#The Third Princess from the Rumors

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Catnip for Heros

Danny Fenton gains a particular reputation in Amity Park for being a "Catnip for Heros."

It started in Freshman year. Phantom was seen coming and going from his house at odd times. It wasn't a very well-kept secret- neighbors would see the glowing teenager in broad daylight.

The ghost hunters who owned the house were the only people unaware of the ghost flying out of the third window on the second floor—Danny's bedroom. At first, they thought it was a one-time thing.

Maybe the ghost wanted to have a little bit of fun now that he was stationed back in the human world? Fenton was rather good-looking when he cleaned up and could be charming when he wasn't dodging his responsibilities.

The A-listers started a rumor that Danny Fenton was relatively easy if all it took was Phantom saving him once. Still, the rumor never gained traction since Fenton seemed flustered at the most minor compliments. Instead, he seemed to jump out of his skin whenever anyone hinted of being interested in him- romantically or friends with benefits.

Never mind when his nighttime rendezvous with Phantom was brought up. Boy looked mortified to have it even suggested, as in burst into tears right then and there.

Even the A-listers weren't that mean. (Some think it was more due to their respect for Phantom than anything.)

Then Fenton was spotted flying on the hoverboard of Red Huntress, clinging to her like a damsel in distress. It would have been a simple rescue that the hero was known for doing, except she often carried him about without a ghost.

It became customary to hear her board humming through the air, Fenton either holding tight to her suffering stance or being carried in her strong arms. As usual, Red Huntress's face was completely covered, but her body language was open and friendly, curved toward Fenton as if he were the sun to her flower.

Red Huntress slowly but surely became more visible in public sight. Unlike Phantom, she normal vanished as soon as a fight was done. People speculated that she was human, but no one could prove it.

Once Dash Baxter was able to film Fenton literally kicking his feet and giggling as Red Huntress hovered in the air, one arm under his knees and the other on his back in a classic princess carry. She had bought him a street hot dog, and Fenton was acting like it was an engagement ring.

The video spread like wildfire through Casper High, and soon, people whispered that Fenton and Phantom had ended. Then two days later, a new video of Phantom flying out of Fenton's room at two in the morning was passed along by two jocks that had been out doing an extreme workout run through the city.

Students of Casper High wondered if Fenton was daring enough to two-time the town heroes. Wes put a stop to the accusations when he flagged down Huntress and asked her about Fenton's relationship with Phantom.

Of course, Wes meant that Fenton and Phantom were the same person (he was crazy like that), but everyone knew it was more about possible cheating. She shattered the thought with, "Phantom and I share Fenton," and flew away, leaving everyone with their jaws dropping.

However, what got Fenton his nickname was the day the Justice League arrived to ask Phantom for help against an invading paranormal force. It was a whole, saving the world; you're our last hope scenario.

People in Amity watched the battle updates from various news outlets. It seemed a bit touch and go for a while, but thankfully, Phantom and Batman could pull through and push back the undead. The streets of the small town flooded with cheering citizens who were overjoyed their town hero did it.

Red Huntress even flew over the city throwing "Phantom #1" foam fingers. It was cute how excited she was for her boyfriend. Fenton was notably absent during that time, but she said it was fine, so people let it go.

It put Amity Park on the map. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know about Phantom and his exploits. News crews, reporters, and even celebrity gossip rags were scouting the tiny town, looking for anything on Phantom besides "He's really old. Really powerful. Dead."

One Jimmy Olsen managed to get the most giant scoop of Earth's newest and hottest hero. It was of Phantom, leaning awfully close to a flustered-looking Fenton. One tilt of his head and their two lips would have been brushing.

Olsen took the shot, forgetting about his flash, and watched Phantom fade out of sight. Fenton looked horrified and raced away before Olsen could ask him questions.

Undeterred, Olsen spent a whole day searching for Fenton and nearly gave up until he happened to find the teenager in the local park, sitting on Red Robins's lap as the hero played with his hair. Shocked, Olsen snapped the photo, watching the two for a while, getting more and more footage. They fed each other ice cream at one point and raced back to the hotel to show Lois.

She excitably jumped on the idea of a plain civilian boy with heroes, especially after some digging showed his connection to Phantom and Red Huntress.

They decided they needed proof before pitching the idea back home, and Fenton was caught in similar positions with Orphan, Superboy (the clone on Red Robin's team), Inpulse, Blue Beatle (the younger new one), and Supergirl. All in a month.

"He's really going through them, huh?" Olsen muttered while the story was posted. The header read, "Danny Fenton: Teenage heartthrob that is Catnip for Heros!"

It's an overnight hit sensation.

Miles away, hiding his face in his hands, is Danny Fenton, surrounded by all the young heroes laughing so hard a few nearly break a rib.

"My Obsession is Protection and Love. It's not my fault I need cuddles from those I care about to function!" The teen cries after reading the somewhat scandalous article and pictures of himself.

"We know Danny," Tim assures him, tucking the boy under his chin. "Getting high off of love is a medical condition."

"Wait, does he actually get high?" Kara asks. "I thought he was just getting giggly 'cause he's cute like that."

"Nope. The emotion humans- and Kryptonians, I guess- release when love- any form of it- causes Danny to get high. Blown pupils. Seeing streaks of lights. Laughing silly. The whole sha-bang." Kon laughs, reaching out to pat Danny's shoulder. The teenager half-buried his face more in his hands with a muffled cry. "He once got so high after Bruce told him how proud he was of him that he created a duplicate and had a staring contest with it to see who had the right to the last bag of chips."

Jaime holds up the tablet, pointing to a photo. "It's the one that started this whole catnip thing. Also, how honored I am to be included in the harem? My popularity had never been higher."

"Stop!" Danny cries. This isn't funny. How am I supposed to protect my secret identity when the whole world thinks I'm "Making my way through all the young heroes?"

"You could marry me," Bart offers. "No one will expect you to run off with a speedster ironically."

"You have to go through Bruce first," Tim tells him; though there is a smile on his face, his eyes are ice cold. "And the rest of my family. Danny is destined to be a Wayne."

"Bruce can't adopt me; I have parents."

"I meant marry in love."

"Tim, now is not the time to state a claim." Kara sighs and then narrows her eyes. "Danny is going to marry into the El family."

"Not if we Allens have anything to say about it!"Bart shouts.

Kon and Jaime watch as Danny slips to the floor a smile slowly blooming on his face as various heroes start yelling at each other. "Should we tell them he's getting high right now or-?"

"Nah, it's fine."

[nalyniavadelletargaryen]

[ HOTD - Greif-striken Aegon ]

Summary: At the Queen Dowager's request, you take on the role of Jaehaera’s primary caregiver but bear the burden of catching the King’s eye.

Warnings: canon Aegon + dubcon / noncon + mentions of death + slight angst + hurt/comfort + smut

Grief-stricken Aegon is surprised to see you playing with his daughter in the garden, temporarily distracted from his anger by a curiosity about you. Jaehaera sits on your lap as you play with her, keeping her happy and your focus solely on her. Although the King doesn’t recognize you, he hesitates before approaching you, his anger turning into interest when you smile at him. You had been warned by his mother to be cautious of him, given the grief in the castle after the loss of the young prince. Despite your reservations, you decide to be kind and give Aegon the benefit of the doubt as you respectfully acknowledge him and then return your attention to Jaehera.

Grief-stricken Aegon leaves you with his daughter, slipping back into a quiet rage as the sight of her reminds him of Jaehaerys. You cradle the young girl close as her father stalks down the stone halls. Sighing in relief, you watch his silver locks disappear around a corner, completely relaxing when Jaehrra smiles. In a month, she had grown attached to you, mistakenly calling you 'mama' once or twice, but you always managed to correct her. Although your heart fluttered at her recognition, you knew very well that her birth mother, Queen Helena, needed no more strife and that prying ears would quickly spread the rumor of her quick attachment to you. When it happened a third time, you corrected Jaehaera as always, cheeks warm with gratitude. However, your decision remained firm. Unfortunately, you were not quick enough to hush her with a gentle reprimand, and Sir Larys overheard the young princess's adoration for you as he passed by the library where you read to her before supper. He wasted little time using the new revelation to his advantage. He tells the King of Jaehera's love for you, explaining it as a harmless but vaguely dangerous trust shift. Aegon feeds into his observation with contained interest.

Grief-stricken Aegon, overcome with sorrow, sends for you the following evening, calling you to the council room after a long day of war planning. You come at his command after putting Jahera to bed and bidding the Queen goodnight. You take your time to reach him, rightfully afraid of the man you've heard raging about the castle in a constant state of vengeance. You're particularly fearful of your growing desire to feel his pain somehow. Jaehaera is the sweet and well-mannered maiden child, much like her mother, and you can only begin to imagine how lovely her brother had been. You know well that pitying their father shouldn't be your prominent state of mind, but having a tender heart makes it devastatingly hard not to. So, you heed his call, entering the council room and standing at the doors with your head held preemptively low. You greet him quietly, withholding the tremor in your tone as you try to steel yourself against his scrutinizing stare.

Grief-stricken Aegon was far from displeased by the sight of you. Since he briefly saw you in the Keep's courtyard, hed been considering many details and assets you possessed. You appeared pious, gentle, and careful in how you presented yourself. You held the traits he knew his mother had explicitly sought: modesty and fairness. Aegon assumed you were a young lady, yet how you carried yourself made him believe you had surpassed his sister's maturity. He took note of the seven-pointed star necklace you kept clasped around your neck; the gold jewelry glinted on your bare skin, bringing out the light colors of the dresses you wore. You never bared green, a minuscule detail that pleased him. The influence of his family hadn’t reached you, and it was an odd relief. You had no allegiance to an agenda, were content with your role, and were not invested in the schemes around him. In his eyes, you were perfect, pure, and identical to the maiden herself.

Greif-stricken Aegon doesn’t confess his sins to you, though. You were never bringing to light the thoughts he’s had about you. The very sound of your voice started his descent into obsession. Hearing you sing soothing lullabies to Jaehaera, seeing you cradle her close, watching you praise her most minor achievements drove his mind to places it’d refrained from going after the death of his son. Motherly. You are sound of mind and careful with the last of his children. You embodied what his dear sister's wife couldn’t: motherhood. It drove Aegon mad in the dead night, his chambers filled with the sound of his moans as he fisted his cock to the very thought of you.

Greif-stricken Aegon refrains from forcing himself on you the first night you visit him, choosing to pry into your life with direct questions and bittersweet compliments for most of the exchange. You’re relieved to experience his generally pleasant side, amused by the scathing jokes he tells between conversations, and pleased to make him smile with your witty remarks. Your walls of caution break down little by little as he invites your company, letting you recount stories of impractical adventures with his daughter and surprisingly invested in hearing them. You ramble a bit, unsure how to feel about his direct attention and nervous to speak so casually to the King himself. Aegon reassures you that your talkative nature is anything but frustrating, reaching out to lift your chin and graze the warm skin of your cheeks with his fingertips. Your dormant blush brightens when he smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your parted lips tenderly before you can stop him. You had no intention of kissing him back, utterly shocked he'd even be so bold with you, to begin with, but he refused to let you shy away from him. One kiss spiraled into several, every one messier than the last, and your head spinning as the lingering bitterness of wine on his tongue soaked into yours. Aegon pressed for more when you pulled away to breathe. It was all too much, and you rushed to excuse yourself and leave him for the night. He didn't stop you, loving the sight of fear and excitement consuming your tender exterior at his will.

Greif-stricken Aegon calls on you often after that evening. He is no longer satisfied with pleasing himself alone. Aegon is reckless with his dependence on you, not caring that you put up a fight every time, trying to reason with him as he buries his cock in your fluttering walls. You scratch, cry, and beg. Doing and saying anything for the slightest chance of mercy, but Aegon spares you none. He forces pleasure into your veins, slaving away in your cunt night after night and committed to coating your untouched womb with his seed. You feel trapped in the cycle he starts, fulfilling your duties by day and spreading your legs for him at night. It tore you to pieces that your body ached for him constantly, the very shape of cock engraved into you, the space between your thighs undeniably drenched hours before he had you entrapped in his embrace. It’s distracting. He is distracting, and it's no help that he begins to spend more time with his daughter to spend even more with you. Aegon’s hands constantly wander where they shouldn’t, tracing your curves over the binds of your dress as you tend to Jaehaera, and it takes all of your will not to run from him. He feeds on your unease, your breaths slower, eyes fixed in the distance, and the apple of your cheeks turning red. He tells you to settle down, focus on your duties, and disregard his lingering presence, and by the gods grace, you can do just that. It’s a relief that his mother, grandsire, or anyone of consequence steals him away. You say nothing to keep him at your side, missing the feeling of his hands, the sound of his voice, and the air of control he envelopes you in, but joyous to be free of him. You can focus. You can calm the heat in your core.

Greif-striken Aegon takes no issue with keeping you in his bed for hours on end, marveling at the sight of you falling apart on his cock, begging for more of it as your legs shake from another high. You’ve given up on running, on reasoning, on being moderately intelligent, enduring the deep thrusts and mind-numbing pace he sets in thinly veiled excitement. There’s no point of hiding uit any longer, no viable way of convincing him you don’t want him to take you. Its your obligation to please him, to be that perfect little mistress, to give his lonely daughter a new playmate is it not? So, you resort to embracing his attention - as unforgiving and possessive as it may be.

Grief-stricken Aegon doesn’t ask your permission to release inside of you, forcing his seed as deep as possible, holding you down in a vice grip anytime you attempt to writhe away. It’s warm, thick, and filling. You’ve only tried to bathe once after hours of him bedding you, and he was furious. From then on, Aegon denied you the choice of washing the evidence of his claim on you away and commanding you to let his seed leak from between your thighs for a minimum of a fortnight. Appalled and rightfully defiant to the idea, you first threatened to confess to his mother about your shared deeds, but Aegon taunted you. He knew you’d rather suffer his stipulation than endure the wrath of Queen Alicent’s modesty. “Tell her and see what becomes of you..” he seethes into your ear, hand tangled in your fallen hair to keep you bent over the edge of his bed, snapping his hips harder against you when a half-hearted cry falls from your lips. You won't tell her. You can't even begin to think of unburdening yourself without acknowledging the joy you took in being used for his pleasure. Even now, as your essence dripped down your inner thighs, coating his cock with every unforgiving movement he made, you simply gave in to sin. His sin.

Grief-stricken Aegon is unsurprised when he notices signs that you are carrying his child. You become emotionally and physically sensitive. You continue caring for Jaehera while trying to hide your changing demeanor, keeping it a secret. However, Aegon cannot help but stay close to you and treats you as if you're made from glass with little regard for those who notice him showing you favor, which draws the interest of his council members—especially his ever-vigilant mother. Days pass before the maester leaves tea for you. On the night Queen Alicent visits your chambers, she expresses disappointment and scolds you for being careless. You hesitate to follow the Dowager Queen's advice, refusing to drink the remedy left for you and crying the entire night after she takes her leave.

Greif-stricken Aegon hears of your pregnancy the day after, ever so gleeful to endure his mother's berating and nowhere near ashamed of what he's done to you. He tells you it won't be the last time you carry his child, sitting you on his lap in the privacy of his chambers as the day comes to an end, and you haven't the emotional strength to keep fighting him. What's done is done, and you have no heart for ridding yourself of his so-called ‘gift.’ It's sick and twisted, but you've fallen into the headspace he's wanted for so long. A willing servant, one dedicated to her role in his domain of power, and one who will bear as many children as he desires.

What more could a lovely, loyal girl like you ask for?

A/N: Why is it so hard to write smut for this man?! It's usually so easy, but now I'm struggling. It's unfair because I have a lot of great ideas…

{ BONUS CONTENT + }

Credits to the creator 💚 He owns 85% of the space in my gallery app. I'm obsessed, and it shows…

[trashmouth-richie]

✿ 𝒈𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆

✿eddie x female reader

✿triggers: 18+ smut, oral, female receiving, allusions of sex, mentions of not using a condom, a little hint of ass eating

✿summary: literally no plot, sorry. 

✿800 words

Bumblebees. 

The watercolor print made a delicate pattern of the little creature along the eggshell cotton of your sundress. 

The dress which was once pretty and brand new was now hiked up to your ribs, the delicate fabric wet, crushed between your front teeth. 

His mouth was stained with your cum the same way your dress had been painted in the tacky milk of his. Eddie muttered nonsense into your puffy lips, lapping his tongue like a hurricane against you. His rings bit into your hips as he held you in place. 

“You taste like honey, princess.” 

He groaned into the apex of your thighs, running his nose along your sex, devouring your scent, every inch of the dripping wetness from you. 

Butterfly shy moans spilled over your lips as you came again, and again. The rumors of Eddie “Twister Tongue” Munson were true, but you never expected it to be that true, but time and time and time again, it somehow was better than the last time. 

He was a legend, a God amongst men. His venom tongue piercings buzzed in harmony against his tongue, pooling spit and sliding against your clit with each flick he teased. 

You cried out as you came a third time, his bangs between your fingers as you pulled and yanked and ground your hips up to meet his mouth. His groans vibrated between your legs when you squeezed him in place, riding out your high.

“Shit, that’s a first for me,” he panted when you finally released him and he collapsed beside you on the laid out blanket and spilled bottles of beer. 

Your eyes were still closed, reveling in the lingering tingle of goosebumped and sweat slicked skin. “Hm?”

Eddie wasn’t shy, always spoke whatever was on his mind and didn’t care if it bothered anyone. 

He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag speaking before he exhaled, “I came while eating you out.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, embarrassment but he leans on an elbow and looks down the slope of his nose, “it just means I liked it, and you taste really fucking good.” 

Eddie flicks his tongue and you laugh, shoving his shoulder and sitting up, almost light headed from the earth shattering orgasms—plural because jesus take the fucking wheel his tongue was better than heaven itself.

You tried to stand but Eddie pulled you back into him by your waist, “you’re gonna want to sit a while, get some strength back in those legs,” he said, squeezing the pad of fat on your inner thighs as he adjusted his legs around you. 

He pulled another drag through his lips and blew the smoke past your shoulder, dimples dipped into his cheeks, and you relaxed against his chest.

“Was this the good seat you were talking about?” 

Eddie blanched, remembering that the seat he was talking about was his face. “Nah, this one is better.” 

The sun dipped on the horizon, casting the Indiana sky into blushing shades of peaches and cream. He had another cigarette as you relaxed into him fully, running your fingers against the veins protruding from his skin, tracing the lines of his tattoos. 

You felt good against him, you always did. Smelling like apples and cinnamon, the sweetness of pie still on his lips. The moon cast her pretty face into the sky before he decided that it was time to get you home before your roommate wondered if the freak had kidnapped you, again. 

“One of these days,” Eddie said, moving your dress strap back into place on your shoulder, “we should go on a real date.” 

You look at him incredulously, “a date? Isn’t that against one of your rules? No dates, no calling, no condoms?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged looking at you with those baby doll eyes, “but, there’s something you haven’t let me taste yet…and I wanna know if it’s as sweet as that pussy is.”

[shan-yee]

𝘍𝘦𝘺𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘹 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘰𝘶𝘴!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ๏𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 = 5897 ๏𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 = fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, marquing + blood, breeding, talk of pregnancy ? I think that it’s all. ๏𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 = When Lady Margot is called to seduce the Na-baron Feyd-Rautha, the first daughter of the emperor Shaddam IV must accompany her in case things do not go as planned and indeed, things do not go as planned. ๏𝙰/𝙽 = Damn. IT TOOK ME 6 DAYS TO WRITE THIS SHIT !? I really hope that it was worth it :’) Also, did I wrote Feyd correctly ? ๏𝙰/𝙽 2 = I would like to point out that English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake please tell me ! And I don’t know why but i couldn’t find the account of the last two person i taged, so i don’t know if they received it ٩( ᐛ )و

——— 🅃🄰🄶🄻🄸🅂🅃 • • •

@the-dark-dreamer25 @alexandrainlove @void21 @luxiniary szapizzapanda tom-pls-fuck-me

—Princess, the Reverend Mother wishes to see you. Announced the guard, head bowed.

The man was new, and certainly he had heard many rumors about Princess [Y/N], first daughter of Emperor Shaddam. Earlier, when he was ordered to go get the princess, he noticed the smirks of his comrades and their whispers.

But it was sure that when he opened the large doors of the royal bedroom he did not expect to find his princess and three men, probably soldiers, naked. Two watched a young man with blond hair sneak between the legs of the [H/C] haired girl. He held her thighs apart but raised his head when he heard the doors open, a shiny substance running down his lips and chin, a substance that he quickly licked while looking up at his lover.

The princess clearly seemed unhappy and even less sexually satisfied, but seeing the guard's eyes open wide and his inability to look at them a slight smirk appeared on her lips. The fingers of her right hand tenderly caressed the hair of the young man as her other hand touched affectionately the jaw of another man, leaving the third man frustrated and begging for affection from his lady.

—What does that old witch want ? she finally asked.

—I-I don’t know your highness…He shudder, his gaze moving to the side, towards a wall of the large bedroom.

Suddenly, the young woman's fingers closed in the blond's hair between her thighs, who emitted a slight grunt of pain and surprise.

—Not only do you not look your princess in the eyes when you speak to her, but you are not even capable of giving her an answer.

The terrified young man could do nothing but get on his knees, begging her to spare him. In a split second all the pleasure and excitement she felt had dissolved, the crazy old woman had the talent of interrupting her at the worst moments. Knowing very well that the reverent mother would never leave her alone, she got up, grabbed a bathrobe that was on the floor before leaning over the three men, sitting quietly on her bed, to kiss their lips, one at a time.

—I’m sorry my pretty pets, wait for me. She whispered, looking affectionately at them and the three men nodded happily.

Taking one last look at her lovers [Y/N] walked out of the large bedroom, stepping on the left hand of the guard, still on the ground. He only got up after she left the room to close the doors and follow his princess, watching one last time as the three soldiers lay on the bed and talked, as naked as the day they were born, waiting patiently for the return of their beloved mistress.

The princess' footsteps echoed on the concrete slabs leading to a small open veranda, the sun was beating down on her face and the cotton of the bathrobe was starting to stick to her skin making her movements unpleasant, which had the effect of annoying her even more.

—Reverend Mother, sister…Lady Margot. She greeted, once she reached the veranda, where the three women were sitting around a cup of tea.

The mother Mohiam looked up at the young woman to greet her but changed her mind when she saw her outfit, she slowly shook her head bringing her tase to her lips. Irulan's cheeks tinged with pink, pink with shame, and she couldn't help but glance at the oldest woman.

—What indecency. This outfit is not worthy of a woman of your rank, you shame the order by showing yourself in this way.

Hands on her hips [Y/N] lowered her head to observe her outfit, her bathrobe was slightly open at her chest but she had worn much more vulgar, with a sigh of boredom she sat down at a corner of the square table, Irulan to her right and Lady Margot, who still had not spoken, to her left.

One thigh on top of the other and her upper body relaxed against her chair, she looked like anything but a high-ranking woman.

—Stop your reprimands and spill the beans. The [H/C] haired woman grumbled, which earned her a look of disapproval from her sister and a warning from the reverent mother, a raised eyebrow.

—Hold your tongue young woman. A deep aura laced the old woman's voice.

[Y/N] just crossed her arms across her chest, showing her displeasure, you had to be stupid but above all suicidal to contradict or defy the Bene Gesserit, the princess was neither of the two. Lady Margot put her cup down after finishing her tea, making the three women around her turn their heads and the blonde smiled graciously at them.

—We have a request for you princess, one that, I am sure, will satisfy you. Informed the countess.

The young adult arched an eyebrow while staring at her elder, then a curious smile appeared on her lips and her companions quickly understood that she was suddenly interested in the conversation.

—Well, you have my full attention.

—Baron Vladimir Harkonnen is hosting a grand banquet in honor of his nephew, Na-baron Feyd-Rautha.

—I don't see how this concerns me. Interrupted [Y/N] not seeing the point of this conversation.

Lady Margot cleared her throat with a soft sneer before glancing at the reverent mother who took over.

—You will accompany Lady Margot to Giedi Prime. We need to find out if this young man is controllable.

—I still don't see why I should get involved in your stories. Your plan failed, Lady Jessica was supposed to be on your side and you were supposed to have control over her and her son. She accentuated all the “you”s with a mocking look.

—Sister ! Exclaimed Irulan, red with shame.

—We are Bene Gesserit, everything has always been under our control and that will not change today. If the great houses learn what your father has commissioned, he will lose the throne and you, your comfort. This mission is important and you must play your role without whining for once. Mohiam finally ordered, silencing the two sisters.

She knew that the Reverent Mother was right, if the rumor of what her father had done got around, then that would be the end. She wasn't ready to give up her luxury and wealthy life because of a brat and her father's lust for power. Silence reigned for a few moments before the eldest princess spoke again.

—Feyd-Rautha…a mad man I think I heard during conversations. What do I have to gain from it ?

—We heard that the Na-baron had practices...somewhat similar to yours, if you know what I mean. If everything does not go as planned, you will have the right to interfere and “take advantage”. Replied Lady Margot.

The young woman thought about it for a moment. The few things she had heard about the baron's nephew never painted him in a good light, but it was true that she had heard of his sexual appetite. Only she wasn't sure if she would have the opportunity to taste it, but just to be able to finally admire the young man, she accepted.

—Can I bring my pet-

Her question was interrupted by a nudge from Irulan, who couldn't stand her jokes, although this time, it wasn't a joke.

The journey to Giedi Prime was done in silence, Lady Margot and [Y/N] weren't really the best of friends. The countess was much too simple and calm for the princess. Their characters were diametrically opposed, yet they could still talk to each other without it turning into a bloodbath.

Only, right now, the youngest was angry at her elder's privilege. [Y/N] was just a backup if their mission didn't go as planned and the Na-baron didn't find anything interesting in Lady Margot. But if, indeed, he was interested in the blonde, [Y/N] would have left her pets for nothing, a reality that did not please her at all.

Arriving at the Harkonnens, they were welcomed by the Baron and his oldest nephew, Rabban. This particularly irritated the princess who took Feyd's non-presence as an affront, after all, she was of imperial blood.

Without really paying attention to the Baron, she was accompanied to her quarters which were in a different place from those of her companion, because of their difference in rank, which did not displease the princess.

Later she learned that the Na-baron had not appeared before them since he was preparing for the hundredth fight, a spectacle apparently eagerly awaited by the inhabitants of Giedi Prime.

Later she learned that the Na-baron had not appeared before them since he was preparing for the hundredth fight, a spectacle apparently eagerly awaited by the inhabitants of Giedi Prime.

dressed in her most beautiful dress and her most sumptuous jewelry, she intended to overshadow Lady Margot, decided not to have come to this planet for nothing.

The black sun was beating down on everyone and it was clearly not missed by [Y/N] who was fed up with Kaitan's constant sun. She was patiently awaiting the arrival of Feyd-Rautha, Lady Margot at her side who also seemed excited although she hid it with her calm and reserved air.

