#I would put this on rb but I don’t know if they would allow something this raunchy textwise
Text
You know when you’re falling asleep and a random image or meme blips into your vision? Yeah
-Please do not reupload/edit/use without proper credit and linking back. Ask first.-
#teldryn sero#I would put this on rb but I don’t know if they would allow something this raunchy textwise#even if they do allow some more adult stuff#tes#tesblr#skyrim#the elder scrolls#artsyfartsyness#NICE COCK (genitalia neutral)#this reads funnier if his use of serjo is entirely sarcastic for the player character#or purely like casually calling someone boss#some real thomastheplankengine shit#please check the subreddit it’s hilarious aside from the people using ai for visuals
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ROTTEN LUCK !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. smut, kidnapping, leon is like mentally gone icl, references to past assault and trauma, non-con, manipulation, suicidal thoughts/reference to an attempt, general leon self destructive behaviour, physical abuse, power dynamics, throatfucking, choking, breath play, somno, 1 instance of drugging, unmentioned age gap, anal, he puts duct tape on your pussy ok just once promise it’s not bad, religious references, 1 mention of vomit and piss not in a sexual way, slight misogyny, panic attack
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
anyway, please ignore typos :3 rbs and feedback is very appreciated :3 my medical knowledge sucks, so keep in mind that all of this is off LMFAO crossposted to ao3 (user clitkiss)
two
Lucky. Leon hates that word. He wasn’t lucky to get out of Raccoon City, he was just barely capable, you have to be unlucky to get into that situation in the first place. You’re a lucky guy, Redfield had told him once, Chris not Claire. Claire isn’t daft. And Leon wonders what is so lucky about him. He’s forty-six and all he’s got is his trusty Matilda, his mother’s old Bible, and a failing liver. His luck is preordained by God and it’s a total sham.
Leon Kennedy’s the one who showed up to drill sessions smelling like sweat and cock. Kennedy’s the one that rolls over onto his front and takes it like a good doggy. Kennedy’s green behind the ears, pretty in the face, and that don’t fare well in a boot camp full of men twice his size. Kennedy’s the one brushing shoulders with the President, got the USA’s most prized dick in his mouth and everyone knows that he wouldn’t dare bite down. Golden boy Leon fucking Scott Kennedy would just go ahead and use his tongue to clean up Graham’s ballsack. And you’re calling that lucky? Bullshit.
The DSO’s modus operandi is strikingly similar to that of the BSAA. He is but a cog in a well oiled machine. There’s one difference, not a dog tag to his name. If he dies, then he’ll die nameless, and he’ll be cremated by something nuclear, and it’ll all be for nothing. Ain’t that just the luckiest thing you’ve ever heard?
He has tried to kill himself once or twice or thrice. He lost count after the fifth. The gun jammed once, a bad joke. Left Matilda rendered useless. Was meant to be him, not her. And if Leon’s being honest, every day is an avid attempt, as in the drinking and praying his liver gives out. Once he managed to get halfway there. Doesn’t remember a lot. Just blood. Lots of blood. Why couldn’t you be quiet about your grief, Leon? Claire’s expression had asked, how I am, how Chris is, how Jill is.
‘Cause he couldn’t. He had to go ahead and splatter his grief all over the linoleum floor. Maybe then someone would find him, and they’d mourn him, and they’d feel sorry for him ‘cause he’d pitied himself enough. Leon told her a joke, yapping away like one of those butterscotch lapdogs. Claire said that in South Korea you’re allowed to snip a dog's vocal cords to stop them from barking. Lucky I’m not in South Korea then. She handed him an orange prescription bottle with his name scrawled on it, and that was that. They didn’t speak for a few months.
Once upon a time Sherry needed him, now he needs her more. Needs her to laugh at his jokes, she’s the only one that does. And he needs her to tell him, I love you, Leon. She’s the only one that says that. No one puts up with him like Sherry does. She puts up with him in the way most women do their fathers. Love their dads unconditionally and nothing can ever fix that. Terrible illness that is. So, yeah, Leon Scott Kennedy is far from lucky. Lonely? Oh, for sure. God. He’s so lonely he feels sorry for himself. That’s one thing Leon has always been good at though. Lending himself a shoulder ‘cause no one else will.
His fingers brush yours in the record store. The hairs on the back of his neck stand. Jesus. Is it getting that bad? Leon’s been without a fuck for a few months and he’s already itching. That’s a new low. When Leon looks up to catch sight of who made his dick swell with their fingertips, he catches your eye briefly. A mousy little thing. Easily spooked it seems by the nervous smile you give him.
You’re on the phone, I don’t know what he likes anymore, dad, yeah—I’m trying to find it—Yes, I know who sang Sex and Candy, dad, Kurt Cobain right? Is that the one he likes? Dumbass. No, I’m not wrong, could you put mom on the phone—Hi mom, yes, I know he’s my brother, mom—Ever since he turned fifteen he stopped talking to me properly—I don’t know what she thinks, mom—
A mommy, daddy, a brother, a sister too he assumes. You’re what they call lucky. Nasty undertone you’re using with your parents. If Leon’s mom was still around he’d talk to her so sweet. She’d tell him to pray and Leon wouldn’t resist. Alright, Ma, Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus Tecum— then his voice would trail off, and he’d pretend to mouth the rest of the hymn ‘cause he remembers fuck all.
He wants to knock you around. Shake you till your brains scramble. Wants you to flinch even when he’s being nice. Leon’s nostrils flare when you raise your voice in the slightest, even if it’s playful, it’s plain rude. How dare you? He can’t even begin to fathom how incredibly lucky you are. The thought crosses Leon’s mind once, twice, thrice. Just how suicide did that day back in September. If you can kidnap the President’s daughter from her bustling college campus, throw her over your shoulder like salt, why can’t you kidnap Miss Nobody from a street corner in D.C?
Your figure is distinguished by a single, flickering street lamp. He sees your shadow. Recognises the silhouette by the shapely legs and how your belted coat flares out to create a dramatic hourglass, Leon’s got a good eye for detail. Oh, it’s kinda sexy watching you in the spotlight, like a makeshift cabaret show, go on babe, bust out the flapper dress, he knows his stuff, he read Gatsby back in high school. He listens out for the tap of your heeled boots, click-clack, click-clack, there you are, you don’t even know what’s about to happen, do you? And it really is that easy. Just like throwin’ salt over your shoulder.
Temazepam, loprazolam, lormetazepam, diazepam, nitrazepam. Some melatonin too. Magnesium’s supposed to help with insomnia. How’s he supposed to know what your body reacts to best? Leon’s not your fuckin’ GP. Chloroform does the trick for everyone. Should’ve invited you out for drinks and roofied you instead.
Leon had gone for an old-fashioned method, listen, he was desperate. He doesn’t usually resort to such bruteish tactics unlike the older Redfield, not that Chris would use a morsel of his strength to harm a lady, but it had to be done. Yes, he choked you out. No, he’s not proud of it. He’s actually pretty disappointed in his lack of preparation. Oh, cut yourself some slack, Kennedy, it’s your first time kidnapping someone, and it was a heat of the moment type thing. To Leon’s dismay, that doesn’t last long, duh, he should know better.
While you regain sluggish consciousness on his couch, Leon’s tearing through his kitchen cabinets for anything to settle you down. Ah. That’s right. Ketamine. Ain’t it horse tranquilliser? What’s that doing here? Honestly, he’s got to stop raiding the infirmary for all they’ve got. A high enough dosage will knock you out for sure. If it kills you, then so be it. Beer for guys, wine for the ladies, and Ketamine for random sluts he picks up on street corners.
You’re blinking to clear your hazy vision, feeling around your crushed windpipe to assess the damage, he leans over you like a nurse from hell. The needle breaks your skin easily, so tender, before you have the chance to kick up a fuss, your eyelids turn to lead and close like a toy babydoll’s do when you lean them back.
Fifteen to twenty minutes, google says. Leon gets down to business, strips you of your clothing, takes you to his room, throws you on the king-sized bed that’s warmed only by him. He kept your panties on. They’re light blue and sensible briefs. A buzzer rings out in his head, bzzzt, boring. A million bitches in D.C. and he picked out the most vanilla one. Just his Kennedy luck ain’t it.
One minute. Leon presses his nose to the fabric of your panties, sniffs like a pig does in its trough, isn’t that just the sweetest smell? Fresh cunt. He licks up the print of your pussy, tongue landing on the hardness of your clit.
Five minutes. With your panties soaked with Leon’s spit, he decides to move ‘em to the side, and he groans in delight when he parts your cushioned lips to find that you’re stickier than toffee pudding, drooly cunt reactive to the pads of his fingers, to the tip of his tongue. He pushes back the hood of your bud, gives it a kiss, then another.
Ten minutes. He’s opened you up, gaped you around three thick fingers, Jesus, you’re so tight. It’s like your cunt’s vacuum sealed. Leon’s fingers prod at the squishy opening of your cervix, his thumb circles your clit, presses down like a button and he’s rewarded with another gush of slick. Beer on tap.
You rouse from your forced slumber at fourteen minutes. Huh. He’ll have to up the dosage next time. “Hi there, sleepin’ beauty.” Leon says in a rather cloying voice, amping up the sweetness when in reality he is less than fond of you. The lucky girl. He strokes your head soothingly, hovers over you to keep you in place. The panic sets in almost immediately, flailing limbs, asinine attempts at sentences that crawl up your throat and spill over. Who are you, get off me, get off me, please. What did I do? I’m sorry, please, let me go, let me go, please, I’ll do anything. Albeit your words are slurred, Leon chooses not to hear you.
“Aintcha just the sweetest thing?” He cups your cheeks, gaze so gentle it’s disarming. “I opened you up, didn’t wanna break ya, just wanted you to wake up before we got it on, I’m a real gentleman, you see.” Before he rapes you, he makes sure to ask: you got a rubber by any chance, sweetheart? Oh, and you don’t like that, you really don’t. ‘Cause your face falls fast like a drop tower ride.
The chance to scream is lost on you when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushes them down your burning throat till you choke and drool in an unflattering manner. Your jaw is too lax to clamp down on him. Leon takes this opportunity to smear his leaky, fat tip over your folds, pushes past the barriers of resistance and slides into your pre-gaped cunt. Lucky bitch. Lucky fucking bitch. Getting yourself a piece of Leon S. Kennedy’s dick. He reserves that for only the finest ladies, aka any girl that has a nice set of tits and dark hair, greying roots are a new preference.
He’s fully sheathed inside of you, head rubbing painfully against your cervix. Bruising it from the look of discomfort on your face as you make stupid-sounding noises around his fingers. “Fuck, yeah, that hits the spot.” When’s the last time Leon had his way with a girl, wanton fucking, pulling hair, slapping— they all want it soft and sappy these days. And so did he up until a certain point. Up until he tried to kill himself maybe. Something must’ve flipped in his brain, now he’s overcome with the need to mess your pretty face up.
Leon’s forehead presses to your clammy one, your sweat is salty on his tongue when he kisses your cheek. Slightly sour scent, ugh, what’s he saying? Acting like he’s a fear-smelling B.O.W or some shit. Fuck off, Kennedy. His hips aim upwards when your body shifts due to the thrashing you’re doing, with each thrust he bottoms out with a wet squelch, rolls his hips into you at a force that knocks any chance of breath out of you.
“If you were a good girl,” Leon smiles, all teeth. They glint in the muddy darkness of his room, black-out curtains drawn so not even the moon gets to see what he’s doing to you, “then I’d be fuckin’ you real slow, real nice, rub that little clit till you came.” Your wrists are both cuffed within his grip, pinned over your head as he drives into you, as if his intention is to tear straight through you.
The heat in his gut uncoils, but he’s timed himself well enough, pulls out ‘cause god forbid he knocked you up. Knowing Leon’s luck he’d manage it. Then he puts his cock in your mouth, “I got some pliers out back.” He says in warning as he jerks the shaft and your lips hesitantly close around the tip when he gives you a mean look. Total lie by the way, no matter how abnormal Leon is he does not own a pair of tooth-pulling pliers. Shoots his load down your throat, you splutter and push at his abdomen to get him off.
He pulls out in his own time, lays beside you. All of his chakras are aligned. Apparently there’s seven, but Leon’s only got two. And they’re entirely dependent on whether he’s sucked and fucked till he’s thoroughly satisfied. By god he is. Benedicta tu in mulieribus, Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Iesus. That’s the rest of it right. He remembers now. You might just be his saving grace, Lucky Girl. His very own Sancta Maria, Mater dei. Damn, you hear that, ma? Leon’s got it down to a T. Maybe some more pussy will get him singing out the rest of the prayer. He can get rid of that statuette on the mantle, swap it out with you.
He doesn't get a word out by the time you’re vomiting a vile mixture of acidic yellow and his seed down the front of your chest. Retching as you choke on the gift he’d given you.
Leon takes you to the bathroom, forces you into the shower cubicle as he sprays you down, not even waiting for the water to go warm. “Dry yourself off,” he gestures mildly to where there’s a few towels stored.
You don’t come back out of the bathroom for five minutes, then ten, then twenty. Don’t even answer when he knocks. Goddammit, Leon. Leave your kidnap victim alone in the room with all the razors, why don’t you? Fucking idiot. When he opens the door, you’re huddled in the corner by the toilet, dry heaving into the bowl and sitting in a puddle of your own piss. Stupid fucking baby. Is this what kids are like these days? When he was your age he made it out of Raccoon City alive, and no one made it out of there. No one lived to tell that story. And you’re here pissing your pants ‘cause he’s given you a nice, hard fucking? He pimp slaps you so hard your teeth clatter.
It takes two weeks for his Lucky Girl to be broken in. Not as long as he expected, so he’s pleased. And when Leon’s pleased, he’s nice. So today you get some screen time. You’re curled into his side, the way a baby bird does under its mother’s wing, squinting at his sixty-five inch TV, egregious really, who needs a screen that big? He’s flipping periodically through the channels whenever an ad break comes on. The 7.45PM news is on. He settles on that and you watch mindlessly, no objections.
The speech blurs like white noise to him, Leon’s not focused until your picture pops up on screen, and he just turns to you with this shit-eating grin. Graduation cap and robe on, all dolled up as you make eyes at him through the screen.
“Baby,” he grins wolfishly, ruffles your hair in a teasing manner, “you look so damn cute there!” Leon watches bright-eyed, suddenly enthralled, they list your name, your height, your weight, all stuff he actually didn’t know ‘bout you. Never bothered to ask. You don’t need a name, you’re just his Lucky Girl. “Don’t like the red lip on you,” he comments flippantly, “A red lip is for whores, don’t you think, baby?”
He was right. You got a daddy, a mommy, a brother and a sister. You’ve got it all. Lucky fucking Girl. A broken sob is torn from your throat, jagged and scratchy as you fling yourself halfway across the room, on your knees as you put your grubby fingers all over his shiny screen. Leon lets you. He finds it hilarious actually. Who’d you think you are? Carol Anne from Poltergeist? Like you’re gonna get sucked into the screen, crawling out the other end like Sadako, back into your daddy’s arms.
Our daughter—My girl, she had her whole life ahead of her—My sister wouldn’t do this—She was so excited to move on after graduation—She’s not the type to run away—My daughter—My sister—Our sister—
Your mother is a mess, barely able to get words out with the way she’s blubbering. “She’s layin’ it on a bit thick, don’t you think, babe?” Leon picks up his beer from the side table, slightly heated under the burn of the lamp. “You look like your daddy, cry pretty like your mama though.”
You stare at him horrified. Jaw hanging open as if it’s unhinged, not in the way a snake does when ready to swallow its prey whole. More in the way of a screaming corpse. When the rigor mortis has worn off, secondary flaccidity sets in, and the mandible drops open. Jeez, tough crowd tonight it seems. Don’t make him sew your mouth up, Lucky Girl. Leon wouldn’t dare, that mouth, that throat is precious to him.
CCTV footage plays on the screen, another sob racks your brittle frame, you didn’t know it was him that day, Leon realises. “Oh, baby, that’s where we met, ain’t that funny?” A blurry image of you on the phone, prattling away to your family like the Lucky Girl you are, he’s just out of shot.
We miss her—Please, if you know anything, if you find anything—Please—
“God, let me get my phone, darling, they look so upset I can’t stand it. I might have to call them up and turn myself in. Give ‘em an early Christmas gift, don’t you think?” If Leon went missing, who would look for him? Hunnigan with all her sharp edges, or Claire with her unwilling loyalty to him? Lucky Bitch. It’s making his temper flare, that’s enough TV time for today.
The screen fades out, goes black when he switches it off. “No, no, no,” you chant, “no, no, no, no, please, please—“
“I’m disappointed in you, baby.” Leon says honestly, sips his beer and laughs mirthlessly. “I thought you’d started to like me.”
You’re not listening, too busy fitting on the rug, grasping at the screen as if you can pluck your family out of it and reunite with them on his living room floor. Leon did think you were getting used to him though. Family’s family, blood is thicker than water. Cum is also thicker than water. And that’s what he’s pumped down your throat nightly in hopes of it clogging up your brain, so you think of nothing but him. Those dogs in South Korea, the ones Claire told him about, he’s got his own special method to take care of your vocal cords. No snipping, no surgery needed. Just the throat training method.
“C’mere, lucky girl.” He clicks his tongue as if he’s calling out for a dog. You lay unmoving, rocking back and forth, whispering to yourself like a crazy person. Bit creepy. Leon stands, he grabs you by the hair and drags you to sit at his feet near the couch. Simple and effective. Backhands you for good luck. He needs it. “Stop your cryin’ I’m getting sick of it.” Leon says, brows wrinkled as he lowers his sweats, brings your head down to rest on his thigh. Your tear-stained cheeks turn him on, the doleful eyes, runny nose. It’s hot. His sad little girl.
“Suck it.” Leon taps the tip against your pouty lips, swollen from his earlier kisses, coats them in his pearly pre, “I won’t ask twice, sweetheart.” You open your mouth, take him like clockwork. He don’t like that attitude. So he pushes your head down on his cock, watches your throat bob, uncomfortably full. Leon pinches your nose, listens to how you panic so nice around a mouthful of dick, gagging in a way you never have before. Not a gag that indicates inexperience, but one that is full of sheer terror, nails leaving red marks on his thighs as you drag them down his skin. Ouch. He’s gotta trim those down.
