though, it is hard when you aren’t exactly sure of where you are going.

You can feel yourself growing more anxious, your breath trembling while a knot forms in your throat. It only dissipates when you feel Hanji’s presence behind you, the warmth that emanates from their body immediately calming you down as you realize they are just what you need.

“There’s a village a few more miles west,” Hanji says, pointing towards the blurry smudges on the map that slightly resemble a pair of mountains. Their chin rests on your shoulder, fingers brushing from the paper towards your hand and you can’t help but smile, “Maybe when we get there, we can get some more supplies and I think Elowen here would appreciate some more fresh carrots and apples.”

You hand them the map and nod, resting on your forehead on your horse’s muzzle, your heart beats at a rapid pace as you scratch her favorite spot on her chin. Her fur is warm and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain or discomfort despite the extremely long journey, so you let out a content sigh, knowing that this is all you could ask for for your most loyal friend.

“Do you think we will ever stop running?” You say in a whispered voice, a subtle hint of regret imprinted in your words but it is enough for Hanji to notice it. For a few seconds, all you can hear is the sound of the wind blowing the leaves of the trees and you ask yourself if they heard you, but before you can repeat your question, they sigh.

“I don’t know,” there are a lot of feelings laced in their voice: fear is the most prominent one, but also a bit of sadness. However, never once did you find a single shred of regret in their words. They continue, “But if it means keeping you safe, I will go with you to the ends of the Earth. We will go beyond the areas on the maps and form a little life of our own at the edges of the universe.”

You feel your entire face heating up at their words, even more so when you feel their hands wrapping around your waist as they place their head in between your shoulder blades. Your heart nearly skips a beat and a brand new wave of butterflies awakens in your stomach. It’s your turn to sigh.

“Do you mean it?” You ask softly. You already know the answer and still, your heart yearns to hear them say those three little words yet again. Hanji nods and you can feel them as they smile against your back.

“With every bit of who I am.” They respond, their fingers digging at your hips as they flip you around so the two of you are facing each other. Their hands continue to rest on your hips, thumbs gently brushing against the dips while your arms wrap around their neck, your face standing mere inches away from theirs. Their voice is now smooth like butter, as they finally proclaim what you have been desperately craving to hear, “I love you, y/n.”

A shaky moan escapes your throat, your body melting as an immediate response to Hanji’s words, to their actions, to the mere way they look at you. It’s like your lips gain a mind of their own, immediately seeking solace and comfort in their kiss.

Every flick of their tongue raises the hairs on the back of your neck, the moment their saliva mixes with yours, it fills your taste buds with a flavor you could only compare to the sweetest nectar derivative from a sunflower born from a drop of sunshine. Your eyes are tightly shut but you can clearly see their face in your brain: the small way their nose scrunches when they are moving their head, the twitch on the corner of their lip when they realize how badly they have you in the palm of their hand, or even the way their eyelids tremble, struggling to remain shut.

As Hanji’s petal soft lips continued to brush against yours, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, all the fear you once had about running away melting with every beat of your racing heart. For the first time in a while, you fully allow yourself to be submerged in the overwhelming feeling that is loving Hanji Zoe.

The need for air begins taking over your body as your lips tremble against theirs but your mind is too clouded by the need to stay in this moment to pull away, so unfortunately for you, Hanji is the one to listen to reason and separate themselves from you. You pout, sadness clearly engraved on your features but it doesn’t last long. Hanji brings one of their hands up from your hips towards your face, their thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek ever so softly.

There is no need for words to be said between the two of you, so all you can do is nuzzle yourself against their palm, a trembling breath making its way out of your chest, almost as if it had been sitting there for as long as you have been alive.

You sigh, turning away from their touch as you take a few sure steps towards Elowen, who begins to excitedly clap her hooves against the ground when she notices that you begin to adjust her saddle. You can feel the warmth of the sun soaking into your skin and into your heart as you watch Hanji place your bags in their designated spot. They smile shyly to themselves as they gently pat the horse on the ass, a playful action that earns a neigh from the animal.

Once the two of you find yourselves ready, you are the first one to hop on the horse’s back, carefully scooting forward and adjusting yourself so that your beloved will have enough space to sit down. You reach your hand down carefully and Hanji giggles in response at how delicate your movements are, the blue blood that courses through your veins still apparent.

Nevertheless, their rough fingers brush against your palm as they grab hold of you. Their foot shakingly touching the stirrup, unsure of when it would be the appropriate moment to leap from the ground. So in hopes of giving them a bit of assistance, you squeeze their hand gently, tightening your grip just enough to give them a boost of confidence.

That simple small action works like a charm and, within milliseconds, Hanji finds themselves sitting behind you on top of the horse once more. They wrap the cloak around the both of you once more, making sure that at least your heads are properly covered but not blocking your vision. Then, once you are both settled, they wrap their arms around your waist tightly, their cheek resting in between your shoulder blades once more.

You can tell that they have a smile on their face and the warmth of their body provides you with a sensation that is more than enough to keep the cold fronts away. So with a sigh, you carefully hit the heel against the horse’s ribs, kissy sounds making their way past your lips as she begins to gallop towards the village Hanji mentioned earlier.

As the trees pass you by, a sense of calm washes over you. “I would be getting married right about now if I had stayed behind,” you think to yourself. You can’t help but wonder if the royal guards are looking for you right about now if everything is okay with Libet or even Tegan. If your father has had yet another heart attack while having a fit of rage.

You shake your head, pushing away every thought that could be related to your old life. Your Highness, Princess y/n, the king’s only child and heiress to the throne died the moment her father discovered her secret romance with a peasant.

At this moment, all that matters is that you can’t wait to find out who it is that you can be now that you are free from the chains of royal duties and responsibilities that tied you in place. You can’t begin to conceive of a life in which you aren’t with Hanji, a life in which the two of you aren’t living together in a cabin far away.

It’s a life you have been dreaming about and finally, you are about to discover just how happy you can be while living the simplest of lives. After all, that was one of the many benefits of being a pauper.

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coolyiooo · 9 months ago

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Please report @m2kitwz for copying my writings and claiming that im the one copying her "work"

^gotta prove that I didn't copy m2kitwz "work"

For the baby scenario, it was requested.

So was the birthday scenario, and ik you didn't write it, but neither did you write the baby scenario

Here's the rough drafts of my writings. They have weird titles but if you look back at the original post on my account, they were posted on the same day and a couple minutes apart bc I was editing them

Here's proof that I also made my own cover of the book. Why would I have the same cover of "your book"? If I truly copied it, that'd be dumb. It was a different cover from back in the day too but here's a screenshot.

It's true that the baby scenario is popular, but why would I wait a month to publish the writing if I could easily copy and paste it (if I truly copied from you) the next day or two weeks?

These are the pics you used to prove that I'm "copying" you, but you also said that you made it private for only you can see it, right? But tell me why the amount/total of reads and stars are different if nobody else can read this book that you apparently made?

❗⚠️❗⚠️❗If you truly wrote my writings....why don't you publicly open the Wattpad book up, that you apparently made, for everyone to read? We can see if the comments are still there and see if they truly add up to what they are responding to. ❗From what I can see here as well is that you have 30 chapters in "your book" while mine has 22...so let's see these 8 other chapters that you have created! But you can't prove it unless you make "your book" public again and it's gotta be in the next couple of 1-3 days bc if you take about two weeks to make it public , we'll believe that you made 8 new chapters during these two weeks, but you have no need to make these 8 chapters if you got it all set and ready to go!❗⚠️❗⚠️❗

Just got proof that your "Wattpad account", 'behind you' , isn't even your account.

❤️🖤"L Take Skill Issue" - Dazai 🖤❤️

Also my Wattpad account was made in Feb 2020. Idk if that's proof but there's that.

Don't know what else to say, but if you did create these writings into Wattpad 2016 why would I copy and paste every single one onto the app, i use to write, and use them until 8 years later? Kinda far fetched

@m2kitwz (the one who's made copies my writings) anymore proof you need, darling? Id happily made a screen recording if you need it too. Idk how you photoshopped it or something to make it look like you wrote my writings in 2016 but that's cool

Also some of these pics are taken by taking a picture of my computer screen

⚠️Edit : Please don't send death threats or anything hateful to my copier 🙏🙏 just report them please ⚠️

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smolvenger · 8 months ago

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In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Reader blurb)

Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.

Warnings: cursing, some work problems (I may have used some of my irl experiences in here, oops) Reader liking Romantasy books, but other than that, some hurt/comfort and lots of fluff!

A/N: I decided to leave it ambiguous if Reader is a student or not, so that is personally up to you. From @holdmytesseract's request for the birthday blurbs! Thanks for your patience!

Word Count: >2K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

If the past week was purgatory, then today was utter hell.

Everything in your life was driving you so busy, you felt both stasis and panic at once. You got so distracted that you would zone out on your phone closing and reopening the same apps for hours. Then at work, people were driving you up a wall. Because you were a good employee who had to get things done in the order and way they trained you or else…less got done. The impossibility of productivity crept on you. Minutes became hours. You had to argue with someone in a conversation that should have been four minutes but lasted eight because she would not shut up, kept repeating the same things over and over, would rarely let you speak and when you did, never replied or added onto your responses. On top of that, your body decided that the buttcrack dawn of morning when it was still dark was a good time to be awake. And impossible to drift back to sleep even when you took cold medicine. Which then made you exhausted at work.

Thank god for your professor boyfriend.