Bene Gesserit sisters joined them but the princess ignored them, much more interested in the still empty arena than in their conversation, which she did not even listen to with one ear. Her fingers played with the chain of her gold necklace, trying to occupy herself with something when the Na-baron finally entered.

[Y/N] wanting to get a good view of the young man leaning forward while slightly getting up from her seat, she brought her binoculars to her eyes and a satisfied smile appeared on her lips. The young woman was generally not very picky when it came to men, although she always had certain criteria.

And this man, he ticked all her criteria. His milky skin made the princess want to sink her teeth into it, to stain it scarlet, but above all, mark it. She wanted to take his jaw between her fingers and force him to look at her, touch his defined lips and kiss his throat, maybe even run her tongue across it.

When the Harkonnen knelt for his uncle, [Y/N] began to wish he had knelt in front of her instead. That he pledge allegiance to her and agree to be hers, to belong to her and her alone.

A rush of excitement filled her as she let out a chuckle that did not go unnoticed by the Bene Gesserit. After seeing him it was clear that she was not going to let the Countess steal him from her, he looked much too appetizing.

Throughout his fight [Y/N] watched his body move and his muscles shifting under his armor, his movements were sharp but controlled, good news for her. Her skin shived as she already imagined all the things she could do to him or he could do to her. Time passed far too quickly for the princess's liking and when he won his hundredth fight she forced herself to sit and applaud him calmly, not wanting him to notice her euphoria.

The same evening it was planned that Lady Margot would go and court him, the young woman then decided that he was going to be hers no matter what the order wanted. Since she was very young, Mother Mohiam had taught her the art of being a Bene Gesserit. Unfortunately, as a teenager, lust overcame her desire to learn more.

She still listened during her lessons but the order and their prophecies no longer interested her as much as before. Only, as an imperial princess, she had never been able to stop them. Today she was very happy with it.

Manipulation and persuasion via The voice were part of the teachings of the Bene Gesserit. It had taken her several years to perfect her learning, compared to her younger sister who was obviously a prodigy and had quickly made up for the extra years that [Y/N] had.

At seven p.m. the great banquet in honor of Feyd-Rautha began and the young woman was finally introduced to the Na-baron. She took advantage of this opportunity to once again contemplate Feyd attentively, she didn't even bother to hide her excitement this time.

Her eyes wandered over his jawline which she loved to admire so much, she could already imagine her hands gently grasping it before caressing his cheekbones with the tips of her thumbs. She dove into his electric blue eyes and for a moment she had the impression of losing herself in their depth, this sensation made her shudder with desire but above all with apprehension, she had never felt such attraction before, even with her favorite lovers.

His lack of eyebrows and hair did not repel her, she, who loved pulling her partners' locks. But the idea of squeezing his neck to force him to look at her only made her even more excited. Finally her mouth curved into a mischievous smile.

Next to his uncle, Feyd then placed one knee on the ground, right hand on his heart, and his cold fingers grabbed the young woman's hand to place a kiss on it. She felt her skin warm up tenderly while the young man's lips were anything but warm, and this coldness made her body shudder and her lower stomach tighten.

He left his lips on her skin slightly longer than acceptable and raised an amused but also penetrating gaze, as if he knew what she was thinking. And at that moment many things were stirring in her mind. By kneeling in this way, he was submitting to her. And having a man with such a reputation as Feyd-Rautha give up his dominance was thrilling.

She even came to wish that he had knelt in front of her under different circumstances.... With a discreet gesture she passed her thumb over the Harkonnen's lower lip, testing its softness. This didn't seem to bother him since he closed his eyes as he felt her finger move, then, a grin appeared on those said lips, letting her see the black-tinted teeth she had perceive during his fight.

After these few seconds, maybe a minute and a half at most, he stood up, his arms crossed behind his back. This moment didn't last long but she had the impression of staying in this position for hours.

Baron Vladimir looked at them discreetly but said nothing, anyway, if something happened between them it would benefit the Harkonnens. Having ties with the imperial family, such close ties, could be decisive.

Dinner went very well, although the princess couldn't help but stare at the Na-baron most of the time. But it didn't seem to bother him that much, most of the time he even stared back, their intense staring game had left [Y/N] finishing the meal with her thighs tight and slightly sweating.

When everyone had to excuse themselves to go get ready for the fireworks. The young woman turned one last time, while holding her dress so she could walk in her heels, to look at the Harkonnen and her lips parted to let out the whisper of a sentence that only he could hear.

« Come to me. »

Then, she smiled brightly at him as Feyd's pupils dilated, for a moment everything around him disappeared and only her voice reached him.

Surely he should have ignored it, continue his life with his dear concubines and enjoy the huge party that was going to take place in his honor. Only, something inside him screamed at him to go after her and obey her. Obey all her requests, no matter what they are.

And now he found himself in front of the princess's quarters, dressed in black, which made his milky skin stand out.

He went inside, then closed the door behind him, not bothering to knock, after all he was at home. Once in the guest room he looked for the young woman, passing over the large bed in front of him and the few supplies placed everywhere, but he did not find her, for a moment he really thought that she was making fun of him and that irritated him to the highest point.

But the same voice that had ordered him to go find her rang through the air again, making him hold his head for a moment, clearly not used to the tricks of the Bene Gesserit.

« Here. Come meet me. »

Feyd then turned his head trying to find the source of this mystical voice and he saw a gray door, just like the walls of the room, slightly half-open. He took a slight breath, not out of fear but rather apprehension, he wondered how he was going to find her. Naked ? Dressed in a sensual outfit ? Maybe she was even making fun of him and playing hide and seak ?

In any case, he stomped forward while tilting his head in curiosity. With the back of his hand, he pushed the door open and stopped at the doorstep. He found a large bathroom, a shower side to properly remove dirt and a bath side, with a large bathtub.

He found [Y/N] there. Arms hanging outside the bathtub, legs crossed and raised, revealing her knees as well as her feet. She looked at him with a petty grin that made him feel warm, maybe he really liked submission.

« Kneel, beside me. »

And for the third time that evening, his actions were directed by this woman. In other circumstances he would have slit her throat and fed her to his darlings. But the lump in his throat and the heat he felt in his body were far from unpleasant, he craved her and all the things she wanted to do to him.

Then he knelt down beside her and observed her attentively. The curve of her throat and her neckline covered in warm, transparent droplets. Too busy observing her body, he did not notice her hand coming to rest on his cheek until her warm skin came in contact against the coldness of his.

He then relives their proximity from a few hours ago, when she had caressed his lip. Only this time, he felt the humidity of her palm, humidity which made his skin shiny in addition to its whiteness.

—I wanted you the moment I saw you. The [H/C] haired woman whispered, so as not to break the bubble of sensuality that had formed between them.

—Did you, woman. He replied, his hoarse voice cutting through the air.

She didn't like this tone and took it as a challenge. Her hand on his cheek stopped it’s caresses and came to firmly grip his jaw as she frown, her gaze hard.

—You should be grateful, that I, the first imperial princess, has taken a liking to you. She replied in a stern tone that matched her expression.

Feyd held her gaze, his eyes wandering over her angry face, he definitely liked her tone a lot. A shiver of excitement ran through his body, his breathing starting to get heavy.

[Y/N] didn't take long to understand that this situation excited him more than anything else and ended up getting up after releasing the young man. She got out of the bathtub without giving him a glance before retrieving a bathrobe which she wrapped around herself after drying herself slightly.

Then she turned towards the Na-baron who did not move, only turned his head to spy on her. He quickly understood that she wanted him to move and stood up to follow her as she returned to the large bedroom.

The princess took a cup and filled it with water before sitting on the bed, bringing the cup to her lips while looking at him.

—Take off your clothes.

This time she didn't use The voice, she understood that he would listen to her no matter what she said, so what was the point of wasting her energy on these sleight of hand tricks ? Feyd nodded and slowly started to remove his clothes.

The Bene Gesserit stared at his movements, she watched the muscles in his arms move as he removed his bottoms and unbuttoned his black top. She then let out a slight sigh of pleasure, his body was magnificent to look at but surely even more so to touch. Only, she wanted to make him boil.

That he begged her to touch him everywhere and as she wanted. However, her determination didn't last long when she saw the defined bulge he had in his underwear. And seeing her hastily swallowing her saliva, he grinned, like a mischievous little child.

Regaining control of the situation he approached her, then once at her level he undid her bathrobe before throwing it a little further when she did not push him away. On his knees once again, but between her thighs this time, he gently spread them, letting his icy fingers climb over them. While following the movements that her chest was making as it rose.

Because once he was on the ground, the young woman's breathing had taken off and her skin suddenly heated up. Her lower abdomen tightened with apprehension as she saw him getting closer and closer to her crotch.

Letting him do so, she leaned back slightly, grasping the sheets between her fingers nervously, while closing her eyes. She had never felt something so strong and yet she was well accustomed to sex and many unspeakable sexual practices.

Only this time it was different. He was something that didn't belong to her, something she wasn't supposed to touch or approach unless she was beckoned. And yet she had braved this prohibition and done the complete opposite of what she had been asked.

He represented dangerousness, sensuality but also a forbidden fruit, and right now, she wanted to sink her teeth into this fruit, devour it raw but above all savor it.

[Y/N] was quickly brought back to earth by feeling the warm muscle of her lover. In surprise her abdominal muscles contracted and she let out whine, her thighs instinctively tightened around his head.

She was going to loosen them immediately but Feyd held them back, his hands holding tightly the plump of her thighs so that she wouldn't move them. His throat let out a low moan of pleasure, he wasn't suffocating, but having her thighs around him gave him a new feeling of closeness.

Watching him do it, the young woman finally decided to relax and calm her breathing as best she could. Her body fell against the soft mattress before her eyes closed again, taking advantage of the only source of warmth Feyd possessed.

Usually the Harkonnen was not the type of man to kneel for a woman, his concubines always cared for him and only his pleasure. The only times he touched them was to inflict pain that gave him satisfaction.

But now that he had tasted the princess he couldn't live without it and his only goal was to make her scream. The smell of the young woman became intoxicating, a drug which he, from now on, could no longer do without.

His tongue tried to catch as much of her transparent and succulent nectar as possible, wandering into every nook and cranny of her soaked slit. Quickly one of his hands left her thighs and came to join his tongue, the contrast between his cold fingers and his hot muscle made the body of the [H/C] haired woman tremble.

Her lips parted as she gasped, her back arching and her brows furrowed for the second time, she definitely couldn't get used to his coldness, even less when he touched such a sensitive area of her body.

Feyd moved away from her swollen lips for a few seconds, moistening his fingers with saliva before going to collect some of her juices, humidifying them enough so that he could slide them slowly inside her. He watches his fingers dig in before looking up at her, his lips red and wet as was his chin which was glistening slightly.

She felt dizzy with arouse, her limbs trembling under the emotion and the touch of the Harkonnen between her thighs, his fingers inside her only dived her into pleasure and passion. Finally she dared to look down at him, meeting his greedy gaze.

He smirked at her. She wanted to hit him, not liking his superior air, surely he felt proud to have put her in one hell of a state. Only, her body was much too heavy for her to do anything to him and anyway, even if she wouldn't admit it to herself, she liked the way he made her feel.

Finally he began to move his fingers, withdrawing them slightly before pushing them back in with urgency, as if he immediately wanted to find the warmth of her inner walls which tightened around his middle and ring fingers.

—Is it to your liking imperial princess ? He teased, loving to see her lose her cool because of his movements.

His spike had the effect of a slap and she stood up suddenly, grabbing his wrist to stop his back and forth movements. He admired her chest rising and falling as she tried to regain calm breathing and the light beads of sweat running down her face and neckline.

—Look at you, drenched in sweat even though you haven’t done anything. He chuckled, deciding to ignore her warning look.

Apparently she didn't like his teasing at all as her hand circled around his throat, squeezing it slightly as he groaned quietly, the corners of his lips curling up, at least he would have had control for a little while.

—Know your place. She panted, gradually regaining her breathing.

He finally opened his eyes, which he had closed when he felt her squeeze his throat a little more, enjoying the intoxicating sensation of suffocation. She brought her face closer to his and the young man's orbs flickered from her gaze to her lips, a sudden urge to kiss her taking him in the gut.

And if she had noticed it she made no comment, forcing him to stand up by pulling his throat forward. He then found himself on his back, on the black silk sheets, his lover on top of him. He stared at her inner thighs, where he could see her wetness running lightly down them.

[Y/N] leaned over his throat which she had finally released not wanting him to pass out, but little by little you could see light red finger marks, making her smile. Her tongue flicked over them, making him shiver and groan beneath her.

Her hands held his wrist this time, not wanting him to touch her as she enjoyed playing with him. Her muscle moved down his chest before her teeth sank into his pale flesh.

She closed her eyes, beginning to taste the metallic taste of blood, blood that didn't belong to her. Feyd had emitted a low moan of pleasure, an aching pain took hold of him but that only aroused him more. Especially when he saw her eagerly licking the small wound she had inflicted on him, collecting the droplets of blood that escaped.

The young woman looked at her work with satisfaction, she, who had dreamed all evening of marking it, had finally done it. You could clearly see the bite on his white skin, plus it will probably leave a purplish mark for a few days or even a week or two. She was so proud of herself that she made him a few more.

Again on the torso but also the shoulders and throat, each time repeating the same ritual, biting, cleaning and admiring. Feyd let her do it, letting out grunts and moans from time to time. He had once tried to free his wrists to grab her hips but she had bitten him even harder to make him understand to stay still.

Once her work was finished, her teeth went to nibble his left ear, tickling it slightly. He took advantage of her proximity to turn his head and furtively kiss her throat, making the princess sigh, not liking to be interrupted.

[Y/N] then started to stare at him, thinking about what she was going to do to him, but she was starting to get impatient and the wetness of her sex was starting to bother her, she wanted him right away.

Bringing her right hand to her lips she let her saliva fall there while using her other hand to hold herself above him.

—You shall give me a daughter. She ordered him.

She didn't forget the main reason for her coming, but their passionate embrace was starting to make her head spin. She would return with the Kwistaz Haderach, and thanks to that, perhaps the Bene Gesserit will let her have the privilege of seeing him again, after all she would give them what they want, so they can grant her that.

Feyd was probably going to say something but she quickly silenced him with her lips. She hungrily explored his mouth, making him groan in surprise as he closed his eyes. Their hot breaths mingled as their noses brushed together, making her grumble since she couldn't move as much as she wanted.

Her lips parted as her glistening hand descended to his cock, which she delicately grasped. He buckled his hips in her hand in surprise and he let out a grunt followed by a light hoarse laugh. He grabbed the back of her neck, keeping their lips firmly connected as his tongue had ventured between her lips when she had parted them.

The Bene Gesserit's delicate hand gently moved up-and-down, wetting him to make sure he would fit inside without harm, but she was so soaked that she was sure nothing would block.

Finally she lifted her hips above him and sink down on his cock, her hands on his chest, letting a choked moan escape her as she pulled her face away from his and Feyd grabbed her hips, forcing her to stay still. His breathing accelerated as he bit his tongue to prevent a too loud moan from coming out while throwing his head back.

He tried to compose himself, his muscles tensing. His heart was beating hard against his chest and his blood was boiling inside him. She enveloped him in a pleasant and sensual warmth making him feel hazy. While regaining his senses, he caressed her hips with the tips of his thumbs to make her wait a little longer before sitting down.

Finally, he nodded and she rolled her hips, keeping him inside her as he reached up to grab her thighs and wrap them around his waist. She let him do it, very happy not to have to move herself and get tired.

—A daughter you said ?

The Na-baron rested his forehead against hers admiring the way her lips parted and her eyes closed as he lifted her, his hands gripping her backside tightly, then he slammed her back on his hard cock.

She let out a cry of pleasure, putting her arms behind his neck, bringing their faces even closer while their sweating foreheads were already in contact. [Y/N] took the initiative to place light kisses on his lips while he continued his movements.

Every time she separated their lips, he chased her mouth away with a growl, begging her to let him kiss her longer. But she never let him, delicately scratching his back to make him understand her displeasure.

They kept eye contact whatever happened, observing each other's reactions of pleasure. Her moans and shortness of breath for the young woman and his grunts followed by sighs for Feyd.

[Y/N]'s warmth contrasted perfectly with the Na-baron's coldness, it gradually warmed his body and his heart without even realizing it. He saw the beginnings of affection and mutual attraction in her eyes, encouraging him to speed up his movements although his arms were starting to hurt slightly. But he ignored this pain which was not that unpleasant if he was honest.

Quickly she joined his movements as best she could, feeling her pleasure increase and her mind become foggy. With each thrust he bury himself deeper, desperately seeking her and his release. Her walls clinching around him brought him closer and closer.

Feeling that she would not resist long, her thighs tightened their grip around his waist and she hide her face in the crock of his neck, his scent lulling her and allowing her to reach her climax, making her release the sharper and louder moan of the evening, her nails clawed at his back for dear life, once again tracing his milky skin red.

Her lower stomach contracted and her whole body seemed to convulse against him, her chest pressing completely against his torso while her being was overcome by a deep thrill of ecstasy.

The pain these scratches gave him allowed him too, about ten seconds and some back and forth later, to reach his orgasm. He gripped her thighs in such a way that he was sure it would leave marks for a few hours. His seed sank deep into her warmth, making her sigh as she felt the warmth of it.

He held her against his chest for a few minutes before falling back on the mattress, his lady's face buried against his chest. The contact with the fabric of the sheets made his scratches burn slightly, making him sigh a discreet groan.

Finally she raised her head and lifted her hips bringing out his, now soft, shaft. Feeling his cum sliding down the inside of her thighs she tried to contract her walls to keep as much of it inside and Feyd noticing this, raised his hand to slide his middle and index fingers inside her hole as she hissed being still a little sensible.

The young woman looked down to admire the veins on her arm stand out slightly, then she met the gaze of the Na-baron who was smiling mischievously at her. She was preparing to lean in to kiss his lips but the explosion of fireworks made their heads spin.

That's it. She had what she wanted and Lady Margot will not have the pleasure of tasting this magnificent Apollo. Only, “winning” wasn’t even what she appreciated the most.

Their compatibility had been perfect, their movements had matched and their bodies understood each other perfectly. She had never felt so much pleasure and satisfaction with just one round.

Feyd brought her out of her torpor by leaning over her chest, placing small kisses there as he began to move his fingers back and forth again, he wanted to be sure that no drop of his seed came out.

Her attention back on him she grabbed his jaw affectionately and placed a kiss on his lips then her tongue collected the salty pearls on his right cheek.

—You shall dream of me every night, think of me every time your mind wander and breathe for me and only me. She whispered at the crook of his ear.

He smiled at her, a dark smile that told her that he belonged to her and that she was now the only woman he wanted, before his eyes stared longingly at her lips.

—As you wish my princess.

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 8

The rumors surrounding Rhaenyra’s children only got worse when her third child had been born.

Ysilla was now a girl of fifteen. She was very different from the skinny little child that had left Runestone so long ago. People would describe her as elegant, intelligent, and beautiful. She had grown to be graceful, as much as her dragon was. And as Dārysyr, her fierce was known by now. Her dragon had grown large and powerful; his muscles were well-formed, and his wings were strong. Ysilla went flying on Dragonback once a week. She would have liked to do it more, but she had her studies and her duties.

Just a couple of years before, Ysilla had the chance to speak with the Alchemists of King’s Landing, and she had been left very fascinated.

“Vysenia was said to be familiar with dark magic,” she said one day, sitting beneath the Hearth Tree as she observed Aemond practicing combat movements with a stick.

“You want to be Vysenia born again?” He asked, fighting against air.

“Do you think I’d made a fool of myself?” She asked with a little smile as she looked at the boy.

“No,” he answered, turning to her, “I think you are as willed as her. But with the grace of Rhaenys.”

Graceful. Yes. Ysilla had grown up to be very grateful. She knew how to bow, to speak, and to dance. The court was well impressed by her. And from Runestone, her aunt Jeyne was hoping for a good arranging for Ysilla. Not only because she had become very well respected by the people in King’s Landing but also because Queen Alicent seemed to have high expectations from Ysilla. She called her her ward.

“She probably wishes for you to be wed to one of her sons,” that rumor had reached her aunt Jeyne as well. And she seemed pleased by it in her letters. A Royce on the throne.

Ysilla, on the contrary, had no thirst for power. The thought of ambitions and schemes only reminded her of her father and what he had done to be always a step closer to the Iron Throne. But she was not her father.

The lack of personal ambition, though, did not make her blind to politics and schemes. It was because she knew how harmful they could be that she was always vigilant and observant of what happened in court. Fully aware that knowledge and duty were what was required to keep alliances and peace. She had grown up side by side with the Queen, raised by the same people that raised the princes. She knew that the health of the King was faltered, as did the respect some people had for the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when her children started to grow up to become more similar to the Captain of the Guards than her own husband. Everybody knew, and yet the King did nothing. This had also happened ten years before when her father had killed her mother.

“Are you not coming to the pits?” Aegon asked that morning when they were breaking their fast.

“You heard that right,” she answered, smiling at him before taking a sip of her milk.

“You cannot ditch me like this,” he said, leaning towards her with playful eyes, “I’ve promised you today would have been fun.”

Aegon had grown up, but his search for fun and enjoyment had remained the same. “Helaena wished to dance today. You know how I love her and how I enjoy dancing.”

He cocked his head to a side, “More than riding Dārysyr?” Then his hands moved to touch a strain of her hair, “Did I say how I like your hair today?” Ysilla took his hand to push it away. Aegon had always had a fascination with her hair, and since he had started to grow and notice women, he had begun to voice his compliments on her hair and appearance more often than not.

“I love nothing more than Dārysyr,” she answered, looking at the boy. "And we already flew with him and Sunfyre last week.”

Not so long before, Aegon managed to bend Sunfyre, becoming his dragonrider. Sunfyre was known to be the most beautiful dragon alive, and he really was. He had golden scales and pink shades, and even his flames were golden.

“I wasn’t meant to go fly together,” he said, a mischief light in his eyes.

“What’s with the face?” She asked, making him laugh.

“What face?”

“The one that always brings you trouble,” she answered with a glare. He was planning something. She knew him too well to be mistaken. She didn’t have time to ask because the wooden door opened to let Aemond enter the chamber.

“Good morrow, Aemond,” she greeted him with a smile.

“Ysilla, brother,” he answered shortly. It was how Aemond was, very different from his older brother. He was composed and dutiful. Less impulsive than Aegon was. “Mother is looking for you, Ysilla.” He said, sitting down.

“That’s why you’re not coming. Because of Mother,” Aegon said, making Ysilla turn to him.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” she said, standing up. Her eyes went from one brother to the other. "I’ll see you both when you return from the pit,” then she looked at Aegon.

“Behave.” He blown her a kiss.

“Like always, my sweet.”

“Stop that,” Aemond said, focusing his attention on the plate in front of him. Ysilla ignored Aegon, making her way towards the door. She wondered why the Queen wanted to see her. Ysilla knew she would have been busy with Rhaenyra after the princess’s labor ended and the third of her children would be born. Rhaenyra had been screaming for hours, and Ysilla stopped to observe the corridor that led to her chambers on her way to the Queen. By the screams, she seemed to be suffering very much. That made her anxious. She knew that it was a woman’s duty to give children to her husband. She just hoped the gods had mercy for them and an easy way to bring life to the world.

“Princess,” Ser Cole was guarding the door, bowing his head as she walked closer.

“Good morrow, Ser,” she answered politely. “I hope your day has been good so far.”

The man smiled, “It is, Princess.” His smile would have made her blush just a few years before. But the more she grew up, the less embarrassing it became to share words with men, even handsome men such as Ser Criston.

When Ysilla entered the chamber, the Queen was standing next to the window, and a serving girl was fixing the back of her dress.

“My Queen,” she greeted, bowing. “Have you asked for me?”

“Good morrow, my dear,” Alicent Hightower smiled kindly at her, “Indeed. Helaena is a little... agitated today."

Helaena had stayed the same in those years. She was still the sweetest girl that Ysilla had ever met. Sweet and gentle. But her queer behavior sometimes agitated even herself. Ysilla had seen Helaena in those moments, and she knew that the princess didn't like to be alone when she was feeling like that.

"We'll find something else to do then," Ysilla answered. They could have taken a walk or talked about bugs. Helaena liked bugs. Ysilla would have found something to ease Helaena's mind.

The Queen smiled at her, putting a hand on her arm. "What a blessing you are." Ysilla returned the gesture, bowing her head in gratitude and respect.

At that moment, the door behind them opened to reveal Rhaenyra and Laenor. Ysilla widened her eyes to see her cousin.

"Rhaenyra," the Queen gasped, "You should be resting after your labors."

"I have no doubt that you would prefer that, Your Grace," Rhaenyra answered, trying to keep her trembling voice steady. The pain that she had experienced was well visible on her face, and it was not surprising.

Ysilla had heard Rhaenyra screaming only a few moments before. She knew what happened during labor, and the septa had explained that to her. How could her cousin possibly walk? Or even walking up the stairs?

"You must sit," the Queen said, turning to one of her serving girls, "Talya, fetch a cushion for the Princess.” The girl bowed and turned to attend Rhaenyra.

“There’s no need,” Rhaenyra said. By the Queen insisted.

Ysilla followed Alicent as they walked towards the couple. Rhaenyra had finally accepted sitting down with Laenor's help, but seeing her in pain and holding her newborn baby, Ysilla felt like moving so that she could help her cousin sit. As the girl touched her arm, the Princess turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on her lips, probably still trying to hide her pain. It was well-known how stubborn Rhaenyra was.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“There’s no need,” Ysilla answered, then exchanging a look with the Queen.

Alicent was observing the baby like she had done with Lucerys just a few years before. Ysilla knew what she was thinking: even this child had nothing of Ser Laenor in him.

As Ysilla went back to stand next to the Queen, King Viserys entered the chamber with a huge smile on his face. “What happy news this morning,” he exclaimed.

The years had not been gentle to the King. His body was weaker and more fragile. His skin had gotten paler and his hair thinner. The condition of his left hand had gotten worse. He first lost just three fingers, but it kept getting worse until the Maester decided that it was better to cut off the entire arm. Even so, Ysilla’s uncle tried to maintain a positive attitude, always smiling at everyone.

“Indeed, Your Grace,” said Ser Leanor, taking the child in his arms to present him to the King. Ysilla observed Rhaenyra’s husband’s face as he looked at the baby. He smiled happily and proudly. Could he really be so blind? He had never seemed such a man to Ysilla. It was true, though, that he was not very present as a father.

He is more present than mine, anyway. She thought as she observed the unbothered son of Corlys Velaryon pass the child to the King. But even in his expression, Ysilla could not see surprise or disappointment. She could not understand why both men acted so blindly about the behavior of the future Queen? Why did her actions have no repercussions? Everybody knew, everybody whispered. And yet the King did nothing.

He must truly love her, if he is protecting her like that. Ysilla thought, observing the happiness on Viserys’ face.

“A fine Prince,” he said, his eyes looking at every one of them. Ysilla smiled, lowering her eyes. “Sturdy. You will make a fearsome knight.”