“You get it now, babe?” Leon hums, he lets you off this time, “Do what I say and it’ll be fine, yeah?”
“Yes, yes, yes, Leon,” you nod furiously through gulps of air, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” Fuck. Another one of your panic attacks. He’s not got the patience to deal with this. “I won’t—“ A wheeze, “ I won’t do it—“ A croak, “I won’t do it again.” You’ve learned to handle yourself. Rub your chest with your right hand, stare at the ceiling till you calm down. Leon’s dick is still rock hard. Ready to crack open a walnut.
“Good girl,” he nods, “then get on with it.”
There is nothing you’ve done in particular to set Leon off. He’s just had a bad day. Hunnigan’s senses are much too acute, she thought something was off with him. That put him on edge. So he’s like a ticking time bomb. Just waiting for you to make one wrong move. And you do. You say no to him, pleadingly so, shaking your head as you look at him with your fairytale fawn eyes. Meekly admit that you’re sore and achy and it hurts.
“That’s not your decision to make, sweetheart.” Leon informs you, he grabs a roll of duct tape from the kitchen, nicks at the edge with his teeth and tears a strip off. You bristle, completely still, a thousand thoughts running through that pea-sized brain of yours. “But I’ll be nice today, been waitin’ to fuck your ass anyway.” He puts the strip on your cunt, over your chubby lips to hold them together, it feels strange and icky. The last thing Leon wants to see is blood. He sees enough of that daily. So he’s generous when it comes to prep, busts out the cherry-flavoured lube today, squirts a decent amount on his fingers, cock, and your tighter hole.
You squirm, he watches the unreadable expression on your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest. You’re nervous, but you’re wet, and that makes his chest swell in pride. Lucky Girl finally gets it. One finger slips past the ring of tight muscle, Ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, there’s one last line he’s missing. It’ll come to him. Two fingers in, he scissors you open, spits on it just ‘cause it turns him on to see it run down your crack.
That’s enough, Leon thinks when he fits the third. He wants to make it hurt a little. Wants to feel like a big, strong man. He sits back on his knees, flips you over onto your front, he likes you this way. Just takes you in, how your tits hang low, brushing against the mattress when Leon presses a hand down on your back to keep you from arching. He takes his dick in hand and in he goes, easier than he thought. He wonders if you can cum just like this, with his dick pounding your ass.
He fucks like an animal, you gasp and yelp below him, unable to handle it as his hips smack against yours. The duct tape is starting to peel ‘cause your pussy is fucking soaked. That alone makes his balls tighten as he turns you back over to do damage control, and ‘cause he wants to see your face while he fucks. You look like you’re lovin’ it. Alright. So you’re an anal slut. Got it. He pushes back into your ass, groans when you clench around him, the duct tape peeling at the corners, he can’t handle it. Et in hora mortis nostrae. Leon’s mind blanks when he cums, fills your ass and his limp cock slips out. Shit. A-fucking-men. That’s right, he remembers. That’s how you end a prayer.
You don’t cum. He tears the duct tape off clean. You let out a loud ‘Ow, Leon!’ and frown at him. Beads of arousal stick to the piece of tape, your pussy is pulsing, walls fluttering around nothing. Leon kisses your swollen clit, rubs it steadily till you cream on his tongue, sweeter than molasses his Lucky Girl is.
“Leon?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you.” You tell him shyly, gaze at him with this dumb fucking smile on your dollface that makes his heart squeeze. God, he’s gotta keep you around, his lucky charm.
#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#resident evil smut#leon s kennedy x you#resident evil x reader
735 notes
·
View notes
Text
x : BOX OF SURPRISES :*+ﾟ
in which: sampo has something for you and you fall a little more in love with him.
warnings: 1k wc, FLUFF (slight angst), reader is a little mean :,) but it's bc sampo's annoying, gn!merchant!reader, banter, seemingly unrequited feelings, ambiguous relationship?
a/n: need this pathetic sop of a man so badly it's not even funny. anyways, enjoy! pls rb if u liked it :D
“sampo, what is the meaning of this?” setting down the heavy boxes of goods with a huff, suspicion stirs in your gut.
“did you not see my text earlier? i could have sworn you read it,” he hums, trailing off thoughtfully as he looks at you through his swept-aside strands of hair.
you look away from the carefree glint in his eyes whilst ignoring the pounding of your heart.
“i’m working, sampo- being an ethical and trustworthy merchant is a hard job, y’know?”
the man laughs, boisterous and loud. a migraine is coming, it's only natural to get one after dealing with its human embodiment.
“don’t you have other things to do?” you mutter.
“what, other than talking with my favourite fellow merchant?”
“you mean terrorising.”
sampo laughs again. this time, he shuts his eyes close and grins so wide that he flashes his annoyingly perfect teeth. it’s so painful that he’s so beautiful, if only that could excuse his horrendous personality (you adore him).
pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, he sighs wistfully. “this is why i love talking to you, never a dull moment with you, y/n.”
you try not to let his flattery get to you. besides, he probably says this to all of his competitors just to butter them up, breaking their walls before inevitably taking them and distributing their resources to consumers at cheaper prices.
“whatever, sampo. will you leave me alone now?”
“hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. you try not to look at the exposed skin that sits above. “the business day is over. don’t you have some time to spare for little old me?”
“the business day may be over for me but never for crooks like you. besides. i need to pack up and i want to go home, so i don’t appreciate any delays.”
“you think of me as a mere ‘delay’?” sampo gestures to himself, all grandiose and dramatics. “i’m hurt, and here i was thinking that we had a connection.”
there’s a part of you that hopefully yearns for him to expand on the ‘connection’ he so speaks of, but the desire fades as quickly as it appears, replaced with dejection instead. to cross the line with sampo koski would be fatal for your business and you fear that you were already toeing the boundaries. tolerating and talking to him for goodwill was one thing, but going ahead and falling for him was another.
furthermore, you don’t like the feeling that he knows about how you feel. everywhere you turn, sampo is there, leaning against the wall, looking like temptation itself as he toys with those small blades of his. they’re kind of like boomerangs, but you’re not too sure.
there’s a lot about sampo you’re not too sure about- perhaps if you weren’t a competing merchant, you would have tried to learn them all.
“you drive me insane,” you murmur, packing up all the leftover goods into a crate.
“let me help you,” he offers, picking up some goods and sorting them without permission. you have half a mind to slap him away, but against the better judgement of your brain, you allow him to assist.
when the crate is filled, sampo walks over to grab another empty box, passing it to you. you eye him suspiciously and the blue-haired merchant is quick to make a comment on your speculatory glance.
“why are you looking at me like that?”
“why are you… helping me?”
“what? is it so wild that sampo koski can be of assistance? i have some good in my heart, ya know,” he sings, reaching over your stall to adjust the twisted strap of your outfit.
sampo winks at you when he meets your gaze again.
you hate the way your body reacts to his fleeting touch, and the way you want more. you want to feel how his hands would fit in yours, or around your waist, or holding your face, or-
“speechless, are we now?” chuckles the merchant. “i normally elicit this reaction-”
shaking your thoughts away, you cut him off with a slam of your crate, defeated by the betrayal of your own wandering mind. “sampo.”
for a moment, shock shines in his eyes, his hair bouncing as he jolts. you also can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to run your hands through it. if he won’t share his heart then perhaps his hair care routine could do, after all, it is unfair to have such luminous hair despite running around all day.
“didn’t you have something for me?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation bleed into your tone. “that’s why you’re here, no?”
he presses a hand to his chest and acts like he's been shot. “so you read my message and chose not to reply? i’m hurt, y/n, how cou-”
“sampo. please, i’m in no mood to banter. can we get this exchange over and done with?”
for a flash of a second, you delude yourself into seeing a slight furrow in sampo’s eyebrows, expression moulding into something akin to sadness. it’s a face that will haunt your dreams, you think, especially with the way he glanced away from you, doubt evident in his body language as he nods shyly.
it's not like sampo to break eye contact, but he recovers too quickly for you to comment on it and then further shuts you up when he presents an innocently pretty box. through common sense, it looks like a box of chocolates, but because you know sampo koski, you’re a little frightful of the contents inside.
“wh-what’s the meaning of this?” you ask, eyeing the gift carefully.
sampo pushes it further towards you. “open it and find out!”
“it’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?”
“do you think so little of me?”
“yes, because you trick people like this, sampo, by presenting a seemingly innocent box of chocolates and then bam- they blow up in-”
“okay, okay, i promise this isn’t one of them ones that go ‘bam’! trust me!”
"okay... i'll trust you on this one."
with a little reluctance, you take the outstretched box, scepticism written all over your face. preparing for the worst, you untie the little bow and gently lift off the cover, melting at the contents within.
chocolates of various sizes and design litter the inside and the cuteness of it is enough to make you melt, the small smile appearing on your face only a tiny indication of the affection growing within you. not to mention, these sweets don’t look like the cheap mimics that the underworld produces. how did sampo get his hands on these, and why would he give them to you?
suddenly laced with guilt at the unnecessary attitude and rudeness you showed him earlier, you look up with a ‘thank you’ and apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s gone. disappeared into thin air at the crumbling of your heart's walls.
disappointed, you sigh and make a mental note to thank him the next time you see him. resuming your packing up, you’re unaware of the new brightness your expression carries, and how you move around with a little more bounce to your step.
hugging the gift close to you, a certain merchant lays low nearby and watches how enthused you seem by the new gift. sampo concludes then and there that your smile is priceless and he would do anything to be the cause of it.
if only he could tell you.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#my pookie...#exams are over and the first thing i write is sampo. what is happening.#anyways.#sampo x reader#sampo koski x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai x reader#sampo fluff#sampo x reader fluff
471 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’ve just watched a couple of the TPs post race reactions, as well as saw the strategies that the teams used and we can conclude a couple of things from it:
The Mercedes power unit had quiet a noticeable presence today, especially with Williams, who fun fact, also take a lot of the legal components that they are allowed from Mercedes, according to James Vowles (Zak Brown, where did you dip to now). Alex and Logan both had the pace, and could have been in points today. But the power units on both the cars, in addition to Logan’s steering wheel caused them the race. But the issues were not only in the Williams, Mercedes themselves had issues, with the batteries not working properly or dying. Mercedes, what is wrong with the power units after securing multiple multi year contracts?
You can take the man out of Ferrari but not the Ferrari out of the man (Laurent Mekies I’m looking at you). The way RB handled today’s race was actually shit. Again this team was close to points, even closer than the Williams with Yuki P11. But the way they handled the race, and especially in those last few laps, just proves that Laurent still doesn’t have the handles of how Red Bull teams work, he’s, you could say, still stuck in the Ferrari haze. The car is actually good, which we saw in testing and the data, but the team handling was just shit today, and with this, Red Bull could overlook both of them, even drop one of the 2, for Liam, who was promised (maybe even signed?) a seat for 2025.
Nico is absolutely unlucky, and that is a ghost that is hunting him down. Man had a good start, but that collision with Lance cost him his race, which he could have finished in the point. Also, that Haas has pace, it’s not so bad. Let’s see if the absence of Guenther and the presence of a more technical TP is going to impact the team.
Zhou is impressive. He gained quiet a lot, with gaining 6 places and the car is not that great. I did not know his game.
Ferrari pulled a Ferrari. That’s all that could be said. Charles was very confident yesterday. He even was visibly very upset with the fact that he got P2, to today. Like, yes we don’t know if there was something, but fucking it up to the extent that the car is dangerous to even stop. This man just signed a fucking multi year contract, don’t make him regret it.
And finally, we now understand Red Bull’s runs. The runs that were only (or mainly) on C1, C2 and C3 only. They were able to properly visualize the race. And the fact that we saw how everyone in Red Bull expected the car to be slower shows that they have cooked (Adrain Newey, looks like you did it again). And the fact that these runs of Free Practices and Testing showed correct data of this track, not really focusing on topping the time sheets or any of that shit. They put their heads down and focused on the time sheets that mattered, focusing one race at a time, as well as visualize how the car is going to be and how it will work and react, gathering the data needed for checking the car (in football terms: partido a partido).
So yeah, these are kind of my initial post race analysis. Still want to geek more, but I guess this is enough for now?
(I wasn’t going to be able to sleep until I got this off my brain or I would have been overthinking all night long)
I love this analysis so much.
The way VCARB fucked Yuki over by forcing him to let Daniel overtake and proceeding to not even being able to overtake the fucking Haas in front of him is absolutely appalling. I know Yuki has some temper issues he definitely needs to work on when he's in the car, but I fully support his anger this time. The move was completely uncalled for, and VCARB desperately need to realize that they can't put their eggs in the wrong basket. No matter what his die-hard fans say, Daniel is not the future of F1 and Red Bull.
With the exception of Max pulling a very Max race and being superior to the rest of the grid, my favorite part of yesterday's race was definitely Zhou. He did so well, and it was such a pleasure to see him finish P11. I really hope this season will be good for him because I so desperately want him to succeed.
Ferrari being Ferrari was, sadly, not even remotely surprising. But, it's only the first race of the season and Charles still being able to drag that broken fucking car to P4 is impressive as hell.
Red Bull has handled testing and the first race weekend masterfully, and their 1-2 finish yesterday was truly deserved. I have a feeling this season will be a good one for them, even if their domination might not be quite as extreme.
(I hope you've had a great night's sleep, lovely. ❤️)
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
Idk how much this will help if at all but I’d like to make a @niallermybabe appreciation post. If you see this and you’re one of Bella’s mooties, please feel free to rb and add all the things she’s done for you and how she’s made your life better.
When I first re-joined this app back in November I was convinced nobody would care and I’d abandon the blog after maybe a couple weeks. Then I had @cc-horan28 reach out to me (love you lots my og mootie) and one of the first things she told me to do was to message Bells. I put it off for weeks cause I felt awkward reaching out without really anything to say. When I eventually did message her she IMMEDIATELY welcomed me with so much love and excitement and I instantly felt that she is such a special person. So incredibly inclusive, so supportive, so lovely, just overall a 10/10 human.
One of the first things that come to mind when I think of Bells and how she has made my life infinitely better was the day we lost our German Shepherd Nim. She literally flooded my inbox with asks filled with the most random questions; asking me to come up with nicknames for certain names, playing this or that, just silly things to take my mind off of the loss. She was then messaging me afterwards making sure I’m okay, sending me hugs. Just sweet little Bella things.
I remember a time when she accidentally called me “sis” instead of “sib” (cause I’m enby and whatnot) and her sweet little soul got herself so wound up thinking I was angry with her over it. She was so upset by the thought of hurting me, I honestly thought she couldn’t get any sweeter but she did just with how much she cares about these small things. The way she gets so excited whenever I tell her I’m proud of her is just the most wholesome thing ever. Anytime I’m excited with her about something she gets herself MORE excited and I love it so much. The way she would do anything for me and every single one of her mooties, I have no words to describe how incredible she is.
I work with dogs, and istg every other female dog is named Bella. It used to really annoy me cause it’s just such an overused dog name here. Now every time I hear the name I can’t help but smile because it reminds me of my little Bella Bean.
Every time I message her she’s so excited to hear from me. Every time we interact I get so excited. Every time I see her name pop up I smile.
So Bells, if you see this. Please understand how much light and positivity you have added to my life. Please know that every time I think of you I do it with a smile on my face. I may have only gotten to know you a couple months ago but you made that short time feel like forever. A world without you in it would just be so wrong, and I don’t ever want to experience that. All of these small things that you have done/continue to do for me make my life better. Every single one. You could message me the word “coconut” with absolutely no context and it would make my day. I don’t care what you say, as long as I get to talk to you as much as time zones and responsibilities allow. Because you are worth so much. So so so damn much.
Your value doesn’t decrease based on someone else’s inability to see your worth.
I love you so much sweets. You’re my lil bella bean, yeah? ❤️
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something Bad is going (or Has) happened to Luka Couffaine
a theory!
Listen. Few love Luka Couffaine as much as I do. And there’s been a Good Deal of foreshadowing that something Bad is going to happen to him. Or, since we already have episodes 16 and 18, something already has. It begins in season four, and I think, most accurately, his downfall begins after Wishmaker.
My theory here is that something bad happens to him in season five, and I’m predicting it’s going down Episode 15, which is ‘Intuition’, named after Sass’s powers, iconically, the only miraculous he ever used (he should’ve gotten one in the kwami swap i will die on this hill, regardless of their reasoning). As of right now, all we have of this episode is the name and the rest is mere speculation. Could happen later, could happen not at all (doubtful), but this is what I’m predicting, and if I am wrong, well, I’ve been wrong before lol.
This ended up a Bit longer than I anticipated, with the pictures (there are pictures for evidence under the cut lol i’m not one to do a CHUNK of text) and ngl overwhelming number of ominous signs pointing towards him, so it’s under the cut. I do also acknowledge my biases- I think he’s a much more main character than the creators are allowing him to be. In my defense, I love him?
Now, when I say something bad, I’m preparing myself for them just killing him (they wouldn’t, right?) but it could be a vague injury or sending him away, just something that keeps him off my screen, which is, arguably as bad as death? The thing is, everything points to something ‘vague bad’, and from that I can’t predict more, so I’ll keep it vague.
Season 4, Episode 22- Ephemeral
Ephemeral is the First Time we get to see him after discovering their identities in Wishmaker (a moment I have written separate essays on before). As far as I interpret the episode, his initial plan is to tell Marinette he knows she’s Ladybug (eventually) and accepts he’s instead going to ‘know’ Chat Noir’s for everyone’s benefit.
I’ve written other posts on the Importance and Luka’s positioning in Ephemeral (and how the whole thing could’ve been solved with a simple conversation or. believe it or not. the Truth), so I’m not going to say much here, but the One point to be considered is:
It’s not safe for one person to know both Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities.
Which is why she can’t know his, and he can’t know hers. And Luka finds himself knowing both. From this very moment I knew something bad was doomed to happen to my favorite blueberry. He got put in a bad situation after, honestly, a very bad season for him.