He was your light in the midst of all this. You had dated for some time, and even the sight of him putting on glasses in a nice suit as he headed off ofr work still made you tingly inside. He would leave you little gifts at your place- flower bouquets, cupcakes, and the like. You were at a point where you didn’t have to have romantic dates all the time. You were now just in his place. Just hanging out. Simple as that.

You could be quiet and not interact every second. As cats parallel played you could just be in comfortable silence together. Especially when it came reading- for you had something of a silent book club. You both turned off your phones and would sit devouring book after book.

He was a Literature professor, so it was in his nature. It seemed though sometimes he was never off the clock! He even challenged you- it was one thing that drew you to daring him. He was smart enough- he respected you as an intelligent being in your own right but was able to have questions and discussions. It was the academia in him. It made you grow into wanting to be a better person for him…and he for you.

Though today, your stress, anxiety, and semi insomnia was creeping up on you. You sat on the brown chair and he on his sofa. There was the same book in your hands. He was already rubbing a finger over his lips, pressing his glasses close. Enchanted by the spell words made. It was a well-reviewed piece of literature that won awards and was featured on the official lists of esteemed journals. He recommended this title to you and you were both reading it.

As you sat with your own copy that he leant you, you cracked open the stiff spine from it’s newness and began to read…

You were spacing out on the first chapter. It was dense, poetic, and beautiful….but you had no idea what the heck was going on.

After a few more pages, it was starting to get sad.

What was it with these books? And it was not cheery- Was high literature just sad things happening like people having affairs on their wives or committing abuse or doing drugs or going to war or just being awful with no repercussions?

With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a different book- an escapist, spicy romantasy that all the girls on social media were losing their minds over. You replaced the high literature book, setting it down quietly, and opened it. Tom was so engrossed in the book he didn’t notice. You didn’t want him to notice.

You found this time you were understanding the words in front of you. And you found yourself drawn. Was it the best piece of literature to be studied in a professors class in the future? Hell no. But you were here for a good time, not a long time. And not to study human nature deeply, but to be in a different world, where you had a different name, a different look, and different problems, but far more magical and exciting than everything crashing down in your dull, grey reality. One where your clothes were beautiful with corsets and fine fabric instead of just jeans. One where you would have a sword with a name then a smartphone that sucked all of your free time. One where you could be a princess, a queen, an assassin, a fae lady, a vampire, a pirate, a goddess, a duchess… anything other than plain old you in a plain old life at a plain old job.

Tom looked up. He then eyed over your cover and back at you.

You looked up at him and grimaced. Then you shoved the book back into your bag.

“Please! Don’t judge me!” you cried.

“Why would I judge you?” he asked.

You gestured over to the book in his hands.

“I’m reading this silly trash book and you have all of your fine literature!” you cried.

He set his own copy down, but his blue eyes softened.

“My dear…Is something up?” he asked.

He knew you well enough he could tell the signs.

“Yes, my day was hell! It was this and this and this and…I try to handle it but..I’m overwhelmed so I can’t…I really can’t…I’m not even smart enough to read this book, because I try and try but I just can’t understand this stuff and I can’t get into it, like you…I’m an idiot…”

You burst into tears, and he came over, hugging and kissing your head in little pecks.

“No…darling, no…” he murmured.

You leaned into his arms. You found yourself vneting and complaining the suffering long inside you.

“I know…I’m a mess…” you sobbed out. “And there was a lady at work who’s a bitch, and my job is so hard, and I can’t sleep at night…it’s just…I wish I could be smarter, nicer, better for you Tom, but…”

“How do you take tea?” he asked.

Looking up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve and answered him.

He made it for you the way you liked. It was the prettiest mug- white with bluebell flowers painted on it. And returned with it. You sipped at it, it was perfect in it’s flavor and so warm, you felt it melt inside you. You placed both hands around it- science said it was like receiving a hug. Feeling the warmth inside and outside as you looked up at him.

He scooted himself to be close, a gentle smile on his face and one of his large, beautiful hands rubbing your forearm in comfort.

“I know I’m a mess.” you said.

“I like you as a mess.”

You began to blink at him.

“No, I…but I’m…I’m trying, but I just…I know I complain and I read trashy books and I call people bitches and all that, you can say it, Tom. It’s the truth,” you replied.

“Set your drink down,” he requested.

You complied.

He cupped your face. A gasp aired itself in your throat.

“My dear, you are perfect as you are. A mess, broken, crying…and I want nothing else than to be with you.” he confessed.

You nearly dropped your jaw.

“That’s…a…you’re saying that…”

“Well…I…yes, I never thought I’d run into someone like you, who’d change everything. Why should I care if you feel upset sometimes like every human being or what you read to make you happy or that things aren’t always wonderful…I…I love you….there, I said it.”

Love. The little word that changed everything. And it was the first time he said it. It was…unspoken. Something you both felt for the long months you dated, but never confirmed. And here it was, materialized and as present as the furniture and mugs and books, for it was just as real.

“I love you too, Tom.”

You embraced him tight, and he embraced back. He then pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing hands.

He then let go, looking down at your mug.

“Here…your tea will get cold…” he said, offering the drink back to you.

“And…my book….” you murmured.

“Oh, I have no problems with you reading it with me! If it’s that good, I’ll make you another cup of tea and get us some biscuits as well! Then you must tell me all about it!” He gave a little laugh. “Who knows, I may even try it myself someday!”

Smiling with him, you gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then, you settled into cuddling him, sipping your tea and enjoying both of your books in a moment of pure bliss.

#carrie writes #professor! tom hiddleston #prof! tom x reader #prof! tom hiddleson x reader #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction fluff #professor fanfiction #prof! tom #prof! tom hiddles #professor! tom hiddleston x you #professor! tom hiddleston imagine #professor! tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #prof! tom my beloved

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yoonia · 1 year ago

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Mirrors: what becomes of us | jjk (m)

⤑ Summary | One year has passed, and the unmistakable fuzzy feelings that have nothing to do with lust continue to grow. Yet while he is able to look deep into your heart, he has yet to allow you to see what is hidden inside his. He still puts up a hard front, making you believe that standing by his side may not be as different than standing in front of fragile mirrors.

⤑ Title | Mirrors: what becomes of us ⤑ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader ⤑ Genre | Smut, Angst, Friends with benefits to lovers!au ⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; pwp (there’s a plot here if you squint), explicit sex scene, dom!Jungkook, brat!reader, partly clothed sex (oc will be wearing her shoes…again), dirty talk, mentions of deepthroating, praise kink, stripping, nudity, size kink, breast/nipple play, clit play, masturbation (mutual), oral sex (female receiving), grinding, face fucking/riding, minor ass play and ass kissing, cum eating, finger licking, mirror sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, orgasm control, orgasm denial, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, creampie, aftercare ⤑ Word count | 8,5k words

⤑ Story guide: Mirrors

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⤑ Author’s Note | Found this rough draft while I was moving Mirrors back to Wattpad after the site deleted the book version and decided to rewrite it so I can release it for Jungkook’s birthday. Well, let’s just pretend that I didn’t post this a week late lol. While this story is connected to Mirrors, this one-shot can be read as a standalone.

You can feel the heat of his gaze without having to take a look.

It is not too hard to notice it when he has been doing the same the entire night.

The dinner party that you attended with him earlier now seems like a distance away, with nothing left but flickering images of the people whose names you have already forgotten and fleeting, hazy moments of it left in your memory. Because all you could sense and focus on had been his presence, and nothing could draw you away from his unwavering attention that kept tethering you towards him for the rest of the evening.

Looking up at the full-body mirror in front of you, you keep your eyes on your own reflection instead of focusing on the dimly lit bedroom behind you, denying the urge to turn and find him in the darkness. Knowing that he has his eyes on you only makes you want to give him a show as you slowly strip down all the fancy jewelries that you wore for the night. Starting from the glowing earrings, doing it gently as you take off one piece and then the other, before reaching back to the clasp holding your necklace together.

Just then, Jungkook slowly appears from the shadows, taking his position right behind you with his eyes locked on the reflection of your face. You return his gaze through the mirror. The intense look coming through his eyes quickly makes your skin tingle and warm without him having to touch you.

“Allow me,” he gently says with the tip of his lips rising to a grin, and you lower your hand so he can unclasp your necklace for you. Like an expert, he does it so easily without looking away from your face. Yet he takes his time with it, as he takes this chance to touch you after having to keep his hands away from you all night long. He slowly drags his soft knuckles against the nape of your neck as he pulls the necklace off, drawing a shudder that comes out through your exhale of breath, before he finally places the necklace on your palm.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he suddenly says, and the first reaction that you can give him is a scoff, though you doubt that it can do much to hide the way his compliment warms your cheeks.

“Only tonight?” you ask to tease him.

“Hmm—” he hums softly as he watches you putting away your jewelries before taking a step closer, pressing his warmth against your back. His hands find your waist, while his eyes once again find your reflection in the mirror. He keeps his gaze on you as he leans down, the dark intention you see glowing through his eyes becomes an invisible restraint that keeps you from moving away as he gently presses his lips on your shoulder, staying just an inch away from the straps of your dress. “You’ve always captivated me, but seeing you tonight was exceptional.”

You look down to hide your bashful smile, though it is quite hard to even try to pretend as if your cheeks aren’t getting warmer when he already knows what his compliments would do to you. It isn’t rare for him to surprise you like this, either with his words or the things that he does which often catches you off guard. And he always loves the reactions that he manages to coax out of you through the things that he does to you, through his sweet words and, of course, what has often affected you the most, his sweet praises.