Surely, Ysilla thought. If the rumors were true and his father was Ser Harwin Strong, he surely could have become a terrific fighter as an adult. Breakbone was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Does the babe have a name yet?” The Queen asked with curiosity.

Rhaenyra took a breath, “We haven’t spoken-”

“Joffrey.” Ser Leanor interrupted his wife. “He’ll be called Joffrey.”

Ysilla looked between them, hoping that her face did not give away the kind of thought she had in mind. Had they spoken of it or not? Did Rhaenyra agree with such a name?

“An unusual name for a Velaryon.” The Queen was speaking the truth. Velaryon came from Valyria as much as the Targaryens. Their names came from Old Valyria to keep the traditions. But it wasn’t only their costume: in the Seven Kingdoms, all the Noble Houses had names and family names. Ysilla’s name was a Royce name. Her mother, Lady Rhea, had done it on purpose. Ysilla’s father could be a Targaryen, but she had Royce’s blood in her veins as well.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose,” Ysilla would have frowned at the King’s words, but she had to keep her composure, so she decided to look at Rhaenyra and smile at her. The Princess did the same, but there was no truth behind that gesture. They were both aware of what was happening.

The King chuckled, still focused on Joffrey, and soon after, Laenor did the same before clearing his throat.

“If you don’t mind, Your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest,” Ser Laenor said, ready to help his wife get on her feet.

“Of course,” the King answered. The Queen was soon at his side, taking Joffrey in her hands. Ysilla moved aside when she saw the King walking closer to his daughter, but she didn’t walk very far, curious about what they would have talked about.

“Well done, my girl,” Viserys said with tenderness. Such a tone forced Ysilla to lower her eyes, fully aware that her father would never have such sweetness for her. If she’ll ever see him again. She knew that he was an Essos with his lady wife and their two twin daughters. She wondered how he was fathering them. If he was cold and cruel like he had been to her so long ago. Ten years had passed, and yet she remembered the way he had looked at her as he said that he felt nothing for his firstborn daughter.

“I do hope the labor was easy,” the King said as Ysilla walked towards the Queen, who was giving the baby back to Ser Leanor.

“Do keep trying, Ser Laenor. Sooner or later, you may get one that looks like you.” She had said it so politely, but her intentions were quite clear—she was voicing the thoughts of the entire court. The man looked startled, and when he noticed Ysilla standing there, she didn’t say anything. She only smiled, with no true intention behind it.

Rhaenyra then walked towards her husband before they both left the chamber. Ysilla bowed gracefully as they disappeared behind the heavy wooden door.

“What a happy day,” the King exclaimed full of happiness.

The Queen lowered her eyes from next to him. “Indeed, my love,” she answered.

The whole situation was against everything that politics and duty required. Ysilla could understand why her uncle was protecting his daughter, but her King was making a fool of himself. And whispers could only get louder and louder, not only against Rhaenyra but against the King as well. He was not only Rhaenyra’s father; he was the Protector of the Realm, of the peace of the Realm. How would the realm answer once the King had left that world? What was ahead of them? That uncertainty was heavy in her heart. Politics could be ruthless, and it could reclaim anyone’s life.

“You wanted to dance, I’m sorry,” Helaena was saying as they walked in the corridors of the Red Keep.

“Nonsense, Helaena,” she answered honestly. The events of that morning had left little room for light emotions in her heart. “I don’t feel like dancing today.”

“Running from the back is important,” her cousin said. Ysilla turned to observe her. It didn’t matter how many years they had known each other; Helaena’s strange sentences left Ysilla confused all the time. She knew better than to ask. Helaena didn’t know how to explain the meaning of her words, and the more people asked her to, the more she got agitated. That was one of those days. One where Ysilla stood quiet, listening to all the strange things her cousin felt to say. She loved Helaena, but on those days, the hours went on slowly.

I wish I was at the Dragonpit, she thought. Ysilla wished nothing more than to be with Dārysyr, especially during days that felt so heavy in her heart.

They were back in Helaena’s chamber when the Queen arrived. Ysilla was set next to her cousin, who was very interested in counting the rings of a centipede. They have been there long. And Ysilla decided to take one of the many books that she had in her chamber to keep herself occupied until Helaena was satisfied with her counting. When the Queen entered, Ysilla was ready to stand up and bow, but the woman gestured for her to sit still and keep with her reading.

“This one has sixty rings and two pairs of legs on each, ” Helaena whispered, looking closer at the centipede, “It makes two-hundred-twenty-four.”

“Yes, it is,” the Queen said in a soft tone, even if her expression could not hide her worry. It was difficult to communicate with Helaena when she acted like that. They had to be patient.

“It has eyes,” the girl spoke, looking closely at the creature in her hand.

“Does he?” Ysilla asked, keeping reading her book.

Helaena muttered in agreement, “Though, I don’t believe it can see.” Ysilla looked at her with a confused frown.

“And why is that so, do you think?” Asked the Queen.

“It is beyond our understanding.”

Beyond mine, for sure, Ysilla thought at her cousin’s words. Those were too much of abstract concepts for her mind. She liked history better.

“I suppose you’re right,” the Queen answered. Some things just are.” As she finished speaking, though, the door opened to reveal Aemond. Ysilla put aside her book. Her eyes widened, seeing how dirty his face and clothes were.

“Aemond,” the woman gasped, walking to her son, “What have you done?”

“He did it again.” Ysilla stood up after Helaena’s words. He must have entered the Dragonpit. That place was dangerous for someone without a dragon, and Aemond was the only one of them without one. Dragons bend only to one person, and when they did, they will only listen to their rider. They could become very dangerous for anyone else. But Aemond had always been very fascinated by dragons. The pain in his eyes was always visible when they went to the Dragonpit.

Ysilla could understand him. She had been fascinated, too, before Dārysyr’s egg hatched. Being a Targaryen without a dragon hurt a lot.

“After how many times you’ve been warned,” the Queen reproved him, “Must I have you confined to your chambers?”

“They made me do it!” Aemond argued angrily. Who made him do it? Ysilla moved forward, feeling for her cousin. He truly seemed so upset. What had happened? But the Queen didn’t seem to share Ysilla’s same thoughts.

“As if you needed encouragement,” the woman said, worryingly observing her son to be sure he was not harmed. "Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding.” When she spoke like that, the Queen truly reminded Ysilla of her mother's skepticism about dragons.

“They gave me a pig!” Aemond exclaimed. Ysilla’s eyes widened.

“A what?” The Queen asked in confusion.

“They said they found a dragon for me. But it was a pig!” Aemond answered, trembling with anger.

I’ve promised you today would have been fun. Aegon had said to her that morning. He was behind it. Ysilla could not believe it. He knew how Aemond suffered since he was the only one without a dragon. Even Rhaenyra’s sons had one each, but not Aemond, a son of a King. How could he be so stupid to do that to his own brother?

“You will have a dragon one day,” Alicent said trying to calm her son, “I know it.”

Aemond deserved a dragon. It was saddening to know that his egg hadn’t hatched. He had asked Ysilla many times how she did it as they grew up, but she truly wasn't sure how or why. Dārysyr was just born one day. It had been a very normal day. But Aemond’s didn’t, and it was not fair. Why did the Gods play such games?

Aemond lowered his gaze, “They all laughed.”

And why did the Gods make Aegon to be such an idiot?

_____________________________________________________________

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @roxannequeen @shadowzena43 @bogbutteronmycroissant @heavenly1927 @aerangi @travelingmypassion @iilsenewman @ilikechocolatemilkh @plutoisaghoul

If you want to be add to the taglist just let me know.

If you liked it, please leave a ♥️ and reblog!

[just-aake]

Everlasting Devotion - Part III

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel of Boundless Devotion Series. MedievalAU. With her coronation over, Natasha is now the queen of the Romanov Kingdom. However, the position comes with challenges from both old and new enemies as Natasha tries to maintain the peace while also navigating her relationship with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 7572

It’s not difficult to spread news through the kingdom, especially regarding the royal family.

After all, gossip and rumors from the castle staff had initially revealed Natasha’s “secret relationship” with you. It makes sense that you would use the same method to spread the news of your supposed breakup.

With a carefully planned moment when some passing castle staff could easily overhear you and Natasha discussing returning as just friends, the two of you set the stage for your new charade.

By the next day, whispers of the breakup became the focus of every conversation. Nobles and common folks all either speculated whether the information was accurate or tried to pinpoint the reason for the sudden change.

In one of the castle’s guest rooms, maids pack the noble occupant’s belongings while they discuss the matter.

“Do you believe it’s true that Queen Natasha and Lady Y/n are no longer together?” one of them asks, her voice hushed yet eager for gossip.

The other maid glances around briefly before whispering, “I heard that this morning, the two passed each other in the halls with just a simple greeting, nothing like their previous interactions.”

“At least that means that they’re still on friendly terms with each other, right?” another one chimes in.

The first maid shakes her head with a sigh, “I hope so. Remember how Queen Natasha was so depressed when Lady Y/n became distant from her earlier in the year.”

“It’s so unfortunate that things didn’t work out for them,” the second maid remarks sadly, looking at the half-packed trunks before her and asking.

“Is Lady Y/n really leaving this evening?”

“Mhm,” the third maid answers with a nod but then pauses in realization and glances toward the door with a curious look.

“Speaking of which, where is Lady Y/n? She said she had to step away for a moment, but that was a while ago.”

They all look at each other with perplexed and clueless expressions before collectively shrugging in response and returning to their tasks, letting the conversation shift to other gossip.

Meanwhile, over in the opposite wing of the castle, in the new queen’s private chambers, your gasp of breath is muffled under Natasha’s mouth as she covers your lips with hers again, bringing you into another deep kiss.

Your hands clutch tightly at her clothes, pulling her closer from her position above you.

Now, given her newly changed relationship status, the two of you shouldn’t be in this kind of situation together.

However, when you visited her earlier to discuss further details of the plan, one teasing comment led to another, and before she realized it, Natasha found herself pulling you into a kiss and guiding you to her bed, where the two of you are now tangled in each other’s embrace.

“Natasha…” you whisper in between one of the kisses.

Her heartbeat quickens at the sound, loving how her name falls from your lips.

Pulling back slightly, Natasha takes a moment to look at you, and her breath catches at the stunning sight before her.

A lovely red flush graces your cheeks as your chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

Your eyes look at her with such a loving gaze, and also a hint of desire underneath that causes Natasha to lean in again, unable to resist not being near you.

Her lips hover above yours, brushing them lightly in the gentlest touch.

You release a soft breath of anticipation, urging her closer.

And Natasha’s not one to ever deny a request from you.

Leaning in, she’s about to lose herself in the feeling of you once again — when her door suddenly slams open.

The sound of her younger sibling’s outraged exclamation fills the air.

“You broke up with Y/n?!”

A surprised shove from you pushes Natasha off from above your body, causing her to instinctively catch herself beside you on the bed before she could fall over the edge.

Realizing the result of your action, you reach out to steady her and give her an embarrassed, apologetic look before withdrawing away when you remember the new presence in the room.

Groaning at the interruption, Natasha runs her fingers through her hair in frustration, pushing it back from where it had fallen over her face as she shoots a glare at her little sister.

“How many times have I told you to knock, Yelena?!”

Ignoring her reprimand, Yelena stands frozen, mouth agape in shock. She looks between the two of you in confusion, struggling to find words.

After a second, she regains her composure, swiftly closes the door, and turns to face both of you again, pointing at Natasha in accusation.

“No way,” Yelena groans in disbelief. “Please don’t tell me this one of your stupid plans again.”

Sitting up straighter at the insult, Natasha huffs and crosses her arms in offense.

Before she can begin an argument with her sister, you gently rest your hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Actually, Yelena,” you interject. “This time, it was my idea.”

“To break up!?” Yelena exclaims, her voice rising in confusion and disbelief.

“To pretend to break up,” Natasha stresses the distinction with a frown.

She stands from the bed, subtly adjusting her clothes where you had pulled them, inadvertently revealing a glimpse of her toned body for a brief second.

Clearing your throat lightly at the sight, you quickly look away and scoot to the opposite side of the bed from Natasha, standing and directing your attention to Yelena instead.

“It’s just until the matter with Dreykov is resolved,” you explain. “There’s so much tension between everyone on the council at the moment, and I don’t think our relationship is helping to ease that pressure.”

“Unbelievable,” Yelena sighs in exasperation, rubbing her temples as she mutters, “Why can’t you two just be a normal couple?”

“We are a normal couple,” Natasha argues defensively, her brows furrowing as she crosses her arms.

“Well, according to the whole kingdom, you’re not even together anymore,” Yelena reveals.

You release a relieved breath, nodding at the news.

“So it worked. People actually believe that we’ve broken up,” you remark before glancing at Natasha for confirmation.

“That’s good. Isn’t it, Natasha?”

For some reason, your relieved words cause an uncomfortable feeling to form in her chest. Natasha presses her lips slightly in a thin line in discomfort, but when you turn to look at her with the question, her expression quickly shifts, and she manages a small smile.

“Yeah…” Natasha nods lightly. “…good.”

Yelena makes a sound of disbelief, rolling her eyes and throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters under her breath.

Turning to her sister, Natasha asks impatiently, “Was there something you needed?”

Unbothered by her annoyed tone, Yelena shrugs calmly.

“Not really. I originally came here to slap some sense into you, but since you’re just pretending, I don’t have to anymore.”

“Great, then leave,” Natasha responds flatly.

“Actually,” you interject, stepping in between the two. “I think I should go. I need to finish preparing everything for my return home this evening anyway.”

Natasha’s expression falls at the reminder.

She tried to convince you to stay longer, but you remained firm in your decision to return to your manor as soon as possible.

Letting out a tiny sigh, Natasha takes your hand, caressing it gently as she pulls you close.

“Alright then, I’ll meet you later in the courtyard before you leave.”

At her offer, you and Yelena exchange a quick glance at each other, silently communicating something to each other.

“What is it now?” Natasha asks, her irritation resurfacing at the unspoken interaction. She already knows she’s not going to like the answer.

Stepping back, Yelena raises her hands in surrender and shakes her head in refusal, clearly opting out of delivering the bad news.

Natasha rolls her eyes and turns to you, her gaze expectant.

You give her hand in yours a tiny squeeze before gently pulling away, patting her arm to offer some comfort.

“It might be better if you don’t,” you explain carefully. “People are just starting to believe our ruse, and we wouldn’t want them to become suspicious.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief.

“So seeing my best friend off before she leaves is suspicious?”

“No,” Yelena answers with a slight smirk. “But it’s been less than a day since you broke her heart. Wouldn’t a breakup be more believable if there’s not much interaction between you two at the moment?”

Her words cause Natasha to frown.

“Is that what they’re saying?” Natasha asks, her voice growing more upset. “That I hurt Y/n. I would never do that.”

“But you kind of did,” Yelena counters before shrugging slightly. “At least the pretend version of you did.”

Natasha’s brows furrow deeply at the revelation, a mixture of frustration and sadness flashing in her eyes.

She opens her mouth to argue, but you interrupt her by placing a calming touch on her shoulder.

“What matters is that our plan’s working,” you say, caressing her arm comfortingly before intertwining your fingers with hers, bringing her focus to you.

“Which means Yelena’s right,” you continue firmly. “We shouldn’t be seen together for the moment.”

You tilt your head and look at her with that same soft expression that always makes her want to grant any request of yours.

“Okay, Natasha?” you ask for her confirmation.

She presses her lips slightly in irritation at the situation, but at your expectant gaze, Natasha relents with a sigh.

“Okay,” she murmurs reluctantly. “I’ll keep my distance.”

In the background, Yelena mutters a soft “whipped” under her breath before coughing lightly when Natasha shoots her a warning glare.

You roll your eyes at Yelena’s teasing before cupping Natasha’s face and pressing a light kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll see you at the next council meeting,” you reassure, turning toward the door.

Considering that’s days away, Natasha isn’t all that comforted by your words. Her eyes follow you, a mixture of longing and resignation in her heart.

As you walk past Yelena, she remarks with a mischievous grin.

“I’m telling Kate.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” you reply with an amused smile. “Goodbye, you two. And Yelena, don’t tease Natasha too much when I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Yelena calls out with a sarcastic wave.

When the door closes, Yelena turns to Natasha with a knowing smirk.

“So…how many seconds did it take for you to cave and agree to Y/n’s idea?”

Natasha sighs deeply, running a hand through her hair in exhaustion before moving toward her desk.

“Not now, Yelena,” she warns, not in the mood for further teasing.

Yelena observes her for a moment, noting the tension in her posture, before shrugging and turning her attention to her sister’s display of weapons. She picks up one of the swords, testing its weight and balance with an appreciative nod, and takes a few practice swings.

Natasha ignores her sister’s actions, already used to Yelena always playing with her things, and turns her attention to the documents she was reviewing before she was understandably distracted by your presence.

Her brows pinch in irritation when she realizes that most are from nobles expressing their agreement with her decision to break off her relationship with you, followed by their recommendations for other potential political partners.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Yelena says suddenly, grabbing Natasha’s attention.

Glancing up, Natasha gives her a questioning look, prompting Yelena to elaborate and gesture at her with the sword.

“You and Y/n pretending not to be together.”

Natasha scoffs and leans back confidently against her chair.

“We’ve known each other for years. I think we have a pretty good idea of how to behave as friends.”

“Mmm, Y/n probably can, but you can’t.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Yelena,” Natasha remarks sarcastically, brushing off the comment.

“No, I’m serious,” Yelena insists, moving closer to stand across the desk from Natasha. She waves her unarmed hand in the air for emphasis as she explains.

“It was fine before when the two of you pretended to be a couple, but that’s because, let’s be honest, you often behaved like one in the past.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief, refusing to acknowledge the most likely truth in her words.

“But pretending to be just friends?” Yelena continues, pointing at Natasha accusingly. “I can’t even remember the last time you looked at Y/n without that lovestruck look in your eyes.”

“I look at her the same way as everyone else,” Natasha defends.

“Mhm, sure,” Yelena responds flatly, rolling her eyes.

With a long sigh, Yelena’s expression grows serious, and a hint of concern flickers in her gaze as she continues.

“I’m just saying it’s obvious that you’ve been in love with Y/n much longer than she has been with you. And now that you’ve experienced what it’s like to be with her, you’ll probably struggle with this whole ‘just friends’ situation.”

A silence envelops the room as Yelena’s words hang in the air.

Natasha appears to be contemplating her sister’s warning before she leans forward on her desk with a slight smirk.

“Y/n told you when she fell in love with me?” Natasha asks curiously.

“You’re hopeless,” Yelena deadpans, hanging her head in defeat.

Natasha chuckles lightly, leaning back in her chair, relaxed and sure.

“I’ll be fine. I know how Y/n feels about me, and she knows how I feel about her. Nothing is going to come between us.”

Yelena shoots her a skeptical look.

“Except for the fact that the two of you are now eligible for other suitors,” she points out, pondering for a moment before adding, “I mean, wasn’t Y/n already meeting with Commander Hill as a potential partner before you two pretended to be together?”

Natasha recalls the moment when you confronted her about the secret relationship rumor after your date with Maria.

You had told her that the two of you were just talking then, but Natasha still remembers the discomfort and nervousness she felt when she discovered you were looking for a partner.

Now that she thinks about it, Natasha wonders, if there wasn’t that momentary rift in her friendship with you, would she have been considered as one of your choices as a potential partner, or would you still have accepted Maria’s invitation instead?

The sudden curious thought unnerves her slightly, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her chair.

Attempting to appear unbothered, Natasha shrugs and replies calmly, “Yeah, but nothing resulted from those meetings.”

“Because of your little charade,” Yelena points out. “Who knows, maybe if you hadn’t asked Y/n to be a part of your plan, they would’ve been married by now.”

Natasha frowns deeply at that comment before quickly shaking her head to dispel the uncomfortable thought.

Considering she has a brief meeting with the said commander later today, the last thing she wants to dwell on is how you and Hill nearly shared a future together.

“Is there a point you’re trying to make with all of this?” Natasha asks.

In response, Yelena slams her hand atop the desk, shooting her a serious glare and an exasperated sigh.

“I just don’t understand why you would choose to go backward in your relationship.”

Natasha gives her a confused look.

“As opposed to what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yelena replies sarcastically, gesturing to one of the desk drawers. “Maybe that little box hidden in there might give you an idea.”

Natasha looks at the drawer where she knows the ring intended for you is hidden, then back to her sister with a disapproving glare.

“You’ve been snooping through my things again,” Natasha accuses.

“Wha-No…” Yelena defends.

She waves her hand aimlessly in the air as she tries to come up with a believable excuse.

“I just happened to see it…that one time.”

Natasha crosses her arms and raises a disbelieving brow, staring at her expectantly.

Knowing she’s been caught, Yelena sighs and continues, “…when I was searching your desk to borrow one of your knives,” she admits.

Natasha blinks at her in confusion.

“What happened to all of yours?” Natasha asks, referring to Yelena’s own collection of weapons.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yelena brushes off quickly, looking away and twirling the sword in her hand in distraction.

Natasha examines her sister carefully, suspicion in her eyes. She knows Yelena well enough to recognize when she’s hiding something.

However, Natasha also understands the lack of privacy and freedom that comes with their roles in the royal family, where every move and decision is under constant scrutiny.

Having recently experienced this lack of freedom herself, Natasha decides to give her some leeway, trusting that Yelena will come to her if she needs help.

“Alright, then,” Natasha accepts nonchalantly.

Yelena squints at her in suspicion at her simple response before widening her eyes in surprise, realizing she wasn’t going to pry further. Yelena goes to return the sword to its place before facing her again, bringing the subject back to the original discussion.

“So, why haven’t you asked Y/n to marry you?” Yelena questions, her tone curious and insistent.

“It’s complicated.”

“Is it Mom?” Yelena asks knowingly. “Is she trying to make you do some elaborate proposal?”

“No, it’s not that,” Natasha chuckles lightly before her expression turns somber at the real reason why she hasn’t asked you to marry her yet.

“It’s just…with everything that’s happened, I just…I want to make sure it’s safe…”

Natasha glances down at the documents from the overbearing nobles, their demands and judgments returning to her mind. She rubs her temple in irritation, feeling the tension increasing there again.

“…before I drag her into this kind of life,” she finishes, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yelena observes her for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought before she shakes her head knowingly.

“Nat, you can’t protect Y/n from every danger out there,” Yelena remarks. “Besides, we both know she’s perfectly capable of handling herself.”

“I know,” Natasha answers sadly, recalling how you tend to face your problems alone and how well you had hidden your troubles from her and the others.

She still regrets not noticing what you were going through sooner.

Determined not to make the same mistake again, Natasha mutters softly under her breath in a promise, “But she shouldn’t have to.”

Realistically, she can’t shield you from every danger. But she can still try to give you a peaceful kingdom—the kind you’ve always believed she could accomplish.

That’s the least she can do for you after all the trust you’ve placed in her.

Letting out a tired exhale, Natasha reaches to the side of her desk and opens a secret compartment, retrieving the weapon from its place.

Her expression softens as she turns the item over in her hand, examining it with a gentle touch. It is one of her favorites and special to her for a reason.

The engraving of her family crest is prominently displayed on the hilt. The intricate hourglass design reflects hours of delicate and careful craftsmanship. Each detail and aspect of the weapon had been chosen and customized personally for her.

After a moment’s hesitation, she looks at Yelena in contemplation and makes a decision.

“Here, so you won’t have to go through my things again,” Natasha says, offering the knife to Yelena.

Before she can take it, Natasha pulls it back slightly and points at her with a warning, continuing firmly, “But you better return it after you finish with whatever it is you’re doing.”

Yelena nods in understanding as she accepts the weapon, admiring it appreciatively before recognizing it and securing it at her side.

“Right, because this was a present from Y/n. It’d be a real shame if I accidentally lost it,” she jokes with a slight chuckle.

Not amused, Natasha gives her a severe glare, a silent warning that causes Yelena to raise her hands in surrender.

“I’m kidding,” Yelena reassures. “Don’t worry, Nat, I’ll take care of it. Promise.”

She makes her way to the door and opens it before pausing and turning back to Natasha.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Mom wanted me to tell you that you need to meet with her sometime soon to discuss the plans for your birthday celebration.”

Natasha groans at the reminder.

Her upcoming birthday meant yet another social event that some nobles will manipulate for their own selfish agendas.

Considering how the previous year’s celebration turned out, Natasha is not looking forward to participating in the planning for this one.

“I assume ‘nothing’ is not an acceptable answer for her,” Natasha says with resignation.

Yelena shrugs, replying, “Maybe if Y/N was the one to suggest that. Knowing Mom, she’d probably consider it then.”

She pauses, a mischievous glint in her eyes, before releasing an exaggerated gasp.

“But wait, it wouldn’t make sense for Y/N to do that for you.”

Her voice drips with sarcasm as she gives Natasha a teasing smirk.

“You know, since you broke her heart.”

Before Natasha can react, Yelena swiftly hides behind the door, closing it just in time to block the small, paperweight Natasha hurls at her, the object clattering harmlessly to the floor.

Her laughter echoes down the hallway, causing Natasha to huff in irritation.

She turns her glare to the documents on her desk. With a frustrated growl, she crumples the papers and throws them away.

As she sits back in her chair, Natasha runs a hand through her hair, closing her eyes for a moment to collect herself. She sighs deeply, realizing she’s not going to like this new charade at all.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

After preparing everything for your return home, Natasha’s mother invited you to spend some time with her before you leave.

The fireplace casts a warm glow, creating a cozy atmosphere in the room as you engage in a friendly game with her.

Sitting across from the former queen, you study the board between you, contemplating your next move.

“So,” Melina suddenly speaks up, drawing your attention. “You and Natasha have decided to remain friends, is that right?”

Realizing she’s referring to the breakup rumors you and Natasha fabricated, you look down at the board to avoid her scrutinizing gaze. Calmly, you move one of your pieces forward, capturing one of hers, before nodding and meeting her eyes again.

“Yes,” you reply, keeping your tone casual. “We both agreed it would be for the best.”

“Hmm,” she hums thoughtfully.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion at you as she taps the edge of the board in contemplation.

You maintain your composure, accustomed to facing similarly observant eyes from her daughter.

After a moment, Melina sighs softly and turns her attention back to the board.

“I see. Well, I won’t deny that I’m disappointed it didn’t work out between you two, but I promised Natasha I wouldn’t meddle in her love life anymore. So…” She moves one of her pieces and looks up at you with a nod. “…if that’s what you’ve both decided, I’ll respect your decision.”

You offer a small, appreciative smile and refocus on the board. Noticing the new position of her piece, you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Why would you place your king inside the enemy’s territory like that?” you ask.

Melina smiles faintly, letting out a melancholic sigh as her gaze drifts to the board, lost in a distant memory.

“It’s more common than you might think, especially during wartime. Spies have always given our kingdom a fighting chance, so leaders often took on such roles too.”

She looks back at you with a smirk.

“Even I was a spy at one point in my life.”

“That sounds dangerous,” you remark, moving a counter piece and capturing another one of hers.