Season 5, Episode - Determination
This one is. A Reach but someone rb and tagged one of my posts so I cannot just move on from this. We know there’s a Viperion wax figure, we see it covered and also lined up to fight (BUT THEY DOn”T aCTUALLy FIGHT HIM), and he’s just straight up not included on the poster. Seeing the wax figure it’s clear that they Know of his existence, but he’s just...not there.
Some attempt at foreshadowing? I personally, do not know, but have been, without my consent, told it might be. (don’t write bible spoilers in the tags of my posts i read them okay???????) I am simply acknowledging this.
Season 5, Episode 12- Perfection
Luka has been in two (2) episodes so far in season five (LESS THAN WAYHEM MAY I ADD), and Perfection he’s bARELY there. (in his defense if I was in his exact situation, I would Also keep my distance), but he Is playing when Adrien’s singing, and they focus on him....at an interesting point.
(first. funny bc he was silencer lol)
First for real. Lukanette fans are always allowed to mourn the ridiculously short dating time on my posts- the emphasis on him and Adrien using the melody talk that’s taken verbatim from Wishmaker is also another essay for another time.
Second, he knows. Which, in general, makes most of his appearances in the show post Wishmaker (only twice in season five so far) hilarious, but in this situation, why they chose to emphasize him on the heart beating line. The silence one I get, but why would they linger so long on such a line? Foreshadowing. that’s my answer. They’re going to kill him. /j
I could also point out how far apart he stands from everyone but I’m also aware his animation budget is like $5 and half a pbj so I’m not looking too much into that, but here:
Season 5, Episode 16- Protection
This episode is the first After when I think things are going to happen, immediately following Intuition, and Luka is...very oddly not there.
It’s clear they had Every Intention of Luka being there when they planned this date, even including him in the comic, but he was replaced by Nino at last minute (Luka and Nino are the same person truthers really got a +1 on that line lol), which is...a choice but more on that never.
Luka was obviously abruptly replaced, which continues to lend to the idea that something in the immediate past (previous episode- oh! That’s Intuition!) and based on the leaked ideas I’ve stumbled across for episode 14, I really don’t think he’s in that one.
What gets to me in this scene is that, yes, they’re uncomfortable (with every right to be), put on display by their friends, but they look at each other right when they say his name. Like they know something happened. This scene adds more fuel to my ‘vague bad’ idea than straight up killing him (they wouldn’t), where likely, Ladybug and Chat Noir know More as to what happened (as well as Juleka, but she has no reason nor desire to speak up regarding her brother).
The Tweets
I, cannot for the life of me find the tweet that this is originally mentioned in (in my defense i did screen shot it and i have over 1200 images in my miraculous folder, but it might be in my screencap folder? we’ll never know). But I do have the Gloob post regarding it:
[translation: who was that phrase for? ‘Your heart has been broken, you will never use the power of second chance again’]
Oh, he’s never gonna use the power of second chance again, that’s for certain, but I do have reason to believe it’s not because they don’t get the miraculouses back (haven’t read the bible spoilers on that I’m just assuming that’s how it all ends), it’s rather that he doesn’t get to use them.
Luka has a lot of potential built up as being so important to the plot, with the ideas of the four being foils to each other (Kagami is getting plenty of screentime for this (in a good way)), but because he knows. I can’t fathom when this is going to play out, or why they would make him know unless something important comes from it. Then again, between seasons they could’ve just changed their mind about his role in the show (*cough* the Couffaine’s always *cough*).
Then again, they also could have them find out each others identities before Luka gets/wants to tell them and then it’s just a waste but. I’ll write another essay on that if it happens.
I keep saying ‘I can’t believe they’re going to kill Luka Couffaine’ to prepare myself that something Very Terrible is going/has happened to him, but I honestly don’t believe that Fully. The people I have discussed this with have all, for the most part, agreed they’re likely going to send him away at least until the end of the season, and with this idea there’s so many different reasons they could use. Go on tour with Jagged? Sure. Let him learn more about being a luthier? I could see that. Study abroad? I’m still confused as to what type of school he actually goes to but why not. Something involving Monarch based on that last idea? God I hope not, but it’s a reason.
also, since I began working on this, this was revealed:
Which is something I personally have been saying this whole time, but also Big Yikes, I’m just worried for my favorite blueberry. I hope he’s okay.
#let's go#luka couffaine#mlb theories#ml theories#miraculous ladybug#ml#mlb#mlb season 5 spoilers#ml season 5 spoilers#i just! love him! okay!#mlb intuition#viperion#listen when that was tweeted nearly cried#i've been looking out for him THIS WHOLE TIME
10 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Triple Threats
Congratulations to our winners this week! @bread-into-toast with Maestros Book-Keeper, @ghoulcaclulator64 with Concrete Crush, and @starch255 with Backstreet Backstabber!
~
Maestros Book-Keeper
I really like what this card is doing. Basically, this card leans into the sacrifice synergies of the RB draft archetype, but also has some synergy with connive and the few self-mill cards. Being a two-mana 2/1 is a nice statline for a card that gets free damage in, and it also makes it big enough for some of the casualty 2 cards. The cost is a little weird but I think is fine. I know the blades from Alara has their issues but I think this set could allow for one cycle of these. My only complaint is how hard it is to track, especially because it tracks things that happen before it hits the field. There have been a few end-step triggers at common prior that checked if creatures died, but this one counting other zones makes it a little tougher, especially because there’s already a lot of other things to think about when conniving. But as a one-off it might be fine, plus it only being one trigger at a specific point in time helps. Lastly, minor thing, I think I’d prefer if it said each opponent just for fewer clicks. But yeah, very solid card!
-
Concrete Crush
You know, I would not have guessed soul’s fire was a common, but I guess there is precedent for this powerful of a burn spell, probably. A kill spell is a good place to put a strict three color card, since it’s going to be useful no matter what point of the game you hit your third color. Slapping an Unleash Fury onto it also shouldn’t be ignored. While both of those cards are monored, it still feels like it’s all three colors. I was going to say that this card felt too powerful, since soul’s might is quite good and this has extra text, but that extra text is pretty hard to hit and so is three color. However, the difficulty of that power doubling is a lot of the fun. Players will feel really cool when they get to play a creature and double its power in the same turn, but also the math is simple enough that they’re unlikely to hold it back trying to get that value. Yes, you could double your 2 power creature next turn, but you could also just target your 4 power creature right now. One of the big issues with cards like this is the blowout potential, AKA killing the targeted creature in response, but this card subtly encourages you to use it on blitz creatures, meaning that they “waste” a removal spell on a creature that will draw you a card when it dies anyway. This card is also insane with Mr. Orfeo, almost so insane I’d be scared to print this in the same set, but if you play a four power creature, move to combat to get the trigger, don’t attack, then play this to 16 their face… well, maybe that’s okay? Actually, targeting a crew captain here would be ridiculous, because the attack would be free, and that would only be a total of 6 mana, albeit perfect double jund mana. I think this is very powerful, maybe too powerful, but it’s very smart in how it’s designed.
-
Backstreet Backstabber
Very very simple card, and I really like it. Menace on a 1/4 is already pretty nice, especially in this set, since if they want to block it they’ll usually end up putting one of the many one toughness creatures in the set in front of it that you can then pick off. However, the activated ability is what makes this card. A 4/1 menace is terrifying, since it can hit for a lot of damage if unblocked and would require two 5 toughness creatures to block without trading with something. That kind of makes me want to up the cost of the ability, since it’s very easy to make this a 2 for 1, and there’s not a lot of ways to punish the 1 toughness at instant speed in this set. Speaking of costs, that effect is begging to be a hybrid cost. Both red and blue can get +N/-N effects, and making it hybrid would have allowed the two other families at least a chance to activate it, maybe if it were 1 generic and 2 hybrid R/U. But just because I would have done it doesn’t mean it’s right; I still think this card is very well made. Also, hey! I recognize that name in the flavor text! Wrong art deco bottled city!
~
Good job everyone! This was a very difficult challenge, but a lot of you did very well, and the runners-up should be up soon.
-Mod Mr. ShinyObject
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
he accidentally hurts you while sparring
DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader
warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s
notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3
━━ diluc;
you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried
he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone
but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner
lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀
“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.
“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”
red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.
“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.
but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.
he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.
and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.
it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.
he couldn’t help it though.
“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.
tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.
“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”
you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.
he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.
“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?
“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.
he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.
you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”
“of course, dove.”
━━ kaeya;
he actually likes sparring with you
he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you
and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes
plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3
“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.
a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.
“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.
“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”
“y/n!”
the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.
“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”
“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.
his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.
“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”
he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.
“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”
“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”
“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”
“...fine.”
━━ xiao;
good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place
it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down
needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it
“what if i hurt you, y/n?”
“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”
“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”
“and if you can’t come?”
“...”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.
“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”
“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”
a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.
you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.
his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.
his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.
“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.
xiao did not cry.
he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.
“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.
you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.
“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”
it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.
“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”
he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”
“yeah.”
“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”
“of course not.”
━━ childe;
he has mixed feelings about sparring with you
of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it
plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else
but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt
he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful
“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.
“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.
“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.
you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.
this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.
he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you
“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”
for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’
“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”
you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.
“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.
‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’
“whatever ya want, love.”
“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”
#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#xiao x reader#childe x reader#diluc x you#diluc x y/n#kaeya x you#kaeya x y/n#xiao x you#xiao x y/n#childe x you#childe x y/n#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fic#genshin impact fanfic#diluc#kaeya#xiao#childe#tartaglia x reader#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n#diluc comfort#kaeya comfort#xiao comfort#childe comfort#tartaglia comfort#genshin x you
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
in which you’re prince harry’s personal bodyguard.
a/n: hi angels! i’m SO EXCITED to be finally sharing this story, and i’m really proud of this piece! like it’s genuinely one of my favorites i’ve ever written and one of my babies, so i can’t wait to hear what you all think! this story is inspired by gold rush by taylor swift, and this story immediately came to me once i heard the song. so, enjoy and please reblog and leave feedback!
thank you to my best beta and friend tina @sunflowers-styles and miss zoey @serendipitystyles who screamed with me when i just started writing it, ily both!
WORD COUNT: 24.7k of prince!harry x guard!yn (it’s gonna be a rollercoaster <3)
WARNINGS: ANGST (genuinely a lot of it), smut, mentions of death and disease
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SINKING SHIPS’ i’d love to know your thoughts!
pls rb to share! <3
.・。.・゜
‘Eyes like sinking ships
On waters so inviting
I almost jump in.’
With a slight groan, you were taken out of your slumber by the sunlight that was seeping through your curtains. The birds were chirping away quite loudly this morning—acting like there weren’t people who were sleeping at seven in the morning, but early birds get the worm, right?
You sat up, stretching your arms towards the ceiling as you let out an inhumane sound that was very ‘unladylike’ before freshening up in the restroom. After putting on your regular and daily uniform: black slacks, white crisp shirt with a black tie, and black formal shoes—you opted out on wearing a blazer since you were going to be out for most of the day—before you headed towards the kitchen that felt like miles away because the Royal House was huge.
The chefs were already up, bright and early, ready to feed the Royal family. The aroma of French toast and sautéed vegetables filled your senses, making your mouth water.
“Morning, everyone!” You greeted happily once you entered the kitchen.
“Goodmorning, Y/N!” The chefs welcomed you into their kitchen in sync. You softly smiled, walking over to the fruit basket at the edge of the marble counter, grabbing a banana and orange before walking over to the island and leaning your elbows on it as you watched the chefs cook.
You always loved watching them work on their art, it was quite mesmerizing—the way they sautéed the vegetables, tossing the contents into the air was always something you loved ever since you were young. They were always so proud and humble about their work, presenting it with a satisfied smile as satiated empty stomachs.
Suddenly, the side door opened, revealing Maria tugging on the wagon that carried basketfuls of fresh vegetables and fruits. You quickly walked towards her, grabbing the basket from the wagon to set it down on the counter. The baskets were always quite heavy, and you always made sure to help her out every morning since she wakes up at sunrise to pick out and wash the produce for the day.
“Thank you, my dear,” Maria said, smiling.
“Of course, Maria. These are beautiful.” You handpicked vegetables and fruits. “One day, I’ll wake up earlier to help you out in the morning, so you’re not all by yourself,” you suggested. Maria was like a mother to you, and you truly looked up to her ever since you started to remember things. You never really knew who your real mom was because she had passed away when you were just a year old, so you saw Maria as a motherly figure.
You remembered when you first visited the Royal House; your father, Josiah, used to be a stableman and would bring you to work with him every day, occasionally letting you ride on the horses with him if it was allowed. Josiah and Maria had a mutual liking towards one another, but neither of them had acted upon it. They had just simply acknowledged the fact they had feelings for one another. So, you were around Maria a lot, and it wasn’t forced because you genuinely took a liking towards her and she started becoming a female figure in your life that you never really had.
“Oh, you’re so sweet, but that’s not needed. I know how exhausting your day is, so get those few extra hours of sleep, okay?” She raised her brows at you, and you chuckled, nodding your head at her. “And besides, I’ve actually got some help…” she trailed off in suspense.
It was your turn to raise your brows at her. “Really? And who might that be?” A tint of pinkness hit Maria’s cheeks as she looked down, occupying herself by taking the produce out of the basket.
“Just…Nathaniel.”
“Nathaniel, really?”
“Yeah, he’s nice, yeah? Handsome. Funny. Kind,” she started to sound like she was convincing you, but you really didn’t need all that much convincing because you actually knew him.
“I know Nathaniel, but thanks for the little recap,” you joked, chuckling as Maria blushed. “So, do you like him?” You asked.
“I mean…I don’t know. Maybe,” she admitted shyly. You gave her an encouraging smile because you knew that she was only shy to confess the truth because she had been in love with your father.
“Good—that’s good. Well, if you are taking a liking towards him, don’t run away from your feelings,” you told her sternly as if you were the mother now. “You deserve to be happy and in love!”
“Suppose you’re right. I just feel…bad.”
“Don’t be. He would want you to be happy, I promise,” you reminded Maria.
You could definitely understand why she felt bad about the fact that she was interested in Nathaniel. Maria and Josiah were in love, once upon a time, but ever since your father passed away two years ago, due to his heart condition, it was difficult for Maria to move on from the love of her life. With regret wilting down on her face, she asked herself why she didn’t bother to do anything about her love for him, and she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do to be interested in someone else. However, you constantly reminded her that Josiah wanted you two to have a great life, containing a lot of love and laughter.
Looking at the wall clock above the chocolate brown cabinets, you realized that it was a bit past seven, so duties for the day were calling. You kissed Maria on the cheek, telling her that you’ll see her during lunch before bidding the rest of the staff goodbye as you headed out of the kitchen
Your clad black shoes clicked against the shiny and polished tiled floor, echoing the corridor of the Royal House as you walked towards the West Wing of the house; the staff and employees all lived on the East Wing, and it was quite a walk from one end to the other.
Knocking on the tall and heavy door, you heard absolute silence on the other side, which wasn’t abnormal. So, you knocked once more, hearing no movement before you allowed yourself inside of the bedroom of the Prince.
As you expected, he was sprawled out onto his large bed, too large for one person, with his curls covering his forehead. His mouth was slightly agape with puffs of breaths coming out as he was in deep sleep. You opened the long curtains, letting the sunshine enter his room before walking over to the side of his bed, placing the two fruits on his bedside table so he could fuel himself as he’s getting ready; you gently tapped him on the shoulder.
“Your Highness, It’s time to wake up,” you softly said. With no response, you shook his shoulder a bit harder to get him out of his deep slumber. “Your Highness, it’s past seven.”
The Prince groaned, eyes still closed as he began to writhe around the bed. You took a step back from the bed, waiting for him to wake up fully before greeting him. He buried his face into the pillow, refusing to budge, as an exhausted muffled groan came out of his mouth.
Once his eyes were fully open and he was aware of his surroundings and consciousness, he turned his head towards you, giving you a look as if to momentarily remember who you were; you gave him a smile to start off his day.
“Good Morning—agh!” You let out an unexpected squeal, cut off by the Prince’s large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you down onto the bed with him. His lips immediately attacked your neck and face, peppering your skin with his affection. You laughed softly, trying to keep your voice down in case anyone heard you, but you couldn’t help it because it tickled. “Your Highness!” You pushed his body away from yours, and you knew he only pulled back because of the name you had called him.
He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that, Princess,” he joked slightly.
You raised your brows, mouth slightly open as you playfully patted his chest. “And I told you to stop calling me that, Harry.”
“Then I’ll stop calling you that once you stop calling me ‘Your Highness,’” he said in a mocking tone before he raised his brows to see what you were going to respond with because he knew that you loved being called ‘Princess’ even if you were far from actually becoming one. You two would have these playful arguments on which nicknames to call one another, and ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Highness’ were both a bit of an inside joke now.
You simply just rolled your eyes. “Not fit to be a Princess.” Harry’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist as both of your heads rested against the same pillow. You loved mornings like these, and although it was unusual to be sleeping in different rooms, it had to happen under certain circumstances.
“You definitely are fit enough to be a Princess because you’ll be mine…soon…one day,” he lightened up the air, pressing a kiss to your cheek and forehead. “Perfect for me, I swear.” You smiled admiringly at the Prince, feeling incredibly grateful for him and his presence.
For five years, your love for him had only increased when you thought that your heart couldn’t get any bigger. But Harry somehow made it happen; he filled your beating organ with so much love and devotion, making you feel so overwhelmed with happiness that you felt like you could burst any minute. You’ve known Harry since you were a little girl, but you didn’t play with him much since you had to stay close to Josiah. But when you did, you two would always go riding together; it was an innocent and pure friendship, and even when you were younger, you would find yourself missing your friend, who just so happened to be the Prince of the country.
Five-year-old Y/N simply understood that he was a Prince, but you understood it just like the Disney movies. So, you and seven-year-old Harry would play Prince and Princess for fun. Every morning you would tell Josiah to dress you up in a pretty dress because your “Prince was waiting on the West Wing,” as you said.
As the years went by and you two played less of Prince and Princess, but you and Harry were still inseparable. He was your best friend—still is, and you couldn’t be more happy that you two had never drifted off into the fog that vanishes every afternoon.