“Do you remember what we used to do in front of this mirror?” he whispers against your skin.

While the warm breath that falls on your skin already does wonders to your body, it is the memory that he is bringing back which makes you feel as if you have a thousand wings fluttering inside your belly. The sensation isn’t only giving you warmth blooming within, but also a desire so familiar, so dark, that your next exhale of breath feels heavy, weighted down by your sudden want that starts building inside.

One year ago, you stood by this same mirror, baring yourself to him. When you stripped down your coat and dress right in front of his eyes—and yourself, when he made you watch your own reflection—and you inadvertently bared not only your heart, but also your soul for him to finally have a good look at what your true desire was.

One year has passed, and here you are, still standing right beside him instead of running away, and he is still embracing you with the same touches, blessing you with the same kisses, with not a single sign of the passion that you shared diminishing with the passing time. Just like how you had expected it would have.

As if he knows where your mind is drifting away towards, Jungkook nips at the spot beneath your earlobe and whispers, “We had quite a lot of fun with this mirror, didn’t we?”

You meet his gaze through the mirror and return the sly smirk he is giving you with an incredulous laugh. “Fun, hmmm?” Your question fades to a sigh when he continues kissing your skin, slowly going up and down the side of your neck that you can barely think clearly beyond the sound of your pulsing blood. “I think,”—you sigh when a shudder runs through your body. “We may have to review your definition of ‘fun’.”

With a soft chuckle, Jungkook tightens his grip around your waist for a brief squeeze, before he slowly slides his hands to your front, stopping at your stomach where he gently presses you back to him. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy every second of it,” he whispers right as he captures your earlobe between his lips. “As far as I remember—” he stops briefly to press his lips against your pulse, making you gasp softly to the touch. “We both enjoyed our sweet moments using this mirror.”

There is a dark look twinkling in his eyes, and you can slowly tell where this is heading. That he has no qualms in taking you back to those moments when he first introduced you to one of his most wicked desires.

Even if you keep trying to deny it, you have to agree that you did enjoy everything from that fateful night. The mirror may have more to do than to simply show your reflections, as it helped reveal what your hearts had truly desired—both to you and Jungkook. Even now, you can clearly see the clear desire that Jungkook is currently feeling, as it is evident through his deep gaze, his shallow breaths that have been falling on your skin, and the drag in his touch, as he keeps moving his hands upward, leading towards the mounds of your breasts.

“Why don’t I help remind you of those fun times?” he murmurs against your skin, the last warning that he gives before his thumbs graze against the underside of your covered breasts, igniting the burning flame inside you. Your thin, silky dress and the delicate lace material of your bra can only do so little to prevent you from feeling the heat of his touch on your skin.

Your chest arches into his hands, and your head falls back as you gasp at the shudder that is now rushing through you. Through your hazy eyes, you meet his gaze through the mirror, seeing him licking his lips and his eyes darkening at the sight of you as you are embracing your desire. “Is that a yes?” he asks, while his fingers continue grazing up the mounds of your breasts, finding your covered nipples and rubbing against them until they grow hard under his touch. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Mmmh—yess!” your words erupt into a moan when Jungkook pinches at your nipples from over your dress, drawing out your cry when he continues by simultaneously rolling his fingers around them and pinching them. Your body jerks when the mix of pain and pleasure comes rushing all the way down, and you can feel your core pulsing with a new need that is demanding to be sated.

“Yes, Jungkook. Please—”

At the sound of your begging, Jungkook releases you and pulls his hands away. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face towards him. No more words are needed when he captures your lips, and you immediately melt into the kiss even before he begins devouring you. The kiss continues for a moment longer, just enough to help distract you from his wandering hands. While he slips one arm around your waist to press you back to his chest, his other hand moves upward, slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulder, taking one side off and then the other. The silky fabric falls and pools down around your feet once he pulls his arms away from you.

“Sneaky bastard,” you murmur against his lips once he pulls back from the kiss.

Clicking his tongue, Jungkook makes a disapproving noise as he whispers, “You have such a foul mouth.” He reaches up and runs his thumb across your lips, smearing the rest of your lipstick that still remains after his kiss. “Maybe I should teach you how to behave.”

You bite your bottom lip and flutter your eyes open for him, lowering your voice when you respond back to him with, “You never minded with my mouth when I was doing all the naughty things I did to you last night.”

A deep groan escapes from Jungkook when his mind wanders back to the night before, when you have your lips wrapped around his cock while you were on your knees for him, taking all of his length down your throat to bring him pleasure under his swift command. The way he responds to your teasing pleases you, yet you keep it to yourself, feigning innocence as you return his gaze.

“You’re being naughty tonight. But you’re lucky that I am in no mood to punish you for being a brat,” he murmurs. Jungkook pulls back and turns you back to face the mirror before you. His jaw is tense when he says, “I love seeing you like this. When you are stripped down and you look ready to be thoroughly fucked.”

A breathless laugh escapes you, though you cannot stop the flutter that you feel when you finally turn to look at your own reflection and see exactly what he is seeing from you—your makeup that is partly ruined with your lipstick smeared and lips swollen after sharing the kiss, your body that is partly exposed, with only a strapless bra and your lacy underwear left covering your skin, your dress that has been left as nothing but a heap of mess around your feet, and the pair of heels that he had told you not to take off until he tells you to.

Jungkook’s hands return to you. His fingers are tender as he reaches out to touch your waist, keeping you steady. “Let me see you take those lacy things off,” he says. His voice is stern, yet breathless at the same time, as if there is a wave of emotions engulfing him. You have doubts that it would be anything different to what you are feeling right now as you stand under his gaze. The same dark gaze that feels like invisible fingers tracing your skin as he runs it up and down your body.

Reaching back, you hold his gaze with your own through the mirror while you unclasp your bra. You hold it up with your palm, keeping it from falling and exposing your breasts a little too soon, and his knowing gaze flickers at your face. “Tease,” he murmurs, drawing a soft giggle out of you.

Finally, you drop the bra and your breasts come into view. His eyes are easily drawn to them, just like they always would when you are completely bare for him to see. Yet he still doesn’t miss a thing when you trail your hands lower, reaching down to the lacy panties that you still have on. By the time your fingers slide under the waistband of your undergarment, Jungkook reaches down to undo his belt. The two of you move simultaneously as you slide your panties down your hips, to your thighs, while he kicks off his shoes and socks and slowly begins taking off his pants, his boxers joining right after.

Once every piece of clothing is left piling on the floor, Jungkook steps out of the mess he created behind to reach out to you. His hands find your waist before he starts running them up and down your curves, doing his best to avoid the more sensitive parts of your body. Yet every part of you that is vacant of his touch still tingles. An instant craving to have his fingers touching them as well keeps building up. It grows just as strongly as your desire to reach out to him, to run your fingers down his hot skin that you get to see through his partly unbuttoned shirt and wrap your hand around his cock that has grown semi-hard, its tip pointing your way, like a promise for a good time that is so easy to reach.

It only takes one look into his eyes to know that he isn’t going to be giving it to you that easily. And he proves you right once again when a grin appears on his face, and the familiar twinkle that you would often see in his eyes whenever his wicked idea comes to him makes its appearance.

Jungkook steps back, his eyes remaining on your reflection as he pulls his hands away from your body. “Keep your eyes on the mirror and touch yourself. Show me everything you want me to do to you.”

He reaches up to continue unbuttoning his shirt while holding his gaze on you the entire time. Tension builds before your hands begin to move, rising steadily the more you get to see the lines of his chest as the shirt comes apart. The moment your fingers come up to brush against your breasts, desire ripples through you. If he cannot see it from the way your body tenses and your legs shift when the urge to press them together rises, he would be able to hear it through your sharp inhale of breath.

Stifling down the sounds threatening to come out of your throat, you look at him straight in the eyes and question him, “Like this? Is this what you want to see?”

Jungkook says nothing as she shrugs off his shirt, but his gaze says a lot more. The hunger in his eyes is palpable, growing darker and more intense as you start kneading your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently until you start feeling good. Every part of your bashfulness goes out the window when you feel pleasure. A soft moan slips from you when you move your thumbs, rolling them in circular motions around your nipples to draw the delicate shudders going down your spine. You keep your eyes on him, watching the way his chest trembles with each deep intake of breath he makes, and it is quick to help you recognise your own hunger that needs to be sated.

“Keep doing that, baby,” you hear him whispering to you while he seems to be lost in the sight of you pleasuring yourself. You are not even sure if he realises that he had spoken, judging from the way he remains still, transfixed with what he is seeing.

His gaze follows your hand as you move it down your torso. You are not even close to where the tingles in your body are building up the strongest, yet your legs are already shaking, your heartbeat keeps picking up, and you can feel the heat coiling inside you as you get closer to your pulsing core.

With his eyes remaining on you, it feels like everything just sparks violently the moment your fingers come touching at your folds. Spreading your legs, you give him a better view through the mirror as you part your slick folds, showing him your throbbing clit. Jungkook licks his lips, as if he is picturing himself touching you, tasting you, and the image appears in your head right then just before you move your fingers, rubbing your clit in a similar rhythm to the fingers that are moving around your nipple.

“Are you wet for me?” Jungkook says, his voice drips lower as he watches you stimulating yourself. He seems transfixed on you, that it almost seems like he is moving under a spell when his hand come down, engulfing the length of his cock which has been growing stiff while he continues watching you.