“It is, but if done correctly, it can be very effective,” she explains, moving the king to a position you didn’t anticipate, trapping your defenses.

She leans back in her chair, relaxed and confident, nodding at you with a hint of a smile. “And who knows, you may discover something along the way.”

Frowning, you scrutinize the board, searching for a path to recover from Melina’s powerful move, but find none. With a soft sigh, you shake your head in defeat.

“I should’ve known better than to think I could beat you in a game of war and strategy,” you admit, leaning back in your chair.

Melina waves her hand dismissively, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Nonsense, you’ve matched me at every move up until the very end. It’s impressive, really. I believe you strategize almost at the same level as your father.”

Your body tenses at the compliment, and your expression falters as you withdraw your hands to your lap.

The warmth of the fire seems to fade, replaced by a sudden chill that runs through you.

Melina notices your change in demeanor, her brow furrowing with concern as she realizes her mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she apologizes genuinely, her voice softening. She reaches out as if to touch your arm but hesitates, choosing to respect your space. “That was insensitive of me.”

“It’s okay,” you mutter, your voice barely audible as you shake your head slightly. Your hands clench slightly with your next thought, the tension palpable in the air. “I mean, it makes sense that I would have internalized some of his ways of thinking after all these years.”

“No,” Melina interjects firmly, leaning forward to ensure you hear her clearly. “You are not like him, Y/n. You are better. In every way.”

Her eyes lock onto yours, filled with conviction and deep, unwavering belief in you.

The sincerity in her words warms you, and you give her a small, genuine smile of appreciation. You hope that you will be able to prove her right.

Still sensing the slight tension in your expression, Melina claps her hands together, a determined look on her face.

“Now, I wouldn’t want you to leave without a little something from me,” she remarks, reaching over to grab a bundle of books and handing them to you.

“Here you are,” she continues. “You’ve been quite curious about the previous war in our recent conversations, so I had these old books found for you. Unfortunately, there isn’t much information about the Starks, like you requested.”

“Thank you,” you say in slight surprise. As you flip through the books. Your fingers run along their spines until one, in particular, catches your eye. Its edges are charred and damaged as if it had survived a fire.

“Oh, how did that one get in there?” Melina asks, peering over with a hint of confusion.

“What is it?” you ask, intrigued by the book’s worn appearance.

“It belonged to King Howard Stark, found among the remnants after the fire burned down their carriage,” she explains. “We tried to return some of the things we salvaged from the accident, but their son didn’t want to accept anything from us then. Still, we are fortunate that he at least agreed to keep the peace treaty his parents had established.”

You delicately trace the front of the book, absorbing the revelation. Though you once claimed you wanted nothing to do with your identity, you can’t deny your curiosity about what life might have been like if things had turned out differently or about the people who would’ve been a part of your life instead.

Melina sighs sadly at the memories. “I should return that to the storage,” she says, reaching for the book.

But you pull it closer, asking hesitantly, “Is it okay if I hold onto it…just for a bit?”

Melina observes you thoughtfully, humming in contemplation before deciding, “I guess that should be fine since I know you’d take care of it. But why the sudden interest in the Starks?” she asks.

You shrug lightly, tightening your hold on the book.

“Like you said, just curious.”

Before she can press further, a knock on the door interrupts the conversation, and Melina calls them in. The door creaks open, revealing a guard who bows slightly and declares, “The carriage is ready outside for Lady Y/n.”

Hearing this, you stand and give a bow in goodbye to the former queen.

“I should go.”

Raising her hand in a stopping gesture, Melina stands with an amused expression.

“Hold on, with all my spare time now, I don’t see why I can’t come with you to see you off.”

You pause, slightly surprised, your eyebrows raising, but you don’t refuse her company as the two of you make your way to the courtyard.

When you step outside, the chill of the evening air greets you. At this late hour, the area is almost devoid of workers and visitors. The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths.

However, the quiet atmosphere is disrupted by a rhythmic clang of metal against metal from the nearby training yard.

Curious, you glance toward the sound, and a tiny, amused smile forms on your face when you spot the familiar redhead, seemingly engrossed in a sparring session.

“How strange. Natasha doesn’t typically train at this time of day,” Melina comments beside you, noticing her daughter’s presence. She gives you a questioning look, her eyes sharp with curiosity.

You shrug slightly, your gaze naturally following Natasha’s graceful movements as she parries and strikes at each attack.

“I’m not sure why she would be training at this time either,” you reply softly, the lie slipping quickly from your lips.

As you continue to watch, you realize that Natasha’s opponent is Commander Hill. You recall that they were scheduled to meet today, but it seems they decided to test their skills against each other instead.

You’re fairly certain who suggested the idea, conveniently placing them in the training yard just as you are leaving.

At one point, Natasha’s eyes meet yours, and a tiny grin briefly breaks through her concentrated expression, causing your lips to quirk up lightly in response.

“I see,” Melina mutters before clearing her throat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you remember her presence, realizing how long you must have been staring at Natasha.

Turning away casually, feigning disinterest, you return your attention to the former queen, hoping she didn’t notice your captivated expression.

Unfortunately, the amused grin on her face, accompanied by a raised brow, suggests otherwise.

Sighing internally, you can’t believe it hasn’t even been a day since you and Natasha started this charade, and you are already getting caught by her sister and mother.

You’ll need to work harder to suppress your feelings for Natasha to ensure that this charade remains convincing to others in the future.

Taking a deep breath, you brace yourself for the anticipated reprimand of your deception.

Melina hums thoughtfully, her eyes darting between her daughter and you before giving you a pointed tilt of her head.

“I trust that the two of you know what you’re doing?” she finally asks.

Surprised by her words, you stare at her momentarily before nodding hesitantly and answering softly, “Yes.”

“Good,” Melina says with a satisfied nod. “That’s all I need to know.”

You tilt your head in slight confusion at her reaction, astonished by her nonchalant attitude and the trust she places in you regarding the situation. You wonder if she’s toying with you, offering a false sense of security before delivering a reprimand or lecture.

However, Melina simply gives you a reassuring smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder before surveying the surrounding courtyard. Her brow furrows as she realizes something, and she calls for a nearby guard.

“Where are all the escorts?” she asks, concern evident in her voice.

Before the guard can respond, you break out of your stupor and speak up.

“I told Captain Rogers that I would be fine without one,” you reveal.

The aftermath of the recent attack had left many of the castle’s soldiers out of commission, still recovering from their injuries, both physically and mentally. You can see that the remaining soldiers are spread thin, their numbers barely sufficient to maintain the castle’s defenses.

“No, that’s not acceptable. Surely, we can offer you some protection on your way home,” Melina insists, moving to command one of the guards.

You stop her, interjecting reassuringly, “Thank you, but really, there’s no need.” You gesture towards the carriage. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t be alone during the ride.”

Standing in the distance near the carriage are two familiar figures waiting for you.

Upon seeing who you’re referring to, Melina relents with a soft sigh in understanding, “Oh, alright then.”

She gently touches your arm, adding, “It’s been a pleasure having you at the castle, Y/n. Come visit again soon.”

You give her a bow in farewell, returning the sentiment, “I will. Thank you…for everything.”

Leaving the former queen’s side, you make your way over to the carriage and find Pietro near the packed chests at the back. He fidgets with the restraints, securing them again and again, his movements a blur of nervous energy.

After stowing the bundle of books in the carriage seat, you quietly approach him.

“What are you doing?” you ask the older twin curiously.

Pietro jumps slightly, startled by your sudden presence at his side, and replies hastily, “We’re not doing anything!”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion at his reaction.

Seeing your expression, Pietro shifts nervously and tries to lean casually on the chests, patting them awkwardly.

“I mean, I’m just checking to make sure everything’s secure.”

“The guards already did that,” you point out with a raised brow.

“Well, you can’t be too careful,” Pietro sputters, his eyes shifting around nervously.

You notice his gaze darting toward something beside you.

Turning to see what he’s looking at, you find his twin sister standing a short distance away, gazing intently at the training field.

Confused and surprised that Wanda has yet to greet you, you start to make your way toward her.

Before you can get far, Pietro swiftly slides in front of you, blocking your path and waving his hands frantically.

“You know what, you’re right. Everything’s all ready to go. We should just get into the carriage now,” he suggests quickly, attempting to steer you in a different direction.

Pinching your brows further in suspicion at his behavior, you step back and cross your arms.

“What is going on? Why are you acting so strange?”

Pietro’s face flushes with a mixture of guilt and anxiety.

“It’s nothing, really. Just…um..uh,” he stammers, but his eyes flicker once more to Wanda.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, you sidestep Pietro and stride over to Wanda. He quickly follows behind you, still trying to convince you that nothing is happening.

With her arms crossed, Wanda focuses intently on something in the distance, not noticing your approach.

You follow her gaze curiously, and your eyes widen in surprise at what you see.

In the training yard, Natasha is now struggling in the sparring session, with Maria seemingly gaining the upper hand with each strike. While it’s not unusual for the skilled and formidable commander to hold her own against Natasha, you quickly notice that something is off compared to when you watched them earlier.

Natasha’s movements and swings are staggered, lacking their usual precision. When their swords connect again, you spot the reason.

A tiny red mist appears at the point of contact, and Natasha’s sword is slightly shifted from its intended position, causing her to lose balance from the sudden, unexpected shift in pressure.

Reacting quickly, Natasha adjusts herself and continues the fight.

Swiftly turning to Wanda, you see the subtle red glow in her eyes and on her fingers, moving slightly from where they’re hidden in her crossed arms.

“Wanda!” you call out.

Startled, all signs of her powers vanish immediately, and she turns to you with an innocent expression.

“Yes?”

You give her a disbelieving look, silently telling her she isn’t fooling you.

“In the carriage,” you declare, pointing back in the direction you came from.

Frowning, Wanda points at Natasha in the distance. “But she broke up—”

“Now,” you say firmly.

Wanda sighs, dropping her hands to her sides with a pout, but she follows your order and heads to the carriage.

Turning to the other twin, who is now standing awkwardly nearby, pretending to innocently examine something on his shirt, you call out, “You too, Pietro.”

Grabbing his arm, you pull him toward the carriage. “Don’t think I forgot about your part in this.”

He yelps in surprise at your sudden action. “But I didn’t do anything!” he exclaims incredulously.

“Really? So, you weren’t trying to distract me from finding out what Wanda was doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

Pietro starts to answer but hesitates, closing his mouth guiltily under your knowing gaze. Deciding there’s no point in lying, he quickly jumps into the carriage before you can reprimand him further.

Shaking your head at their behavior, you hold the carriage door, preparing to enter, but can’t resist glancing over your shoulder at the training yard once more.

Natasha stands victorious despite the earlier interference. She helps Maria to her feet, then casually turns toward you as she sheathes her sword. Catching your gaze, Natasha flashes her usual confident smirk and follows it with a quick, flirty wink.

Huffing lightly, you roll your eyes at her antics but can’t help the smile that forms on your face. With a slight nod of goodbye, you climb into the carriage, and the driver closes the door behind you.

Natasha watches you over at the training ground until you disappear inside the carriage.

She’s glad she thought of arranging this short training session, knowing you would be leaving at this time. This way, she keeps her promise to maintain distance while still seizing the chance to see you.

The moment you appeared with her mother, her attention immediately drifted toward you. Glancing down at her hand, Natasha clenches and unclenches it, observing it curiously before looking back at the carriage.

Perhaps her focus on you was why some of her strikes felt off earlier.

The commander steps up beside her after recovering from her defeat, and her eyes follow Natasha’s gaze across the courtyard.

“Oh, is Lady Y/n leaving today?” Maria inquires, wiping sweat from her brow.

Realizing she is still staring, Natasha quickly turns away. She nods slightly and tries to mask her emotions with a casual tone. “It appears so.”

Maria’s expression shifts to one of sympathy at the seemingly new dynamic between you and Natasha.

“I’m sorry to hear that it didn’t work out between you two,” Maria says gently. “I hope this wasn’t because of the remarks from the other council members.”

Natasha grimaces at the reminder of why she’s in this position, but she quickly changes her expression to something more neutral.

“These kinds of romantic relationships are always complicated,” she says with forced nonchalance, adding, “We’ll be fine eventually. This won’t change anything about our friendship.”

Maria nods thoughtfully, glancing back at your carriage.

“That’s good to hear,” she says. “Whether romantic or platonic, I believe Lady Y/n is someone great to have by your side, either way, Your Majesty. The other lords don’t even try to know her enough to understand that.”

Her praise reminds Natasha of Yelena’s earlier remarks regarding you and the commander.

Clearing her throat to dispel the sudden discomfort, Natasha tries to sound casual as she brings up the topic of Maria’s intentions.

“I heard you and she also shared a brief sort of courtship before,” Natasha begins, hesitantly asking, “Do you still have an interest in Lady Y/n in that way?”

Maria turns her attention back to Natasha, her expression slightly surprised before turning contemplative as she considers her response.

“I won’t lie and say that I’m not intrigued after getting to know Lady Y/n,” she finally replies, her words careful and measured.

Natasha’s brows furrow slightly at her admission, realizing Yelena was correct about the potential problems this new charade could bring.

You’ve always teased her for having so many admirers, yet you are oblivious to the many others also drawn to you.

Now that you’re no longer spoken for, they are probably eager for the chance to be with you. But with the conditions of this charade, Natasha can’t do anything to prevent it from happening, forced to keep her distance and maintain an indifferent attitude about the situation.

Natasha sighs internally at the thought and returns her focus to the conversation.

Before she can muster an appropriate response, Maria gives her a small, knowing smile as she continues, “However, I won’t be pursuing such relations with her anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking.”

Confused, Natasha furrows her brows and asks curiously, “Why is that?”

Maria chuckles lightly before gesturing at her.

“Well, first, because she just got out of a relationship with you,” Maria reminds her. “I’m sure she would prefer some time to herself before delving into something with another person so soon.”

Natasha nods in understanding, acknowledging the truth in Maria’s reasoning. “And the other reason?”

Maria’s eyes drift back to the carriage briefly before returning to Natasha. A faint, self-conscious smile plays on her lips.

“Contrary to how it may seem with my other accomplishments, I’m not as confident when it comes to matters of romance,” she admits.

Natasha considers this, realizing she rarely hears about the commander’s romantic pursuits. The only time it was mentioned was by you about your meeting with her.

Rather than reassurance, her revelation brings about a new discomfort as Natasha suddenly realizes something.

She raises her hand in a halting gesture, her thoughts racing as she pieces together the new information.

“Wait, are you saying Y/n asked you out first?” Natasha asks hesitantly.

Maria nods in confirmation before tilting her head slightly as if recalling the memory.

“I’m still curious as to why she did, though, considering her secret relationship with you,” she remarks thoughtfully. She shakes her head and shrugs, continuing, “Though, maybe it was her father’s decision to have us meet. I heard he made such arrangements for her during that time.”

Natasha falls silent as she processes the revelation. The uncomfortable feeling from before resurfaces with full force. She knows Dreykov had no part in this.

Choosing Maria was something you decided for yourself.

After a moment of silence, Maria speaks up, sensing Natasha’s distracted state.

“Should I come back another time?” she suggests.

Pulled from her thoughts, Natasha quickly shakes her head in response, deciding to redirect the conversation to other matters rather than continue spiraling further about the subject. She can deal with her feelings later.

“No, it’s fine,” she reassures, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. “You mentioned you found something troubling about Rumlow’s weapon operations.”

Maria nods, retrieving a folded document from her side and handing it to Natasha.

“One of the orders from his books lists some strange, unapproved weapons that came in recently,” she explains.

Natasha furrows her brows as she examines the document. It indicates that the weapons were sent to Rumlow from somewhere far west. But the only two kingdoms in that direction would be Carter and—

“Stark?” Natasha mutters in contemplation.

After years of brief communication with the former enemy kingdom, the sudden influx of information concerning them is both unusual and unsettling.

First, there was their previous captain Bucky’s reappearance from hiding, then your revealed identity, and now possibly this.

Natasha would feel better about the situation if she had a chance to meet the Stark king and see what sort of person he is, but all she’s learned about him is from rumors and stories—most of which are not exactly favorable toward his character.

“We’re not sure,” Maria answers, pulling Natasha from her thoughts. “But that’s the least troubling part.”

“What is it then?” Natasha questions.

“They’re missing from his inventory,” she reveals. “Most likely, the weapons have already been sold or distributed to his followers.”

The mercenaries of Hydra. Some of their members escaped capture after her duel with Rumlow and are still hiding in the kingdom.

It’s troubling to think they may have gotten hold of these weapons, and now, without someone to follow, who knows what they might plan to do.

Natasha sighs at the news, adding to her growing list of worries.

“What kind of weapons are we dealing with here?”

“I’ve asked around, but not even Clint has an idea of what these weapons are capable of,” Maria answers.

Natasha frowns, then nods with determination.

“Inform Captain Rogers of the situation and see if he can spare any more help in the investigation,” she instructs. “We need to find these weapons quickly before they are used to hurt anybody.”

“Understood,” Maria replies, nodding. “I’ll let him know right away.”

As Maria leaves to carry out the orders, Natasha takes a moment to collect herself.

The thought of being unable to be near you for a while tugs at her heart, but combined with these new problems, she steels herself, understanding that there are other pressing matters at the moment.

Her feelings can wait. It’s like she said before — Nothing is going to come between you two. Natasha glances back toward the departing carriage one last time, a mix of conflicted emotions flickering across her face. Right?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/n: thank you for reading! I know I already said that it may take longer in between parts, but I’m still sorry about the wait (and for how long this part is 😬) Hopefully, with some free time coming up, I can have more time to write.

Taglist : @midastouch013, @2silverchain, @dvrkhcld, @observeowl, @x-drowned-x, @fireandblood-3, @natsxwife, @leequifey, @blacklightsposts, @srt-sah, @scar-letwidow, @likefirenrain, @autorasexy, @natsbiggestfan1, @lex13cm, @iheartjohansson, @tofu9162, @nothanksbye07, @unexpected-character, @natashasilverfox, @acciowriting, @qtreesfanstuff

[jaebeomsbitch]

Best Friend's Kisses (E.M.)

Summary: After seventeen long years of friendship Eddie decides to fulfill a ten year old promise. Something whispered in the middle of the night. He gives you the best gift of all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! reader, really only mentioned like two or three times

Mid-twenties Eddie and reader. Mechanic! Eddie

Warning: Slight smut at the end, talks of insecurity, making out, flirting, swearing, and melancholy reader. MINORS DNI!

AN: This is only my third fic on here. I'm still trying to understand the formatting.

Eddie Munson had been your friend since you met him on the playground in third grade. He had defended you against some asshole kid who tried to take away your toy. Pushed him to the ground and yelled at him, you’d been inseparable since then. You saw each other through the awkward phases of becoming teenagers, watched him struggle through high school, and then eventually graduate.

Now you were both in your mid twenties, still having movie nights at the Munson’s every Friday after your shift at the record shop. You had a chance to leave, to go to college in New York but you turned it down. Not that you told Eddie, you didn’t want him to feel guilty. Truthfully you did stay for him, afraid that he might break without you but, did he really need you?

Eddie was an incredible sweetheart, making friends left and right with whoever would listen to him. It seemed like anyone that had a chance to really talk to him could see beyond the rumor around him. He was surrounded by people who loved him. Sometimes you regret staying, maybe you could’ve become something. Maybe you could’ve gotten a good degree, move your parents out of this shitty town but you were afraid.

The truth being you use Eddie as a crutch, you always had. Hiding behind him, gripping onto the back of his shirt as he yelled at another person for you, cleaning him up after he fought with a guy for groping you, Eddie was your protector in a sense. So you stay, stay in the shitty down you despise, wallow in self pity for being a fucking coward like you always are, and spending your days drinking or getting high with Eddie and his friends.

Today was a special day, Eddie had gotten a job at a mechanic shop. He always said that when he got his first paycheck he’d buy you something really special. He’d jump around from job to job until he found Earl. Earl was the only person who truly gave Eddie a chance.

“Honey, I’m home,” He jokes, walking into the trailer. Already expecting you to be lying on his bed when he comes home like you always are. He walks in shoulders hunched, face covered in grease stains, and hair knotted. “Gonna take a shower, then’ll be back. Got something exciting for you sweetheart,” He smiles, grabbing the pile of clothes you left on the foot of his bed ready for him. “Toodaloo,” he wags his fingers behind him as he exits the room.

Oh god what did he get you? Eddie had a reputation for going overboard, always saying he had to spoil his ‘princess’ because you were his longest friend. Always rambling about how you deserved the world for sticking by his side. Steve and Robin like to tease him, poking fun at your friendship. Always whispering, “you’ve never thought ‘bout it?” with their questioning gazes. It didn’t matter what either of you said, they never believed you. They could see the way the tips of your ears turned red or the way Eddie silently threatened Steve.

“I feel so much better,” He sighs, throwing himself next to you. He cuddles into the pillow, throwing the sheets over himself. “You forgetting something?” You laugh.

“Oh shit, sorry. M’tired,” He mumbles, eyes open wide. “Just go to sleep, Eds. You can give me whatever it is tomorrow,” You whisper. Trying to lull him back to sleep as you massage his scalp. “No, been waiting forever,” He murmurs, eyes blinking slowly. He must’ve been really tired for him to forget dinner. Eddie was never one to skip meals, always saying they were his favorite part of his day. You watch him sleep, he looks so peaceful with his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. It isn’t until you hear the phone ring that you move your hand from his curls.

“Hello?” You whisper trying not to wake him up. “Oh hey! I was expecting Eddie,” Steve says on the line. “He got home and fell asleep immediately, I was just about to make dinner. What’s up?” You ask.

“You sound so domestic, like a housewife,” Steve chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah. Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes leaning against the wall.

“H-has he given you the present yet?” He asks out of nowhere.

“No, he just said he had something for me then fell asleep two seconds later. I don’t know what he did today but he skipped lunch. You know how unusual that is for him,” you say slightly concerned.

“It’s just… he loves you a lot you know?” Steve says, his voice sounding a little weird.

“Yeah and I love him too,” You reply quickly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just… keep that in mind, I’ll see you tomorrow,” He says.

“What wh-” He hangs up. What the fuck was that about? Of course you’d see Steve and the gang tomorrow, it was your weekly get together with the adults of the group but this felt weird. It almost felt like something monumental was supposed to happen today.

You try to shake away the feeling, looking through the fridge to see what they have. Cheese and tortillas, the ones you brought from home because you ‘accidentally’ bought two packs. You make quesadillas like you’ve made all your childhood, they were quick to make and easy for Eddie to eat while he’s half asleep. He had this miraculous way of waking up, eating, and forgetting that he even ate when he woke up.

“Eds… Teddie,” you whisper, gently shaking his shoulder until he groans. He gained the nickname after a long night of calling each other annoying nicknames, you saw your childhood teddy bear and instantly thought of Eddie. Just like it, he brought you comfort and he was also the person to give it to you. Claimed he won it in a claw machine for twenty five cents but you knew he had saved his money for weeks to buy it for you. You'd seen it at the store when your mom dragged you shopping for your sister's new clothes.

“I know, I know, baby. Just eat and you can go back to sleep okay,” You whisper, sitting on the ledge of the bed next to him. He slowly blinks, turning toward you as he scratches his neck languidly.

“Come on, eat,” You show him the plate but he still blinks at you not understanding. So you feed him like a sick child, watching as he takes little bites and tilting his head forward when he needs a drink. “Go back to sleep,” You whisper, kissing him on the forehead as his eyes close again.

Steve was right, it all felt entirely domestic. You’d never treat him, Robin, or any of your other friends like this but Eddie, he was special. Your heart clenches at the idea, always longing for Eddie in a way you know is not possible. Always afraid you’d ruin your seventeen years of friendship, afraid you’d lose the one person who made you feel comfortable. You’d always cuddled with him, he was overly touchy with you to the point that everyone thought you were together. You were always off limits to the other guys in Hawkins, only ever catching the eye of passersby. You fall asleep, thinking about all the should haves and could haves.

The sun filters through the small crack in the curtains hitting you straight in the face. You look around the room, remembering you fell asleep next to Eddie. His arm is around your waist, head buried in your neck, hair tickling your nose. You try to stretch as much as you can while being basically pinned down by Eddie.

“Ten more minutes,” he mumbles, pulling you closer.

“You slept for sixteen hours already,” you snort.

“Not enough,” He nuzzles into your neck.

“You gotta stop that or I’m gonna piss myself,” You say, trying to pry his arm off of you.

“Do it, you wouldn’t dare,” He challenges.

“No I wouldn’t but seriously, I gotta go!” you say more urgently.

“Fine, but you jump right back in bed the minute you finish,” He bargains.

“It’s almost one o’clock, I am not staying in bed,” You protest, still pulling at his arm.

“Either way you still owe me a present,” You say.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” He says, finally letting you go. You run to the bathroom to take care of yourself, peeing and brushing your teeth. You’d had a toothbrush right next to Eddie’s since your first sleepover, he always took charge of changing it out every couple of months.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You ask, rummaging through his closet.

“Eat, present, meet Robin and Nance and 'em,” He says, standing up from the bed to join you. He picks up a pair of black jeans, his favorite because “they fit him the best and they make his ass look good,” according to Eddie. It was warm out, you could already tell by the heat in the trailer so he picks out a cutoff tee that shows off the sides of his ribs if he moves a certain way. He didn’t know this was your favorite shirt of his. He always looked so fucking hot with it on, his tattoos peaking through the side, his midriff exposed at the corner of your eye. Well if he was going to play that game you needed a better outfit, no band tee for you.

You search through your overnight bag for the black lacy cami top that usually leaves him speechless and a pair of shorts. He looks at the outfit in your hand and gulps.

“Great, I’m starving,” You wink at him as you walk by. What the fuck were you doing? What has gotten into you? He might’ve just been thirsty or something. There was no guarantee he even noticed what you grabbed or even cared. When you come out dressed you hear Wayne’s voice to the right of you talking to Eddie about his job.

“Good…afternoon!” You greet them.

“Finally decided to wake up I see,” Wayne says, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t judging you, he liked to tease but he knew how hard Eddie and you worked. He always treated you like a dad, more than your own father. He was protective and caring in his own way.

“Blame Teddie,” You nudge Eds in the ribs.

“You know I need my beauty rest,” He says, flicking his hair.

“Maybe you need to sleep longer,” Wayne’s eyes light up, teasing Eddie.

“Some sleep would do you good,” Eddie says, tone more serious. Wayne had been picking up more shifts lately, you had hardly seen him the last three weeks.

“I’m already as pretty as I’ll get,” Wayne grumbles, not liking Eddie’s concern.

“Weren’t y’all ‘bout to get food, c’mon get,” Wayne pushes you both out, slamming the door behind you two.

“He really is overworking himself,” You sigh as you climb into Eddie’s van.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been taking longer hours at the shop. Just want to take some burden off the old man,” He says, eyes focused on the road. You both sit in silence on the drive to Benny’s, thinking about how stuck you felt.