With how close you were to Prince Harry, you realized you had feelings for him when you were thirteen, and it wasn’t until you were twenty when you two got together. Harry had told you that he’s liked you since he was seven, and fifteen years later, he finally had the balls to tell you. Typically for some, it wouldn’t be the most ideal relationship since your blood didn’t bleed royalty, but you’d rather have him in private rather than displaying your relationship to the entire world, especially his family.
The bubble that was his room, was your hideout. The sanctuary where you felt most comfortable because it was where he slept in, as his scent roamed around the room, making it feel like home. You loved how you immediately felt safe and calm when you opened his bedroom room door, especially when you saw him peacefully sleeping; it was your favorite thing to do.
Harry didn’t mind, either. He knew how brutal his family could be if they ever found out about your relationship with him, and no matter how much he wanted to shout his love for you from the top of his lungs to the world, they truly didn’t need that because the only people who were the most important in this relationship were you and Harry. As long as the two of you knew that you were in love with one another, that’s all that mattered.
He was there for you for most of your life, and with a clueless mind, you didn’t know where you would be without him when your father had died. Since Josiah was working for the Royal Family with your occasional help, you had thought the Queen and King were going to kick you out because you had no place or purpose staying in the Royal House. But luckily, Harry quickly proposed the idea of you being his personal bodyguard. Someone who just followed him around while making him seem less lonely because the other men that were his guards before rarely said a word to him when he was out.
The Dutch and Duchess, and especially the Queen, were a bit skeptical, but let him have his way to avoid any sort of resentment in the future. You were ecstatic and thanked him profusely for letting you stay at the Royal House, but he brushed it off, telling you that he would’ve asked a million times more until they said yes.
So, for two years now, you’d been Harry’s personal bodyguard, and you thought it was the easiest job. One, because even if you weren’t his bodyguard, you’d protect him with your life, putting yourself in front of him when chaos would come his way. Two, he made the job seem fun and it didn’t even seem like a job because you two laughed and messed around from time to time, not actually doing work. And three, who doesn’t love working with their partner?
“Is that a promise?” You tested him, seeing if he was willing to promise you that he was going to marry you. It didn’t seem possible if you were honest. Either he would have to run away from home or you two wouldn’t get married at all, and just stay together, which you wouldn’t mind either.
“That’s definitely a promise. You know me—don’t say shit just to say it,” he said, a smug smile on his face.
“Okay, well. Whenever that day comes, I’ll be waiting to become Mrs. Styles.”
“Princess Styles,” he corrected, and you breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head a tad bit as you surrendered your argument on him calling you that.
You snuggled closer to him, enjoying his presence and warmth; and for a moment, you had forgotten yours and Harry’s responsibilities for the day; you just enjoyed this small and quiet moment you two had together that only usually happened in the mornings. But you cherished them nonetheless.
Nearly drifting off to sleep, you jolted to stay awake. You looked at Harry to see him looking at you with a small but fond smile on his face, eyes gleaming ever so brightly as the sun gently cast its light through his window from above his bed.
You gave him a quick kiss to his lips and nose before getting out of his hold, earning a groan from him. You stood beside the bed, smoothing out any wrinkles that creased on your clothing.
“C’mon, we have so much to do today! Plus, we’ve already exceeded morning bedtime hours.” You grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the edge of the bed. He sighed, resisting as he pulled back.
“Don’t wanna do anything today. Just wanna lay in bed all day with my Princess.” His words came out muffled as he spoke into the pillow. Your cheeks heated up as you held his arm; you wished that you’d get the chance to spend the entire day with him, doing nothing instead of keeping a distance from him throughout the day. But alas, being with him for most of the day was still what you considered a wonderful day.
“Let’s go,” you softly insisted. You kneeled down onto the floor beside him, pecking his face all over. The left side of his face was smashed against the mattress, but you could see the smile forming onto his face as you kissed his cheeks. “Get up, dreamy.” You used your nickname on him, and you realized that was a bad idea since you were trying to get him out of bed.
Harry suddenly perked up, smirking before he turned around to lay on his back. He pulled your arm, hauling you to lay on top of him; you giggled once you landed on him, and he connected his lips with yours, kissing you passionately and sensually. Your legs were straddling him, and you unconsciously ground against his sleep pants, feeling his bulge grow harder and bigger. Harry softly moaned into your mouth, slightly bucking his hips upward towards your center.
You pulled away, about to tell him that you couldn’t do this right now, but once you saw his flushed face and swollen pink lips, not to mention his aching hard-on that was rubbing against your thigh, you decided against it.
And Harry knew you all too well to know that you were going to say something but held back. So, instead, he grimaced and wrapped his arms around your waist before trailing them down to your ass, giving it a squeeze over your pants.
“Think we got time for this?” He raised his brows teasingly at you, and you bit your lip.
Grinding your hips against him was your way of giving him your answer, your mouth met his ear as you whispered, “All the time in the world for you to fuck me.” You nibbled on his earlobe before moving your lips down to the spot under his ear, resulting in a moan slipping out of his mouth.
He flipped you two over, now his turn to hover over you. The Prince gave you a certain look that you knew all too well; it was a look of certainty like he had all the time in the world to have his way with you, and he definitely wasn’t going to shy away from it.
“Wanna feel me? Think you could handle me?” He challenged teasingly. His voice was low, raspy, and deep—much deeper now since it was morning and he’d just woken up. But the way he spoke sent a shiver down your neck, making you jerk, causing a mess in your panties.
“Know I could handle you. I’ve been handling you for years now,” you smirked. A flushed tint rose onto Harry’s cheeks; he always seemed to feel himself get giddy over the fact that you two had been together for years, and hearing it come out of your mouth made it much better.
“Let’s see about that.” He began to kiss down your neck and body as you relaxed into the pillow, completely enjoying his lips and body on you.
And just like all the other days, it was going to be a long morning. But the early birds get the worm, right?
Harry headed towards the dining room where his family was eating breakfast. They all looked up at him suspiciously, like they knew about his morning escapade with his Princess, and he was nearly gutted because they had gotten caught, but they simply just looked at him and continued eating.
“Morning everyone,” he relaxed, clearing his throat as he took his seat, unbuttoning his black suit jacket; a light pink button-down shirt clad on his tattooed torso. The servers that had been serving them for decades, Mariah and Deborah, poured him a tall glass of water and set down his mug of coffee. He thanked them, and they gave him a smile, always surprised to receive a ‘thank you’ in the Royal House. But Harry wasn’t snobby or arrogant, he had manners and was polite.
“A bit late to breakfast, Harry, and you didn’t show for morning tea,” the Queen herself had pointed out. Elaine hadn’t even made eye contact with him, she just continued eating as she sat at the head of the table.
Harry froze for a moment to look at his sister to see if she’ll help, but Gemma just raised her brows, not knowing how to back him up.
“Sorry, Nan. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I slept in a little bit,” Harry lied.
“Hmm, and where was that bodyguard of yours to wake you up? Isn’t she supposed to wake you?” She wondered, but by her tone, it was like she knew already; and Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case.
“Uh, yeah. She did, actually, and I told her to give me a moment. Guess that turned into forty-five…” he curled his lips in, containing the smirk that was begging to show through. His cheeks formed a tint, and he quickly grabbed his glass of water to cool down and to cover his flustered face.
The two of you had stayed in bed longer than anticipated, and when it was only supposed to be a quickie, Harry took his time with you the first round but decided to go two more rounds, fucking you hard until your teeth were biting the sheets and screaming into the pillow. You had to cover all of the marks that littered his neck, but the others that only you were able to see were casually resting under his clothes.
Harry shifted in his seat, remembering how your eyes looked up at him as you kissed down his body to wrap your lips around his cock. His mind was spiraling, immediately thinking filthy things your mouth and body could do to him; that was until Gemma had kicked his foot under the table that got him out of his head.
He looked at her, flicked his head at her, a way to ask ‘what was that for?’ She tilted her head towards the Queen as Elaine was still talking to Harry.
“Okay, just wanted to make sure she’s doing something right. If not, you let me know, and we’ll have her removed from the House,” she advised quite sternly.
“There’s no need for that, Nan. There hasn’t been a problem for the last two years she’s been my guard, so there certainly won’t be,” Harry explained quickly. He didn’t know if his eagerness sold his disagreement, or if it helped his case with his secret relationship with you. But he didn’t want you to leave his side, let alone, leave the House. He wanted you here, and if having you in private was the only way, where you two had to sneak around and kiss behind closed doors, then he didn’t mind that.
Elaine nodded, letting go of the subject before talking to the Dutch, Harry’s father, about some of the duties that needed to be completed today. Harry let out a sigh of relief once the Queen’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. He ate his breakfast in silence, thankful that the conversation he had with his grandmother didn’t go any further than a bit of scolding; he would say it was going to be a good day if they went a morning without Harry marching off early from breakfast.
Breakfast went on quickly after that, thankfully. Mariah and Deborah began to clean the table before setting up a few cups of coffee for his mother, father, and the Queen. Harry and Gemma excused themselves, saying they had a few things to do for the day before they quickly walked out of the kitchen.
The siblings rounded the corner and walked until they were far enough before Gemma spoke, not wanting their family to hear their conversation from the echo because of how large their home was.
“You really need to be careful, H—the both of you, I mean it. Staying in with Y/N can’t happen consistently—I feel like she’s starting to get suspicious. ” Gemma started. She had a concerned expression as the part in between her brows creased.
Harry sighed, nodding his head. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We’ll try to be more careful. It’s just hard, y’know.”
“I understand. I get it, I really do,” Gemma sighed before chuckling as if a realization had popped into her head. “Hell, I’m doing the same thing, but I’m just better at hiding it,” she chuckled.” It was true; Gemma was in a relationship with one of the servers—Sebastian.
They’d been together for seven years, ever since she was twenty-three. She kept it a secret for three years until she decided to tell Harry, which of course, Harry was ecstatic to hear the news—only because he had just told his sister about his own relationship, which you two had only been together for a year at that time.
Gemma and Harry were supportive of one another, looking out and covering up for each other because at the end of the day, they were on the same side and in the same situation; neither of them wanted the other to get caught because there would be worse consequences coming from the Queen, and the two tried to avoid those said consequences as much as possible.
Naturally, Gemma loved you. You’d grown closer to her and seen her as a best friend, someone you could always go to and count on. The appreciation you had for her was vast, and you thanked her almost every day for how grateful you were that she was so supportive in your relationship with Harry.
“Thanks for kicking me back there, though. Didn’t need another morning where Nan flames my ass,” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly.
Gemma laughed. “Yeah, don’t know why she’s picking fights with you. She used to love you, wonder what changed,” she wondered, genuinely thinking what the cause may be.
“Don’t know what it is, but if you know, tell me because I can’t always eat my meals stressed because she’s always onto me.” Gemma giggled. “Anyways, gotta go. I’ll be at the charity event until late afternoon, and I gotta find my girl. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you. I’ll wait for you to eat dinner, so you’re not alone. Have a good day, little brother, be safe.” The Styles siblings hugged, a nice and warm embrace that showed much appreciation and respect they had for the other.
“You as well, big sister.”
Harry walked in the opposite direction as Gemma, smiling to himself as his heart felt so full. He was lucky to have a sister that was so encouraging and caring, and he always made sure to give the same love back to her because she needed it. Their parents were always a bit strict on them, but he was sure they had to have gotten that attitude from the Queen—well, at least his father. His mother, Anne, was a sweetheart. For some odd reason, she didn’t show much love to her kids because of Elaine. When they were kids, Nan would always get on Anne’s case about how she shouldn’t show them much affection or treat them like babies because they needed to learn discipline and from their own mistakes.
Walking over to the East Wing and past the kitchen, Harry headed towards the living area, where some of the staff, including you, were hanging out, waiting for the Royal Family to finish their breakfast. One of his father’s guards immediately stood up, making the rest hastily stand up to greet the Prince.
“Your Highness…” The staff greeted in sync; the men bowed as the women curtsied as Harry stood in the doorway of the living room. His eyes found yours, watching you curtsy; and on your way up, your head perked up, shyly smirking at him. Harry’s heart flipped as he puckered his lips to the side, containing his smile; you two would always laugh about these kinds of greetings, and sometimes Harry would greet you the same way because after all, were his Princess. He wasn’t one to be formal with greetings, and if it were up to him, he would tell the entire staff to stop greeting him like that, but he didn’t make the rules around here.
“Goodmorning, everyone,” he greeted back. “Hope everyone has a great day. I should get going, though. Y/N?” He looked at you and slightly raised his brows. You walked across the living room and past him, standing before him before making sure to give him a smile. He bid everyone goodbye before you two walked alongside one another.
The two of you headed towards the large front door in silence. You occasionally glanced up, but quickly averted your eyes towards the path, and Harry was also looking at you through his peripheral vision, smiling to himself as he saw how many times you glanced up at him. The silver Rolls Royce was waiting for the both of you at the end of the steps with the back door open with his driver, Benjamin, holding the door open. Harry gestured for you to get into the car first like the gentleman that he was.
“Hi, Benjamin,” you greeted the middle-aged man with a smile.
“Hello, Y/N,” he responded, tilting his hat down.
“Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry shook his hand appreciatively. Benjamin had been Harry’s driver for the past ten years. He used to be his father’s driver, but when Harry grew older and was able to go to events and out on his own, they assigned Benjamin to be Harry’s driver.
“You’re welcome, Prince Harry,” he slightly bowed before closing the door after Harry slipped into the car.
Benjamin drove to the facility where the charity event was held. The privacy compartment screen between the driver and back seat was up; the fancy car seemed more like a movie theater with so much leg space and a middle console between the seats with a blank privacy screen in front of you. It screamed expensive, and Rolls Royce was the company that helped the Royal Family get from point A to point B as their entire underground garage was filled with these types of vehicles.
You and Harry had about half an hour to chat and touch one another, so you unclicked your seatbelt, quickly moving towards his seat. He smiled, unclicked his seatbelt before letting you half-sit on his lap, your legs rested on his thighs, and he pulled the seatbelt over the both of you and clicked the metal buckle before pulling the seat belt strap behind him so it wouldn’t get in your way.
A sigh came out of both of your mouths, enjoying this moment that felt short, but was cherished. You cuddle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as his arms were tightly wrapped around you. You could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and you enjoyed the sound, knowing it was maintaining a steady heartbeat for you.
Harry kissed your forehead, lips delicately brushing across your skin, making you flustered. You looked up at him as he smiled down at you, the two of you smiling like idiots before he took his lips in with yours.
“What’s it like to grow up always being so beautiful?” He suddenly asked, very charmingly, might you add. He couldn’t get enough of you and how stunning you looked every single day; no matter how much you disagreed with him, he always thought you were the most gorgeous person on this Earth.
You smiled, looking, and studying his face. Some strands of his hair had fallen into place against his forehead; you pushed them back, softly kissing his forehead.
“Could say the same for you. You always have a beautiful heart and a lovely face.” You grazed his jaw with your thumb, his stubble scratching against your finger.
A breathy chuckle fell from his lips. “Love you, my Princess. Dream girl, I swear.”
“And I love you, Your Highness. Love you like crazy,” you softly giggled, kissing his jaw. “How was breakfast, by the way?”
“The usual. Gemma said Nan is starting to get suspicious, so we have to be careful, can’t have too many mornings in,” he explained sadly. You slightly pouted, but quickly covered up your sad expression with a neutral face, not wanting to make him feel bad because he had no control over his grandmother.
“Okay…” you agreed, nodding your head.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “Know this is hard, but we’ll figure it out, alright?” His hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing your soft skin as he looked deeply into your eyes. His green eyes held an immense amount of care and love, just like his heart, and just being in his view of vision was an honor enough.
You nodded, blinking back the tears that had quickly formed. “I know we will. Don’t mind having you to myself, though,” you chuckled. The corners of his lips turned up as his dimple popped out. You took your finger and poked his dimple, something you had been doing ever since you were younger.
“I don’t mind it either, but sometimes the sneaking around sucks, doesn’t it?” His brows slightly furrowed, clear frustration expressed on his face. You took your thumb and smoothed out his stressed and wrinkled forehead, and he immediately relaxed.
“It does, but if that’s what it takes for me to be with you, then that’s how it’s gonna be.”
Harry deeply sighed, resting his head against your neck. You lifted your head up, so he had more room to perfectly fit against you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Butterflies soared in your stomach once you felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your skin. After all these years, his touch still made you giddy while goosebumps rose on your skin. His kisses didn’t lead to anything more as they simply spoke the words of admiration and gratitude.
“Hmm, don’t deserve you,” he mumbled against your skin.
“Yeah, you do. Deserve love and happiness more than anything, and if I’m the one to provide it to you, then that’s all I need in life.” He pulled his head back, coming face-to-face with you now as your words had really meant something. Your hand grazed his cheek, feeling his soft but yet somewhat stubbled skin.
“I love you so much. Genuinely think my heart is going to explode full with my love for you.” He took your hand that was on his face in his, giving the back of your hand a kiss before placing your palm against his heart. You felt his heart beating fast, hard, and it was all for you. “You have my heart in the palm of your hand.” His actions were literal, and you loved how he always had a way with his words. “Full of love for and from you.”
You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him as your hand was still against his chest. For the rest of the car ride, you two relished in one another’s touch; it felt nice to be with one another outside of the Royal House where you didn’t have to hide behind corners or in secret passageways.
When the car came to a smooth stop, you quickly unclicked the seat belt and got off of Harry, giving him a peck to his lips before situating yourself in your own seat. Benjamin opened Harry’s door and you let yourself out on your own side, quickly jogging around the car to stand next to Harry.
A line of Rolls Royces were parked behind the vehicle you were in previously, and five guards, including you, were surrounding Harry as you all walked inside of the banquet room. You were standing in front of Harry, between two guards, while the other two were slightly behind the Prince, making sure he was safely boxed in between you all.
Quite a few gasps were let out once people saw who had just walked in, and the volume in the room had increased. People were starting to walk towards you all, bowing and curtsying to the Prince as he said his hellos to everyone. Straight ahead, you noticed a woman running towards you, and you knew that wasn’t safe at all, considering this was a children’s charity event and you had the Prince right behind you.