Knowing that he is just as affected to this moment as you are only elevates everything. Even his question sounds so sinful. Even if it wouldn’t be the first time that you’ve ever heard him asking about something so obscene, it still does the magic. Your eyes flutter to close as you rub against your clit, and your arousal seems to ooze right out of you with the shudder that comes from your touch.

“Yes,” you whisper with a soft moan escaping you. “I’m so wet, Jungkook.”

He takes a step closer, slowly, but not as slow as the drag of his palm along the length of his cock. Even with his eyes on you, Jungkook continues giving himself a few lazy strokes, then his other hand finds your waist to catch you from swaying. Lost in the pleasure you are giving yourself, and the heady sight of him stroking his hard cock, you don’t notice the way your body is swaying and trembling, slowly losing your balance. Until the touch of his hand on your skin helps you feel it.

“You want me to touch you,” he moves his hand from your waist, joining your hand as he cups the underside of your breast and roughly palms it while whispering, “here?”

The cry that slips out of your lips is the kind of sound that you can’t recognise as your own. How you manage to remain standing is beyond you, when it seems like there is a hot wave rushing inside you. Beneath you, your knees begin trembling, but you can hardly focus on it, when the pleasure continues rising, increasing faster when your joined hands are kneading firmly at your breast. You follow his gaze as he looks down, watching closely as you rub your fingers back and forth against your clit.

Dark lust fills his eyes, and it pushes you to give him more. Just as Jungkook’s fingers give your hardened nipple a tight pinch, you slide your fingers into your pussy, pushing into your walls. You can hear the sound of his breath getting caught in his chest, and you tease him with a soft voice,

“I…want you to touch me”—you gasp when your fingers hit right at your sweet spot—”here.”

You push your fingers deeper, drawing a shudder that he can clearly feel now that he has his hand on you. “Fuck,” his muted curse comes with a gasp. Pride overcomes you knowing that you are the reason for him to react this way. Except he gives you no time to revel in it, when he suddenly pulls you back. A gasp slips out of you when you are pressed back against his chest, his hard cock is pressing at your back, making you pulse from the inside when you can feel his thickness without having to see it, and the hand that he used to stroke himself comes down to your front.

You find it hard to look away from your own reflection, seeing with your own eyes the way your body is trembling in his hold. Your chest keeps rising and falling with ragged breaths, though it almost seems like you are pressing your breast further into his kneading palm. Instead of touching you right away, Jungkook grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand out of your pussy. Your fingers glisten with your arousal, and he brings them up to your lips.

“Taste them,” he whispers to you. And just like a spell, it drives your lust-driven mind to follow through, as you bring your fingers into your mouth and suck every single drop of your slickness right before his eyes. Moaning at your own taste, the heat inside you burns hotter, and his eyes seem to grow even darker with his hunger.

He reaches down between your legs, circling around your wet folds for a brief moment before making his way in to find your clit. He draws out a moan from you with his deft fingertips as he runs them through your wet slit, sweeping across your delicate skin, the slick sound of your dampness reaching to your ears as he keeps moving his fingers between your folds.

“Hmmm—you were right. You’re already so wet, just the way I like it,” he says with a hum in his voice, and it comes out so deep that you it vibrating all the way down to where he is now touching you. Jungkook presses his lips on the top of your head and briefly closes his eyes while he continues stroking your pussy. “Makes me want to taste you so bad,” he moans softly, and it almost draws a whimper through your lips when you can picture his mouth on you, tasting you. Suddenly, his eyes are opened, and his gaze turns dangerously dark when he smirks at you and says, “Good thing I skipped dessert earlier, because now I can take it properly and relish it as much as I can.”

Jungkook pulls out his hand at the sound of your gasp, though he doesn’t stay far. Because his hands are quick to find your waist, both still warm after being attached to your most sensitive spots, then he leans down. Once again, his lips find the spot where he can feel your pulse, and then he begins kissing your neck, making you tilt your head as you enjoy the soft shudders he is drawing out of you through his kisses.

As you begin to give in to the pleasure rising inside you, he continues to trail his lips all the way down from the back of your neck, your bare shoulders, and continues kissing his way down along your spine as he comes down to his knees. The press of his lips on your bottom cheeks brings heat to your face and your entire body. It feels scandalous when he continues kissing against the area that isn’t used to getting such attention. Even more so when his hands come up, palming your soft flesh while his lips continue trailing lower, and lower, hovering close to your tight and untouched rim, making you flinch when you are not ready to have him anywhere close to that specific spot.

But you quickly relax when he moves past it, barely grazing across the area that you have decidedly to be kept forbidden to finally come down to find your folds. His grip tightens, and he gently pushes your hips down to his face, angling you just enough so he can get some space where he can reach your pussy with his mouth and tongue.

A breathless cry comes out of your lips when he slides his tongue between your slit and his mouth comes to give your nether lips a deep kiss. Your hips come down to meet his face in return, almost grinding against his mouth so you can feel more, and that is exactly what he gives you when his tongue flicks against your hot entrance and the pleasant rush you have been searching for instantly surges through your body.

Your body begins to sway yet again with the overwhelming pleasure. Even your foot slips at the stroke of his tongue across your slit, but his hands give you a firm grip on your thighs to keep you from falling. “Take deep breaths, baby. Hold still,” he whispers, before he presses his open-mouthed kiss right at your pulsing pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan and curse as he begins licking your pussy, starting soft and slow, then gradually building up pressure and speed to draw more and more of the delightful spasms you feel pushing from your core. He twists his hands, sliding them into a position where he can press your bottom cheeks and open you up for him, allowing him to go deeper, to work his tongue and press his tender muscle into your pussy, then go around your clit while giving it a light suck.

Standing upright without anything to hold on to becomes extremely challenging when your body is trembling under a myriad of sensations he is giving you. Seeing him on his knees, with his face entirely buried between your legs, with the sight of his jaw and mouth working to devour your pussy only makes your mind swirl even faster. Your hands move, searching for something to hold, a leverage to keep you up. While one hand finds nothing but air to clench, the other flies to your back, finding his hair to clutch as your head falls back at the surging pleasure.

It doesn’t take long before your thighs start shaking, your pussy contracts violently to each work of his mouth and tongue, and your moans become louder at the approaching climax. You know that he can feel it when the coil inside you comes close to snapping, and just like that, he suddenly stops.

A desperate cry escapes you when he pulls back. After giving a few more kisses around your wet core, he trails his hot lips back up, across the soft skin of your bottom cheeks and up to your spine. He reaches up to pry your hand away from his hair, and brings your palm up for him to kiss. As he rises to his feet, he entwines his fingers with yours and slips his other arm around your waist to hold you still.

“Jungkook—”

“Hmm, are you mad at me? Did you think I’d let you cum without giving you permission first? Right after you used your foul mouth to talk back at me?” he asks you as he slides his hand back down. He easily finds your clit and starts rubbing against the ache in your pussy from being denied release. His touch brings the sparks of pleasure back alight and you slightly jerk against his hold. He gives your clit a sharp flick, drawing the sound of your cry, only to take away his touch from your heated center when you roll your hips.

“Not yet, baby. I want you to cum around my cock, and I want to be able to look at your face when you do,” he says, forcing you to open your eyes again when he runs his hand down your right thigh, giving it a grip as he gently lifts your leg up, exposing you both to his eyes and the mirror so you can see yourself.

Moving his other hand away from you, Jungkook reaches down and guides his cock into your sweet, throbbing pussy. A soft moan is drawn out of you when the tip of his cock is pressing against your hot entrance, yet he does nothing to push his way in until he has one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady, with the firm grip that he keeps on your right thigh holding you up and open for him.

You have never done this in such a challenging position, especially with your heels on which makes you feel off-balance. But before you have any chance to question it, Jungkook bucks his hips and slides his cock deep inside your pussy. Your walls throb around him to welcome him in, stretching around his girth as he slides deeper. A pulse engulfs him and Jungkook curses under his breath, yet it doesn’t stop him as he immediately begins to move. He starts thrusting in and out, taking it slow for a few more strokes until your muscles are no longer tense and straining against him, and only once both of your bodies are balanced enough—just enough to stop you from getting knocked down once his strokes grow stronger.

His thrusts are sloppy when he continues on, yet they gradually grow in speed and power that it feels like your entire world is being shaken. You almost feel like floating, with only his arm keeping you up and pressed against him, unable to escape or fall even when you are barely standing on the tip of your heel. Your hands find his forearm for the sake of having something to hold on to. Your nails sink into his skin when he keeps stroking deep and hard into your pussy, hitting all the pleasure spots inside that is pushing you so quickly towards the edge.

“Open your eyes,” he suddenly snaps. You don’t even realise that you have your eyes closed while you are revelling in the pleasure. Opening your eyes feels like a struggle, yet you manage. Through your bleary eyes, you find his gaze in the mirror, and that is before your gaze falls on the scene that he wants you to see.

What you get to see is the startling view of your body taking all of him in—how your body is trembling with each deep thrust he is giving you. You can see the blurry image of his cock sliding in and out of you so rapidly with each powerful thrust, while the muscles in his arms are flexing as he continues to lift your body and hold you up. His glorious tattoos seem to glow under the dim light as a thin layer of sweat appears on his skin. Looking down, there is the clear view of your pussy that seems wet, swollen on the folds, and is stretched apart to accommodate his size.