You wanted to help Wayne in any way you could but you still weren’t making enough money. You rented out a room from your parents because according to them the second you turn eighteen they weren’t supposed to help you anymore. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn’t afford the lease. You remember all those nights with Eddie, dreaming of the day you finally became adults so you could become independent.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, snapping his finger in front of your face.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” You jump, hand clutching your chest.

“What’s got you so spaced out?” Eddie asks, during the short walk into the diner and into your “designated” booth.

“Nothin’” you say, playing with the salt and pepper shakers.

“C’mon tell me what’s on your mind,” He pushes.

“I just wish I could do something to help Wayne out,” You sigh, not looking up at him.

“Me too,” He says, taking the pepper from your hand and playing with it. You didn’t expect the heavy atmosphere but thankfully it's broken when Doris comes over with your drinks. You always ordered the same thing, every week.

“Here’s your cola’s, just put in your order,” She smiles.

“Thank you!” you beam at the sugary beverage.

“There’s something magical in these sodas I swear,” You moan, as you gulp it down.

Eddie’s looking at you through his eyelashes, tongue swiping at his bottom lip.

“Yeah tastes pretty good,” He observes, voice deeper than normal and pupil’s slightly blown out. You make conversation over your pancake breakfasts, talking about shitty customers and bonding over telling them to fuck off. The tension from earlier is gone as Eddie promises he can scarf down his food in less than ten minutes.

“I never said you couldn’t do it, I just said it wasn’t worth the upset stomach I know you’re gonna have,” You say, walking toward his van.

“Well it was worth it,” He gives you a toothy smile.

“Now for the big event,” He says, as you both get in the van.

“Big event?” You question.

“Got you a surprise, something I promised you a long time ago,” He says, staring into your eyes. There’s something there you don’t recognize, his gaze looking different. You wrack your brain trying to decipher his riddle. What did he promise you? He had made so many promises over the years, pinkies intertwining each other as Gareth made fun of your childish ways.

“Okay…” You look at him suspiciously.

“But, I’m gonna need to blindfold you,” He says, eyes full of mischief.

“Ooh kinky,” you wag your eyebrows at him. His eyes slightly widen before he snaps out of it and grabs a scrap of fabric from his door.

“Turn around for me sweetheart,” He mumbles. You can’t help but slightly shake as he places the opaque fabric over your eyes, his hand brushing the back of your head as he knots it in place. The entire act felt all too intimate, your heavy breaths in the silent van weren’t helping either.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, presumably waving a hand in your face as you turn to sit straight.

“Nothing, scouts honor,” You say, raising two fingers.

“You weren’t even in the scouts,” He laughs, turning the key in the ignition. You don’t know what direction you’re heading in.

“Oh my god are you gonna murder me? Been playing the long con? Get me comfortable so I go without protest,” You tease.

“Oh yeah, gonna chop you up in the forest in the name of satan,” He says dramatically.

“Sounds ‘bout right,” You laugh, as he pulls to a stop.

“We’re here, just give me a second” He says, opening the door and rounding the car to open yours less than a second later.

“Wrap your arms around my neck princess,” He says, carrying you out of the van and placing you on your feet.

“Woah,” You grab onto his arm as the dizziness sets in.

“You alright?” He asks, concerned laced in his voice.

“Yeah just give me a second. M’dizzy” You say, gripping harder onto his bicep.

“Take your time,” He says.

“I’m ready,” You say after a minute. “Okay, just follow my voice. It’s a trust exercise,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he leads you. “There’s like three steps, just take ‘em slow. Here’s the first one,” He says, stopping so you can get your footing. He leads you up the last two, “Before you take your blindfold off… just, I don’t know. J-just I don’t even know how to explain it,” He says, voice full of nervousness.

“Eds, I feel like I've been blindfolded for an hour. If this is another prank I will fucking kill you,” You threaten.

“Not a joke, promise,” He says, “Ready?”

“Been ready,” You answer. He takes your hand putting something cold in it and leaning over your shoulder to see the knot. You blink at the sudden light, trying to grab your bearings.

“W-what?” You asked confused. He’d placed a key in your hand, you were standing in front of a house.

“We always promised we’d move out together, it was time for me to bank it in,” He smiles.

“Wait, what?” You still couldn’t believe it. It had to be some sort of joke, he probably found this key on the floor.

“C’mon open the door,” He nods his head in the direction of the lock.

“You’re serious?” You ask, eyes wide in shock.

“As a heart attack. C’mon! I’ve been waiting for months to show you it,” He says, pressing you to open the lock. Your hands shake as you approach the door, the key surprisingly sliding in and turning. Oh no he wasn’t lying, this wasn’t an epic prank. You open the door to an empty living room, his hand guiding you inside.

“I haven’t picked out the furniture yet, thought you’d want to do it together,” He stammers, as you silently scan over the room. It was nice, the entrance opened to the living room, to the left was an open floor plan kitchen, and to the right a bedroom.

“T-together?” You stutter. You were speechless.

“I know how much you hate living at your folks home and you know we made that promise that we’d move out together when we had the money,” He says scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous at your lack of response, did you hate the house? Maybe he should have consulted you first.

“So you and me, living together?” You question, taking in every single detail.

“Yes, just you and me. Maybe Wayne but I doubt he’ll leave the trailer. He’ll finally have a bedroom again though,” He trails off.

“Holy shit, this is for real?” You ask again, walking around the living room toward the kitchen.

“Oh my god how many times do I have to say yes. Did I tie that blindfold too tight? Not enough oxygen in your brain” he chuckles at his joke. You jump into his arms, legs straddling his waist. You hold onto him like a monkey as he grabs your thighs.

“This is the best present ever! Holy shit, Eddie,” You say hugging him close.

“Least I can do for your long years of serving me loyally,” He laughs, walking deeper into the house. You slide down his body as he pulls you through, giving you the grand tour. The house had three bedrooms total, apparently he got an insane deal on the property. Someone from the shop got a huge opportunity in Indianapolis and was trying to get rid of it. They passed down the title to Eddie instead of going through a broker.

“Now this, I think may be your favorite part,” He says, pulling you toward the back door. Your hands entwined, which was not unusual for you both. He opens the door to a beautiful garden, the previous owners must’ve loved this place. It was full of flowers and fruit trees.

“There’s a perfect shady spot to read your books, we could put a table out there and have breakfast together,” He says.

“Holy shit Eddie, it’s perfect,” You say, pulling him in for another hug. He’s bent at an awkward angle to meet your height. Without thinking you peck him on the lips before letting him go and walking down the steps to the garden. You look back at him still frozen in that weird position.

“What’s wrong?” You ask oblivious to what you had just done.

“D-did you just kiss me?” He asks, running down the stairs to meet you halfway down the yard.

“T-that was-” You stutter, realizing what happened. He towers over you, hand tilting your face upward as he kisses you again.

“This okay?” he mumbles into your lips. You move your hands to his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. “Mhm,” You agree, trying to pull him closer. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip with a groan, his kisses becoming more desperate. You open your mouth inviting him in, his tongue mapping out your mouth as you moan. “F-fuck,” You breathe out as he pulls away, kissing down your neck. You’d never been touched like this by Eddie, his hands running all over you anguished for a piece of skin to grab onto. He leans his forehead against yours, as you both catch your breath, his hands under your shirt on your hips.

“W-what was that,” You stammer.

“Been wanting to do that since middle school,” His breath ghosts over your face as he leans back to look at you, skin flushed and chest rising rapidly.

“Since fourth grade,” You laugh, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him down to your level.

“That long?” He says incredulously.

“You were my first crush,” You admit, face flushing at the confession.

“You were mine!” He says, voice raising in astonishment.

“So we could’ve been doing that for fuckin’ years?” He says more to himself than you.

“Guess so,” You shrug your shoulders.

“No wonder everyone thought we were dating. You made the goo goo eyes at me I made the goo goo eyes at you,” He laughs.

“That was your fault! You always had an arm around my shoulder or were holding my hand. Anyone would’ve thought we were together!” You reply.

“As if you didn’t love it. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you look at me when I wear this shirt,” He teases.

“So you admit you did it on purpose?” You ask, smacking his chest.

“Course gotta make you all nervous,” He pecks you on the lips.

“Well don’t think I don’t notice all the times you stare at my boobs especially when I wear this,” You motion to your outfit.

“I fucking knew it! You’re a temptress y’know that?” He growls, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Anyway, I was always touching you because I didn’t want anyone hanging around my girl,” He mumbles at his admission, neck and cheeks flushed.

“Your girl?” You question, eyebrow raised.

“Always have been, always will be,” He reveals.

“You don’t know how many girls I had to fight off,” You chuckle.

“No way! I had to fight off half the town. You don’t even know how many fist fights I got into because of you,” he says.

“Girls are a lot more vicious. You know there was always a rumor going around about you,” You divulge.

“Oh yeah?” He motions for you to go on. “Always heard you had a big dick,” You reveal before hiding in his chest. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases.

“Yes I would,” You say, gaining confidence. You look up at him, the way his chocolate brown eyes are swallowed by his pupils. He pulls you in for another kiss, this one faster and more aggressive, it almost felt primal.

“Finally!” Robin cheers from the door, Eddie groans at the sound. He forgot he called them while you were changing. Steve, Robin, and Nancy scramble down the stairs giving you both congratulations. Gareth, Jeff, and, Grant arriving a few minutes later. Eddie’s annoyance dies down when he sees your face loving the way you laugh around your friends. You spend the rest of the afternoon drinking and eating take out with them. Nancy had brought a board game, this felt like home. Having them all here, Eddie's arm wrapped around you as he kisses your temple. You were finally home.

Eddie was finally yours and you were finally his. All your internal struggles and insecurities paid off. You had won the big prize at the fair! You spend the night on a blow up mattress with Eddie, eventually popping it because he has no control. After years of waiting you both felt more than desperate, clawing at each other's clothes.

“Shit- shit shit! M’close,” You moan.

“Fuck me too!” his eyes roll to the back of his head, thrusting in and out at a brutal pace.

“Say you’re mine, wanna hear it,” He begs.

“M’yours, always yours,” You claw at his back. “Yes yes yes yes,” He rambles until you’re both seeing stars. He pulls out of you, pulling you to his sweaty chest.

“This has to be a dream,” He exhales, staring at the ceiling. You kiss his chest in response. It was all too real. Your dreams had become reality. You finally had Eddie in your arms. You were his and he was yours just like you both promised when you were children.

[catherinnn]

Faking It, Feeling It

summary: fake dating with eddie! where jason and chrissy break up and they become a little too obssessed with Eddie and you. so much so that you start acting as if you two are already dating so they'd leave you alone. but you were never very good actors.

warnings: mature content (not actual smut but implies), jealously, swearing, just major fluff really.

6.8k words

The last few weeks at Hawking’s High have been hell, even more than normal.

Star couple, high school sweethearts, prom queen and king of the school: Chrissy and Jason had broken up.

They have been dating since their freshmen year, and now they’re currently in their senior year.

And while it was hell for everyone who thought they were the perfect couple, the ones that claim they no longer believe in love since they broke up; it was even more of a hellhole for you and for Eddie Munson.

A weird combo, I know. Why do you two randoms have anything to do with the break up? You may have had like two conversations with Hellfire’s Dungeon Master in total within all of your high school years.

All you knew of him was what the people here say about him, which you don’t really believe in. You don’t really care, you’ve learned the hard way to not care about the rumors they spread in this town.

But back to the original question, I’ll give you the answer: Eddie and you are involved in this whole situation because after the happy couple decided to break up and accept their new bachelorhood, they wanted to get back out there and be with other people, and guess who their first options were? You for Jason, and Eddie for Chrissy.

Not so random since Eddie and Chrissy have been friends for ages, plus, Chrissy knew he was the perfect guy to get back at Jason. That Eddie has had a little crush on Chrissy for ages was totally a coincidence. A happy one she would say.

And since you’ve been trying to ignore Jason’s longing stares at you while he was actually dating Chrissy, trying to forget about the time he had called ‘dibs’ on you if he was ever single again, so none of his other friends made a move on you— not that they really listened —it was not random either.  

Now the question may be: Why has it been hell for both of you?

The thing is, Jason and Chrissy have been flirting with you and Eddie at every given chance since they broke up.

For obvious reasons you didn’t want to go on a date with Jason. Not even if he was the last man on earth.

Eddie didn’t want to date Chrissy because, even if he has had a crush on her for so long, he realized that she would only use him as a rebound, a toy she plays with for a little while just to make her ex jealous. And even if his hellfire friends told him “fuck it, that’s the only chance you’ll get with a girl like her! Take it anyways” It didn’t feel right for him, so he decided not to do it.

As for right now, you were currently running away from the classroom you just had history at. It was one of the classes you shared with Jason, and even if you did have the luck to not be seated with him, it was in his plans to walk you out of the class to flirt a bit more and maybe you’ll finally agree to go on a date.

“Gorgeous! Wait up for me!” he yelled at you, but you were luckily faster than him and got out of the classroom before he could catch you. You did see him spot you in the hallway though, so you ran without even looking where you were going.

You turned to the left into another hall with a couple of doors. You tried to open the first one but it was locked, you tried the second one but quickly realized it was the boy’s bathroom— because a boy inside fixing his jeans looked at you with a horrifying look on his face and stared to yell at you to get out.

You heard Jason calling out your name, so you quickly entered the third door and closed it behind you.

You heard his footsteps slowing down.

“Hey, princess! Where did you go!” you heard him continue walking further into the hall and away from your hiding place.

You sighed.

“Caaann we help you?” a voice behind you asked.

You turned around and saw a full table of people staring at you weirdly.

“Oh- sorry, I didn’t know you guys were here”

“You didn’t see the sign on the door that said ‘do not enter’?” a younger boy asked you a little annoyed.

“Actually no, I was kind of in a hurry to… hide from somebody” you confessed.

“Who?”

“Jason Carver”

“Wait, I know you” The guy at the end on the table spoke, whom you did know too, Eddie. He said your name to confirm he did actually know who you were.

“The one and only”

“Why would you even run away from Jason Carver? Isn’t he like every girl in here’s dream boy?” The same annoyed boy asked you again, you recognized him as Nancy Wheeler’s brother… Mike was it?

“What, him? Disgusting, he’s been trying to make a move on me even before him and Chrissy broke up, so now he’s even more annoying” you told them.

“Alright, we’re kind of in the middle of something here-“ an older guy started but Eddie cut him off.

“He’s been annoying you too?”

“What? Did he try something on you too?” you joked.

“What- no! I mean that Chrissy has been flirting with me nonstop as well since they broke up, I already told her no, but she keeps trying to convince me”

“You rejected Chrissy Cunningham?”

“I ask myself that same question everyday” another guy commented, a curly-headed one.

“No! I don’t mean it in a mean way, it’s just- I thought every guy wanted to date Chrissy Cunningham”

“She’s only trying to use me to get back at Jason- you know what? Doesn’t matter. Just a funny coincidence that the same couple is annoying both of us” Eddie explained.

“Yeah, how funny” you said in a sarcastic tone. “Look, you can continue with your board game, I just need to hide for a few minutes until Jason finally leaves”

A few guys sigh in annoyance, but Eddie nods and signals a chair near him so you can sit.

“So… wait- you’re both trying to get out of Chrissy and Jason’s flirting with you?” the curly-headed guy speaks again.

Eddie and you nod.

“And you’ve both already rejected them?”

You two nod again.

“But they won’t listen?”

Again.

“Huh”

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, I just… thought of something funny”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Well, if this was one of those rom-coms my sister always watches, you could both start acting like you’re dating each other. That way both of them leave you two alone” he comments.

“Act like we’re dating?”

“Yeah, how would that even work?”

“Well, in those movies they usually act like an actual couple, like, maybe you could have lunch together in the cafeteria, or walk each other to your classes, come to school together, things like that” he explains.

“Umm- I don’t really see that working, they would see right through” you say.

“Yeah, how we even start dating in this fantasy? We’ve barely spoken before” Eddie comments.

“Yeah, it doesn’t make any sense”

“Okay, I don’t really care about this so, are we gonna continue the campaign? Because otherwise I could use the free time” Mike interrupts and Eddie is brought back to reality to continue with the game.

A few days after all of that, you were in the cafeteria trying to find your group of friends but you don't seem to find them anywhere in there, maybe they're still grabbing lunch.

"Hey you! I can finally talk to you again, you've been really busy lately, I barely see you anymore!" Jason corners you right when you're about to sit at a free table.

"Hi Jason... yeah, I've been -busy with school, you know?"

"Yeah I understand, you know I've been having a hard time with Spanish this semester, and I know you're very good at it" he starts and you fear where he's going with this.

"Yeah, I wouldn't say very good, you know Rachel Stinson? She's much better than me, the best in our class!"

"Yeah, but I don't really know her. Plus I think you'd be a better teacher than her, and a cuter one as well" he says giving you a smirk, very proud of his response.

"Eddie, look" Gareth tells Eddie and signals to where you stand with Jason, looking very uncomfortable.

"Fuck, yeah. He's definitely asking her out again" he comments.

"You could... help her"

"How? Is this about your little plan?"

"I'm just saying, you would totally save her and you'd like that if that was you and Chrissy instead of her and Jason" he points out. Eddie thinks about it for a few seconds. Gareth is right: he would be grateful if he didn't have to come up with another excuse to Chrissy.

Fuck it, he's already walking up to you two.

"Jason I don't..." you start but someone interrupts.

"Hi pretty girl, I haven't seen you all day"

You turn and see Eddie.

"What?" you ask confused but you see him blink at you and you remember what his friend told you about. "Oh! Hi Eddie, I didn't see you there"

"Have you been avoiding me, princess?" he asks with a smirk while putting his hands on your waist.

"I could never!" you say and put your hands on his shoulders.

"Um... hi?" Jason interrupts you two.

"Hi Jason?" Eddie greets him with a wondering tone, "Oh, we're you talking to him, baby?"

"Oh no, he was just telling me that he's having trouble with Spanish" you explain.

"Oh yeah, she's great at Spanish, good thing I have her as a personal teacher" Eddie comments quickly catching on.

"You're teaching him?" Jason asks you.

"Yeah, for like a month already I think"

"Thanks to this pretty little thing right here, I have a B in Spanish now"

"Wait, I- I'm confused, what are you two?" Jason asks with a frown on his face.

"Well, we haven't really put a title to it... but we've been seeing each other for a few weeks now" you explain.

"Seeing each other? As in... dating?" he asks again.

"Can you believe it? The prettiest girl in Hawkins gave me a chance" Eddie says and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"I can't believe it" Jason murmurs.

You hear your name being called from behind you, you turn and finally see your friends with surprised and confused faces looking at this scene.

"Hey girls, finally," you greet them, "Eddie, I'll see you later, yeah?" you say to him getting a little too close to his face to emphasize the flirting.

"Mhm, please" he adds and lets you go.

"Bye Jason" you quickly say to him and then walk over to your friends to explain everything.

Later that day, you were quick to find Eddie before he got into his van to leave.

"Hey, Eddie!" He turned around and waited till you got closer. "I just wanted say thank you for helping me today with Jason, you really saved me there"

"No problem, really. I'm still surprised it actually worked" he comments.

"Yeah," you laugh, "either Jason's really stupid or we're really good actors"

"A bit of both maybe" he laughs.

"Anyways, thanks for today, I owe you one" you finally say, and start walking away.

"Wait" Eddie stops you after a few seconds, "Maybe we could actually do what Gareth said"

"Which one was Gareth again?" you ask.

"The one with all the curls, he told us to act like we're dating" he explained.

"Oh, yeah. Umm, I mean it really worked. Jason left me alone for the rest of the day"

"We can try it on Chrissy next time and see if she buys it"

"Yeah, sure" you say with a smile.

"Do you need a ride? We can maybe work out the details on the way" he offers and you accept.

--

"So the story would be that I started tutoring you in Spanish and then started dating" you confirm.

"Yeah, that seems believable. Do we need any rules for this?"

"Like what?"

"Like... boundaries, I don't know"

"Yeah umm, well obviously no real intimacy, we should communicate openly to avoid misunderstandings, umm what else?" you list.

"How long are we gonna do this for?" he asks.

"Maybe we should see how it goes, I don't want to say that we should do it for the rest of the year, so maybe until both of them are no longer interested in us" you propose.

"Yeah, that's good. What about physically?"

"Umm well, the hugging was fine, flirting obviously. I don't know, what couples do"

"Kissing?" he asks.

"I guess we would have to do it eventually to seem believable" you say.

"Yeah, totally"

The next day Eddie came to find you in your locker.

"Are you ready to start, girlfriend?" he jokes.

"Yeah, sure... boyfriend"

He walks you to class, you sit together in the classes you share, you start doing everything together that morning.

Eddie and you are walking to his locker and when he opens it, a note falls from it. He grabs it and reads:

Meet me in the woods at lunch. -C

He sighs.

"Guess we're having lunch together too" you say.

"Yup, seems like it" he confirms.

And you sit at the Hellfire table next to him. Eddie explains to the guys what you two are doing and Gareth has a big smile because he was right, his plan actually worked.

After like 20 minutes, Chrissy shows up in the cafeteria.

"Eddie! There you are!" she walks up to your table and you quickly sit closer to him. "Didn't you get my note?"

"Note? Oh, I totally forgot Chrissy. Guess this one here distracted me" he blames you with a sweet tone.

"I did not!" you say giggling a little.

"Oh, I didn't know you were in hellfire" Chrissy says to you.

"Oh, I'm not, I just wanted to have lunch with him" you explain to her while you play a little with Eddie's hair.

Chrissy frowns, clearly not understanding anything that's going on.

"Sorry Chrissy, what did you want though?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wanted to ask you if you're doing something this weekend, maybe we could go see a movie?" she proposes.

"Oh, I'm sorry I already made plans with her," he puts his arm around your shoulders "right, sweetheart?"

"Yeah sorry, he's all mine this weekend" you joke and give him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, I didn't know you two were..."

"Dating? Yeah" you finish her sentence.

"Huh, well... congrats!" she says with a fake smile on and walks away.

"That was quite a show" one of Eddie's friends says. You should really ask Eddie for their names, it seems like you're going to spend more time with them than before.

As the week continued, your acting did too. Jason wasn’t bothering you as much, and if he did you just gave him the excuse that Eddie was waiting for you and walked away.

But on the second week you started to notice Jason’s stares while you were with Eddie, either at lunch, or class, talking in some hall. Anywhere. It was like he was studying or analyzing, looking for something between you two.

When you told Eddie about this, he said you would have to be yet more believable. So far you’ve only been flirting or close to each other if Chrissy or Jason were around.

But now you’re acting for the whole school. If one of Jason’s friends sees you two a little distant, they would tell him right away.

Right now, you two were standing in front of the door of your next class, a class you share with Jason. You were just standing there, talking closely to each other.

“The short one with the curls is Dustin, and his friend, the tall one with black hair is Mike” he said to you sweetly. From the outside it looked way more romantic.

“Wheeler, right?” you confirm.

“Yeah, exactly!” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, I figured because he looks just like his sister, Nancy” you told him, looking up at him lovingly.

“Yeah, is true…”

“Oh, Jason is coming” you tell Eddie as soon as you see him.

“Ok, do you trust me on this?” he asks and you’re a bit confused but you still nod anyway.

When Eddie is able to hear footsteps behind him, figuring it was Jason, he grabs your face with the one hand that wasn’t on your waist, pulls you closer to him and gives you a sweet kiss on the lips.

It wasn’t very long or short, just the right time for you to feel his soft lips on yours, feel his soft touch on your cheek. Just the right time for you to hold your breath for a second because your mind became so occupied by him that you just forgot.

Who would have thought Eddie Munson could be so sweet? Not you.

For a second there you also forgot why he had kissed you in the first place. But thanks to Jason you fell back to reality, since he walked right next to you two to enter the classroom while clearing his throat a little too loud.

-

“Why is Jason looking at our table so angrily?” One of the kids asks while sitting down. Lucas, you learned his name was.

“I may have kissed the girl he likes in front of him and now it seems like he’s pretty angry” Eddie explains with a smirk.

“You’re kissing now?” Dusting asks.

“Yeah, I mean we had to, he was already suspecting something”

“Lucas is right though, why is he still looking at us like that?” you notice.

“Are you done eating?” Eddie asks you.

“Yeah”

“Come here” he pulls his chair back to have more space between him and the table and pats his thigh.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit here with me, let’s actually give him something to stare at”

“I am sitting here with you, you’re asking me to sit on you” you tell him.

“Sweetheart, please. I know it will work, it will make him even angrier” he convinces you somehow and you end up sitting on his lap.

“Well, if you’re gonna do it, you should be more convincing” Gareth corrects.

“How?” you ask annoyed.

“Loose the attitude, you want them to think you like Eddie so much that you need to be as close as possible to him at all times, and right now you look like you hate this and you want to run away from him” Gareth explains.

“Wait, do you?” Eddie asks concerned.

“No! No, it’s fine,” you comfort him and adjust yourself on him, sitting more casual, as if you do this all the time, “Better?”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s ok”

“Hey, I was meaning to ask you,” Eddie starts, everyone at the table went back to their own conversation so he’s only talking to you now. “you can totally say no, because it wouldn’t be at school, and I don’t know, we haven’t really discussed if we’re still doing this outside of school-“

“Eds, you’re rambling. Just tell me, what is it?” you cut him off.

“Well, you know I’m in a band with the boys and we’re playing this Thursday, so Chrissy came up to me today and told me that she was looking forward to Thursday because she was planning on coming to see us play, to see me” he explains.

“Oh” you cringe. “I’ll go too”

“Really? I don’t want to force you or anything, you’re already doing this here at school, wouldn’t want to bother you outside as well”

“Eds, I’m not just doing this, you’re helping me here too,” you tell him with a smile, he can be really cute sometimes. “It’s not trouble at all, I didn’t have any plans for Thursday night anyway”

“Thanks, really” he says.

“Besides, it would be weird if you’re playing with your band and your girlfriend wasn’t there to see you front row. Kind of suspicious, don’t you think?” you joke.

“Definitely suspicious, but your boyfriend will buy you a drink anyway for the trouble” he says and you feel like there’s a flirty tone in his voice, but… no, it couldn’t be. Nor Jason or Chrissy were around to listen.

Either way, you don’t know if it is because of how close his face is to yours right now, the possible flirty tone he’s using, calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, or because of the stupid kiss he gave you before that you can’t seem to stop thinking about, but you’re feeling a strong desire to have his lips on yours again. 

And you’re kind of acting on autopilot right now, but your faces are already realllly close, your hand comes up to meet his cheek, he’s not pulling away or looking at you weirdly, so you do it. Your lips meet his in a short kiss, a sweet and delicate one.

But as soon as your lips separate and you look at him in the eyes, you panic.

“Uh I- I’m sorry, J –Jason was… looking at us again and –I kind of just-“ you start but he interrupts.

“It’s fine,” he laughs at your nervousness, “We’re dating, remember? So it’s normal that we kiss. Besides, I don’t really mind kissing you, sweetheart”

Thursday night came along and here you were with Corroded Coffin getting some drinks before it was their moment to play. You were a bit exited to see Eddie play, you weren’t going to lie.