“Prince Harry-” her arms reached forward and she gained a little air, jumping a tad bit, but you had immediately stopped her, making sure she did no harm to the royalty.
“Ma’am, please step back,” you stood in front of her like a brick wall, pushing her slightly as she stumbled back a bit. Her face had gone red, stepping aside; Harry softly smiled at her, waving his hand. You turned around briefly to see if Harry was okay, and a small smile appeared on his face, nodding at you to proceed.
The group of guards walked Harry to one of the tables a group of kids were sat at. Harry told the guards that he was okay and that they could stand back until he was ready to leave. The four guards, including you, separated along the wall behind the Prince.
You observed the room, noticing that there were a few photographers, clicking away at the charity event, making sure they get Prince Harry in their shot, along with volunteer workers and some parents at the event with their phones out, snapping pictures of him. You watched Harry interact with the children, helping them build legos with an enthusiastic smile on his face; he would high-five them, telling them that they did an amazing job building the ship before taking his phone out and snapping a picture of the wonderful sets the kids had built.
Your heart warmed at the sight, and you couldn’t help but think about Harry being the father of your children because he would be the best dad; he would treat them so sweetly, spoil them rotten, and support them in letting them be whoever they’d like to be. A sudden warmth hit your face as you curled your lips into your mouth, hiding your smile—you suddenly thought about being pregnant and how Harry would be so gentle with you as he touched and kissed your stomach.
With your leg shaking as you stood, you were getting jitters as you daydreamed. One of the guards noticed that you couldn’t stand still, so he slightly nudged your shoulder with his, bringing you out of your pleasant daydream. You looked up at Earl, raising your brows before he asked if you were okay. You nodded your head, standing straighter and placing your arms behind your back, interlocking your hands as you continued to watch how Harry’s smile brightened up while playing with the children.
Harry absolutely loved charity events, not because they gave him good press but because every time he had gone to one, he would forget that there were cameras around him. Being and spending time with the kids had made him so happy, and the children seemed to enjoy their time with him as well, so that’s all that mattered to him.
The charity event was being hosted by a foundation that helped kids who lacked a certain connection with their youthfulness because their parents didn’t have the money to get their kids toys or bring them to amusement parks. The foundation was a non-profit organization that simply organized donations to be used towards the children. They hosted toy drives every month, picnics every other Saturday, and sometimes Disney trips every six months if they reached their donation goal.
Harry was all for donating to them, and this foundation was one of the five organizations for children that he was a member of and was very active with them throughout. He was very passionate about helping the children out, and he wanted them to have a nice childhood, helping them outweigh the good from the bad. His natural liking towards kids in general very much helped him easily bond with them.
After a few hours, making sure every child got his attention, he was ready to leave. He didn’t leave without saying a small speech because it was expected; thanking everyone for donating and supporting this foundation, and he also thanked the kids for playing with him, which he earned many cheers from the young ones.
Once he got off stage, he made eye contact with you, telling you that he was ready, and you headed towards him, the other guards followed after you. Just like you arrived, the guards boxed Harry in safely as he bid everyone goodbye. Everyone waved as a series of farewells were scattered across the room, sad to see the Prince go. Once you all were outside the venue, Benjamin was waiting by the passenger door. From the three hours Harry had been at the event, news had spread out like wildfire that the Prince was attending the event, so there was a swarm of paparazzi waiting outside the venue.
The box of guards that were surrounding Harry closed in tighter since you had to get through the crowds. Harry, being the polite prince that he was, said hi to everyone as they reached out to hold his hand. But he rarely let anyone touch him because of an incident he had six months ago when he had reached over to shake someone’s hand, but they had taken advantage of the opportunity and harshly yanked him forward, making him stumble. Being frightened by that, he informed his guards to not let anyone touch him after that. He wasn’t being obnoxious or a typical ‘no one can touch me because I’m the Prince’ kind of guy, it was simply for his safety. You absolutely hated that someone was out to hurt him, and it pained you to see how shaken up he was that day. If the Prince had actually gotten hurt that day, there would be massive consequences for that person, but anyone would risk their lives to feel his touch.
Once you were close to Benjamin, Harry let you get into the car first, but Benjamin stopped you. With a confused look on your face, you asked if everything was okay while Harry asked if there was something wrong. Benjamin leaned down to whisper in Harry’s ear, and you furrowed your brows, suddenly becoming suspicious as you watched them. Benjamin pulled back and Harry deeply sighed, shaking his head.
“Y/N is my personal guard, though,” Harry mentioned.
“Yes, but this was a direct message from the Queen herself. I’m only delivering the message, Your Highness. I don’t want to lose my job if I don’t comply,” Benjamin explains sadly. There was clear stress on his face, saddening him that he has to go against the Prince’s orders, but he couldn’t afford to lose his job when he has a family. And besides, it’s the Queen—everyone follows her orders.
“Okay. Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry said, and Benjamin bowed.
Harry turned towards you, leaning down to whisper into your ear just as Benjamin did to him. “Nan said that I have to take one of the other guards to ride back to the House with me. Specifically said, ‘Have the other guard come back with Harry, don’t care who it is.’ She told Benjamin that she wouldn’t be happy if he’d let us ride together. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” Harry pulled back, rolling his eyes. You simply nodded, knowing you couldn’t comfort him in any way since you were still in public, so you moved out of the way and stepped aside.
Harry gave you a quick smile before turning his head to one of the guards, asking if he could join him. They quickly said yes, and safely got into the car. The rest of the guards waited until the car door was closed before walking towards the cars they arrived in. You slipped into the car, the one you didn’t arrive in, as you watched the one with your Prince inside drive away and towards the Royal House.
Sighing, you looked out the window and watched the road and houses pass by. The Queen had never really taken a liking to you—never really made the effort to talk to you. You were the closest person to Harry, physically, since you were his bodyguard, but all she had ever done was question your actions when you’d been doing your job correctly, according to the instructions and demands from Prince Harry.
But the worry and anxieties had increased because Elaine had become more suspicious than she was last year. Had she found out about your relationship with the Prince? You two had been doing well at hiding it besides this morning. And you had been good, denying Harry’s wishes to stay in up until this morning. But every day, it got more difficult hiding your love and affection towards the Prince. The word ‘no’ coming from his beautiful mouth as he would stare at you with those captivating emerald green eyes as he would plead to spend more time with him in his comfortable bed; the word completely vanished from your head.
You wished the situation was different, but for now, you only hoped that things would get better from here.
Once the car was parked in front of the large cemented steps that led up to the front door of the Royal House, Harry sighed, thanking Benjamin for driving him as well as Nico for accompanying him on the ride back. They both bowed, saying ‘you’re welcome’ before Harry let himself out and up those steps. Benjamin quickly reminded him that the Queen would like to see him when he arrived home, making Harry dread the conversation.
He walked slowly towards the front door that was opened by two of the front gate guards. Saying a quick ‘hello’ to them, he walked towards the Queen’s lair, where she always prevailed when she said she needed to have a conversation with someone.
The hallway leading to the double doors always made Harry anxious, ever since he was a little boy. He hated how dimly lit the hallway always was, and he never understood why she never wanted to put lights in this hallway. Probably to match her heart, Harry thought, but immediately took back the thought because he shouldn’t think that way about his grandmother, better yet, the Queen.
Taking a deep breath, his shaky hand knocked on the door, hearing ‘Enter’ from the Queen from inside, and Harry opened the door. His grandmother was sitting at her large desk chair that was lined like a gold antique frame and was drinking tea out of her teacup that was passed down from generations.
“Your Majesty,” Harry bowed, greeting his Nan. She placed her teacup down onto the small plate, placing her hand out to indicate him to sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk. There were no greetings, not a word out of her when he had entered, and now, she was staring at her grandson with snake eyes, ready to attack.
Harry gulped, hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat straight up so she didn’t point out any more of the things he was doing wrong.
“How was the charity event, Harry?” She suddenly asked, breaking her silence.
“Uh, good. Had a lot of fun with the children.”
“Good, good. Anyways, I should get to the point with this, hmm?” She raised her brows as she asked her question as a genuine one. Harry’s face remained neutral, slightly nodding. “I called you in here because I wanted to tell you a bit of news that I found out earlier this week…” she trailed, taking a deep breath before she revealed her news. “I found out that I’m dying. I have a tumor in my brain, and the doctors have found it too late. They gave me the option to have surgery where they would try to take it out, but that would lead to very risky complications that I can’t afford. So, I told them that I would hold out.”
Harry was shocked. His mouth was open, eyes wide, and speechless. Not knowing how to process this new information, he couldn’t believe how casual her tone was when she told him, even her face remained calm like she expected this to happen.
“I, uh…Nan…”
“I’ve been preparing for this—I’m getting older, so this was bound to happen already. I’m making sure the kingdom and our country are safe, and I’m making sure your parents are ready for the job they are about to accept.”
Harry nodded, eyes welling up. “H-How much longer do you have?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Doctors said six months to a year, but that could change anytime. We just don’t know.” Harry exhaled deeply, looking down at his lap. He felt as if his heart was heavy as he listened to her talk about her disease—how okay she was with dying. Sure, now, he and Nan don’t get along very well, but once upon a time, they were closer than ever. The Queen absolutely loved her grandson and was always so sweet and gentle with him, but things quickly changed when he turned twenty-two. The older you get, the more distant they become, he thinks. He sighed, wishing it wasn’t like that.
“I do have a wish from you…before I go.”
“Anything,” he answered immediately, and he had wished he hadn’t answered so soon because the words that came out of her mouth next was his worst nightmare.
“I would like to see you get married while I’m still alive. I’m arranging a gala this weekend and I’d like you to meet some people, you know, you can take your pick or whatnot,” she said with an emotionless face. He always disliked how much she lacked enthusiasm or emotion, and how she talked about things so casually.
Elaine picked up her pen, writing out Thank You cards that she was sending to some people in the village.
“I…what?”
“Might I need to repeat that again?” She raised her brows annoyingly, hating when she needed to repeat herself.
“I can’t do that…”
“And why not?” She asked sternly, her change of voice had surprised Harry as she slapped her pen down onto the wooden desk.
“Because…” This was it; he could easily out his relationship with you, tell her the truth, and it would be over with, but he didn’t because he knew that you weren’t ready for what was to happen after. Besides, you would have to know if he was going to tell her the truth, so Harry couldn’t go behind your back. “I don’t wanna meet someone at the gala just to get married right away. What happened to falling in love?” He questioned.
Elaine scoffed, waving her hand. “Falling in love, that’ll happen when? Never? I’m gonna be gone, Harry. You’d rather fall in love in a year’s time rather than fulfill your grandmother’s wish?” Her voice started to increase, echoing, and bouncing off the walls of her office. Harry started to shake his legs anxiously from the volume of her voice and the idea that she proposed, absolutely hating it.
The Queen had guilt-tripped him into marrying someone; she had used her disease and lifetime time limit so she could get what she wanted. Elaine knew full well he was going to obey her wishes because that’s how Harry was—he didn’t want anyone to feel bad and he certainly didn’t want it to come from him. She would ask Gemma, but she had much thicker skin than her brother, so she would turn the idea down faster than Elaine would be able to get it out. But Harry, on the other hand, was much easier to get to.
“Harry, I’m only asking for one thing. When have I ever asked you for anything major?” She crossed her arms, resting them down on the desk. “This is my dying wish. Wouldn’t you want your wish to be-”
“Okay,” he interrupted. His voice was soft as he didn’t dare to look her in the eye as he spoke.
“Great, it’s settled. Make sure to get your fittings done before the weekend. You have to look your best.” Harry didn’t have to look at her to know that she was absolutely beaming, knowing that she got what she wanted and didn't try hiding her excitement. “Please close the door on your way out.”
Harry stood up slowly as he was in disbelief. Walking out of her office and closing the door, he started to breathe heavily. Tears were in his eyes and his chest felt heavy as his hands started to shake. He picked at his fingers to calm the shakiness down, but it didn’t work. Walking down the hallway, he rushed towards his room, not even checking to see if you had arrived yet, but he couldn’t face you, not yet. He had just agreed to marry someone that wasn’t you, and you were bound to be upset—he would be suspicious if you weren’t. How was he going to break this news to you? Hell, he didn’t even know how to process this himself.
All he knew was that this was not going to end well.
Hours later, you were wandering around the house, wondering where your Prince could be. You hadn’t seen him since you left the banquet hall earlier this afternoon; and Benjamin had told you he was to meet with the Queen once he had gotten home, but as the hours went by, you hadn’t heard or seen him.
Quickly walking over to the West Wing, you headed towards his room because that was the last place you hadn’t checked. You walked by some of the guards and maids, saying a quick ‘hello’ to them as you passed by; it wasn’t odd for any of the staff to see you heading towards the Prince’s room because you had done it many times and Harry had instructed you, in front of the staff, that if you ever needed to see him, you could knock on his door.
So, that’s what you did; you knocked on his door, waiting for a word from the other side, but you heard no movement whatsoever. You had checked the entire Royal House from top to bottom, but he was nowhere to be found, so he had to be in his room. You took a look around if anyone was near and once you saw the second floor was empty, you slowly opened the bedroom door of the Prince’s room. And what you saw was as if a tornado had hit his room; a mess was what described his room perfectly as objects were thrown all across the floor, the bed was unmade, chairs and sofa were flipped upside down, and the mirror was cracked in half, leaving shards of glasses on the dresser.
You slowly walked in, afraid that someone other than Harry might be in his room, and had purposefully trashed it. There was light coming from his bathroom, so you walked towards the light, slowing your steps so your shoes wouldn’t squeak against the polished and shiny tiles.
“Harry?” You softly called out. By now, he would have come out because you were the only one allowed in his room without permission, so you were starting to get worried.
Once you were close to the restroom, you started to hear sobs echoing the bathroom, filling the room with soft and quiet heartbreaking sounds, making your heart drop because you knew those cries and you knew exactly who they came from. When you were inside the bathroom, you saw Harry sitting against the wall, arms leaning on his knees as his face was resting on his arms as Harry cried and sobbed.
Seeing the love of your life in pain and in such anguish, it genuinely felt as if your heart was tearing into pieces or if someone had ripped your heart out and stomped on it. The pain that Harry endured was also felt through your heart as well because he was your soulmate, you both felt everything the other felt.
You kneeled beside him, gently calling out for his name once more so he knew that you were right beside him before you placed your hand on his shoulder. Harry didn’t have to look up to know that it was you—your touch, your voice, and your presence before leaning to the side and into your arms, sobbing into your chest uncontrollably. You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, comforting him in the best way that you knew how, and that was to simply hold him.
He liked being held and it made him feel at ease, made his mind shut out the noise. You would simply hold him for the rest of your life if your life depended on it, and if that meant keeping him calm and at peace, then you didn’t mind.
You ran your hand through the locks of his hair, scratching his scalp and pushing his hair out of his face. You kissed his forehead, giving him many pecks in a way to comfort him. Harry roughly coughed and sniffled; you could feel his heart beating radically, so you smoothed your hand down his back, somewhat rocking him in your arms. You knew he wasn’t a baby, you knew that, but if it worked with crying babies, then it must work with adults too. And besides, who didn’t like to be held while crying?
To your credit, it had worked; Harry was calming down and his heartbeat wasn’t out of control. He looked up at you through his glassy eyes, sniffling; he looked defeated, and you hated that you weren’t there when he was breaking down because it must have gone on for hours. There were visible tears that stopped against the crevice of his nose, so you took your hand and wiped his tears away before kissing his nose.
Harry sat up, sitting against the wall as he was before you came in. Propping his knees up, you moved to sit in front of him, in between his legs, so he could know that you were there for him and that he had your full attention. He grabbed your hands, sadly kissing them but in a way, saying ‘thank you’ for comforting him and making him feel better just by your hold. You rubbed his hands with your thumb, gently caressing his skin as you patiently waited for him to talk to you.
He took a very deep breath as if it physically pained him to breathe before he spoke, wishing the words that came out of his mouth were a sick joke, but it wasn’t—nothing that came out of the Queen’s mouth was a joke.
“I spoke with my grandmother earlier…” he began to tell you that she had brain cancer and that she wasn’t going to do anything about it, just live the rest of her life until she couldn’t anymore. Your face saddened as Harry explained, simply just listening to him as he spoke. You placed one of your hands around his neck, playing with the curls that sat on the back of his neck.
“Bub, I’m so sorry to hear that.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek before giving you a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, taking in your scent and comfort; he felt better for the time being—before he had to tell you the other part. A new set of tears streamed down his face, unable to hide his emotion now.
Once you pulled away, you softly wiped his face with your hand before he spoke again. “Sadly, that’s not the news that I’m crying over.”
Raising your brows, you looked at Harry with a surprised expression, wondering what got him so sad to trash his room and breakdown in the corner of the bathroom.
“Oh…W-What is it?” You hesitated.
You listened, watching his mouth as he spoke. Every ounce of hope had disappeared from your body as Harry explained the situation that he was in, that you were in. He cried, unable to be coherent as possible as his sobs won over his ability to speak a full and proper sentence. It genuinely felt like you were asleep like this was a dream, more of a nightmare. As if all of the plans and dreams you had patiently waited for was thrown out the window in a world record time of a minute, maybe less. The color from your face had completely drained, leaving you shocked, appalled, and hurt. Every word was just another twist of the knife that went straight to your heart as you wished his words would get better to relieve the strong and harsh ache in your chest, but they didn’t.
Wake up, please, wake up, you told yourself, but this was reality. It was real.
Silence had washed over you two after Harry was done explaining the horrible news. The silence was louder than glass shattering, loud and pitchy. Contrasting to the silence outside of your head that laid between you and Harry, the inside of your mind, your world, was similar to the glass, breaking and crumbling into pieces with one hard hit of the enemy.
“I-I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve said something, anything. But instead, I said yes,” Harry bawled through his words.
“Are we…over?” You asked nervously. The lack of eye contact you were giving him only pained him, but he knew how difficult it was to say that. He took your face into his hands, tenderly cradling your sad but beautiful face.