The wanton way you are taking his rough fucking seems enthralling, and it feels maddening just by watching you take everything he is giving you, while he too seems lost in his own pleasure, showing you that he feels good by sending you off to your own edge. That you are both in this together. The thought ignites the rush of pleasure that is coming to you in waves, one that he feels through the flutter of your muscles around his cock. You suck a deep breath, hoping that you can hold out just a bit longer, afraid that giving in too quickly before you are granted his permission would only grant you a punishment. The kind of punishment that he enjoys, and would only end with your pleasure.

Except that you want to have that pleasure in your body now.

Just when you half expect to hear him telling you to hold back, Jungkook surprises you when he commands you through his gritted teeth, “Play with your nipples. Make yourself cum for me.”

Your hands are shaking when you move them. As if they all have a mind of their own, they manage to find their destination even through the frantic motions, as one hand claims its spot on your breast, giving attention to the one that he wasn’t touching, while the other hand comes all the way down to find your clit, giving it a few gentle rubs that fall in the same rhythm of his thrusts.

Almost immediately, sparks light up beneath your eyelids, and your orgasm builds. It grows more and more until you start falling straight into it, though not before he snaps his final command, “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Cum for me.”

His words, his commanding voice, the deep gaze he is giving you through the mirror, the hard thrusts of his cock, and the press of your fingers on your throbbing clit—all of them come together to throw you over towards your climax. You cry out as the intense wave of your orgasm engulfs you, and it pushes him right over his own release. His eyes never leave yours as he tenses, his cock twitching inside you before you feel the warmth of his cum filling you up, almost sending you off to another climax.

Once the waves of pleasure begin to simmer down, your body slowly turns languid, almost pliant, barely hanging on with only your shaking leg and Jungkook’s arm holding you up. Your pussy throbs once, twice, almost rhythmically to the twitches that come from his softening cock, and Jungkook tightens his hold around you for a bit longer until everything winds down altogether.

It takes a while before you can start feeling things—anything other than the remaining spasms of your orgasm and the heat of his skin against yours—to be able to feel the warm, soft kisses that Jungkook is pressing on your neck and shoulder. The kisses help soothe you down from your high, coaxing you to relax in his arms, while he slowly lowers your leg and pulls out of you.

The move draws a gasp from your lips, when in the absence of his cock, your walls seem to contract against the void, and the liquid mixture of his cum and your essence drip down to your thighs and the floor beneath you.

“Seems like we made quite a mess,” Jungkook murmurs as he takes you in his arms, merely seconds before you would sway and fall, and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently and kisses your lips. It helps calm you down even more that you barely notice him taking your heels off and tossing them away. He seems hesitant when he draws back, and you almost pull him back to you when your body shivers, suddenly feeling cold without his warmth. But you stop yourself when he smiles and promises to you, “Stay here. I’ll be back to you soon.”

There is something in his words that weighs on you, and it leaves you in a haze as you watch him leave to the bathroom, returning with a wet towel that he uses to clean the mess coating your skin. His gaze softens as he dips the towel between your legs, across the inner side of your thighs, your overly sensitive pussy, before he cleans himself from his own mess. He rises from the bed and leans down to wipe the mess on the floor with the soiled towel, and for some reason, watching him do such a mundane thing captivates you.

You follow him with your gaze as Jungkook walks across the room in his naked glory. His bare ass and solid back steal your attention before he disappears in the bathroom once again. When you hear the sound of the running water from the washbasin, and the heat of passion cools down in his absence, your mind wanders.

Just like always, your thoughts would start circling through your head in the silence, with a dozen questions and wonderings filling your head as you start to look deeper into what has become of the two of you over the past year.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t been a conventional one since it first started. What started from a mutual arrangement that had existed without a full commitment, had then shifted into something else when both of your hearts started craving for more, and with courage, you both reached for it when the chance arrived.

Though things didn’t start as easily as it seemed, the one year you spent with him had allowed you to understand each other a bit more. You have known from the start just how bad the two of you are when it comes to expressing your feelings, but everything else had only started to come to the surface once you decided one morning that you weren’t going to leave the way you used to after spending the night with him.

At one point during the entire period of trying to see if things would work out between the two of you, you managed to find out just how terrible the two of you are when it comes to going on dates like regular couples do. Going out on dinners and then the movies hadn’t been so tasking back in the day, and you remember having fun on those kinds of dates before Jungkook came into the picture. Except that any innocent night that Jungkook had always planned out for the two of you had always turned cumbersome and—well, dry.

If it hadn’t been for the way those nights quickly escalated into something else—something more fun—perhaps you would have taken it as a sign that things were not working well between the two of you. Because everything else has been going well. The desire you have for each other has always been a dominant part in this situationship that has been going on between you, as it has always been stronger when you are together, enough to supersede any words that would be needed to express your yearning for one another when you could act on it.

It should have been enough for you to stop questioning what you have between you, or to have doubts that this will last. That you wouldn’t wake up one day to find him changing his mind and suddenly kicking you out the door. But that doubt still takes root within you, leading you to always anticipate the moment the rug would finally be pulled under your feet and you are forced to face reality where the two of you no longer exist together.

Because just like the mirror which had just become the silent witness of your wanton exchange of pleasure, what you currently have with him now seems so fragile. As if there is a chance that everything will slip right out of your hands once you are too complacent.

The bed dips, taking you away from your thoughts to see Jungkook climbing onto the bed right as he returns to you. He is hovering above you in no time, almost covering your body with the length of his. His warmth becomes a comforting blanket, even when his presence is driving your heartbeat to start racing.

You look at his face, and your breath stills. His immaculate hair has become a mess after fucking you to oblivion. He has been growing it quite a bit to a length, and that hair has fallen to frame his perfect face while he slowly moves to cover your body with his.

His hands sink into the sheets as he lowers himself, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that is soft and gentle that allows you to feel everything else that he is giving you. As if he is pouring his soul into the kiss, the same way he poured his desire into the intense lovemaking that has made your legs feel like jellos. The flapping wings in your chest linger as he pulls away from the kiss, though it is now mixed with anxiety when your mind still refuses to shut up with all the lingering doubts and the ceaseless questions.

“I can hear you thinking inside that pretty head of yours,” he murmurs against your lips, surprising you when he could easily guess what has been running through your head.

“That would be impossible, unless you can read my thoughts,” you reply to him once his lips rise from yours. You force a smile, but it falls short once you get to look up into his eyes. All of a sudden, you feel exposed under his gaze. Not only because of your complete bareness, but because he makes you feel as if he can look deeply into your soul. As if he is unraveling your secrets, layer by layer, until there is nothing left to hide the content of your heart.

The same way he made you feel a year ago when he called you after you ended everything and walked away.

“Even if I can’t hear it,” he starts, as he reaches up to brush a stray strand of hair that has gotten stuck on your cheek. “I can feel it coming out of you in waves. You’re practically trembling.”

A soft chuckle slips out of your lips. “Is that so?” Your question almost fades at the tip of your tongue when he takes the strand of hair and kisses it softly. He steals the rest of the words you are about to say when he tucks your hair back and grazes your lips with his thumb.

A worried look flickers through his gaze. Though it fades just as quickly it appears, and a small smile comes in its place while he is looking at you closely. His smile looks gentle and soft, tricking you into believing for a brief moment that he has nothing but sweet and innocent intention with his concern, until he suddenly questions you, “Was it not enough?”

“What—”

His question makes your heartbeat jump in your chest, and you find yourself wondering. What does he mean? What is he talking about? Is he asking if making you delirious by fucking you in the most outrageous way possible hadn’t been enough to satiate your need? Your lips tilt to a smile and you almost laugh at the thought of this, only to stop when you suddenly wonder if he truly had been reading your thoughts.

He couldn’t have possibly—

“Should I give you something else to shut that mind off and forget whatever it is that’s been troubling you?” he suddenly says, and your jaw almost drops open. As if he is seeing right through you, his words hit the mark perfectly.

With a knowing smile, as if he had gotten the answer he needed through your silence, Jungkook leans down and kisses the nape of your neck. He captures your lips next, giving you no chance to say anything at all. His kiss is deep, gentle and slow, but his tongue easily slips in to take control.

Everything that has cooled down now begins to heat up again. The invisible flutters in your chest arise, while a different kind of flutter sends your hips rising to meet his. You moan into the kiss when your folds brush against his cock, its girth nestling heavily against your center that you feel it when it slowly recovers. With each twitch you feel coming from his cock, it begins to grow hard and stiff, and Jungkook makes you feel it happening as he starts rocking his hips, grinding the length of his cock against your slit until you feel your dampness returns and builds.

He rocks once more with a groan rumbling from his chest, brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, and you give out a breathless cry when it sparks everything inside you alight.

“Answer me, baby,” Jungkook coaxes you, his voice nearly muffled by the sound of your pumping blood. “Tell me you want it. Let me silence your mind and take them all away.”

There is no need for you to question him, or for him to explain the implication of his words. You can see it when you look into his eyes, that what he wouldn’t be able to give you through his words, he would be giving them to you through his actions. Just like always.

“Yes,” you gasp out to him as you reach up, holding onto his shoulders as you look at him in the eyes to say, “Yes, I want it. Take me, please.”

Your answer draws a low groan coming out of him, and he continues stroking his cock between your legs a few more times before he pulls back. Using one hand, he aligns himself on your pussy, and within a blink of an eye, he sinks back into your slick, tight heat. Your body reacts with a jolt once he is buried deep in your pussy. Your walls contract around him violently for a brief moment, pressing around his length at the sudden penetration. Yet instead of causing you any discomfort, even when you are still sensitive from before, it just feels right. As if he truly belongs here, joined together with you.