“Eddie! Hii!” you hear Chrissy greeting— only him —behind you and so it was show time for you two. If this was a movie, it would be the director shouting ‘action.’

“Hey Chris” Eddie greets her back while pulling your chair closer to him subtly.

“Oh I’m so excited to see you play, have you seen him yet?” she asks you.

“No, it would be my first time. I’m really excited too!” you explain to her but you look at Eddie with a smile during that last sentence.

“Oh it’s like you’re dating a rockstar! I’m so jealous!” she jokes… I think? But you laugh anyway.

“Guys, you can start in five minutes” the bartender lets the guys know that they can go up stage already.

It’s just a few minutes of alone time with Chrissy once they guys go, but luckily they start pretty fast and all of your attention is on the stage, or on one of the people on stage anyway.

And you have to admit, you didn’t really know what to expect, metal music isn’t really your type of music and you didn’t know if the guys would be really good.

But they surprised you completely, even if it’s not the music you usually go for, the show was great. And they all played so good, you can tell they take this pretty seriously.

Eddie was completely mesmerizing on the guitar and after every guitar solo he played, you were there cheering for him so proudly. Along with a couple of other girls your age, you couldn’t help but notice.

Once they finish and come down the stage back to you, you were the first one to go give Eds a big hug.

And you’re going to excuse yourself because Chrissy was right next to you waiting to congratulate Eddie too, but as soon as you two separate a little from the hug you take the chance and give him a good kiss that has all of his friends cheering as well.

This time it wasn’t a shy or short kiss. You had one arm around his neck and the other you used to grab his face by his cheek. He was already with his arms around your waist, but when he felt your lips on his, he pulled you in even closer.

And when you cut the kiss you look at him with an audacious look. “You were completely amazing”

A big smile forms on his face after your words and that kiss. “Thank you, baby”

An hour passed, you’ve all been drinking a little more, but luckily no one was actually drunk yet.

Chrissy had gone outside since one of her friends joined her and both went out for a smoke. So you and Eddie didn’t have to act anymore, he had gone closer to the bar with Gareth and you stayed talking to Jeff.

After a while, you excused yourself to go grab another drink, that’s when you see him again. But he wasn’t with Gareth. No, he was talking to another girl, one of the girls you saw cheering for him.

She was wearing a Black Sabbath cropped shirt with a little black skirt and boots, black hair with some red strands. Which made you feel… uncomfortable, like a little squeeze in your chest. She looked just like Eddie’s type.

Every time she laughed she would lean closer to him, and take the chance to touch his arms or chest.

He didn’t seem uncomfortable though, he was laughing too, having a blast. And you felt yourself getting angrier.

“Eds” you interrupt them, “sorry, I’m gonna steal him for just a second”

“What’s up?” he asks once you’re a few steps further from this girl.

“I just saw Chrissy getting inside the bar again. I’m sorry, but it would be weir if she saw you flirting with another girl” You lie… but just a little white lie, I mean, Chrissy could actually walk in again at any minute and see him with this other girl. Imagine the mess.

“Oh, yeah that would be weir” luckily he agrees, “thanks”

“Do you wanna go over there? I was chatting with Jeff” you propose.

“Yeah, I’ll be you with in a second, just let me apologize to this other girl”

“Yeah sure, and can you get me another drink while you’re there?” you ask him with a smile.

“Of course”

After a few minutes he meets you and Jeff. “Here’s your drink, princess”

“Thank you, how much was it?”

“Don’t worry” he says.

“No, come on. You already bought a drink for me, let me pay for this one” you insist.

“Buut I wanted to buy you another one, so let me” he says with a smile.

“Alright, but we’ll share this one”

After a couple of minutes of talking with the boys, Chrissy still didn’t show up and you were a little nervous he would discover your lie.

But thankfully, after ten minutes, she and her friend came back inside, walking right over to you. Eddie sees them too, his arm was already around you, plus you were both sharing a drink so you didn’t worry.

“Guys, we were gonna head home already” she announces. For a second there you were cursing internally fearing that once she left, Eddie would go back to the girl from before.

“Oh yeah, maybe we could head off as well, right sweetheart?” he asks you.

“Yeah, sure” you agree with a smile. Luck was on your side today.

You greet everyone and Eddie drives you home.

“Thank you for coming today, really”

“It was really fun. You really were amazing up there, I didn’t just say that because Chrissy was there” you confess.

“Thank you, and I’m glad you had fun, maybe –um, you could come again next time, if –if you want” he proposes a little nervously.

“I’d like that, count me in”

“Great” a little smile forms on his face from your words.

“You know… you’re not what I thought you’d be like” you confess, maybe you were tipsier than you thought.

“What? A freak?” he says and it breaks your heart a little that that is the first thing he thinks.

“No, just… a little scary maybe”

“Am I not scary?” he looks at you acting threatening.

“No, not at all” you laugh, “you’re really funny and really sweet actually, like a teddy bear—TEDDIE!”

“I’m not a teddy bear!” he defends.

“You are, a really cute one” you say without even thinking, and you don’t see this but Eddie blushes hard from your comment.

“Thank you, princess”

“You know Jason calls me princess all the time too?”

“Oh –sorry”

“No, I actually like when you call me that. When he does it is disgusting, but when you do it its actually nice… it’s weird” you ramble a little.

“Well, I’m glad you like it when I do it because I like calling you that, it suits you” he says, “We’re here sweetheart, do you need help getting to bed?”

“Eddie!” you laugh at his question, “you know it’s only acting, we can’t actually sleep together!”

“I didn’t mean it like that” he laughs a little at your reaction, but you see his cheeks also turn red, “I meant if you need help to walk, or go up the stairs?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, thanks” you give him a kiss on the cheek, “Bye, thank you for driving me”

“Bye princess” he greets you with a smile.

--

The next day it was hellfire Friday, you walked with Eddie to the drama room where the guys were waiting for him. You weren’t going to stay, you just walked him to say bye to the boys and then go home.

“Ok, I should get going now. Bye everyone!” you greeted them and they greeted back. “Bye Eddie” you turned around to see him and gave him a smile.

“Bye sweetheart, see you next week” he gave you a hug and off you went.

“Wow, she walked you all the way here just to say bye?” Dustin noticed. “Even without Chrissy or Jason in the room you still seem to be acting”

Before Eddie could answer, he noticed that Mike and Lucas are practically biting their tongue to hold their laughs.

“It was nothing, she just said goodbye, what was so romantic about that?” Eddie explains.

“Last night at the bar they were both extra sweet with each other, even when Chrissy wasn’t around” Jeff joins in the teasing as well.

“They were?” Dusting asks concerned which seems to only be worse for Mike and Lucas since their faces are now fully red and with tears forming in their eyes.

“What’s up with you two?” Eddie finally asks them.

“Guys, stop please” Dustin complains to them, but this only makes them start screaming in laughter.

“You don’t realize?” Mike manages to say between laughs.

“You’re making little Dusty here soooo jealous” Lucas explains.

“Stooop” Dustin complains again.

“What do you mean ‘jealous’?” Eddie asks confused.

“He’s had a big crush on your fake girlfriend since he first saw her” Mike explains.

“God, I hate you two” Dustin tells them.

“Oh… you have?” Eddie asks him.

“I’s not like I’m waiting to get a chance with her, I know it would never happen, but it’s just –weird to see you kissing her and all of that” he explains himself. Eddie feels a little bad for him, but at the same time it bothers him a bit that Dustin has a crush on you. It’s like… you’re his, Eddie’s. It’s obvious you would never look at Dustin in a romantic way, he’s way too young. And it’s not like you and Eddie are a thing, you’re just acting, but it’s weir for him to know one of his friends has a thing for you.

And since that day—Eddie would never actually confess he’s doing this—but every time, after Chrissy or Jason would walk out after seeing you two all romantic, and you would move over and go back to your conversation with Dustin, he would come up with something to get your attention back on him.

Again, he would never actually confess he does this, it makes him feel like a little kid. Jealous of a literal fifteen year old, when he’s 20.

The following week felt different. The dynamics between you and Eddie had shifted since your fake romance began. Every stolen glance, every scripted touch, all the playful banter—they'd unconsciously started to blur the lines between acting and genuine affection.

Late at night, you find yourself replaying those moments. Holding hands while walking, his arm around your shoulder at any given time, every kiss, how fucking soft his lips were all the time, making you want to kiss them every second you’re around him. And when you’re not around him? You’re thinking of them, of him. Finding yourself actually missing his company.

Would Eddie feel the same? Does he miss having you around? Does he want your lips on his all the time like you do?

You were considering just killing yourself if he didn’t actually felt any of these things. Imagine the embarrassment it would be to have fallen for someone you’re pretending to date, and him feeling completely indifferent towards you. You’d have to move out of the country.

Thanks to these thoughts you were feeling a little uncomfortable around Eddie, so you started to—you wouldn’t say avoiding him—but trying not to be so close to him all the time. Until he started to notice you were being different around him.

One day, he decided to ask you about this. If it was really happening or if it was all in his head.

Because, if he was honest, he did start to overthink things when it came to you. You made him so nervous lately, he just wants to do everything right with you.

He was looking for you everywhere, even started to ask random people if they saw you today. A guy told him he had seen you going to the library a few minutes ago. And when he went to check, bingo. Finally he found you.

"Hey, there you are" he greeted you.

"Oh Eddie, what are you doing here?" he noticed your sudden nervousness. Fuck, what if he had done something to upset you?

"I was looking for you, I wanted to talk for a second"

"Now is not a really good time, you should get going, I'll find you later"

"Why?" he asks a little offended

"I think I saw-"

"Princess!" Jason finds you as well.

"...Jason" you whisper to Eddie finishing your sentence a little too late now.

"Oh and her apparent... prince" Jason comments referring to Eddie.

"Apparent?" he asks him.

"Jason, what do you want?" you ask annoyed.

"Why so defensive? You look way better with a smile on that pretty face" Jason started. "Is he bothering you?"

"No, I'm not!" Eddie answers. "Am I, sweetheart?"

"No, of course you're not" you lie for the sake of your fake relationship. Even though right now, they're both bothering you.

"See Jason, she was fine until you came, so why don't you go?" Eddie tells him while wrapping you in his arms. Fuck, you can already feel the stupid butterflies.

"Princess, I can tell when you're lying. Tell me and I'll take him off of you... with pleasure" Jason tells you.

"Jason, I’m fine!”

“Come here baby” Eddie said taking you to one of the tables away from Jason.

“Thanks, he’s so annoying I swear… Eds?” you started complaining but he wasn’t playing attention, still looking over at where Jason stands.

“He’s still staring at us, giving me looks” he complains. He looks back at you and brings you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you again.

“Eds…”

“Let me just do this” he finally says before kissing you. He gives you a sweet kiss. One where your lips are dance together until you someone interrupts.

“Excuse me?” The lady of the library says a little offended. “You can’t come here and do that, I’m going to have to ask you to leave”

“What?” you ask confused, but before you can even comprehend what’s happening, Eddie grabs your hand and starts running deeper into the library.

“Excuse me?!” You hear the lady from far away now.

Eddie turns in a random aisle and runs with you until you reach the end of the hall.

“Shhh” he says to you and tries to listen if the lady has followed you two or not, “I think we’re clear”

“Why was it necessary to run from her? She’s like 60” you complain.

“What is your deal today?” he asks.

“What?” you act as if you don’t know what he means.

“Why are you so annoyed?”

“It’s just… Jason, he puts me in a bad mood”

“That’s not true, you wanted me to leave you alone even before he showed up”

“I don’t have a deal, I don’t know what you mean”

“I think you do, and not just today, you’ve been weird with me for days now”

“Weird how?” you ask.

“You’re more distant. And I get it if you don’t want to be hanging out all day, but… you weren’t like that before” he explains.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would care so much” now you feel bad.

“You’re crazy if you think I wouldn’t care or wouldn’t notice. We’ve been hanging out nonstop for weeks now”

“A month and a half actually” you correct him.

“Has it been that much already?”

“Yeah” you laugh, “One would think they’d get over us by now and let it go” you joke referring to Jason and Chrissy.

“We’re too attractive and so interesting” he jokes but he says it with a straight face, as if it really was a struggle. And this makes you laugh harder.

“Shh” he laughs too. “She’s gonna find us”

“She’s another one who’s also jealous of us, that’s why she wanted us to stop kissing and kick us out” you joke.

“I bet she is, we have to be more careful. We’re too much of a power couple”

“Yeah”

“See, I missed this” he explains. “If I overstepped one time and didn’t realize, I’m sorry, or-“

“No, no, Eddie you didn’t do anything, it wasn’t your fault”

“Then what was it?” he asks.

"This whole pretending-to-be-dating thing… it's made me realize some stuff" you confess.

Your heart started racing, you were actually telling him.

"What stuff?" he could feel the gravity in her words.

"That maybe… maybe I'm not just pretending anymore" you finally say, looking at the ground, you fear if you look at him, it would make you even more nervous.

His gaze was fixed on you, his breath caught in his throat. The air suddenly felt charged, unspoken emotions crackling between you two. "Me too" Eddie admitted, barely above a whisper.

Your eyes are quick to look up at him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over you. "You feel the same?"

Eddie nods, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I didn't think you would too. I thought you wanted to end all this agreement actually”

You shake your head with a smile.

“Come here” he says and you move closer to him, his hands on your cheeks, bringing your face slowly closer to his. Your hands set on his chest, just because you needed to touch him, to feel him.

His lips crash into yours. You have kissed before but this somehow felt like your first kiss, ever. It wasn’t like any other kiss he had given you before, this was more passionate and romantic all at once.

"I guess all that acting wasn't so pretend after all" Eddie chuckles softly, after you pull away.

"It seems we're not really good actors” you reply, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

Eddie took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Would you… maybe want to go out for real? No more acting, just… us?"

A rush of emotions flooded you as you look into Eddie's eyes. "I'd love that" you reply, heart pounding with newfound excitement.

[darkestspring]

headcanon to aemond obsessed with his half sister (daughter of Aemma and Viserys), please

you were the king and late queen's second daughter, born five years after your sister rhaenyra.

You had been dubbed The Realm's Joy. A nickname you never really paid attention to. You were the apple of the people’s eyes. You were a young girl with all the kindness in the world mixes with the softest tone.

For all intents and purposes, you were a kind girl who loved those around her and none was loved more than your mother. Your sister was rebellious and brave, you were soft and sweet, like your mother. You spent most of your time reading with your head in your mother’s lap as you took in all the teachings both she and your septa gave you.

you were a mere two years old when your mother died, and you would not understand until you were older why Rhaenyra and your father cried with you when you sobbed out for your mother. you didn’t understand why they were simply hug you when you cried out for your mother. Your mother was gone, you would never see her again, only in memories and dreams.

It was only a few months later that your father would remarry, urged by the council using your name in this method (the young princess needs a mother, otto hightower had confided in your father, she is merely two years old. She needs a gentle hand to guide her from a child to a full fledged princess.) and your father had chosen a lady who had shown him kindness, he was confident that she would raise you well beside him.

The news of her best friend marrying her father had come as a shock to rhaenyra, especially as she saw you babble sleepily into her father’s shoulder before you were handed over to Alicent. Their new stepmother.

As you grew a year older, only a few months after you turned four years old, your younger brother Aegon was born. A boy that shared your features, white hair and purple eyes. A boy that you adored. Even as a child who’s time was monopolized by her older sister, who could not bring herself to like Aegon, and her father, who adored her and her sister above all, she loved her younger siblings, bringing them little trinkets, carrying them around and playing with them.

You had picked out the egg for Aegon’s crib, much to Alicent’s gratitude and Otto’s approval. You had done the same for Helaena, Aemond and even Daeron.

you were seven years old when Aemond was born and you had cared for him above all. Nine year old Aegon had pouted restlessly as you held baby Aemond in your arms as you sang to him in high valyrian.

With all the care you gave Aemond, it wasn’t strange that he totted after you, hating to leave your side, something that pleased Alicent and Otto incredibly. In their minds, with all your care towards them, you would side with Aegon once your father died.

Even if you were oblivious to it all as you focused on your own studies and caring for your family, changes were brewing. It was certain when rumors sprung that Rhaenyra and Daemon had been spotted in a whore house. Then Rhaenyra was engaged to your cousin, Laenor. You had opted to stay behind with Alicent, as boats made you sick. She had appreciated your care. A sweet girl you were. You had been there when the declaration had been made, your step mother, caring and loving and kind, entered in a green dress, in contrast to her usual red dresses. You had looked at your sister with a confused look, being only eleven years old and she had been quick to soothe you.

even as you grew from a young child, to a young princess, more children were born. your nephew, jacaerys, and your younger brother, daeron, were both born when you were eleven, in 114 ac. you second nephew, lucerys, born only a year later, a few weeks after your nameday, and your third nephew, joffrey, was born two years after that, you had been fourteen.

One things had not changed through the years, you remained a soft and lovely girl, the reincarnation of queen Aemma, the whispers had said as you accompanied your stepmother and half-sister on walks, as you walked with Aegon, even as you talked excitedly with Aemond as he watched you with an awed look in his eyes. You were compared to your mother especially as you carried baby Daeron in your arms.

It had all come to a head when your good aunt-cousin died in 120 AC when you were 17. You had all headed to driftmark for the funeral, you had softly spoken to your uncle of your condolences as he had patted your head gently in thanks before you moved on to drift back to your father’s side. It had worsened in the night when you had woken to commotion and drowsily walked towards a lit room to find Aemond bleeding with one closed eye in a chair and your two nephews jace and luke also bleeding.

“Aemond, Jace, Luke!” You had gasped in horror, running over to Aemond, seeing as he was the most injured. Alicent’s hand reached fro your own and your heart throbbed at seeing her teary eyes.

“Sister.” Aemond had called out, his other hand reaching out for you and you gently grabbed his hand. “Sister, i claimed Vhagar.”

You had gasped at that, smiling at him. Ever since it became clear that his egg would not hatch, you had encouraged him to claim his own dragon “I’m happy for you, brother.”

Yells and shouts had mixed together and when your sister had insisted that aemond be strictly questioned on why he referred to her sons as strongs, your brows had furrowed. Aemond had already been maimed, all he needed to do was rest.

“Father, Aemond has been mortally injured.” You injected, your face pinched together in sorrow. How could your sister insist that? “Please allow the maesters to tend to him and let him rest. The same must happen to Jace and Luke, they are also injured. Father please.” Aemond, Alicent and Otto had all stared at you. You had defended Aemond over your own sister, it was a win for the greens in their eyes.

You father, moved by your tears had agreed and the matter had been settled. Rhaenyra left to dragonstone, where she married your uncle, much to your father’s rage. You, despite Rhaenyra’s insistence that you come with her as she was her sister, returned to King’s Landing with your father and family.

You wouldn’t see her for another seven years and you grew from a beautiful seventeen year old, to a stunning twenty three year old. Your hair was always decorated with flowers, even as you took ride on Silverwing with Aemond on Vhagar not very far away.

You had been overjoyed by seeing your sister again while Aemond had been less than pleased and he had made his place in your bed like he had when he was younger, taking advantage of your comfort as he rested his head on your chest and listened to your heartbeat. It’s okay, he needs only to be patient for a little longer.

Aemond had gone to his mother and grandfather with a request. Allow me to marry my older sister, Princess [Y/N].

Alicent had been hesitant but overjoyed. Her two favorite children marrying? it would be a dream come true but Helaena was not happy in her marriage, she did not want to make the same mistake twice. Otto had agreed easily, taking the proposal to the king, who had deliriously agreed.

Aemond had gone to train as you had greeted your older sister. “Sister, Uncle.” You had smiled at them, as soft as you had always been. You were the spitting image of your mother, all soft and kind and sweet. It had pained Rhaenyra to be parted from you. She knew what sort of things Aemond was doing, going into your room and taking your things, sleeping in your bed. Following you around when you didn’t notice. Vile acts towards her beloved sister.

You had departed from her , going about your daily duties, you were not to attend the audience, by request of your stepmother and you had all too easily agreed as you spent your time in the gardens, picking flowers for your stepmother and helaena.

“Sister.” A deep voice had interrupted your time and you looked up, smiling sweetly as you made your way towards Aemond. “Father wishes to have a dinner tonight, come, I will escort you.” He held out his hand towards you but you had gestured towards the flowers.

“I will need to drop the flowers off and wash my hands free of dirt, sweet brother.” You had chuckled gently as he nodded and guided you away. It was a quick trip and then the both of you were on your way.

Everyone had looked up as you entered, your arms hooked with Aemond and he had guided you towards your seat and took his spot besides you.

It had been a dull affair until the toasts began. He rose his glass. “I’d like to raise a toast to my lovely sister, [Y/N].” He seemed satisfied as other rose their glasses as you smiled at him. “Who is to become my sister-wife by decree of our father.”

You had blinked at him, you lips parting but your father had smiled proudly at Aemond so you gently smiled as well. It would not be bad to be married to Aemond, he was kind and gentle.

Rhaenyra grit her teethas Daemon grabbed her hand gently. Alicent had stolen her mother’s place, and now Aemond was going to steal her beloved sister. Where would it end?

Aemond had seemed satisfied with the anger within the blacks as he leaned over to kiss your cheek. “I look forward to our life together, my sweet soon-to-be wife.”

[jimblejamblewritings]

love letters and second sons | part 2.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

Eloise left to go right across the street while you followed the rest of the family into the dining room. It had been so long since you had a formal sit down breakfast with your family. Your siblings just couldn’t be bothered to come from wherever they were — sometimes in the same house but they still didn’t show. Your father and mother couldn’t make it most of the time. The dining room table could be very lonely sometimes. 

You thanked Colin as he pulled out a chair for you before sitting down. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you passed the decorated teapot to Daphne before reaching for the small jug of cream. The Bridgertons were very invested in palace life and wanted to know whatever you were allowed to tell them about. You looked up from your coffee when Eloise came back with Penelope Featherington. 

Smiling at Penelope, you handed her the box so you wouldn’t forget before you left. Her face dropped. 

“What is it?” 

“Oh, I don’t want to burden the princess with frivolous matters. We have an addition to our house. My cousin, Marina Thompson has come to stay for the season. But no matter, she can wear my dress. I have plenty already.” 

You shook your head. “No matter how frivolous they may be, your problems are the Crown’s problems. I will return tomorrow with another dress for Miss Thompson. Besides, each piece has been chosen specifically for each person. How could Miss Thompson possibly look good in a dress meant to make you look good?” 

Penelope smiled. “Is it alright if I open it here?” 

“Of course, Pen,” Anthony said. 

She carefully placed the lid of the box on the ground and ruffled through the pieces until she found the dress with her name pinned on it. She pulled out a dress of emerald green, just emerald green. No patterns insight. The sleeves were flatter than the balloon sleeves normally worn but that was because they were sheer with beading on them. 

“Wow. It is beautiful.” 

“The princess will be glad to hear that you like it. Now, I am very sorry but I have to go now. A midmorning promenade cannot be missed.” 

Everyone stood up when you did. 

“Well, yes, of course,” Violet said. “Will you return for breakfast tomorrow? Or whenever is a good time for you?” 

You weren’t stupid. Either the Dowager Viscountess wanted your fake persona to marry her son — probably the third son, Colin, since you were a valet. Or she wanted the princess to marry her son. In that case it must have been Anthony. You took your cloak from the footman it put it back on. 

“I shall see if I can appear tomor— this weekend. Before the Danbury ball, the family wants to go to the countryside. I shall be back here then.” 

“Lovely.” 

You stepped outside, taking the alleyways back to the palace. Pandora let out a breath when the painting finally moved. You stepped inside. 

“Have you been here the whole time?” 

“Yes, I have. Was your time outside fun?” 

“Absolutely, I will be doing it again later.” 

“What? Princess, please.” 

“Pandora, you don’t understand. It was amazing. One of the best times of my life.” 

“Y/N. What if your illness st—” 

“Then I shall deal with that when it happens. Oh, I met people. The houses in the ton are very nice.” 

“You went to someone’s house?” Pandora’s voice rose three octaves as she tried to stay quiet. 

“Just the Bridgertons. Their mother is very sweet. She invited me to a recurring breakfast whenever I have the time.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, and the rumors about them are true. The daughters are all beautiful. Their youngest son seems very nice.” 

“And the three eldest boys?” 

“Absolutely handsome. Especially the eldest.” 