“No,” he immediately disagreed. “I mean, not if you don’t want it to be. I understand why you would, though—didn’t even fight for you. Please, let me fix this. I’ll talk to her, tell her everything. She can’t make me do this, I have a right to my own words and decisions, right?” You stayed silent. Harry understood why you were quiet as you were still taking in this information and how to process that your boyfriend was to be married in the next few months, but he really needed to hear your voice. He needed the reassurance from you because you always seemed to know the right words, but he knew you needed him more. “Princess, please look at me.” His voice was shaky, and you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? Not gonna let her walk all over me again. I love you, and it’s time for her to know that.”
You nodded briefly, not able to get the right words out. Harry didn’t mind; he took you into his arms, wrapping his strong and tattooed arms around your shaking and frightful body.
He held you tight as you both sat on the floor of his bathroom, pretending that everything was going to be okay. But in reality, neither of you knew if it really would be.
The weekend had come by too quickly for Harry’s liking. He didn’t get the chance to have a moment with the Queen because she was busy with handling errands for the gala; from talking to event coordinators, caterers, and floral arrangements, so she hadn’t gotten a moment to sit down unless it was nighttime. Harry practically felt her negligence towards him, always telling him she’d talk to him later, which left Harry feeling defeated because the more she ignored him, the quicker the days had gone by—closer to the gala.
And to his dislike, it was the morning of the gala, something he had been dreading ever since Elaine had told him she was hosting one. It felt like his world was crumbling; he noticed your demeanor change—how could it not. Things weren’t the same, and they weren’t going to be the same again until he got himself out of the unwanted arranged marriage that the Queen was putting him upon.
You didn’t mean to act differently around Harry, your boyfriend, or whatever this meant for your relationship, but it was difficult to act like your normal self. You sought comfort from Maria as she told you that this wouldn’t be the last of you two; she had a gut feeling it wouldn’t be.
You had always imagined getting married to him as you two would excitedly talk about marriage and how life would be when you were husband and wife. But Harry was soon to be meeting his wife, and you had to be in the same room as him, possibly feet away from him when he did so. Your heart ached, dropping to your stomach as you felt sick to your gut every time you thought about it.
You were wearing your usual attire but you added a black corset over your white shirt and a black blazer since the gala was a more formal event. Standing in front of the large bedroom doors, you closed your eyes for a mere second, taking a deep breath before knocking, entering right after.
Upon your eyes was Harry standing on the block square step in front of the mirror that was placed in the corner of his bedroom. His seamstress sewing the crystals that were loose on his embellished jacket that he paired with white trousers. The gold buttons on the front of his jacket were engraved with his initials, adding a touch of personalization to his attire; along with his white lace gloves, white pearl necklace, and cross pendant.
He looked absolutely marvelous, rightfully so, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him no matter how heartbroken you were.
His eyes caught yours in the mirror, widening before turning around to face the seamstress. “Jaylin, I think we’re good, yeah?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t find any more flaws in his suit.
“Yes, we are. Have a great time at the gala, Your Highness,” she curtsied, grabbing her supplies before heading out the door. You greeted her on her way out, and you earned a smile from her.
The click of the door was heard, indicating that it was just the two of you in his room. Usually, you would take advantage of being alone with him, but again, things were different this time around.
Harry stepped off the step, slowly walking towards you. His eyes never left yours, piercing through you like fire, and you were going to melt.
“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted softly, looking you up and down. You slightly grinned, looking down at your feet.
“Hi, Your Highness.”
He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head up. You looked at him with doe eyes, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with you even more with just your stare.
“You look gorgeous,” he complimented. Leaning forward, he was about to place a kiss on your lips, but you felt his hesitancy as he pulled away. He hadn’t felt your touch, your lips in what seemed like years; completely deprived of your touch, but it’d only been a few days.
“Thank you. You look wonderful as always.” You grabbed the edge of his jacket, tugging on it to straighten out the material before smoothing your hand over his shoulder and down his arms. Harry sucked in a breath; that was the most you’d ever touched him in days, and he was cherishing every second of it because reality had hit him, and this could possibly be the last time you were ever going to touch him.
You sighed, pulling back as you crossed your arms behind you. Harry could tell that you had a million thoughts racing in your head and you were wary of saying them, but nothing you could say would scare him; he was already faced with his biggest nightmare.
He walked towards you, taking your hands in his. The softness of your hands juxtaposed to the slight roughness of his that carried multiple heavy rings on his slender fingers.
“Hey, I’m gonna fix this, alright? I’m telling her tonight, and I promise that I’m gonna be yours forever, no matter what happens,” he reassured, looking ever so deeply into your eyes so you would get the message. His eyes had captured yours, putting you under his spell, so you nodded and believed him. Harry sighed in relief, thankful that you trusted him. “I actually got you something.” He let go of your hands, walking over to his dresser before pulling out a square box from the drawers.
Harry was always one to give, always the giver and he loved giving without expecting anything in return. Throughout your relationship, he would always buy you random but sentimental things that he saw at the shop simply because it reminded them of you. The thought was incredibly sweet and you loved the fact that even when you weren’t around him, he was still thinking of you.
He opened the box, revealing a pearl necklace that had a gold anchor in the middle. It was a necklace that you had thought of getting to match the tattoo that was inked next to your right breast. You and Harry had gotten complimentary tattoos the second year of your relationship, and he proudly got a ship tattoo on his left arm as well as an anchor on his wrist to match with you. Harry was your anchor; he kept you upright. He was the backbone of your ship, helping you slow down whenever you needed a break.
“You were secretly eyeing this when we visited that farmer’s market a few months ago. And since I couldn’t go and get this by myself since you’re always with me, I asked Gemma if she could get it for me. Hope this was the one you were talking about,” he explained shyly as he held the box open for you.
You were speechless as your heart fluttered. “Harry…” Your fingers delicately grazed the necklace, studying and feeling his gold chain; it was the exact same one you saw at the market.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes, I do—I love it.” You softly smiled up at him. “D-Do you mind putting it on me?” He immediately nodded, taking the necklace out of his case, and you turned around, slowly pulling your hair to the side.
Harry unclasped the necklace; the small skin on the back of your neck was exposed to him, so he leaned down, placing a small kiss on your skin. The action sent shivers down your spine, but you took the touch that you’d been starved of. He put the necklace on as it sat perfectly against your collarbone; and Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, taking in your delicious scent. You felt extremely warm as if you were standing in the courtyard and the sun was casting its light right down your spine, providing you warmth. You placed your arms on top of his, hugging him to yourself as he rested his face against the crook of your neck, tenderly kissing your skin.
A deep sigh of relief was released from your lips as you let loose in his hold. His arms were a place you wanted to be in forever; it was a place where you found security and comfort, and the thought of leaving, a chance to never be in his arms, had never once crossed your mind.
You turned around in his arms, facing him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, mindlessly playing with the small curls that sat so effortlessly on his neck.
“Thank you for the necklace, I truly love it,” you sincerely said, reaching up to place a small chaste kiss on his lips. Your lips against his had made Harry’s stomach flip, and he couldn’t bear to hide the smile that made you fall so hard for him.
“You’re welcome, my love.”
“Do you mind…fixing my corset? It’s a bit loose.” You offered him a smile, and he nodded. You took off your blazer before he reached behind you to untie the knot that you had tried to make look decent.
“I love you, you know that, right?” You suddenly asked as Harry pulled the strings tighter, making you take a big breath in before he started to tie them smoothly without the need to look if he’s doing it correctly; he’s tied your corset for you so many times already that it was all muscle memory.
“Yeah, I do know that,” he nodded, looking deeply into your eyes. You had practically felt Harry’s doubts and insecurities of your love deep through because of the news that he broke to you the other day. And you figured you weren’t being a good enough girlfriend to him and failing to remind him that you loved him and it wasn’t his fault for everything that’s happening. “You know I love you as well, yes?”
You raised your brows at him, nodding. “Mhm. Just wanted to see if you knew.”
He chuckled, finishing up the knot. “Yeah, I know.”
He placed his hands on your hips, and you leaned to give him a kiss to thank him as well as just to kiss him lovingly, something you two hadn’t done in days. Giving you a smile, he was going to go in for another one, but a knock was heard on the door, making you two pull away quickly.
That knock on the door only meant that the car was ready and that Harry should be heading to the gala now. That knock only meant that it was time to face his future—the future that was going to fight for, the one that he wanted and not the Queen.
That knock only indicated that it would be determined if he was to live with or without you, and there’s no way in hell he was living without you.
Elaine had definitely gone all out with this gala, Harry thought. It was held in a museum that was closed due to the Queen’s personal favors and demands.
When a guest entered the gala, they were immediately caught with the gold antique lining on every end of the wall; the high crystal chandeliers reflected off the gold and illuminated the room even further, bouncing off the shiny and polished floors. Long champagne color curtains were draped in front of each window with a historical gold statue pushed up against the window. The dome-shaped ceiling was high, painted to tell the story of the Renaissance. When a guest entered the gala, they were welcomed with elegance, grace, and exquisiteness, prepared to have a gold evening that would only end in secret affairs and tragic events.
You led Harry through the room, many guests greeting him with such poise as they tried to get his very best impression. With suits looking sharp and dresses were extra flowy, they bowed and curtsied as Harry politely said his greetings to them.
Many of the guests had been mentally and physically prepared to have a proper conversation with Prince Harry, and hopefully get a chance with him on the dance floor, if he allowed it. Everybody wondered what it would be like to walk into the building with Prince Harry on their arm, how they would flaunt and brag about how they arrived with him.
During galas and balls like these, the guards were instructed to be present, to be aware, so they didn’t need to always be close to the Royal Family. Once you got an approving nod and smile from Harry, you left him be; guests surrounded him, the men were shaking his hand as the women gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was completely soaked up in the attention, everyone praising him for the recent work that he’s done for different foundations and events that he attended recently. He’d been offered too many invites to grab a drink, or to the dance floor later in the evening, or even to their bedroom when everyone was asleep.
Politely and respectfully, he told all of them that he’d see where the night would take him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to reject them fully because the only one he wanted to have a drink with was you. The only one he wanted to invite and take on the dance floor, dancing and spinning the night away to classical and soft music was you. The only one he wanted to go to bed with, to make love under the sheets, and wake up in the early hours of the morning to admire how you slept was you.
The Queen was sitting on her throne, crown sitting perfectly on her head as she watched Harry for over an hour, interacting with her guests. She could practically hear the conversations that the many women whispered to in his ear, inviting him for a night in their presence, but she noticed how uninterested Harry was—the look on his face said it all and how he would politely brush off their question without giving them an answer. She observed how he, quite often, looked over at you, standing against the wall, watching him as well.
You were nervously watching him, observing the way he acted around the guests, seeing if his demeanor would suddenly change since you weren’t right by his side anymore. It wasn’t as if you were jealous—you were never one to be jealous; it was your own insecurities that made you constantly worry about how Harry could just pack up and find someone else that was much better for him. Everyone always wondered what it would be like to love Prince Harry, and you were the lucky one to know what his love felt like, and you would hold onto that love for as long as you possibly could.
Elaine had made her rounds and chatted with several people who were eager to talk to her, and they were lucky enough to get a chuckle out of her. It was difficult impressing the Queen, her own family even struggled to get her approval, so it was a rare sight to see Elaine walk up to someone and initiate a conversation.
But that person wasn’t just ‘anyone,’ they were that person the Queen had specifically picked out to wed her grandson, someone who was worthy of hers and the Prince’s time. Elaine had asked the woman to follow her, which she immediately complied as Elaine walked through the room, nodding her head at everyone who greeted her, for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Harry was in conversation with one of the Dukes when his grandmother had walked up to him, the first time tonight, with someone, who he had never met before, trailing behind her.
“Harry,” The Queen made herself known.
“Your Majesty.” Harry bowed.
“I would like you to meet Venus. She’s the daughter of one of the board members for the Water and Power Organization,” Elaine introduced the dark-haired girl.
Venus curtsied. “Your Highness.” She smiled, flashing him her gorgeous smile. Venus was pretty, anyone knew that from just a glance. She wore a champagne silk dress that had crystals embedded on her waist, cinching her figure. She added white silk gloves and diamond earrings to top off the look.
“Pleasure,” Harry simply said behind a smile, masking his anxious and nervous attitude. He knew this was the moment where the Queen would tell him who Venus was and what he was to do while you were standing in the back watching the entire interaction, holding in your tears as your heart broke a little more.
“My dear, Harry,” Elaine started. Harry looked at his grandmother weirdly; she hadn’t called him that since he was younger. “Shall you accompany her to the dance floor? Get to know each other, hmm?” She suggested, brows raised.
Harry was all too polite to reject the poor girl as Venus looked at him with hopeful eyes. He simply cleared his throat and nodded, hesitantly offering her hand to the dance floor. Venus gladly took his hand, and Harry led them under the high crystal chandelier before she put her hand on his shoulder while the other still held his hand. Harry respectfully placed his hand on the small of her back--his actions unsure. Sure, he had danced with many people throughout the years, even while being with you, but this was completely different; this was the woman who he was to be wedded to, and he was sure Venus knew that as well.
“The Queen is very kind. I thought she disliked a lot of people, so I was shocked when she started up a conversation with me.” Venus made conversation to fill the void of silence between her and the Prince as they swayed to the classical music.
Harry lightly scoffed to himself. “She’s the Queen, could do anything she wants.”
“She told me the plan, and I will happily be your wife, Your Highness, an honor really.” Her voice was light and hopeful. Harry knew that she was a kind woman and anyone would jump at the chance to marry into royalty, but he couldn’t deal with this, not right now. Not when you’re standing feet away, containing your pain. Harry pulled away swiftly from Venus’ hold, leaving her confused. “Your Highness?”
“I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this,” he told her before walking away and leaving her on the dance floor.
The Queen had watched the entire interaction, anger, and disappointment present on her face as she watched Harry walk away and out of the main ballroom. You were about to follow him out once you saw him frantically walk out, but you noticed the Queen quickly trailing behind him. Holding tightly onto your thumbs to contain the shakiness, you stayed put as your mind had begun to wonder if your boyfriend was okay or not.
You understood why he seemed upset and stormed off; dancing with someone who wasn’t your partner hurt just the same as watching it right in front of you. All you wanted to do was hide away with him, in each other’s arms forever, but that wasn’t reality.
Harry’s footsteps clicked against the tiled floor, walking in pure frustration as he tugged on his hair. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, a groan slipped from his mouth. He heard footsteps following behind him, and he already knew who those particular steps belonged to. Turning around to face what seemed like the devil itself, he inhaled deeply, holding his breath.
“What in God’s name are you doing? You left the poor girl hanging!” Elaine scolded, eyes piercing through him.
“Nan, I can’t do this. You can’t make me do this.” His eyes and voice pleaded, begged for mercy as he was asking for a favor as her grandson, not the Prince.
“And why may that be?” She tested. Harry’s mouth opened but quickly closed, refraining himself to say anything. The words were right at the tip of his tongue and he had told you that he would tell her everything, but when it came to the moment, anxiety and nerves got in the way. But it seemed like the Queen knew exactly what he was going to say because she spoke for him, saying, “Is it because of that girl out there who happens to be your personal guard? Y/N, is it?” Her voice had a hint of sarcasm, and that’s when Harry knew.
She knows, she knows everything.
“H-How did-”
“Oh, for god sake, Harry. Do you think I’m naive? Oblivious? It’s painfully obvious--the way you two look at each other, how you walk so closely next to each other, not to mention, the mornings in. You can’t tell me that every time you sleep in, she’s nowhere to be found too? Hmm?” Crossing her arms, she knew she defeated Harry. There was no way around it and no room for lying because she knew everything.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I thought it was a one time thing, the first time I noticed it--that it wouldn’t last long. But I’ve watched it happen for five years, and now that I’ve had limited time on this Earth, I didn’t want to see it anymore.” She shook her head in disappointment. “So, you will marry Venus,” she instructed sternly.
“I will not,” Harry bit back, holding his ground.
“You will do as I say-”
“Your Majesty!” Harry interrupted, his lip wobbling involuntarily. For a moment, Elaine had seen the seven-year-old Prince as he gave her big puppy eyes, pushing his bottom lip out as he begged. For a moment, she was about to give in to his wishes, disagreeing to be wedded to a woman he had never met before tonight. If it were twenty years ago, she would have, but twenty-seven-year-old Harry didn’t have the same effect on her as he did two decades ago.
She loved her grandson, she did. As cruel and heartless as it was, her love for him had begun to slowly dissipate ever since he started dating you, making her a bit more harsh with him as it was a complete switch up from how she acted around him when he was younger.
“You are to be married to Venus next Saturday, and that is final,” she said in an unrelenting tone before she walked away, heading back into the main room without another look back at her heartbroken grandson.
Harry was left in the empty hallway on the verge of a full breakdown. His knees felt weak, about to give out from holding him up. Luckily, you entered the hallway, quickly walking towards Harry who looked completely stunned. The bottom of your shoes clicked loudly against the quiet hallway.
You placed your hands on the side of his face, frantically worrying. “Harry, baby? What’s wrong? What happened?”
He finally exhaled the deep and big breath that he had been holding in since his conversation with the Queen. The absence of your presence had made his breath shudder as he quite frankly couldn’t breathe properly when you weren’t around.
His legs gave out as he couldn’t properly stand, and without warning, he collapsed, but you had caught him as you quickly placed your arms under his underarms, trying your best to pull him up. But his deadweight had won, bringing you both to the floor. You caught his fall, somehow maneuvering yourself to be placed behind him, so he wouldn’t completely fall on his back. Sitting in between your legs, he turned himself in your hold, burying his head in your neck as he began to sob. Tears soaked your skin as they slid smoothly down to your shirt, dampening the piece of clothing. His hot breath hit your skin as he bawled his eyes out, holding your top tightly between his fist, wrinkling your perfectly ironed white shirt.
His wails broke your heart, and you had no clue as to what happened prior to getting this reaction out of him, but it must have been something horrible; something the Queen had said to him as you saw her walk into the ballroom just before you walked out. You only assumed it had something to do with the arranged marriage that she mentioned earlier this week.