Both of you tremble when the pleasure rises. Then Jungkook moves, going at it without taking his time or going slow and gentle. It feels mind-blowing the way he sparks the pleasure inside you. With the heels of your foot pressing onto his back, your hands begin to move everywhere. From clutching on his shoulders and biceps to hold on, up to his hair or cupping his cheeks, feeling the need to remain in contact with his body even while you are joined together.

Jungkook’s eyes have been fluttering close as he relishes in his own pleasure, but they snap open when he feels your nails sinking into his shoulders and your moan grows louder. He dips, drawing your lips into a kiss. The sounds of your moan and his deep groan are drowned as he sucks your tongue, while his pace remains steady, not once does he falter as he thrusts so deep you feel the entire bed rocking together with you.

He leaves your lips, kissing his way down your throat. When his hands move upward, cupping your rocking breasts, your head falls back. That is when you finally meet his gaze again, seeing the passion that is clearly shining through them as he gives attention to your breasts, palming at them and holding them up while your bodies rock together.

As he continues rocking his hips and thrusting into you, keeping it at a steady pace instead of rushing it, you realise his true intention. He isn’t simply fucking you to silence your mind. He is making love to you.

Your gazes are locked together when he lifts his head to look at you, and everything seems to fall into place with what you are reading through his dark eyes. You keep your eyes on him as you start returning his thrusts by rolling your hips against him. Each thrust feels enough to unravel you, while it slowly becomes his undoing.

His mouth returns to you, devouring you as you raise your hips, urging him to go deeper, harder, faster, because you are so close, already on the edge of unraveling completely into your climax. And he gives it to you, thrusting so deep inside you with hard strokes and increasing in speed while you hold on to him, your nails digging into his skin when your orgasm takes over. It comes barrelling down your spine as he takes you, slamming hard into your heat as pleasure erupts. You come with a sharp cry, and he roughly shouts when he joins you, falling into his own pleasure with a tremble rocking his whole body.

Your blood is still pumping wildly in your chest as the height of your climax slowly winds down. He is still twitching deep inside you as he presses his forehead on yours. Your chest rises and falls with your deep breaths, while his hands trigger the soft quivers in your body as he runs them down your torso to hold your waist.

Closing his eyes, Jungkook releases a deep, shuddering exhale of breath, while you feel heavy with sleep. Exhaustion rolls in once the remaining spasms of your release are fading. With the voices in your head silenced, drowned by the sound of your steady breathing and your racing heartbeat, all you want to do is to give in to slumber.

You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are heavy. You can’t even move as he pulls out of you, once again taking away the fullness and dragging out the essence of your lovemaking that floods out, making a pool of mess on the sheets beneath you. Your muscles feel like liquid. Your bones are soft. You fall easily into his embrace when he pulls you in his arms once he falls right beside you on the bed.

And you simply let him.

You let him because you need to be in his warmth, to feel the touch of his fingers that are soothing, helping you relax beyond the rush flowing in your blood. You keep your eyes closed, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his comforting embrace. Because not only did he manage to silence your thoughts, he has also helped replace the uneasiness with relief.

The feeling of relief which only strengthens itself when he kisses the top of your head and whispers, “Sleep. I’ll hold you and keep you warm so you can have a sweet dream.” His words bring back the flutter in your chest, then dampness fills your eyelids when he adds with a whisper, “I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

And just like that, you have gotten what you were hoping for. Because those words are enough.

He might not be able to say it out loud, but you realise now—as you lean into his embrace, welcoming the warmth that he is giving you while your body hums in contentment—that you may no longer need to hear it. Because you can feel it. You feel it through his touch, through the way your bodies seem to fold and melt into one as he presses you to his chest, and you can hear it through his promise.

When you open your eyes again to meet his gaze, you finally allow the walls inside you to crumble. You may have already fallen for him from the beginning, but only now do you finally have the courage to let yourself fall deeper instead of fighting it.

Even if the landing will be hard, and most possibly be painful, you are willing to take the chance anyway. You realise that you would endure anything for him. Because he is worth all the risk. Judging from the way he is looking at you now, with a gaze so deep that you almost feel like you are drowning in him, and the way he is holding you as if he wants to protect you from the world, he shows you that he thinks that you are worth the risk for him to take.

Thank you for reading!!!

#jungkook smut #k-vanity #bangtansorciere #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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nightshadeshadow123 · 8 months ago

Text

Sunshine is far away, rain clouds linger on

Based on the last episode of House Of The Dragon season 1. Just alternative ending to give it a happy ending, the new trailer have me feeling some kind of way when they found the remains of Arrax and Luke so wanted to write a comfort fic. Reader's dragon is roughly the same size as Caraxes in this. (Y/D/N) means your dragon's name. Got the title idea from @m3g555 book ideas on wattpad. If anyone knows where the gif of Rhaenyra and Daemon is from pls tell so I can give credits, Arrax one is from @lukearys

Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader x Daemon Targaryen (although he's only mentioned in this one) Long cringe fic tbh but my first time writing for HOTD. If anyone knows which dragon readers dragon is inspired from in the gif Ily.

You felt gut churning dread engulf you when seeing Aemond on the back of Vhagar taking off into the dark skies, gaining up on the smaller white figure of Arrax and Luke but this only spurred you to ran faster to get to your dragon, running through the mud and pelting rain while desperately calling out the name of your trusty dragon who let out a croon, wings and talons thundering as loud as the thunder in the unforgiving sky above as he made his way to you in a hurry to meet you half way when hearing the panic and urgency in your voice, his towering black and grey scaled body coming into view making you felt a bit relieved, grabbing onto one of his spines to clamber your way upon the saddle on his back all the while cussing the heavy furs you wore for the trip slowing you down by being soaked.

The way your heart was hammering in your chest made you flinch more that the harsh lightning booming above. Rarely did anything scare you like this, especially knowing that Aemond is out after Luke on his silly little revenge fit he's still in.

"Sōvegon!" You urged when you had the reigns in hand, knuckles turning whiter by the moment from both the cold of being soaked to the bone from the raging rain and from how tight you're gripping the reigns when (Y/D/N) took off with speed, immediately setting to follow behind Vhagar, strong wings flapping repeatedly to gain speed and find gait in the unforgiving storm that was strong enough to make even a dragon struggle to keep up, making you even more fearful for Lucerys and Arrax with their much smaller size that is already struggling.

The wind howling through your ears was as deafening as the thunder and rain that made your soaked hair stick to sides of your face, occasionally hearing the screeches of Arrax in a way to try be comforting to Lucerys and the flapping of Vhagar's strong wings and the low rumbling coming from (Y/D/N) until you lost sight on them from the dark skies and clouds.

Vhagar's shadow loomed above Arrax tauntingly, adding more dread as the lightning briefly casted over her form. Luke look up fearfully but was too late to see her as she disappeared into the clouds again, only hearing the flapping of her huge wings.

Your heart nearly jumped into your throat when Arrax suddenly swerved to the side and (Y/D/N) swerved the other way, narrowly avoiding Vhagar from colliding into you, a uncomfortable growl leaving him while you frantically looked around, trying to catch sight of the old beast after she disappeared into the dark clouds again, only seeing Arrax's figure being slightly illuminated by the lightning reflecting against his white scales and Luke on his back just as frantically looking around to every side, feeling slightly relieved when he caught sight of you not too far away from them.

It was proved difficult with the rain roughly pelting in your faces and the dark clouds to spot the other dragon, having to repeatedly blink to get the rain from obscuring your visions.

You felt uneasy when (Y/D/N) became tensed underneath you, the steam coming from his snout becoming more prominent to your eyes before hearing the flapping off Vhagar's wings until she broke from the clouds menacingly from your right, eyes widening when Vhagar snapped her jaws at Arrax before trying to grab the much smaller dragon with her claws that they managed to narrowly avoid by diving dowards with Vhagar still hot on their trail when diving behind them.

"Dive!" you instructed to your trusty dragon, holding on tighter on the reigns when he dove downwards through the pelting rain and the darkened clouds to the raging sea below, narrowly avoiding Vhagar's tail from knocking you both out of the sky when he got dangerously close to her but this only spurred the two of you to go faster to try and get her and Aemond's attention away from them, the adrenaline pumping through your veins feeling exhilarating despite the fear gripping your heart in a death hold, not the good kind in your opinion.

"Adhirikydho! pālegon!"(Quickly! Turn) You heard Luke yell to Arrax when the three of you came close to rock formations, sharply turning after spreading his wings, the wind catching in them as Vhagar and (Y/D/N) follow suit, the wind tugging your dragon's wings made you grip even tighter than you thought possible, you could feel the way your hands are hurting from the grip on the reins, biting your lip until you tasted the metallic taste of blood, pulling on the reins to make the unexpected turn, wanting this to end and to just get home safely with Luke, back to your beloveds and the kids and just to warm up and sleep for hours. This chase was taking toll on you fast so you can imagine how exhausted Luke and Arrax must feel. You swore if you could you'd slap Aemond so hard that his hair would cocoon around his head for seven days.

Feeling annoyed when hearing the amused laughter of Aemond despite the rain and wind, smile wiped from his face when Arrax took another turn and dove between a narrow gap between two formations, causing your dragon and his dragon having to quickly fly higher again on time to avoid smashing into solid rock. At this moment you felt a little more grateful for Arrax's smaller size, having the upper hand at better agility and speed and being able to fit through the narrow gap beneat you and Aemond's dragons, knowing full well that Vhagar wouldn't be able to fly through that even if it meant yours wouldn't either because of his size. He wasn't Vhagar's size but he was much bigger than Arrax.