The two of you giggled as you kept sharing what they looked like in person while you got ready for your promenade. The gardens were dreadfully boring but you felt better just thinking about going to the Bridgertons house next time. It could have been anyone but you were glad it was a large family and a family friend. Only your first day out and you already became acquainted with two families. That was a success in your book. 

~~~

“Princess! Princess Y/N! Your Highness!” 

You could hear the yelling down the hall. Looking over at your father, you smiled. 

“Thank you for talking with me about the ball, Mr. Jupiter. I think I should let them know I am alive.” 

“Go. I shall still be here.” 

You shimmied out from under the bed, George laughing at you the entire time. The bed wasn’t your favorite place to be but it was your father’s favorite place. You preferred the wardrobe. Swinging open the door, you spotted Brimsley running down the hall. 

“I’m right here!” 

He turned with a quickness. “Oh thank God. The Queen and King are requesting you actually attend breakfast with them instead of in the kitchens or your room.” 

“Father? How could he tell you? He’s right he—” 

“Yes. He usually stays in his wing. He came down earlier this morning.” 

You looked back at your bed. No one was there. George’s feet weren’t sticking out from the end of the bed. You bit your lip and didn’t say anything, choosing just to follow Brimsley to the dining room. If anyone found out you had a fit then there was no hope of your mother letting you go anywhere. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Whenever you were anxious or stressed, a fit was bound to happen. Maybe you should have been taking your medicine. But it didn’t make you feel good at all. Tomorrow you’d ask for a change in medicine or doctor.

Your father looked better when you reached downstairs, actually cognizant, and your mother seemed happy. None of your other siblings were there. Pulling out your chair you sat down. The conversation went in one ear and out the other. You answered where necessary and that was about it. You needed to be perfect. When there was a lull in the talking, you found the perfect opportunity to speak. 

“Mother, may I go to Lady Danbury’s ball?” 

“No.” 

“I promise I will be on my be—” 

“No.” 

“If I have a fit then I will go stra—” 

“Y/N, do not make me repeat myself.” 

“But I just want to know why? All of my brothers and sisters were allowed to introduce themselves well before this age. Why am I still waiting?” 

“Dear, we’ve been over this.” 

“But Edward and Sophia both have the same illness and they were all—” 

“Because no one is as bad as yours!” Charlotte looked up from her plate when you grew silent. She sighed at the sight of your crestfallen face. “Y/N, dear, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m only talking about your illness, not you as a person… give me four months. Four months to prepare everything, then I will let you go, whether an incident happens or not. Just follow the rules and keep yourself safe.” 

“Thank you, Mother. I do have one more question.” 

“Yes?” 

“May I stay at Kew?” 

“Kew?” Both your mother and father said at the same time. 

“I have incidents whether I am here or with Father or by myself. We don’t have strong evidence that anything makes it better or worse. Kew is far enough that I’m not tempted by the city but close enough that I will not miss it. And I can still speak to the people.” 

In reality it’s because your parents never went to Kew. You wanted privacy and to not be under such a watchful eye. And if you could bring your court then absolutely no one would find out that you went into the city. 

Charlotte gave George a look. “Yes, the people do seem to love your letters. Okay, alright. I will allow you to stay at Kew but your father and I and your physician will be coming every Sunday to check on you. Brimsley and Reynolds will be going with you.”  

“Okay.” 

Buckingham wasted no time packing your things and taking them to Kew after the Danbury ball. You flopped onto your bed, happy to be left alone finally. Only half of your court came with you to Kew. The others were “dismissed” for the season — you wouldn’t need them again until you introduced yourself to society. Really you just needed them to stay at Buckingham and report to you what was happening. Naturally, Pandora came to Kew. 

The home looked just the same as when you were younger. The first thing you did was instruct every curtain to be open. The grounds were extensive and private. You weren’t in London but just outside of it. No one could see the place at all so there was no need to hide behind window decorations. 

“I should like dinner outside,” you said as you sat down in the short grassy part of the front lawn. 

“Outside?” 

“Yes. It’s very nice today. I would like to sit outside and eat and plan my new schedule. You and Reynolds can go to the cottage on the grounds. Turn left and you’ll see a bunch of cottages across the stream. Go to the third one. It’s behind a smattering of trees but the hedges there cover everything. You can see people before they see you.” 

“I’m sorry?” Brimsley’s eyes went wide. 

“I’ve known since I was five. I don’t think you two believed that a five year old could be observant but I was.” You turned back to look at him. “Well, I do not care. Brimsley, you should know I couldn’t possibly care about anything like that. With my issues I could never judge someone. Not for what you look like, your class, whoever you choose to pray to which is really none of my business. I don't like to sit in church anyway and much prefer prayer alone in the gazebo. It also doesn't matter who you... share a cottage with."

“Your Highness.” 

“I will keep your secret, Brimsley,” you reassured him. “Besides, when the time comes I will need for you to keep mine.” 

“Secrets? You have secrets? I didn't know... What would I be keeping?” 

“You’ll know it when it happens.” 

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

“Brimsley!” you yelled before he could step inside the house to tell them what you wanted to eat. “About what I said just then.” 

“It is no trouble at all, Your Highness.” 

“No, not my secrets… I would never tell anyone. Whether you kept my secret or not. I promise you that.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I will find a way to make it better.” 

Brimsley gave you a sad smile. “The effort alone is appreciated.” 

You gave him a determined look before returning to making your schedule. You didn’t have a need for full time tutors anymore, having finished formal schooling years ago.

So you put all your special tutors to come on Tuesday and Wednesday, your parents visiting on Sunday, you’d write all your letters on Thursday, and then waste away on Monday, Friday, and Saturday. A schedule your parents greatly approved of as they stated that you needed plenty of days to rest and not overwork yourself before you make the illness worse. Of course you didn’t tell them that those days were for going into the city. 

Monday morning you picked flowers to make a bouquet for the Featheringtons since you had only met one of them in person. Not that you needed it but you opened your book of flowers to see the meanings. You did hope that flower language would catch on more in a few years.

Taking your hand pruning shears, you started cutting both from the garden and the greenhouses. Basil for good wishes. White Carnations to wish a pure love. White Jasmine for amiability. Yellow lilies for happiness. Pink roses also for happiness. Bells of Ireland for good luck. You handed the first set of flowers to Brimsley before starting on individual bouquets for the four young women of the house. 

For Prudence: daisies for innocence, dandelions for faithfulness and happiness, peonies for a happy life and a happy marriage. For Phillippa: dandelions for faithfulness and happiness, fern for sincerity, honeysuckle for bonds of love. For Penelope: lady’s mantle for comfort, lily of the valley for sweetness, wallflower for faithfulness in adversity. For Marina: camellias for affection, lavender roses for enchantment, daffodils for good fortune.

You also collected flowers for the Bridgertons, small individual bouquets. Only two types of flower in each bouquet. For Violet: acacia for friendship and violet for her name.

For Anthony: acalia for temperance and agrimonia for gratitude. For Benedict: balm gentle for pleasantry and bearded crepis for protection. For Colin: chamomile for energy in adversity and coriander for hidden worth. For Daphne: daphne for her name and dandelions for happiness.

For Eloise: elderflower for zealousness and elephant’s ear for good luck. For Francesca: fern leaves for fascination and flower-of-an-hour for delicate beauty. For Gregory: garden chervil for sincerity and geranium, scarlet color, for comfort. For Hyacinth: hawthorn for hope and hyacinth for her name. 

“This should do.” 

“Shall we send them now?” 

“Oh, no, Brimsley. I shall take them with me.” 

“With you?” he squeaked. 

“Yes. I assume now would be a good time as ever to divulge my secret to you and Reynolds. Pandora already knows. I go out to see the ton. I have already done this a few times now.” 

Reynolds and Brimsley looked like they were going to faint. You laughed as you took your cloak from Pandora. You had no concern with anyone finding out since the two men in front were still in the gardens instead of running back to Kew to pen a letter. 

“Please ready the carriage. I’ve already missed breakfast as it is, I don’t want to be any later.” 

The only two things that freaked out your valets even more were entirely your fault as well. Reynolds stuttered through confusion when you refused the mask he was about to hand you. Brimsley actually did faint when you got out of the carriage before reaching the Bridgerton house. You turned around when he came to again. 

“The carriage is too recognizable. Until I get something more plain th—” 

“Just say the princess gave it to you for business affairs!” Brimsely yelled so loudly that you were concerned someone would hear it. 

For a moment you were ready to ignore his plea but then you realized he was right. Plus, you did already set up that poor women and rich women were treated equal in your court — something that was true but you only had three lower class women in your court to begin with. You got back into the carriage, knee bouncing the entire way. 

Peering out the window, you spotted Marshall. He titled his head a bit as you turned around, seemingly scolding someone inside, tilting even more when you walked in the opposite direction of their house. An older woman greeted you at the door of the Featherington home. You repeated the same thing you told Marshall the first time you came to the Bridgerton family. 

“Please come in. They’re in the drawing room, now… Ma’am, a visitor.” 

You curtsied as you entered their drawing room, waving to Penelope. “Hello… Woah, there are a lot of men. I’m sorry I was unaware we had already begun calling.” 

Lady Featherington put on her best smile. “Yes, what is it?” 

“Right. I am the Young Princess’ lady in waiting. She has made bouquets for you all. Well, as well as bouquets for the Bridgertons but rest assured I know exactly which ones belong to you.” 

The Featheringtons looked more than pleased to be receiving flowers after dresses, especially Lady Featherington. All the suitors were looking at them like winning prizes. To be favored by the princess is to have everyone’s hand in your lap and every name on your dance card. You read out what each flower meant and gave them a card that had them written down in case they were to forget. 

“Thank you so much, Miss?” 

“Beckett.”

“Miss Beckett. Please inform the princess that we are forever grateful for such a thoughtful gift. If it is no trouble would you like some biscuits or tea?” 

You decided to stay for a few minutes. Besides, watching suitors fall over their feet to impress women seemed like a very entertaining morning. Thanking the old woman for the tea, you took a sip before setting down the cup when you noticed Colin. He waved to you before making a bored face.

Clearly, he hadn’t been the first one to arrive for calling. You supposed that was the issue with all four of your girls out at once. There was only one drawing room so all of their suitors would have to wait their turn even if they were there for a different girl, at least until Lord Featherington came home and then maybe he could chaperone outside in the garden. You now understood why the Bridgertons were okay with Eloise delaying her debut. Focusing on only one woman is plenty enough.

Daphne had written to you that she had received no callers but none of the other Bridgertons had spoken about calling or the marriage mart at all. You only looked up from the mess of suitors when Eloise arrived, pulling up a chair at the small table you and Penelope were sitting at. Pen tapped your shoulder. 

You looked down at the overgrown rat in her arms. It was your turn to mind the dog that one of the gentlemen calling thought would be appropriate as a gift. Rolling your eyes, you took it anyway and began bouncing it like a child. At least it was a very calm dog. 

Your two friends laughed as you jumped when another gentleman began reciting a poem very loudly. Everyone was starting to fall asleep. His performance was both bad and boring, a combination you were hoping couldn’t be accomplished today. The sound of Lady Featherington’s clapping was the only thing that woke everyone up. She all but pushed the men out, saying the girls had seen enough suitors today. You frowned at her telling the gentlemen to say goodbye to even Penelope. Even? They should just be saying goodbye because she was a lady and in the house. Colin came over to you guys. 

“A most wretched sonnet indeed.” 

You laughed before standing up to leave with him, trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation. The two of them had such a close bond. You were sure that they’d end up with each other. He was probably here for her, waiting for a chance when Marina’s suitors were done. Handing Colin his flowers, you abandoned him for the drawing room of his house — pausing in your tracks when you saw a man you didn’t recognize. 

Violet jumped up along with Hyacinth and Francesca. “Oh, Miss Beckett, hello. We weren’t expecting you after you missed breakfast.” 

“Yes, I was preoccupied with the princess. I’m sorry am I intruding?” 

“No.” Daphne all but ran to meet you. “What do you have with you?”  

“The princess made bouquets.” You leaned in close. “I am very sorry about what Whistledown wrote. You didn’t deserve that. Perhaps flowers can cheer you up?” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“Where are the others? I shall give these to them then promptly return.” 

“Yes, please do,” Daphne said before having to return to her caller. 

Violet took her flowers from you. “Gregory is in the garden or with his brothers. More than likely his brothers. They are either in…” 

“Yes?” 

“Well they are in their rooms but I can’t just let you go in alo— It’s much too dangerous for a woman. The ton wo—” 

“I don’t see why I cannot seeing as I am the princ—” you stopped yourself. “Uh, the princess’ valet. I’m on official business from her and where she can go, I can go.” 

She still seemed unsure. 

“Besides, I am not a lady.” 

At that, Violet let you go upstairs but her face didn’t relax on any of the tension it held. You held onto the wooden railing as you skipped up the steps. You realized that you should have asked Violet which rooms were theirs. But it was too late now. Going back down would just be a matter of inconvenience and take longer in your return to Daphne’s aid. And not to mention, you were a princess. You didn’t need permission to enter anywhere, it was just polite to ask. Opening each door, you sighed in relief when one finally led to a bedchamber with people inside. Anthony looked up, setting down one of his many ledgers. 

“Beckett, what are you doing here?” 

At the sound of your name Gregory, who had been sitting on his older brother’s bed as he engrossed himself in some reading, looked up. “Beckett!”  

You handed them both the bouquets. “Courtesy of the princess, not my doing.” 

They chuckled as they took their bouquets from your arms. You heard the door creak behind you as it opened more. Turning, you came face to face with the second eldest Bridgerton. Benedict smiled. 

“I knew I heard Gregory call for you.” 

“Here. For you.” 

“Thank you. How long will you be staying?” 

“For dinner but then I must leave afterwards. So, what shall we do up here?” 

“Up here?” Anthony raised his eyebrows. “Alone? Miss Beckett, I do not think it… it is improper for us to be alone with you.” 

You scoffed. “Impropriety.”  

“It is true.”

“Firstly, I am not exactly bound by your rules of society. Second, we aren’t alone unless you are insinuating that anything would happen because you either can’t control yourself or are oddly content to share me with your brother.” You enjoyed watching them both stutter through a reply. 

“But if someone were to see us.”

“Does this window face the front of the street?” 

“No.” 

“Can anyone see anything in the back?” 

“No.” 

“Then no one is to see anything. Especially when nothing is happening. And lastly, I am not unchaperoned.”  

“You aren’t?” 

You pointed to the youngest Bridgerton in the room. “Gregory is not a man but a child. Therefore someone who is not an available bachelor is watching and supervising us.” 

He grinned, not even caring that he was called a child. “Yeah. I’m very good at watching.” 

You could do nothing but laugh as you flopped over Anthony’s bed and asked Gregory to hand you a book he was finished with.

Benedict blinked. “I guess I cannot argue with that. I’ll go get my charcoals and come back.” 

“Ah, right, but first let me eavesdrop on Daphne and Nigel. Almost forgot.” 

“Lord Berbrooke?” 

“Don’t make me laugh by giving him a title.”

When you returned, the boys had found their way into a comfortable silence. They barely acknowledged your presence when you sat down. Per Anthony’s request, the door didn’t just stay unlocked or ajar but completely open. Benedict looked away from his paper and at you. 

“What do you mean you aren’t bound by rules of society?” 

“I said your rules.” 

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, then. Our rules."

“The rules of the upper class and the ton. I am bound by royal rules and royal rules only which you’d be surprised to find are very different from the rules of the ton… I should suggest to the princess that she must write about those rules.” 

“And what are royal rules then?” 

“The only one that pertains to you is that it isn’t a crime for a royal or a member of their court to be unchaperoned while around the opposite sex.” 

Violet decided to go upstairs after seeing Lord Berbrooke out their front door, utterly exhausted. She just needed a few moments of rest before going back to Daphne. Passing by her son’s room, she paused. Anthony was at his desk working, Gregory was sitting at the head of the bed reading, you laid flopped across it with several things around you, and Benedict was sitting on the floor leaning against the side of the bed with his art supplies spread out all around. The sight could be considered improper but Violet refused to interrupt. 

“Anthony, come look at Benedict’s work and tell him it is better than he gives himself credit for.” 

Violet watched her son take his ledgers and come sit by Benedict, who had cleared enough of his supplies away for his brother, right underneath where you were laying. Not caring, you rested your chin on top of his head so you wouldn’t lose balance as you pointed to where you liked Benedict’s sketch. You couldn’t help but laugh as Anthony stiffened up for a moment. 

“You’re worse than Brimsley. I already told you that I am not a lady. Calm yourself.” 

“Brimsley?” 

“The Queen’s temporarily former valet. He moved to Kew with us.” 

“The family now stays at Kew?” 

“No, just the princess. It was a gift of sorts as she’s the only child to live there. It is a chance to live alone and like a proper adult before her introduction to society.” 

Gregory became interested once again. “We’ll get to see the princess soon? When?” 

“Roughly four months if all goes well… You know, I must take you all to Kew one day.” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

Violet smiled as she continued heading to her destination. You and Anthony seemed to be headed towards friendship. If you really did take him to Kew then he would get to meet the princess alone.

(part 3)

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@fredsbetch @cherrylovers-world @chrystinaamanda @grassclippers @flyestvenustrap

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie @daykrisr999

[marsbutterfly]

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.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

hiii!! i just read your works about ilsa and rose. could you possibly write about lady jessica x fem! corrino reader? where they meet at the final scene of the movie…

xx

[Hi Anon! Thank you for the request. I had some fun ideas with this one, enjoy. :3]

Phantom Frequency

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Corrino Reader

Summary: Following the overthrow of House Corrino’s monarchy, few things are certain. The Bene Gesserit’s power over the throne, political stability and spice production seem to be uncertain, but on a more personal level, the Corrino household can only fear for their lives. But not all is lost for the two eldest daughters of the former Emperor Shaddam. With Irulan married to Paul and the Reader secured as her primary advisor, a third party strikes a bargain to maintain her security.

Warnings: Drugging, abduction, dub-con ‘arrangement’, dub-con medical examination, Jessica being Jessica

A/N: I know I said this might have been spicy… So I hope you’re hungry! For nothing.

Word Count: 2.8k

You’d heard the whispers before you stepped foot off of the ship onto Arrakis. You were the middle Corrino princess. Your sister, Irulan, deciphered truth, your younger sister wielded the Voice, and you had mastered complete control over your body. Each of you played a key role in the Corrino household. Irulan and your younger sister Addsham played direct roles in controlling the affairs of the household. You held a different purpose. While the two of them occupied the Bene Gesserit with their development and tasks, you lay in the shadows, collecting information and rumors out of the mouths of those around you with uncanny accuracy. But the whispers hadn’t helped you to prepare for the direct interest of the Reverend Mother Atreides.

“Abomination!” the sisters of the Bene Gesserit cried, all momentarily caught up in hysterics as Paul Atreides commanded Reverend Mohiam to silence.

The Fremen warriors stood clustered around the Muad’Dib, the Lisan al Gaib of their fables. But from your perspective, they were really clustered around her. Of all the people she could have fixed her eyes upon, she’d chosen you. Not your frightened sister Irulan, not the pale face of your father, Emperor Shaddam, but you. Small, unassuming, clustered and partially veiled amidst the throng of Bene Gesserit sisters. Quiet, resolutely collected and observant. Jessica Atreides had picked you to focus on. Why?

“... All these years, and I have the pleasure of finally meeting Lady Anirul’s successor.” a voice squirmed through your head. “You don’t carry her name, or her features like your older sister, but you do have her eyes, and her bearing.”

Jessica’s blue eyes bore into yours as the voice drew uncomfortable waves through your ears. You weren’t really hearing her voice. Her lips were barely moving… This was the Voice. Jessica was using some ventriloquy variant of the Voice to talk to you, and you alone.

“How?” you whispered, your brief murmur coming out like a soft gasp, indiscernible from the rest of the Bene Gesserit gasps.

“When you’re my pupil, I’ll teach you.” Jessica eerily stared, eyes sliding off of you and back onto whoever her next victim would be.

<——————->

Paul Atreides had won. The way Irulan clutched your arm as you exited into the safety of the Emperor’s ship made that clear. You’d watched your father kiss the ring of the boy warrior in a haze of disbelief and fear, your emotions scrambled alongside that of the women surrounding you. Walking into Irulan’s private chambers aboard the ship was like walking behind a stage curtain. She broke down, clutching at your shoulders, burying her face in your neck and sobbing.

“No, I can’t do it.” Irulan cried, chest heaving and voice cracking. “I can’t do it (Reader), I can’t face him again. Or his mother.”

You were numb. The kind of numb that slid into your bones whenever trouble struck. It left you with a clarity that was always sort of peculiar; an emotionless outlook on the problems you faced, the ability to tackle dilemmas with the unfeeling scalpel of logical next steps rather than the blunt phalanges of emotional wallowing. You cupped your sister’s head, resting your foreheads together.

“Who said you have to face him right now? No, you have time. You get three days to sob and sit in your self-pity, behind closed doors naturally, but then you will not cry any longer.” you found yourself instructing.

“I hate him.” Irulan whispered. “I fucking hate him.”

The very concept of Irulan swearing was a bit funny. She didn’t use these words. You’d doubted if she ever had them in her vocabulary.

“I believe it was you who held me against the bathroom wall and scrubbed my tongue with soap when I used those words.” you joked.

Irulan let out a tearful laugh, wiping her eyes and nodding.

“Sorry. You were twelve. And someone could have heard you.”

You nodded. It was a funny memory in hindsight. It had caused no lasting harm, quite unlike the predicament Irulan faced. All of the potential marital arrangements she’d been discerning for years, all of the suitors with varying levels of financial and diplomatic aptitude stripped from her in one fell swoop. She’d been damned to a sandpit with the worms and the Fremen. No respite from the Bene Gesserit would be given. No safety net should things go awry.

“I’m staying with you.”

“No.” Irulan shook her head. “What about Daddy?”

“Daddy has Addsham. You have no one. You need my skills, you need my council. You need someone to bear the burden with you.” you said, clutching your sister’s hands. “I’m not asking. I will stay. And you will not be alone.”

Irulan’s eyes filled with tears all over again, and so did your eyes. But you didn’t let them fall. You’d never cried since the night your mother had died. Now would not be the day the six year dam broke. An attendant broke you away from your sister, urgently vibrating in the way most servants did when they carried important news.

“The Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides requests your presence in meeting room six.”

No time was given. It was a direct order. Veiling yourself once more, you walked towards the specified meeting room.

<——————->

The room was empty. To your eyes, at least. A cup of tea, a Gom Jabbar needle. A test of some sort, or perhaps a warning. You kept your distance from the objects, breathing in the smell of stale incense. A large tapestry hung from the wall, a beloved favorite of yours. Lady Anirul seated alongside a younger Emperor Shaddam. Three little girls that bore varying ratios of similarity to the two parents. You smiled, observing your family. Something was off, however. You knew something about it was off. It wasn’t Emperor Shaddam, or any of the three little princesses, it was your mother, Lady Anirul. Was it her hands? No. The neck… Not that either. Her face was odd. Maybe it was seeing her countenance in the format of the tapestry. Maybe it was just seeing her again. But the more you looked, the more you realized that it was her face. All blended together, all seamlessly woven, except for the life-like eyes. The blue, glistening, life-like eyes of someone that was not your mother, that had never been your-

Hands sprung out from the tapestry, encircling your neck and pushing you backward into the table. The slits of the tapestry, the slits in your mother’s eyes went blank, and the face that replaced your mother’s sent chills up your spine.

“Let this be your first lesson.” Mother Jessica whispered, grip tight over your windpipe. “When the gut screams that something is wrong, you listen.”

She released your neck, and the fright combined with the released pressure on your airpipe made you dizzy. You slid to the floor, head spinning in shock and fear. Tears collected in your eyes, and your hands shook. All of these reactions were without your consent, and you couldn’t gather the necessary strength needed to reverse these processes, to engage the parasympathetic nervous system to undo the shock of the deceitfully devised strangulation attempt.

“Oh, child.” Jessica scoffed. “You grow too comfortable in your house.”

“You cut out my mother’s eyes!” you found yourself whimpering, like a scared child.

Jessica laughed at this, a cruel sound mixed with a certain degree of disdain.

“You have thirty seconds to collect yourself.” she ordered.

You found yourself rising, turning away from her to collect yourself. You stopped breathing like a hysterical adolescent, instead forcing slow breaths in through your nose. You gripped the edge of the table, righting the dam against your conflicting emotions. Then you turned, making eye-contact with the woman behind them all.

“I am not a traditional mentor. Your mother never was, hence why she was never allowed to mentor another following me.” Jessica coldly recounted. “But she taught me more in six months than the rest of them did in sixteen years. Still, she teaches me. From beyond the grave she sends me lessons, ones that hurt to learn. And now, she’s sent me you. The middle child, the forgotten one, the little rebel that bides her time in the shadows. You.”

Jessica adjusted her loose veil, grabbing the Gom Jabbar needle.

“What would this be used for?”

“The Gom Jabbar test. I passed it at fourteen.”

Jessica nodded, setting the needle down. But then she fixed her piercing gaze on you once more.

“But that’s not the only way you know it.”

Anger flashed through your veins. How dare she!

“My mother was a strong woman, she was sick. And no one helped her, so don’t you dare throw her death in my face-”

“Silence.”

Your teeth clacked shut, clipping your tongue in the process. The taste of iron filled your mouth

“Did your mother kill herself with the Gom Jabbar or not?”

You reached behind you, gripping the table with ferocious intensity, channeling the rising tide of emotions into another action other than crying.

“She did.” you croaked out, breathing in through your nose so fast the air whistled.

Jessica nodded, picking up the cup of tea. It was still hot, you noticed. A product of the heat conducting coil at the base of the cup.

“Do you know what this tea is?” Jessica asked, a rhetorical question. “It was the only thing found in your mother’s system following the autopsy. And you’re going to drink it.”

You screwed your eyes shut, silently praying to any higher power that would dare listen to make this nightmare stop. But then you opened them, not allowing yourself to succumb to despair.

“Take it. Before I make you.”

The cup was hot in your hands. The liquid a murky brown. It was a derivative of spice, notes of chamomile and citrus laced in with the pungent scent of spice. You swallowed down the beverage, doing so with mechanical detachment.

“Close your eyes.” Jessica murmured, taking the cup from you.

Her fingers grazed your with startling gentleness. It was a tad bit sensual, but perhaps you were making that bit up.

“Feel.”

The pregnant bump of Jessica brushed against your stomach, her hands resting on your lower face. Her nose brushed yours, a brief motion. Then her lips rested on your left ear, her breath tickling the hollow cavern of your ear canal.

“Your mother drank a spice cocktail, a depressant based blend to promote bliss and a sense of euphoria. She died happy.”

It was too much for you to bear, and in between the soft caresses of her hands, in between the stress of the last twelve hours, in between all of the emotional heartache you’d experienced, a sad, neglected child sat crouched in a corner, wondering where her mother went. You broke down, hands fisted in the Reverend Mother’s robes as she collected every stray tear you cried with her lips, collecting the water of your body and storing it in hers.

<—————->

Distant voices blurred together the longer you were in that room. You called it ‘that room’ because you were unsure of where it was. Your routine was set. When you came out of the drug coma, you were fed and given water, and then the bitter drink was administered. As you came out of the coma again, more voices were clear.

“Leave me with her.” a raspy voice.

“But Reverend Mother, you gave birth only three days ago-”

“Leave me.”

The voice. Quick footsteps, silence. Hands encircled your face, sweet smelling breath ghosting over your nose.

“I’ve had you inspected.” she murmured. “You are in perfect health, fertile and strong. A strong vessel, this is important.”

You opened your eyes, meeting the tired, slightly bloodshot eyes of the Reverend Mother.

“I cannot teach someone weak. I will not teach someone weak. But you are not weak, daughter of Anirul. No, you are good stock.”

Her hands crept over you, exposing your skin, pulling off your robe.

“Still… I do not necessarily trust the Imperial physicians I had brought to you. I need to see for myself.”

Jessica started at your lymph nodes in your neck, checking pulse, fingers prodding the skin. She pressed over your belly button, your appendix, watching your face for signs of discomfort. Her touch slid down to your feet, your ankles. She carefully checked all the joints of your arms and legs, paying special attention to your hips.

“Strong body, good heart, your lungs sound clear and full. But are you suitable for breeding?” Jessica asked herself.

Both of her hands encircled your breasts, probing and caressing, checking for any potential defects.

“Not as vessel filled as they should be. You need more blood flow to the glands. Daily massages should help with that.”

It was humiliating, being touched so callously. It was medical, sure. And the Reverend Mother was a sister of the Bene Gesserit, but this was hardly protocol.

“The womb…”

Her hands slid down to your pubic area, probing and prodding just above the pubic bone. She did this for sometime, more carefully examining this area than anywhere else.

“It’s safe to say that you are fertile. Not as fertile as you should be, however. Estrogen rich foods, daily boric acid suppositories to help with pH balance… Yes, most certainly.”

Jessica gripped your thighs without warning, pulling them apart, exposing your vulva to her view. It was a quick look, she merely skimmed over you with her gaze.

“Aesthetically pleasing. Hmm.”

The Reverend Mother dropped her grip, tying the robe over you once more. To say that you were shocked was an understatement. Humiliation, confusion and flattery all brewed together in a jumbled mix, and you found that every possible response you had to the examination dried up in your throat.

“What?” Jessica smirked bemusedly. “You are very aesthetically pleasing, not just there, but everywhere.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows felt like the only correct de-escalatory measure. Tightening the robe over you felt necessary, covering yourself from her gaze. Jessica eyed you carefully, her hands cupping your cheeks and jaw.

“Let me make one thing clear. I do not explain my methods. I will not explain my methods. Once the desired outcome is made, there will be no room for discussion over my methods. I am the teacher, you are the pupil. Criticism will not be tolerated, neither will disobedience.”

A thousand questions raced through your head. Who had given her this authority over you? Why had she drugged you? How long had you stayed in a timeless state of unconscious bliss while the world worked around you? What if Irulan had needed your help while you were gone? What if your father had left with the rest of the Bene Gesserit, and you’d never gotten to say goodbye?

“I have questions.” you rasped, voice crackly and hoarse from not speaking for several days.