“Baby…please, you’re scaring me,” your voice was shaky, anxious as to what the reasoning for his breakdown was. Your fingers threaded through his chestnut curls, comforting him in a way you only knew how to do.
Harry’s breath stuttered as he sniffled, catching his breath as he calmed down a bit before he spoke. “S-She knows.” Your breath had hitched in your throat, heart dropping to your stomach. The Queen knows everything, constantly replayed over in your mind like a broken record. “She knew from the very start of o-our relationship that’s why she started to become so harsh and short with me.” Your heart broke for Harry as he spoke about his grandmother, and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one that caused the Queen’s unpleasant tone with the Prince. “But I am to still be married to the woman in the ballroom. She scheduled it for next Saturday,” he added as his voice cracked towards the end.
His words were echoing in your head, and it only added fuel to your terrible nightmare. You thought you had time, time to convince Elaine that your relationship with Harry was serious and that you loved him. But you’re starting to think that Elaine didn’t care if he was happy or in love, that she was doing this completely out of spite.
“W-What are we gonna do, Y/N?” Harry needed your words—he needed your console, your reassurance that everything was going to be alright.
But this time, you didn’t have an answer.
Your footsteps were the only thing that were heard as you walked through the dark and quiet hallway, leading up to the Queen’s office. She had asked one of her guards to tell you that she requested to see you after breakfast, and your thoughts had been running ever since. This had been the first time the Queen would speak a word to you; the other times had been full of her ignoring your greetings as you curtsied politely.
You asked Harry if she knew if he knew what she was going to say to him, but he just shook his head no. Rightfully so, he’s been in quite a gloomy mood, but he’d been more clingy than ever since this was most likely your last week together. You tried not to think about how Harry was to be married to another woman at the end of the week, and that only led to crying into your pillow until the early hours of the morning; Harry’s been the same, maybe even worse.
With a shaky hand, you knocked on the door; not too hard but not too soft either. You gulped as you heard Elaine say ‘Enter’ from the other side of the door. Nervously opening the door, you were faced with the Queen sitting in her chair with her hands linked together as she rested them against her desk.
“Your Majesty.” You curtsied, anxiously looking at her for some sort of approval, but all she did was gesture for you to sit down.
Once you were sitting rather uncomfortably on the edge of the seat, she stared at you for a moment, looking at you up and down as her glare was rather deadly. You tried not to fidget or anxiously bounce your leg, but her eyes were probing into your soul, and you were afraid of how she may react if you disconnected your eyes from her.
“I assume you know why you’re here?” She started. You nodded lightly, not saying a word. “I don’t appreciate you and my grandson going behind my back to have this…affair of yours, especially for years. First, did you think nobody would find out? You’re in the Royal House, everyone reports things back to me when they see something suspicious, so don’t think you were all that sneaky. Second, Harry’s a Prince, you’re a…guard.” She said with much emphasis on your title. “Did you think it was going to work out? I mean, he’s a Prince.” She added a bit of a scoff at the end, but her tone was stern.
“My apologies for going behind your back, Your Majesty.” You hadn’t a clue on what to say to her other than to apologize because there was no reason for lying only to make the situation worse.
“Hmm. You see, Prince Harry is to be married in four days. That means you are no longer in relations with him, and since you’ve disrespected me and my family, you are no longer needed in the Royal House. You are to be packed by Saturday, and you’ll never go close to my family ever again—more importantly, the Prince. Understood?” She instructed unsympathetically.
Your breath was stuck in your throat, your stomach in knots, and your heart didn’t feel like it was beating anymore. You were absolutely crushed. The thought of not seeing Harry anymore frightened you; you didn’t want to do life without him. You needed him, and unknowing to the Queen, he needed you too.
“I asked if you understood,” she said, wanting a vocal answer to seal the deal.
Slowly, you nodded your head. “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty.”
Elaine leaned back in her chair. “Very well. You may leave now.”
You got up, making your way out of her office, closing the heavy door before you let out a wracking sob, chest heaving up and down. You quickly made your way to your room, covering your mouth to contain the volume of your cries. The fee staff that you passed by had called out for you, asking what was wrong, but you ignored their calls, heading straight to your room where you locked the door and cried into your pillow, just as you had for the past few days. Your heart broke into a million pieces for yourself and for Harry, and you didn’t know how you would ever recover.
As you were talking with the Queen. The Duchess had found Harry lingering around Elaine’s office, pacing back and forth as well as pressing his ear up against the door.
“Harry? What are you doing?” Anne asked worriedly.
“Mum, please. I need you.” Tears streamed down his face, and Anne’s heart broke as she saw her son so heartbroken. All of the rules Elaine had instructed Anne to do on how to raise her children, like completely stop showing her kids affection, had completely torn in half. And just like that, her child needed her.
Anne quickly took Harry into her arms, and Harry sobbed into her shoulder, hugging her tightly. “There, there, my darling. You’re alright.” She rubbed his back soothingly. “What’s wrong?”
Harry pulled back. “Uh, Y/N—she's in there with Nan. Mum, she knows everything.” Anne’s eyes widened. “We’ve kept it in for so long, why now?” Harry choked in between his words as his cries had heightened.
Anne looked at Harry with a defeated face. She’s always known about his relationship with you ever since the beginning. A quite fresh six months into the relationship, Anne had caught you two running around in the courtyard under the moonlight, past curfew hours. Harry suggested sneaking out because that was the only time you two had alone, so you hesitantly said yes without thinking about getting caught. Sure enough, you two did get caught by the Duchess. You relentlessly apologized to his mum, saying you won’t pass curfew hours anymore, but Anne simply just smiled, telling you two to be more careful next time because it could’ve been the Queen who had caught you.
As Harry’s mother, she understood the importance of wanting him to live his life the way he wanted to. She always encouraged that he could be whoever he wanted to be, and she would always be there to support it. She didn’t want to tell him who to love or who to marry because that decision should be completely up to him. And throughout the years, she’d seen how much love he has for you while that same love was also being reciprocated. That’s all she wanted for him—someone who would love and cherish him.
“I don’t know what to say, darling. Maybe you could talk to her?” Anne suggested, caressing Harry’s arms.
“I-I tried before, but she just brushed past me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Frustration was clearly going through Harry’s body as he pulled on his hair, something he does when he’s anxious and frustrated because he was somewhat in control over it.
“C’mon, let’s go into the living room.” She grabbed his arm, leading him out of the hallway, but he pulled back.
“But…”
“She’ll go to you when she needs to. The last thing you need is getting caught lingering around when I’m sure the Queen doesn’t want you two being around one another.”
Anne was right; a mother does know best. Following her wishes, he nodded, trailing behind his mother and out of the hallway, away from his poor girl who was being confronted by the Queen.
It was Friday night, and you had just zipped up the last of your luggage. Your room was empty, and it pained your heart that it was your last night at the Royal House, the last time you would ever see Harry.
You were due to be out of the Royal House by seven a.m and off Royal grounds at nine in the morning; there was a boat scheduled for everyone visiting the grounds to departure at nine, and you would be on your way to God knows where, but far away from the one person who had your heart.
Harry’s wedding was to be scheduled quite early in the morning, around eight-thirty, or so you’d heard from the staff. The entire staff had no clue of your leave, except a few of the guards that were going to escort you out of the Royal House and to the docks. The Queen had bumped into you in the hallways and specifically instructed you to not tell anyone that you were leaving because she was going to tell them that you resigned if they asked. You simply had no energy to argue, to disagree with her choice, so you nodded, not saying a word.
You sat on the edge of your bed, completely drained physically and emotionally, and the one thing on your mind was to go to sleep—sleep and Harry, your dearest Harry who you hoped was okay. You got ready for bed mindlessly as a numbness fell throughout your body. You couldn’t feel anything but pain, and the suffering you’d endured for the past week had overwhelmed your mind and body, leaving you dazed.
Your heart pounded through your ears with every movement as it started to make you feel dizzy, so you laid down on your side, facing the wall while you hugged your pillow tightly while your hand was wrapped around your gold necklace Harry had gifted you. Shutting your eyes, you forced your mind to go to sleep.
A few moments passed by, and due to your ears ringing, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open and close. But you did feel the edge of your twin bed dip down, making you open your eyes in startelement as the figure behind you engulfed you into their arms, and you immediately relaxed.
Sighing deeply, a few tears shed from your eyes, feeling relief from the pair of arms around you; you hadn’t felt his arms around you since Tuesday, the day you talked to the Queen. You also hadn’t seen him since Tuesday because after your meeting with Elaine, she had found Harry, telling him to stay away from you. Many arguments had come out of his mouth, but Elaine immediately shut him down after that, sternly telling him that he was to never speak to her that way again. Knowing that Harry would break the rule of not seeing you, Elaine ordered for you to not cross the boundary of the West and East Wing as she knew you wouldn’t break her rules.
The feeling of being this close to one another after three days was such a relief, and it almost felt wrong because of the Queen’s wishes, but you simply couldn’t care less because you were in the arms of the person you adored.
Turning around to face him, you were immediately greeted with a loving ‘I missed you so damn much’ kiss. His lips glided over yours smoothly, but rushed, desperate to feel your touch as his arms never loosened around your frame, needing your body close.
“Hi, Princess,” he said breathlessly once he pulled away.
You kissed the tip of his nose, making him blush. “Your Highness, how are you?” You asked concerningly.
“Was doing horrible without you, but right now, I’m just happy to see you, happy to be in your bed.” You softly smiled, pecking his lips.
You were also happy to have him in your bed. He’d only snuck out of his room to sleep in your bed a handful of times, but he could easily say that it’s the best bed he’s ever slept on because your scent was all over the sheets as well as your body being pressed up against his due to the lack of space you two had. You’d tease him, saying that you were baffled he would rather leave his king-size bed for your small one, but he would charm your pants off and come back with how he liked your small bed better because that meant you would be closer to him the entire night. A charmer, he is.
A silence fell over you both, simply just looking and taking one another’s presence in. You had both memorized every inch of each other’s face throughout the entirety of your friendship and relationship—every mark, mole, crease, and wrinkle was ingrained into your mind as it was your fear that you would forget how your handsome Prince looked like—but this time, it was different. You two were looking at one another, so neither of you would actually forget what the other looked liked because you wouldn’t be able to see him again.
You lowered your eyes to your neck, stopping yourself from crying, but it seemed like your tears and emotion for the best of you. A small sniffle came out of you and Harry pouted, bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly.
“I’m gonna miss you,” you said against his skin.
“C’mon…” Harry said with slight annoyance, lightly scoffing as he was in disbelief of what you were saying.
“I mean it, I’m really gonna miss you.” You pulled your head out of his chest, looking up at him.
He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. His heart was breaking more than it already had, and it upset him how much you were letting all of this happen—accepting it, more like.
“Don’t do this.” He looked deeply into your eyes, brows furrowed; you could tell that he looked frustrated and offended, but you didn’t know what you could do to make your situation better, so you shrugged your shoulders in defeat.
“There’s nothing else for me to do, Harry. I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t want you to resent me for not being close to your grandmother when she’s practically on her deathbed.” He pulled away from you, laying on his back as he looked up at the ceiling fan, hoping if he looked long enough, he would be hypnotized into another life—a life where it involved just the two of you. But he was still in your room and his realities were still coming true. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” you added.
“Don’t accept the fact that we’re not gonna see each other again!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down, still not making eye contact with you. How could he ever resent you? For most of his life, you’d made him the happiest—ever since you two were kids, you would always find a reason to put a smile on his face and get out of bed in the morning.
You sighed deeply, closing your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted your last night to go, and you could understand why he was frustrated, but you really didn’t know what he wanted you to do because there wasn’t anything you could do.
He turned his head towards you, seeing that you were closing your eyes, exhaling through your nose deeply. He turned his whole body to lay on his side, facing you before bringing his hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. You opened your eyes once you felt his cold touch, chills rose onto your skin as you looked at him through your glassy and sad eyes; a look that broke his heart.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice, my Princess. I’m just…angry and sad.” He lowered his eyes, feeling subdued.
“It’s okay, I understand. I just don’t know what to do to make this situation any better, but we have to accept that this is our ending. And it may not be ‘happily ever after’ for the two of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you.” He nodded as he took in your words.
“Just…hold me, yeah? Until you have to l-leave.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it rather difficult to accept the fact that you won’t be on the same grounds as him anymore.
You nodded, closing the inch of space, and wrapping your arms around him. As your face was pressed against his chest, Harry’s chin rested on the top of your head as you two held one another. It was a surreal but heartbreaking moment, but the two of you cherished the last several hours you had with one another.
You lifted your head up, only to be met with his chin, and you pressed a kiss along with the sharpness of his stubble jaw; Harry sighed in relief. You hooked your leg around his waist, pulling him closer than he already was, and trailed your lips to his neck, sucking and licking his soft skin. Harry groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips into yours as the feel of your lips had that much of an effect on him.
Shifting upwards so you were face-to-face, you looked in his eyes momentarily, taken back by his beauty. He was so immensely beautiful that he quite literally took your breath away. He almost didn’t seem real, so tangible, but he was definitely a sight. You’ve had a crush on him for more than a decade, and not once had it minimized into something frivolous or vanished; you hadn’t doubted your love for him and you never would. You were always going to have a crush on the Prince until the day you took your last breath when you would think about giving him one last kiss goodbye.
Connecting your lips together, you felt like you were home. The peace his lips provided made you melt with every kiss, every single time his tongue glided over yours, or when he bit your bottom lip and pulled back a bit—just being connected to Harry physically and emotionally made you feel secure, and you couldn’t ask for anything more in life because you would be too greedy.
In the midst of moving your lips in sync with his, he traced his tongue against your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, a moan leaving your lips. His tongue met yours, swirling and tasting one another as the grip you had on one another had stiffened, pulling each other closer. With your hips slightly grinding against his, the breathy moans that left his mouth, and Harry’s lips perfectly and gracefully kissing yours, the electrifying feeling was more powerful than ever. The spark ran down your back, making you want more as chills ran down the course of your body. You would always want more when it came to Harry; he had that appeal where he would leave everyone wanting for more, but luckily, you were the only one he would be giving it to.
You pulled away, completely breathless by his soft and pink lips before you whispered, “Want you, please.” Your eyes were pleading with him to do anything to your body as you just wanted to feel his touch, his body against yours.
“Sure?” He asked as he always did before you two ever had sex, and you appreciated the thought because it really showed how true of a gentleman that he was before he fucked you relentlessly into the mattress.
“Mhm. Give it to me…one last time,” you sighed, curling your lips into your mouth as your fingers pushed away the curl that fell onto his forehead.
He shook his head softly, disapproving of your choice of words. “Okay,” he responded, brushing off your statement as he gave you another kiss, unable to get enough of your sweet, cherry-flavored lips.
Soft kisses were pressed against your cheek, trailing down your neck as he gave you a love bite; you threw your head back into the pillow, allowing him more access to your neck. His hands found the hem of your baby pink silk nightgown, bunching the soft fabric up to your waist as he held your thigh up to his waist, softly grinding his pelvis into yours.
You sat up and raised your arms straight up before Harry took the chance to peel your nightgown off of your body and on the floor. You laid back down, completely naked, besides the necklace that rested perfectly on your skin, as his eyes bored into you, admiring your figure and being quite mesmerized by you as he always was. Your room was dark besides the soft glow of the moonlight that peeked through the window and casted down at your body, giving Harry a clear and beautiful vision of you.
“So beautiful, my love. Take my breath away every single time I look at you,” he said softly. You shyly smiled under his state, finding it quite intimidating for a moment.
Harry raised his arms and reached behind his head to take off his shirt, showcasing his tattoos that you’ve traced, counted, and kissed plenty of times throughout the years. His inked skin was something you loved most about him because despite being Royal blood, he still wanted to be himself—not someone people assumed he was as if they’d figured out his entire life and personality. Just Harry.
He was outright the most stunning man you’d ever laid your eyes on. You were sure there would be no one like him because there was only one Harry that you loved, only one person that you loved.
You reached your hands out for him, and Harry slowly placed his weight on you. His lips sucked and licked the swell of your breasts and nipples, giving each the same amount of attention. You grabbed his face, bringing it up to your lips as you missed them.
He molded his lips with yours for a few moments, enjoying your touch before you briskly flipped the two of you over so you were on top now.
Harry smirked, hands immediately finding their way to your waist. “My girl wants to be on top, hmm?” You nodded as you began to take his striped pajama pants off; his cock was hard, sitting against his lower abdomen. You leaned down, licking one long stripe from the base to the tip, earning a raspy moan from your Prince before kissing up his body, making sure to leave a few love bites so he had something to remember you by in the morning on his wedding day. Call it petty if his new wife would see them tomorrow on their night as newlyweds, but rightfully so, he was yours and you had his heart first.
You reached his neck, littering his skin as you sucked and licked. “Wanna feel you deep. Can you sit up, please?”
“Always so polite. Of course, I can.” He sat up against the headboard, and you pressed your body against his as his cock laid perfectly between your folds. You could practically feel your arousal dripping onto his hard-on, so you slowly started to grind against his hard length as you feverishly kissed him.
A throaty moan came out of both of you as your hands desperately held onto one another, grabbing whatever you both can to really feel each other.
“Please,” he whimpered. “Need to feel you.”
“Look who’s being so polite now, huh,” you teased, and Harry giggled. He loved being able to giggle and tease one another during the intimate times you two had together; it made things fun and less serious as you two were able to be yourselves around each other.
You sat on your knees to raise your hips before you licked your hand and grabbed a hold of his cock, giving him a few pumps before you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, your walls hugged him tightly as he graciously filled you up. After five years, he still filled your walls and stretched you out as his thick and long size was something you still had to adjust to. A soft moan left both of your lips once you were fully on him, keeping yourself there for a moment.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Could stay like this for as long as possible,” he breathed out.
You softly smiled. “Give me a moment. Always gonna need to adjust to you, just so big.” You praised him for endeavors, knowing he liked being praised; and he smirked.
“All for you,” he breathed out, making you smile.
After a minute or two, you started to move up and down on him, raising your hips until only his tip was inside of you before sinking back down, taking him in fully. He always hit that special spot in this position; with just one thrust, it had you moaning his name out like there was no tomorrow.