The time it took for Vhagar to reach a safe altitude you've managed to fly up right next to them, seeing Aemond glace your way as you glared at him, amusement dancing in his eyes and smile, throwing his head back as he burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Ao own iā gēlȳn! valītsos!" (You own a debt! Boy!)He yelled, furiously looking down to try and spot the child and the young dragon who have vanished from sight, this had you feeling relieved.

"Debts be damned Aemond! Leave the child alone!" You felt the anger bubble inside of you once again. They were kids back then and he asked for it in the first place. Luke was only trying to defend his brothers and the accident caused Aemond one eye but he still gained Vhagar for that and it was years ago.

Aemond huffed out in annoyance, opening his mouth to respond back to you but at that moment you heard Lucerys panicked voice.

"Daor Arrax!" (No Arrax!)He yelled before a fireball unexpectedly got hurled in Vhagar's face as Arrax zipped past the two of you when Vhagar nearly jerked her head into your dragon, a growl leaving her while you flinched in suprise when (Y/D/N) jerked to the side.

"Daor! Arrax! Dohaeragon nyke!" (No Arrax! Serve me!) you heard Luke ordered in fear, pulling frantically on his reins, feeling scared when seeing Luke lose control over Arrax as they disappeared into the clouds and more terrified when Vhagar let out an angry screech and begin to set after the tiny dragon again but this time you've got (Y/D/N) into motion on time, following on Vhagar's heel as Aemond got fearful when he lost control of her too, trying to steer her back and yelling at her to stop.

"Vhagar! No!"

Lucerys felt slightly relieved when they broke through the clouds and found calmness and sunshine above the storm, feeling Arrax relaxing too while he scanned the place to try and catch sight of you or Aemond, heart still beating unsteady when he didn't find you next to him.

He went to call out but nearly screamed when Vhagar unexpectedly broke from the clouds very close to his right, jaws open as she came at them with lightning speed but was heavily startled and confused when a dark shadow whipped past them and crashed straight into the side of Vhagar's neck while Arrax let's out fearful screeches while flapping repeatedly to not get swooped into the mess, feeling Vhagar's hot breath against them briefly.

Lucerys felt a mix of relief when seeing it's you on your dragon who barreld into the side of Vhagar and saved him and Arrax from becoming a meal to Vhagar when he could make out your dragon's black scales and red eyes.

You had to grab onto one of (Y/D/N) neck spines to keep yourself from falling off of his back when he dugged his sharp talons and teeth into the side of Vhagar's neck with a ferocious force that sent the four of your tumbling back into the dark clouds beneath you with a surprised roar from Vhagar and Luke letting out a yell of fear as he watched you fall back into the raging storm below, fearing for the worst of you being hurt or worse.

You've always been like his second mother even before you were with his mother where you claimed the two of you were only 'friends' having known her and Alicent since childhood, and the two boys have know you since their birth when you've always been there and having sided with Rheanyra after the whole Alicent thing, and you, him and his brother always getting into random shenanigans with their mother having given up on scolding when you and her sons got in trouble or got a bit too carried away while Daemon were urging you on and occasionally getting caught up too in it when he got involved in the relationship. And the time you wanted to strangle Alicent when she made Rhaenyra walk up flights of stairs right after giving birth, if it weren't for Laenor stopping you and your worry to support her all the way up each step, having given Alicent the most poisonous glare while holding Rhaenyra and baby Joffrey close. You were there to help her look after Joffrey when he was still a baby after Harwin's death when Rheanyra took it hard even though you were hesitant when it came to babies and their amusement to find you asleep with the baby asleep on your chest or either wrapped up in a blanket in your arms with you under your dragon's wing while you spoke with the dragon softly as to not disturb the sleeping baby. It was no different when baby Aegon and Viserys were born after the union with Daemon, it was hard to keep up with seven kids with Daemon's twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena, included from his previous marriage but those two were able to keep you atleast a bit sane since they were less unruly and always eager to help you and Rhaenyra around. And sword training with him, Daemon and Jacaerys and teaching them about the dragons as they grew up with their dragons by their side.

He smiled when remembering a few moons(months) ago how you nearly fainted when Rhaenyra told you she's pregnant and there is yet again a new addition on the way and how pale your face have gotten, eyes wide and Jacaerys having gotten worried along with Rhaenyra as she went to your side to make certain you start breathing again after the news, fussing over you despite all the amusement at your surprise, while Daemon were snickering in the corner along with Baela and Rhaena giggling. But during the pregnancy you were tailing behind her, constantly fussing over her, pulling out chairs for her and letting her rest while helping Daemon and the maids with Aegon and Viserys, refusing to let her do anything that could strain her too much and making sure she's eating healthy all the while glaring daggers at Daemon from his teasing but you made sure to get back at him.

You felt even more disheveled from all the clashing when Vhagar finally backed down, hovering heavily in front of you, Aemond looking to be in a heaving state too, for once looking shamefull when looking back at you, breathing heavily.

"That was very idiotic of you to chase a damn child on a much smaller and less experienced dragon on a freaking war dragon Aemond!" Your voice sounded as alarming as the thunder as you hissed the words at him like poison, a burning fury behind your eyes.

"I...I..I'm so sorry (Y/N)." He spoke hesitantly, trying his best to not look away in his nervous state as your words got to him, reality finally seeping in as adrenaline began to slowly wear off.

"You could have killed them Aemond. What were you thinking?"

"I lost control over Vhagar. I just wanted to scare him and..."He mumbled before trailing off, shame in his voice at having to admit that. His mother certainly would have been greatly disappointed if she witnessed this as much as his father who never really gave him the attention he needed, only having ever noticed his mistakes.

Your heart were still beating like crazy in your chest, thudding through your ears as you took in his words, trying to calm your breathing, feeling concerned at the bleeding wounds from Vhagar's claws on (Y/D/N)'s side from when she grabbed onto him to throw him to escape his jaws on her. There were scars on Vhagar you felt guilty about too that had to be caused to get them away from Luke and Arrax but it was necessary.

You wanted to scold him more but only opted to rub at your soaked temple, willing your mind to just be calm, half understanding where Aemond is coming from but still dissapointed, mostly in the lack of guidance he had from his parents for he doesn't know that dragons can't be controlled as freely as he thought and that they aren't slaves and that they'll still lash out if they so desire. You admired Viserys when he was still alive because he was Rhaenyra's father and Daemon's brother but he could have made more effort with his children he had with Alicent.

"Just go home Aemond, you got lucky this time because if anything have happened to Luke I swear to the old gods and new gods you'd have had Daemon, Rhaenyra and me coming after you." You finally said after a few moments, pushing the hair sticking to your face from the rain still pelting on you both, grimacing at how heavy your limbs felt to even move anymore at this point.

Aemond looked as if he wanted to say something more for a moment but chose to remain silent, before setting Vhagar back into motion in the other direction, glancing back at you briefly before you too set (Y/D/N) into motion to find Luke again after seeing Aemond and Vhagar dissapear further into the storm.

Luke made Arrax glide through the air slowly, circling two times while his eyes scanned the clouds beneath frantically, the coil in his stomach tightening when he saw no sign of any movement that could be you, contemplating if he should leave or dive back into the storm to try and see if he could find any sight of you, wondering how he was gonna break the news to his mother and father if you are dead or hurt.

They wouldn't take this well at all that was for certain. He himself was beginning to the tear up when the adrenaline wore down, the situation finally settling in as he wiped furiously at the tears forming in his eyes, hearing Arrax croon slightly below when sensing the heartbreak of his young ride through their bond.

It was a few moments longer when they heard flapping of wings again, immediately alert and tense as Luke scanned below them, scared of it being Aemond and Vhagar, ready to finish them off too but the two calmed slightly when hearing the familiar rumble of (Y/D/N) before the two of you broke through the clouds, gliding up next to them.

"You're alive!" Lucerys yelled happily, a tired but gleeful smile on his face when seeing the two of you, eyes lingering on the blood and wounds on (Y/D/N)'s side as you shot him a just as exhausted but comforting smile, both of you looking worse for wear after the intensity of the situation.

"Of course kid. I'm too hard to get rid of that easily much like Daemon." You shrugged playfully, laughing softly when Luke laughed, humming in agreement to your words, while the two of you set back home, trying your best to take deep breaths to calm your raging heart that was still beating like the wings of a hummingbird in your chest, trying process everything that just happened in this short time. How did a simple trip not that far away from home turn into this?

"I won't disagree with that."

You were grateful you went along with Lucerys on the trip to Storm's End to try and get Lord Borros Baratheon to support Rhaenyra when you saw how nervous the child were despite trying his best to mask it for his mother's sake. If you weren't here to have helped you grimace thinking of what could have happened.

It was quite for a few moments with you keeping a close eye on Luke and Arrax and occasionally patting at your dragon's neck in comfort and gratitude while worried about his wounds, hearing him crooning lowly in response to ease your worries.

"What happend back there?" Luke decided to ask, glancing your way curiously, eyes full of questions and curiosity.

Shrugging slightly you swiped the sticky hair from your face again, eyes trained foward in the sky before giving him attention.

"We've managed to get Vhagar to back down. She didn't take to that too kindly as you can see with the wounds. They are both okay and left after Aemond got her back in control." You explained, exhaustion heavily in your voice.