“I don’t have the patience to answer them. The only thing you need to know at this point is that you are not permitted to leave my side without my consent. That means you eat with me, you attend all meetings alongside me, you tend to my affairs when instruction is given and you sit quietly when I have nothing for you.” Jessica listed, getting closer, cupping your face more forcefully. “You sleep alongside me, you dress alongside me, and you most certainly do not hide yourself from me.”

Jessica slid a hand down your back, her other hand gripping the back of your head. Her lips pressed right against her ear, wet, hot air tickling at the sensitive flesh.

“And what we do when it is just us, what we do in those quiet hours once I am healed from labor, that you will never speak of.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide and troubled. Was she… Propositioning you for sex? Was this even a proposition or just a straight up demand. You wanted to open your mouth to protest, but Jessica was faster.

“Get up.” Jessica said, exerting control over you using the Voice.

Your body obeyed unwillingly, standing before her.

“Kneel.”

Your knees buckled, and her hands were quick to jerk your face up, glaring at you with intent.

“Never, ever attempt to speak without being spoken to again. Especially to tell me what I can and cannot do. Arrakis is under Emperor Paul’s jurisdiction now. What I do to ensure House Corrino remains subjected will be none of his concern.”

The fire in her eyes died down, replaced by a soft amusement.

“It won’t be bad, dear. None of it will be bad. You won’t ever worry about being forced into a diplomatic marriage without good warning. And if you do well, if you are a good student, I will have very little incentive to send you away.”

Jessica finished her lecture, amusing herself with the soft baby hairs that clung to your forehead.

“And from now on,” she continued, voice soft, “You call me Jessica.”

[shan-yee]

𝘍𝘦𝘺𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘢 𝘹 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘰𝘶𝘴!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𖦹𝙎𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠 [final project posted] 𖦹𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 = mention of sexual acts. 𖦹𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 = 464 𖦹𝙰/𝙽 = Ngl i’m really excited to post the final text, i feel like it’s my best work for now :’)

—Princess, the Reverend Mother wishes to see you. Announced the guard, head bowed.

The man was new, and certainly he had heard many rumors about Princess [Y/N], first daughter of Emperor Shaddam. Earlier, when he was ordered to go get the princess, he noticed the smirks of his comrades and their whispers.

But it was sure that when he opened the large doors of the royal bedroom he did not expect to find his princess and three men, probably soldiers, naked. Two watched a young man with blond hair sneak between the legs of the [H/C] haired girl. He held her thighs apart but raised his head when he heard the doors open, a shiny substance running down his lips and chin, a substance that he quickly licked while looking up at his lover.

The princess clearly seemed unhappy and even less sexually satisfied, but seeing the guard's eyes open wide and his inability to look at them a slight smirk appeared on her lips. The fingers of her right hand tenderly caressed the hair of the young man as her other hand touched affectionately the jaw of another man, leaving the third man frustrated and begging for affection from his lady.

—What does that old witch want ? she finally asked.

—I-I don’t know your highness…He shudder, his gaze moving to the side, towards a wall of the large bedroom.

Suddenly, the young woman's fingers closed in the blond's hair between her thighs, who emitted a slight grunt of pain and surprise.

—Not only do you not look your princess in the eyes when you speak to her, but you are not even capable of giving her an answer.

The terrified young man could do nothing but get on his knees, begging her to spare him. In a split of second all the pleasure and excitement she felt had dissolved, the crazy old woman had the talent of interrupting her at the worst moments. Knowing very well that the Reverent Mother would never leave her alone, she got up, grabbed a bathrobe that was on the floor before leaning over the three men, sitting quietly on her bed, to kiss their lips, one at a time.

—I’m sorry my pretty pets, wait for me. She whispered, looking affectionately at them and the three men nodded happily.

Taking one last look at her lovers [Y/N] walked out of the large bedroom, stepping on the left hand of the guard, still on the ground. He only got up after she left the room to close the doors and follow his princess, watching one last time as the three soldiers lay on the bed and talked, as naked as the day they were born, waiting patiently for the return of their beloved mistress.

[hanadulsetaad]

RICH KIDS OF SK ( HYUNJIN X READER (Y/N) X BANG CHAN

TAGS: LOVE TRIANGLE, ANGST, BREAKUP, BETRAYAL

PART 2 PART 3 PART FOUR part 5 PART 6

SYNOPSIS:

Y/N Seo's life gets turned upside down when her crush, Hyunjin, starts dating her old friend turned enemy, Yeji. Suddenly, Yeji is part of their rich kid's group, even though y/n and Yeji can't stand each other. They pretend to be friends, but it's all fake.

Things get super messy when old secrets spill out, and new faces join the gang. Rumors fly, and trust crumbles as people in the group start leaking secrets, trying to wreck everyone's reputations. With newbies entering the scene, will the schemers in the group get busted for their sneaky plots?

Y/N's in the middle of it all, trying to figure out who's real and who's fake. Will she stick around with the rich kids, or will she find her own way? And what about Hyunjin? Will Y/N win his heart, or will she find love in an unexpected place?

PROFILE ONE

"THE RICH KIDS"

Y/N Seo: Y/N is the brainy YouTuber daughter of a business tycoon, alongside her dropout-turned-millionaire brother, Changbin. Together, they're the dynamic duo of South Korea, known for brains and business smarts. Plus, she's also a college student, balancing academics with her online presence.

Changbin Seo: College dropout turned startup sensation, Changbin is the brother of Y/N and the mastermind behind his own wealth. In a secret relationship with Lee Felix.

Hwang Hyunjin: Hyunjin is the prince of South Korea's elite circle. Son of the third richest man, he's not just a pretty face but a model and dancer extraordinaire.

Yeji Hwang: Yeji is the princess beside Hyunjin's prince. A rising star in modeling and dancing, she's the perfect match for her wealthy beau, Hyunjin.

Lee Felix: Son of a fashion mogul, Felix struts his stuff on runways and social media alike.

I.N: Son of a top doctor and lawyer. Despite his privileged background, he's all about hard work and making his own mark.

Wooyoung: Changbin's business partner in their gym startup, Wooyoung is a college buddy and y/n's roommate.

"THE NEWBIES"

Bang Chan: Born in Australia but moved to Korea at 13 due to his parents' separation, Bang Chan is anything but ordinary. Despite not being from a wealthy family, he's a genius who aced the Korean college exams. On top of that, he's a part-time composer for big idol companies, showcasing his incredible talent.

Kim Seungmin: From a regular middle-class family, Seungmin is Bang Chan's buddy, and he's a riot! He never thought he'd crack the college exams, but guess what? He did, landing at the 200th spot. Even he is surprised.

(more characters will be introduced)

HE IS DATING WHO?

[cdragons]

Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two

Previous Chapter

Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠

Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.

Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.

As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.

She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.

You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.

“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?

“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about.

You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.

You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.

It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.

As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.

“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”

“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.

“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”

If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.

“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”

“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.

You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.

“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”

Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”

You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.

“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”

Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.

“Mother!”

Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.

“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”

You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.

The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.

You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”

Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”

Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.

“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”

Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.

“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”

“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”

 You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.

After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.

You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”

Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”

Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.

Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”

“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”

Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”

“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”

“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”

Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”

Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.

You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.

“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”

You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.

“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”

The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.

Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”

You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.

The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.

You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.

Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!

While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.

“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”

But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.

“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”

Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.

“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”

But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.

As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.

The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.

Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.

You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.

The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.

You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.

But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.

Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.

“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”

You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.

“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”

Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…

“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”

But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”

“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”

Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.

He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”

You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”

Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.

“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”

You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”

“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”

Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.

“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”

With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.

Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.

“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”

“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”

“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”

Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”

“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”

“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”

Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.

Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.

You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.

While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.

If only life could be that simple.

Translations:

Muña - mother

Kepa - father

Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”

Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”

Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @lady-ashfade , @axelsagewrites

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist! Please like, comment, and/or reblog this story if you enjoyed reading it, and please share the link with anyone you think might enjoy it!

[bluebellhairpin]

Harwin Strong X f!Reader

Summary: The arrangement you made with your husband to help Rhaenyra backfires, and you attempt to put and end to it before if gets anyone into trouble. But trouble brews anyway.

Warnings: Leaning into reader/rhaenyra/harwin ship territory. Reader is fem bodied + called wife/mother. Reader is a Criston Cole hater (justified).

Listening to: 'Blood of my Blood' by Ramin Djawadi

Series Masterlist || AO3 Link || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Ever since Rhaenyra was wed there had been whispers - ones that you could hear without lending your ear to your cunning brother in law. 

They were murmurs only heard in the darkest of halls, about how she and Laenor didn’t lay together, that they never had, and refused to do so. Word spread that the Princess had taken a secret lover, and that the guard who’d been killed at their wedding used to be Laenor’s. They gained weight, and became ugly looming shadows over the young couple.

Especially after Rhaenyra had her first child - and he was born looking nothing like Laenor. It caused more rumors to spread. Rumors you did not appreciate. Ones that you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about, because they eventually affected you and your family too. And partially because they were basically your fault. 

In the beginning, you chalked up the similarities between your second child, Dawsyn, and Rhaenyra’s, Jacaerys, as chance. You convinced those around you that it was pure coincidence. But as they grew older, despite being almost nine months apart in age, you started noticing things. They way their hair all held the same curls. The way they would tilt their heads the same way when their toys didn’t work how they wanted them to. Their giggles. 

Then Rhaenyra had her second son, Lucerys, around the same time as you had the daughter Harwin had spent years longing for. Suddenly you were met with the same rumors as when Dawsyn and Jacaerys were born - and had to fend them off again from others in the Kings Court. 

You knew something that only three others in the Red Keep knew, and because of that the similarities blared at you like a red lantern at night. The father of your children was also the father of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons. And that was starting to worry you. 

You knew people suspected Harwin as the real father. That he was one of the few men that those in the Red Keep thought could be siring Rhaenyra’s children - her bastards they called them, the word made something sour bubble in your stomach. But you knew what that would mean for Harwin. You knew what could happen to his life, and the lives of Rhaeynra, her sons - even your own children. 

Every single one of them could die. 

You stood at the window in Rhaenyra’s bedroom. You’d taken to spending a lot of time in her company, especially now she was reaching the end of her third pregnancy. Her labour pains could start any day now, and she was starting to get restless. 

There was no blaming her, by the same time during your time with Renai you’d been sick of it by now too. 

“You look deep in thought,” she said. 

You turned to her, slowly moving your eyes from the window to her place on the settee. She was relaxed, with you around she dismissed all other company - she did it often, you guessed she liked a slice of normalcy free of the fluttering hens at court, or the ears of little servant birds. But all you could think of was when she was younger, before you’d subjected her to the foul words whispered behind her back. Really this was your fault - in an effort to help Rhaenyra keep her happiness, you’d destroyed it. You felt like you couldn’t keep your thoughts to yourself anymore - that the worry was starting to make you crack around the edges. 

“Like something worries you.” Rhaenyra, apparently, could notice it too. 

“You can’t blame me, you live here too. You hear what people say. It worries me.” you replied, finally cluing someone into your thoughts. You turned back to the window to see where your children and Rhaenyra’s played below, supervised by Pacey and Raechel. “What could happen to them worries me.” 

“You think we should stop?” Rhaenyra asked. The question, if overheard without the context of both your conversation and the secrets you both held, wouldn’t have been understood by anyone else. But you knew she knew that the subject had changed to her situationship with Harwin. 

“I think he should stop giving you children.” You looked back at her, your eyes lingering on the clasped hands over her belly. “He’s a smart man in many ways, but if he keeps acting as he is now, he’s just going to get us all into trouble.” 

“I could talk to him.” Rhaenyra offered, looking up at you with almost wide, childlike eyes. It softened the worry in you, like you’d forgotten she was a younger woman than you were. You moved from the window and sat by her side, taking her hand in yours.

“No. ‘One heart, one flesh, and one soul’. That’s what we were declared on our wedding day. His mistakes are mine, and mine are his. I allowed this to happen, and I’ll end it.” you said, squeezing her fingers, “Leave Harwin to me.”

Rhaenyra’s chest rose and fell three times before she spoke again, voice even more hushed than before, as if afraid to even admit it to you. But she did. 

“I don’t want to be alone.” 

“You never will be.” you said, shuffling closer to her side as your arm pressed to hers, “I’ll never leave you alone. No matter how far away life could take me, just call me to your side and nothing in the Seven Kingdoms will be able to stop me.” Then you smiled to yourself, mind straying toward the man of the hour. “Harwin even more so. His affection for you might even outweigh his love for me.” 

“I’d hate to think that.” she scoffed, sitting up slightly as her hand now squeezed yours. 

“Then don’t. This is loyalty deeper than bone, neither of us would leave you alone, and when called to duty Laenor wouldn’t either.” Rhaenyra’s gaze softened again, this time instead of being afraid she seemed nervous. 

“Will you tell anyone?” she asked. You shook your head, almost offended. 

“No one will hear a word of it from me. After I speak with Harwin, the words will never leave my lips again. It will be as good as forgotten.” Your thumb moved back and forth across the back of her hand as you spoke, and she looked down at it when she spoke again. 

“You’re persuading me that this isn’t something to worry about. It’s no wonder Alicent is always so agreeable after you speak with her.” 

“Do you wish to be persuaded further?” you asked, smirking. 

“Perhaps.” she replied, her smile matching your own. You shifted from your spot on the settee, now facing the Princess fully with both her hands in yours. 

“Before the Seven, mine and Harwin’s blood was declared the same. Nevertheless, your children are of his blood as much as mine are, no matter who their mother is,” you said, eyes never leaving hers as you spoke, and your voice softened as you continued, “They’re as good as my own children. That’s enough to warrant keeping them safe.” 

Her face morphed. Changing from one that conveyed half assured hopefulness to one that was undeniably relieved. Even her eyes welled with unshed tears with the weight that seemed to lift off her shoulders. Yet her next words laid bare her last ounce of doubt. A doubt you were dead set on burying. 

“Can I really believe I’ve earnt enough love and trust from you that not only can you not find it in your heart to hate me, but you are so willing to love these children as your own? That you could forgive me?” 

“Rhaenyra, you mean more to me than you could ever imagine.” you said, “Harwin and I both agreed to this, we knew what could happen. There’s nothing to forgive.” 

Not even a day later, and Rhaenyra had entered and finished birthing her third child. Her final that would be sired by Harwin. 

You’d been with her, until she finished, then left her in the hands of the maids and midwives to go tell everyone else the good news. Well, everyone that mattered to you. 

Laenor, as soon as you told him, left right away. 

However, to keep up his newly reinforced guise of being indifferent (he took the conversation surprisingly well, all things considered), Harwin stayed and watched over where his four sons ogled over a new dragon egg. You could tell from the look on his face when you entered that he longed to be with her. He had an understanding of the horrors of childbirth that you’d seen in no other man. He’d have to have been torn from your side if the Maester’s didn’t let him stick around when you were in labor - you’d believe he would have resorted to biting, if they went to make him leave you - so you could only imagine how he felt about having to leave Rhaenyra alone. 

His only consolation was that you were there instead. 

“How was she?” he asked quietly, a hand resting on your elbow. You eyed Dawysn as his fingertips tested how hot the egg was, slowly inching closer. 

“In high spirits. If I were to be trusted, I’d say she’s getting quite used to going through labor for the sake of a new son.” you whispered. Harwin was about to speak again, but instead of listening, you scooped Dawsyn in your arms - he’d burn himself if he were allowed close to that fire stone any longer. “You, little ser, need to keep your fingers to yourself.” you said to your son, grabbing his chubby fingers and kissing each one. 

“It’s not that bad -” Larys said - right before reaching his hand too close - “Ouch!” He pulled his hand back, shaking it before stuffing his fingers in his mouth. Harwin came up behind him, and put his hands on his shoulders to guide him to where you now sat. 

“You are no dragon, son, leave the scales to those who can handle them.” he said, ruffling his hair. Harwin tried to leave Larys in your care, but he was having none of it - instead he tucked his head into the cool armor at his father’s stomach. 

“My Princes’, may I suggest putting the lid on that egg? We don’t want it to cool down too much.” you suggested, pressing a kiss to Dawysn’s head as you set him down. Jace nodded, managing to lift the cast iron lid back in place while his brother already got distracted. 

By the time all four of them had settled onto the rug with a handful of carved wooden toys, Harwin beside them telling some story about Aegon’s conquest that you didn’t doubt they all already knew back to front, the door opened. In stepped Rhaenyra, Laenor, and the new child. 

Immediately Rhaenyra’s two sons jumped to their feet, eager to tell their mother about the dragon egg they brought up from the pit. Your sons stayed on the floor, watching curiously as Harwin helped Rhaenyra sit, and Laenor coo at the baby. You likewise rose from your seat to get a proper look at the boy, humming and harring at him as he slept. 

“He will grow to be a fearsome knight.” Laenor said, shifting slightly so you could see better, but in no way was he giving up the child yet. You were satisfied just to see his face. 

“Just like you,” you said, a gentle hand squeezing Laenor’s shoulder. 

“Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey,” Rhaenyra said. Her voice, although laced with exhaustion, was strong enough to cut through the baby-induced bubble both you and Laenor were stuck in. Within moments, the baby was passed over from Laenor’s arms into Harwin’s. 

The sight was enough to make you want to freeze the moment in time forever. That happened each time you caught Harwin holding a baby. It was like he was meant to hold a child, with how comfortable he looked. How perfect it looked. You couldn’t help but smile, and as you caught Rhaenyra’s eyes, it only widened. 

However, like a moth to flame, the four young boys took Joffrey being passed to Harwin as a sign to swarm. They came in from all angles with the grace of a drunk herd of cows, all speaking at once, and all trying to persuade Harwin to let them look at the babe. Harwin could only hold poor Joffrey out of reach while Laenor intervened, persuading Jace and Luke to go to the dragon pit to train. 

“You both too, come on,” you said, hands resting on your son’s curls to guide them out of the room, “Don’t forget you have lessons also.” 

“But Mother, we don’t have any until this afternoon -”

“Then go to your sister,” you said, ushering them out the door despite their protests, “I’ll be there shortly.” That did it, they did have a fondness for their young sister, something they inherited from their father no doubt. You saw them off running down the hall before turning back to Harwin. 

You caught his eye and smiled, in return his gaze was soft, smile even more so as he rocked his son in his arms. The thought returned, that it was if he were born to be a father. 

Then you looked over at Rhaenyra, nodding with your smile unwavering. She relaxed in her seat, and her lips quirked up. She needed rest, so you cast one more look of longing over at Joffrey - you could have your turn holding him another day - and closed the door behind you. 

You were in high spirits. Joffrey’s safe arrival into the world had many feeling the same way, and he brought joy to many around him - a happy child already, and it had barely been a day. 

You’d just left your room, flanked by your son Larys - your purpose was twofold. Larys was promised he could train with the Prince’s if he finished his lessons, so you were taking him to the courtyard to meet them, then you were going to bring Harwin back since he would be just finishing his shift for the day. 

Larys really was his father’s son, with almost a natural strength to him despite his youth - it was an aspect you knew your own father would’ve started honing properly years ago. You’d held off for the sake of still seeing him as a child, but in the world you lived in it was expected. Larys liked it, he liked having something in common with his father, and many others in your family - and you couldn’t stop him from doing what he loved just because you wanted him to be safe. 

But today something seemed to be bothering him. Usually he looked forward to training, so much so that you could see it on his face. Not today. To try and get him to open up, you dismissed anyone who might’ve followed you - but it took almost the entire walk for him to finally hint at what was wrong. 

“Do you think I might be good enough to beat Ser Criston someday?” Larys asked. You looked down at him with your arm around his shoulder. 

“If you practised enough, there’s no reason why you couldn’t.” you said. He looked down at his hands, toying with the hem of his training glove. 

“I don’t think I get to practice enough.” he admitted, the way he spoke sent pangs through your heart. “Ser Criston is the only teacher and he focuses on the Prince’s so much more. I’d ask Father for help instead, but he’s always so busy.” So that was what was wrong.

You both stopped just short of the door to the training courtyard, and you turned Larys so he faced you. 

“Then I’ll have your grandfather send someone from my home. You will get to practice just as well as the others.” you said, taking his face in your palm so you could brush his curls from his face. “You’ll have your own teacher.” 

“Really?” he asked, a hopeful look in his eye as he looked up at you. 

“Of course. I’ll send a raven as soon as I can.” you smiled, kissing his forehead. “In the meantime remember you can learn a lot from simply watching, even if you aren’t able to train the same as the other boys. Don’t underestimate the power behind observation.” 

“Yes Mother.” With a grin on his face, you squeezed his shoulder and guided him towards the door. His steps were more enthusiastic now, and his head was held high. If you were anyone else you might say he was being spoiled - promised his own teacher when even the Princes had to share one. But you were his mother, so instead you’d say he deserved the best of what he wanted. 

You both stepped out the door expecting to see the others training, but the sight that met you was far from it. 

The timing was perfect - right as you walked into the daylight, Harwin lunged for Criston Cole. The latter was on the ground after only a few blows, but Harwin wasn’t stopping. He climbed onto the downed man and kept going. Punch after punch landed on Criston’s face, and all you could think of was what that idiot did to make Harwin’s temper snap so violently. 

You hadn’t thought of doing a thing to intervene, perfectly content to watch, until Larys brushed past your skirts as if to move closer. 

“You stay here,” you said, walking forward and pushing your son back a little so he stayed away. Two of the King’s Guard rushed forward, running to pull Harwin off Criston, then two more joined in to stop him breaking free. 

“Say it again! Say it!” Harwin yelled, voice rough with rage as he struggled and tried to pull away and attack Criston again. 

“Harwin! That’s enough.” you said, reaching over the guard’s arm and pressing your hand to the armor on Harwin’s chest. He physically relaxed when he saw you in front of him, enough that the guards reluctantly loosened their hold. But when he looked at you, his eyes still didn’t change as the men stepped away. He looked ready to have killed Criston, and probably would have if there was no one around to stop him. 

“Yeah Commander, listen to your -” 

Swiftly you stepped away from Harwin and stood over where Criston had started to stand. He was already weary from the beating, but when you bent over, jabbing a finger to his chest, he swayed where he sat resting back on his elbows as he looked up at you. The look in your eye that made him freeze. 

“Stay down, Cole. If you get up before we leave I will let him blend your skull into the pavement.” you hissed. His eyes narrowed at your quietly spoken reference - yes, a fate like Laenor’s lover, and yes you remembered, even if everyone else seemed to forget. It was a fate you were ready to let him share. 

“I’m in the Kingsguard and you speak to me like that?” Criston tried to start again, although less confident than before. One more look from you had him shutting up, and your next words were sharp. 

“I can speak to you however I want to. If I so desired it, the only place you’ll be safe from me is fucking Qarth, do you understand me?” His jaw clenched, but besides that he made no effort to move or speak again. “I said ‘do you understand me’, Squire’s son?” He frowned, lips rolling over his teeth. You’d hit the exact nerve you were hoping for. 

“I understand,” he said. You quirked an eye at him, standing over him so you were no longer hunched over. You stayed like that. Waiting. “Milady,” he finally added. 

With that you turned on your heel and made to leave. Harwin said your name, reaching for your arm. Instead, you shoved his armored shoulder when you reached him, pointing to the door. 

“Go.” 

After returning to your room, Harwin was almost immediately summoned to go speak with his father. Which left you alone for most of the afternoon. You weren’t sure exactly what you were thinking, but it made you so anxious that you couldn’t stand being around anyone until you knew what cause’s Harwin’s outburst. 

You were sitting by the fire when Harwin returned, staring into the flames as the wooden door clicked shut behind you. For a moment you heard nothing - he was standing, waiting - then he moved, and the familiar sounds of him taking off his armor started echoing in your quiet room. 

“What happened?” you finally asked. He quietened again, before you heard a sigh and the heavy clunk of his sword being put aside. 

“You want to hear it?” 

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have asked.” You turned your head, watching him walk over and sit in the chair opposite you. Harwin’s hands laid in his lap, one cradled with the other as his thumbs brushed over his knuckles. You decided that after you were done being upset with him, you’d take a look at it - obviously it was sore. 

He very slowly leant forward, looking into the fire with his elbows on his knees. His hair was loose, and it fell so you couldn’t see his eyes. 

“My father made the decision to give up his role as Hand, and take me away to Harrenhal. I’m being punished and he’s taking my whole family down with me.” He spoke slow, quiet. Once he was done his head fell into his hands, fingers weaved through his curls. 

“Actions have consequences. What you did today very well could be the undoing of all of us.” you said, voice even quieter. A log in the fire cracked and fell. 

“You know it’s not the first time.” he mumbled. 

“You’ve beat Criston before?” you asked. He sat back, pushing away his hair and slumped into the chair with a deep breath. 

“No, he’s been lucky I’ve been so patient until now.” Harwin hissed, “He’s made more comments about Rhaenyra’s children than I can remember. I didn’t want to remember, so I tried not to, but today? I couldn’t take it. Those boys deserve better than those whispers behind their backs.” 

At least that was something you both could agree on. 

“Which is why your father has decided we must go?” 

“Which is why my father decided we must go.” He finally looked at you, despair written in his eyes. “But I don’t want to go. It’s so fucking weird there. And cold, you’d hate it. Our children, their whole lives are here. Kings Landing is all they’ve ever known.” 

You turned away back to the fire. You felt his eyes still on you as you watched the flames licking the burning wood. You felt him watching you as you thought. You kept your eyes on the hearth, but reached your hand out. His fingers brushed yours before he took your hand in his. His hands were warm and calloused, but they felt like him. They were a comfort, and they felt like home. Home was his hand in yours, not the Red Keep. 

“You were upset earlier. Not just at Cole. At me.” Harwin said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For all of it. If I hadn’t done any of it -” 

“- You are not solely to blame. It was my idea!” you reminded him, squeezing his fingers. 

“- I could have said no.” Harwin said, smiling knowingly, “I could’ve stopped. I should have, and I didn’t. I have a duty to defend Rhaenyra, but my duty first is to you. From now on, you and our children will be first. Now, always, and forever.” 

You stood from your chair, walking over to his side. He watched you, the hand that was grasped in yours broke free to instinctually wrap around your waist as you came close. His arm was warm through the fabric of your clothes. He felt like home, but he wouldn’t take that as an answer right now. 

“Harrenhal is your home, no matter how weird or cold.” you said, brushing back his hair and kissing his temple. “The children will grow there, like you did. They’ll call it home too, and we’ll be safe there. We all will be.”