Lucerys gave you a shy smile after another few moments passed.

"Thank you for helping us back there. That was really brave of you for risking your life to do that."

You returned the smile, waving him off while looking out into the skies, feeling calmer and happier when seeing the familiar place you call home finally appearing in your sight.

"Luke, it was nothing big. You know very well I won't let anything hurt you nor your siblings and mother and father either and won't hesitate doing whatever it takes to keep you all safe. And the real brave one here is really you and Arrax. You'll make a mighty fine Lord of Driftmark one day." You told him sincerely, smiling at the child as he tried to hide his embarrassment at your words, urging (Y/D/N) to go faster when Arrax picked up speed towards Dragonstone with an excited screech, just as eager as all of you to get home to your lovers, eat and melt into their arms and rest.

Soon enough you landed next to Arrax and Luke after the people scattered out of the way with murmurs and awe, sliding off of (Y/D/N)'s back, gently patting his side as he nudged your side before Luke ran up to you and throw himself against you in a tight hug, nearly sending the two of you stumbling to the hard ground but you returned the hug, gently ruffling his already messy hair after wrapping an arm around his smaller form until you heard the sounds of people's murmurs again, and looked up to see the various people of Dragonstone and royal guards watching you all curiously, some greeting you both before two dragon keepers rushed over to take the reigns of your dragons to tend to (Y/D/N) wounds and let the two dragons get rest after proper care.

You looked up in the sky when a shadow casted over the ground, seeing Daemon's dragon Caraxes flying about in the cloudy sky, and spotting Syrax resting on the grassy field in the distance, her yellow scales shimmering under the few sun rays peeking through the clouds causing a small smile to tug at your lips at seeing your lovers dragons so peaceful despite still being worried about (Y/D/N) wounds.

You followed behind Lucerys as he began walking to the towering keep tiredly, body sore, fighting the urge to close your eyes, your whole body felt so heavy and exhausted and you just wanted to sink into a warm bath and just get in bed and fall asleep in your lovers arms.

"I'm so sleeping four days straight. Jace and father can forget about training for the next few days." You lowly hummed in agreement as the guards pushed open the heavy doors, letting you and Luke through as you nodded your head in gratitude at them, running a hand through your hair, huffing at the tangled mess it was from the rain and bizzare events from earlier. Storm's End definitely lived up to it's name.

"Agreed kid. Not even Balerion himself would be able to drag me out of bed."

You spotted one of the guard standing at his post, deciding to ask him where Rheanyra and Daemon is.

"My lady. Price Lucerys, welcome back. Queen Rhaenyra is in the meeting room." He said and you give a smile in thanks to him before walking to the room with Luke following behind, fingers trailing the rough stone walls of the dark building.

You soon reached the meeting room where Rhaenyra, one of your beloved's is, seeing her talking with a few council members, all the talking halting as soon as your arrived and one of the door guards announced your arrival, all eyes on you making you feel a little uncomfortable but keeping your head high as your eyes met with her dazzling voilet eyes, resisting the urge to just rush over to her and embrace her tightly and just melt into her comforting arms.

She could immediately sense the exhaustion from you and her son, and that something bad must have happend as if your rough and tattered appearanced weren't a dead give away, she quickly dismissed the council and guards before hastily making her way towards you when you relaxed, guard slipping down the moment her soft comforting hand cupped your cheek and her familiar .eyes scanned your face before landing on Lucerys, questions and concern swirling behind her eyes at the appearance you both were in.

"What happend?" The question made you feel tired all over again as the memories replayed through your head like a mantra, your lips pulling into a tight lipped smile, blinking a few times to clear your head, mentally preparing yourself.

"The pirate-eyed Targaryen and his demented bald granny dragon happend." You could hear Luke trying to keep his snort in from your name for Aemond and his dragon, biting his lip to try and contain his smile as he nudged into your as Rhaenyra looked confused for a moment before realization hit her at who you meant, face paling despite wanting to smile lightly at the words that left your mouth, eyes more alert while scanning the two of you, relaxing when your hand brushed against her swollen stomach, her hand landing on top of yours as you made eye contact again, giving her a assuring smile despite your heart raising as the memory flashed vividly through your mind.

"That's quite a story but yeah, Aemond was there before us, already having gotten the Baratheon's on their side. He saw Lucerys and just lost his mind, wanting to take out his eye as pay back for his and by the time a raging storm have started, we were leaving but Aemond chased after Luke even when he ran to his dragon despite the guards trying to stop him when I told Luke to run." You could feel the anger from Rhaenyra as she worriedly grabbed his hand with her free hand as he stood closer to your side but she could sense there were more to the story.

"And this ended up getting worse because Aemond was dead set on getting to Luke, he chased behind him and Arrax in the raging storm, I felt so terrified of anything bad happening and I got on (Y/D/N) and followed behind them to try get their attention away from them. He kept taunting Lucerys and Vhagar tried a few times to bite at them and she nearly did when Aemond lost control over her when Arrax shot a fireball at her when feeling threatened." The more you spoke the more you could see Rhaenyra getting worried and angry, pulling the child into her side protectively, her fingers running through his hair as he hugged her, being careful over her pregnant stomach while you intertwined your hand with her other one this time, bringing it your mouth and kissing it gently, letting your lips linger on the soft skin, knowing this helps her calm down.

Stressing weren't good for the baby and you were determined to keep her calm despite the grim reality of the story you have to tell her.

"Mother, she and (Y/D/N) managed to dive in on time to stop anything bad from happening but (Y/D/N) got hurt by Vhagar and I was so scared when I didn't see them for awhile but we're all safe now! They were really brave." Lucerys spoke up admiration making you chuckle as she smiled gently at your son.

"Is that so? I don't doubt that because they both have always been brave." She moved her hand to his cheek fondly as he nodded eagerly.

"My love the real brave one was all Lucerys and Arrax." You spoke with smile, patting him on the shoulder before ruffling his hair causing you and his mother to laugh he huffed in embarrassment from your words, trying to play it cool as he tried fixing his unruly hair, failing miserably and only making it look worse.

After the laughing died down she pulled both of you into a group hug, holding onto both of you tightly when a tear slipped from her eye, feeling beyond relieved that the two of you got home safely but still feeling the underlying madness at Aemond's pettiness and how he could have gotten either one or both of you killed.

You happily melted into her warm hug, face nuzzling into her platinum locks while you felt her comforting scent wash over you, grounding you and serving as a solid reminder that you're both home and safe where you all belonged.

Daemon would certainly handle this news way worse with his short temper but it's a good thing you and her are there to stop him from doing something bad. He would no doubt jump on Caraxes and burn down King's Landing if given reason enough.

Reluctantly pulling away from the hug, Rhaenyra kissed your cheek gently before turning to Luke.

"Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you and get dressed in comfortable clothes then come down for a meal, the cooks have been preparing your favorite." You watched the interaction with a fond smile, heart melting at the two as he lightened up at her words before rushing out of the room and down the halls after closing the doors.

You walked over to her, hugging her from behind while your hands landed on her stomach, rubbing softly as she leant back against you, a content smile when you planted kisses against her neck then cheek, resting your head on her shoulder and just gently swinging her from side to side, closing your eyes and taking in her scent when her hand landed on the back of your head and the other one on top of yours, squeezing gently.

"Thank you so much for keeping Lucerys safe even if you risked your own life." You heard her murmur, hearing the way her voice caught in her throat as tears threatened to spill but you hummed in a comforting way, hugging her tighter.

"My love, there is no need to thank me for that. I'd do it again in a heartbeat to keep you, our sons and big family safe and would gladly give up my own life if I have to to ensure your all safe and protected." You told her with emotion bleeding through every word, feeling at ease when she gently squeezed your arm.

"Nyke gīmigon ñuha sīmontan. Nyke'll gaomagon keskydoso syt jemome tolī." (I know my rose. I'll do the same for all of you too) You melted at her endearing name for you and her words and how her voice have that calming effect on you when speaking in high Valyrian. You could just drift off on her like this if you could and stay in this moment forever.

"Where is Daemon? I saw Caraxes earlier when we got here but no sign of him when entering the keep." You questioned softly, your head still on her shoulder and lips grazing her cheek in a soft kiss as she hummed with a grin, leaning her head to connect her lips with yours once again in a slow but gentle kiss that lasted a few seconds.

"He's probably still outside with the royal blacksmith. He said he wanted to get something made for little Visenya for when she's born." You softly made a sound of acknowledgement, remembering when he asked you on some advice between choosing what to have made for the baby.

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments longer before she pulled away, gently grabbing both your hands and leaning in to kiss you yet again, smiling into the kiss and causing you to tiredly grin when meeting with her voilet eyes, sparks flaring between your gaze after pulling away from the kiss.

"You're beauty never fail to amaze me." You mumbled with a dreamy voice making her cheeks turn slightly red while she laughed shyly, the sound making your grin grow even bigger by the moment.

"Come my beloved, let's go get a bath prepared for you and then join Lucerys, Joffrey, Baela and Rhaena for a meal then get rest. I'll let one of the guard's call for Daemon and fetch Viserys and Aegon. They've all been eager to see you again." She pulled you to the doors and towards your shared room as you nodded, allowing her to pull you along as her hand gripped yours like her life depended on it, too scared to let go for even a moment and eager to spend time with you, Daemon and the kids and already plotting on how to make Aemond wish he weren't born. She can only silently pray that Jace returns safely too.

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