You squeezed around him, making him throw his head back onto the headboard as he started to guide your hips that were working on grinding and bouncing onto him. Your movements began to pick up, finding a rhythm as you swiveled and grinded on his cock, feeling on edge already.
His mouth attacked your tits as his hands squeezed and slapped your ass, leaving a red mark onto your skin, but you loved it, you always did. You wrapped your arms around your neck, hugging his face to your chest as he hugged your waist, keeping you close while kissing the valley of your breasts.
His hands gripped your hips, pushing you down so you would stop your movements. You looked down in confusion as big doe eyes looked up at you. Pushing his hair back and scratching his scalp, you gave him a small smile, kissing his lips fully.
“W-What’s wrong?” You asked once you pulled back from his lips, your voice soft and tender.
“Just…wanna make this last longer.”
You nodded, agreeing. “Okay.” You didn’t continue your movements after that, just simply staying seated on him, keeping him warm as he was tucked in away with your softness and warmth of your velvety walls.
“I’ll love you forever, y’know that, right? Not gonna love another soul again,” he confessed sadly.
“I know that, and I love you more than life itself. But baby, you’re getting married—spending the rest of your life with someone. You’ve ought to love her someday.” As hard as it was for you to tell him that he could love someone else, you knew that it was inevitable for him to catch feelings, especially for his new wife.
He shook his head in disagreement. “No, no. I can’t do that, even if you’re telling me to love someone else, I physically and emotionally cannot open up my heart to someone who isn’t you.” His eyes were glassy; the moonlight still made his gorgeous green eyes sparkle.
“I know, I know.” You lovingly placed a kiss onto his forehead, lingering your lips onto his skin for a moment as his fingers trailed down your spine. “Just know that I’m gonna love you forever, too.”
“Yeah?” He asked, smiling slightly; you nodded. “Please do. Need your love,” he sniffled, a tear slowly streaming down the side of his face.
You wiped it away, leaning down to kiss his nose and lips. “Need your love too. Can you feel mine? Can you feel my love?” You asked as you began to start moving your hips.
A throaty moan left Harry’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, I can feel it all over. Feel it everywhere—never want to not feel it.” He gripped your hips hard, squeezing the flesh as you whimpered.
Slowly bouncing on him, you started to revive your orgasm as you started to whine and mewl, desperate to get there. Your thighs were shaking and burning from being on top and grinding on him for so long, and Harry started to see that as your movements slowed down and you had to take a few breaks.
“Tired?”
“Mhm.”
“Okay, I got you, baby. Let me love you.” He shifted down so he was on his back and your body was pressed up against his. “Let me take care of you.” You nodded softly, burying your face into his neck, hiding away from him as you whispered from the movement.
Harry planted his feet on the bed, bucking his hips and fucking up into you; it wasn’t fast, no, it was slow but his thrusts were hard. He was so deep that you felt the electrifying shock run down to your toes, making you curl them in. Hot breath hit his skin as you moaned out his name before he felt your lips continuously kissing, sucking, and licking his neck.
“My Princess. My dream girl. Gonna love you forever. Gonna miss you, gonna miss this.” His voice cracked, hugging you tightly to his chest as he continued to thrust up into you. “Please, let me feel you,” he pleaded for your release.
His cock was hitting your special spot as you were very close. After a few more thrusts, a few more moans, and a few more words that effortlessly slipped out of Harry’s mouth as he encouraged you to find your pleasure, you let go. Your beautiful sounds were muffled from the pillow and the way you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were quite overwhelmed as you began to sob, a quarter of your distress was because of how powerful your orgasm was, but most of it was because of how empty you would feel when you had left the Royal Grounds tomorrow morning, and how you wouldn’t see Harry anymore.
Harry continued to fuck you, riding your high out before he spilled into you, loud and raspy moans slipped filled your ear as he moaned your name and how much he loved you.
Once he calmed down, the room was in absolute silence beside the sounds of the gut-wrenching sobs that came from you. You were incredibly sensitive and emotional as you held onto him tight, Harry still inside of you. His heart was breaking as he started to quietly cry with you, which caught your attention, so you lifted your head up to face him. Witnessing Harry crying wasn’t your favorite sight to see; it pained you to see him so upset, and you wanted to take his pain away and keep it to yourself so he would be happy.
“No matter what…” you started, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I’m gonna love you. And even though I’m not going to be physically next to you, you’re still gonna have my heart and you’ll feel how much I love you. Just…remember that, please?”
Harry nodded. “And you’ll have my heart,” he reciprocated.
“Mhm, and I’ll guard your heart for the rest of my life.”
He pecked your lips sweetly. “I know you know this, but you’re my ship. You’re the thing that brings me home safely and securely while I lay out in the sun for hours and be completely content and happy with life. And no matter what storm you, or we, encounter, you’re always able to guide us to a brighter part of the Earth. And for that, I will love you forever. Got you inked on my skin permanently and I will cherish the memories and the love you have given me for the past twenty years.”
His proclamations had you in tears, sniffling throughout his words. You knew how difficult it was for him to say those words because it meant that he was accepting his reality.
You captured his lips in with yours, sobbing and shaking against them as you cried, holding onto one another for dear life as you two only existed in each other’s arms—forgetting about the outside world. Your heart had sunk so far into your stomach, making your insides feel like they were in knots. Harry had been your safety net for so long, your source of happiness and love. But now, he was going to be added to the list of people that you had lost; the first two being your parents.
The three most important people in your life had sailed a ship far away from you and you weren’t able to see them anymore. Maybe in another lifetime, but right now, you needed them.
It was quite ironic how Harry thought you were his ship, something that kept him afloat and content when all you felt was the numbness, the pain, and the sinking of your heart, making the depth of the ocean feel so inviting.
A shake on his shoulder had woken an exhausted Harry up. Inhaling deeply before letting out a groan, he opened his eyes to be met with the day ahead of him. If it were any other day, he would be met with his love, looking at him so lovingly and sweetly as you would beg him to get out of bed, but he would pull you to get in the covers with him before spending half an hour of making giggly and sweet love in the morning.
But today wasn’t any other ordinary day…it was his wedding day, and the person waking him was Anne, sadly smiling down at him as she wore a rather beautiful lilac gown. He looked at her confusingly before taking a look around the room; he was in your room and that’s when he recalled the night prior. You two fell asleep holding onto one another, whispering lovely words into one each other’s ear, pretending that the next wasn’t happening so you two could be Y/N and Harry.
“Morning, darling. I see you’ve made your way in here last night.”
Harry sat up, looking down at his body; he was fully clothed, and he smiled to himself at how thoughtful you were to put his clothes back on. But his smile quickly disappeared when he took a clear look around the room. Your belongings were gone and the luggage that was packed wasn’t there anymore. A piece of him felt like it was ripped out of his chest, leaving him to suffer and sleep through the nightmare.
He sighed deeply, chin meeting his chest. “She’s really gone, Mum.”
Anne didn’t say anything but nod. She rubbed Harry back comfortingly as she kissed his forehead. She’s never seen her son so heartbroken before; sure, she’s had to distance herself from him, but she was always observant of Harry. She noticed that whenever he walked into every room, he had a smile on his face and that was because he was laughing at something you had said or blew him a kiss that made him flustered. So, Harry being so sad and heartbroken was a new kind of Harry that she will have to encounter because for most of his life, he was always happy, never had a complaint in his life, and that was because he had you.
“She left you this.” Anne presented a white envelope, which made his eyes widen, but he immediately took it from her hands. The front of the envelope wrote Your Highness with a heart at the end, making his heart flutter. He looked up at his mother and she smiled at him, caressing his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Be quick to read that. The Queen is still expecting you to be married today,” she sighed. “You have to be ready soon—the ceremony starts in an hour. Be out of this room before anyone else catches you.” Anne walked towards the door, and before she walked out, she called out for him, making Harry lift his head up. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
With that being said, she left your empty room, leaving him with the letter in his hands and your scent that swirled around the room, making him miss your presence even more.
His hands shook as he carefully opened the envelope—you even spritzed some of your perfume that he loves so much as he brought the paper to his nose. Unfolding it, the letter was quite long—the entire page—and Harry could feel himself already getting emotional over it, but he read it anyway.
My sweetest Harry,
I am writing this in the early hours of the morning as you’re sleeping peacefully in my bed, hugging my pillow. You look so peaceful when you sleep, did you know that? Besides the occasional snoring, which I don’t mind because you know that I’m a snorer myself, you have this sense of calmness to you when you sleep. It makes me not want to wake you up in the mornings sometimes because you look like you’re at complete peace. But then I miss you too much and want your kisses so eventually, I do wake you up.
I’m going to miss that, waking you up, and having a morning to ourselves where we get to be us. But I’m also going to miss all the other times we get to spend together. In the car on our way to events, in the courtyard running around like we’re kids, midnight strolls under the moonlight, and sneaky makeout sessions when you would pull me into a random room in the Royal House.
I’m going to miss every single moment.
It pains me that I am no longer by your side and we had to part this way. I’ve never felt so heartbroken in my life before, and I thought I wouldn’t ever get to feel this type of agony because I was with you. And we promised to not hurt each other, no matter what. But I’m proud of us because we kept our promise until the very end. We never hurt each other—we always talked it out and never left one another to fight one’s own battles. We were such a great team. The best team.
You’re everything to me, Harry. My whole entire heart belongs to you, and it will always be yours as long as you hold onto it and keep it safe. Thank you for protecting my heart since we were kids. Thank you for always being there for me in a blink of an eye. You’ve truly helped me get me back on my feet when my father passed, and for that, I don’t know how to thank you enough. I felt like I'd lost the fight when he passed and I didn’t know what I was going to do, but then you reminded me that you were by my side, and for that, we won.
It has truly been an honor to know you. To be in your presence. But to be in your heart is the greatest gift that I’ve ever received because you love like no other. There will be no other that’ll compete against you. It will always be you.
My lips will remember the way you love, the way you taste. Your lips are my favorite, and I smile every single time I feel your touch because it’s quite unforgettable.
You are my heart, my sun, my lover, my best friend, my dream boy, and my forever Prince that I will love for the rest of eternity.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me into your heart, Your Highness.
Yours forever,
Y/N.
With his face slightly damped from the tears that streamed down his cheeks while his eyes were swollen and red, he cried into his hands once he finished reading your letter a third time in a row. The feeling in his chest felt like it was physically tearing him apart as it was difficult to catch his breath, gasping for air through his sobs.
All he wanted to do was to hug you, hold onto you for the rest of his life, and he would be completely satisfied with everything. But you were soon to be on a boat, sailing away from Royal Grounds, further away from him.
He looked down at the piece of paper, making sure to not wrinkle the last physical piece he had of you. You signed your name off with a heart at the end, admiring your handwriting that he never failed to compliment every time you would handwrite him a note. Bringing the paper to his lips, he kissed your name briefly, exhaling heavy breaths through his nose before pulling away and safely putting it back into the envelope.
His heart grieved for you two because neither of you deserved this consequential punishment that broke you two apart.
Standing at the altar in front of hundreds of people wasn’t something Harry imagined his wedding to be like. He pictured his guest list to be quite small, only the people he truly loved and appreciated. It definitely wouldn’t have been in a large venue that held six figures worth of art. And it wouldn’t have been Venus walking down the aisle, meeting him in a white long gown with a veil covering her face.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he felt slightly guilty. Harry knew it wasn’t his fault as to why he’s standing here, but he would have never thought he would ever be standing at the altar without you walking towards him. You two had talked about getting married and the wedding itself so many times that, naturally, it was the norm. Neither of you were scared of getting married to one another, so there was no need to worry about the other running away from the idea or the relationship.
You always talked about wanting to get married in a garden where there would be bushes of flowers surrounding the area, giving the scene a pop of color. You two agreed on only wanting about fifteen to twenty people, most of the guests would come from Harry’s family and friends, and you would invite some of the staff that you had gotten quite close to throughout your life of living in the Royal House. You would ask Maria to walk you down the aisle as you wore a light champagne dress with hints of gold embedded into the dress; you always told Harry you didn’t want to wear a traditional white wedding dress because you would be too afraid to stain it, especially if you were going to walk on the grass. Harry didn’t mind one bit as long as you were the one walking down the aisle towards him; he would be the happiest man on Earth.
But now as he watched Venus make her way towards him, this wasn’t the magical night he dreamed of ever since you two got together, and he wished this was a dream so you could wake him up as soon as possible. But you didn’t because it wasn’t a dream, and he realized that when he shook Venus’ father’s hand, giving her daughter away to marry the Prince as she was soon to become a Princess.
Harry and Venus stood in front of each other as she held his hands tightly, feeling that she needed to hold up his hands because he wasn’t holding onto her at all. Venus nervously gulped as she looked at the Prince; he wasn’t making eye contact with her nor the Priest. He was looking down at his shoes and the doors that she had entered as if he was impatiently waiting for someone to burst through those doors as he didn’t listen to a word of what the Priest had said.
“Harry, do you take thee, Venus, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?”
The moment was finally here as Harry blinked his tears away, knowing two words were going to change his whole entire life.
Your heart was beating fast as you struggled to hold onto your belongings with your two arms. You rolled two suitcases that sunk their wheels through every crack of the wooden and old dock as you walked; your duffel bags took every other bump, struggling to remain on your luggage, making you stop once again to place it back in its rightful spot. Towards the side of the dock was a schedule on what time the faerie was arriving for departure, and you had about twenty minutes to spare if there were no delays.
It was a quite gloomy day—unfortunate that Harry had to have this kind of weather on his wedding day, but maybe that was Mother Nature’s way of expressing her sadness with you.
You looked at your small gold watch on your left wrist—an accessory your father had given you when you turned eighteen as he told you it was your mother’s and that she used to wear it all the time. The small watch made her feel powerful, independent, and a grown woman who had grown up from the beaded bracelets she used to make when she was younger. It was a piece of your mother that you got to keep with you wherever you went, so you cherished it with your whole heart.
When it was nearing T-minus 5 minutes, you gathered your bags and headed towards the boat where every passenger crowded around. There were quite a few people and you hoped that the boat ride off the Royal Grounds was a quiet and smooth sailing ride because with the headache you’re enduring from crying and your heartbreak, you needed silence.
One of the members of the faerie stood on the edge of the boat with a megaphone raised to his lips. “Attention! People who are boarding for the nine o’clock departure heading West of the Royal Grounds. We seem to have noticed a last-minute complication with the engine, which will delay us for about another thirty minutes. We will update you all if we need to switch boats, but for now, hang tight and hang around. Visit the Royal gift shop and get yourself a crown!” He finished his announcement as everyone groaned as you chuckled at everyone’s reaction. You didn’t mind the delay because it meant that you got to stay on the same ground as Harry for a bit longer, even though you weren’t able to see him.
You headed towards a bench that overlooked the ocean and set your bags close by you as you grabbed an apple from your tote that you snatched from the kitchen on your way out of the Royal House. There were little kids running around with balloons in their hands while their parents tried to chase them, telling them to be careful or they’ll fall off the dock.
Suddenly, a little boy jogged towards you, nearly startling you. “Hello, are you Y/N?”
You raised your brows, leaning your arms on your thighs as you wondered how he knew your name. “Why, yes, I am. And who might you be?” You asked in a friendly tone.
“I’m Russell. This is for you.” He handed you a bouquet of a gorgeous arrangement of daisies.
“These are lovely, thank you! Did you pick these out yourself?”
“No, I didn’t. I was told to give them to you. Your husband wanted me to give it to you!” He exclaimed excitedly.
“Really? And who might my husband be?” You amused him, not thinking seriously about his statement. But he suddenly pointed behind you, making you turn around in suspense.
There he was, your Prince, smiling down at you as you looked up at him in pure disbelief. He looked dashingly handsome in a silk hot pink blouse and a floral embroidered black suit that suited him very well. You took a moment to observe him, trailing your eyes down to his hands, only to find his left ring finger bare. His face looked too happy to be married to someone who wasn’t you, but his smile looked as if it was relieved as if his worst nightmare had come to an end. He was relaxed, the complete opposite of the trepidation that he held for weeks.
Your observation was coming to a conclusion, and once you realized what was happening, you matched his smile as you stood up.
“Your Highness,” you curtsied, making him giggle.
Before he could explain to you why he was standing in front of you with no security, he turned to the little boy who had helped him. “Russell, thank you for delivering the flowers to my wife.”
“Your welcome, Prince Harry!” The little boy bowed excitedly before running off to his mother who was waiting and watching on the sidelines.
Once Russell was safe with his mother, you turned back towards Harry. “Your wife, huh?” You raised your brows, teasing him as you masked your giddiness. You intertwined your hands behind yourself, containing yourself from reaching out and grabbing him.
“Yeah, my actual wife—someday—not the one that was walking towards me earlier.”
You smiled softly, still lost on why he’s in front of you. “What are you doing here?”
“I left. I ran away from the altar. I couldn’t do it, Princess. No matter how mad the Queen would be, I couldn’t marry that woman,” he explained. You exhaled in relief, tears pricking your eyes. “I felt guilty, y’know? Never have I imagined standing at the altar without you. It was…weird and I didn’t like it.”
“How did you even manage to do that? To run away?”
Harry slightly chuckled. “Mum helped me.”
“Really?” Your eyes widened as you were in shock.
“Yeah,” he answered, explaining to you what happened thirty minutes prior to him racing to the dock to find you.
When the Priest was reciting the vows, he waited on Harry’s promise to marry Venus. But Harry had turned his head to look at his mum before earning a nod of approval. He turned his head back to Venus, and she had some sort of look of understanding like she knew Harry clearly hadn’t signed up for this wedding—to marry her. Harry gave Venus a small smile that apologized for what he was about to do before turning to the Priest and telling him that he couldn’t do any of what he had said. The guests’ chatter had increased, some softly gasping as they wondered why the Prince wasn’t complying with the marriage.
He let go of Venus’ hands, heading towards Anne to give her a kiss on the cheek. Anne had sneakily handed him a pair of keys to one of the Rolls Royce cars, and he smiled in appreciation. He glanced at Elaine, not even bothering to say goodbye to his Nan, but Elaine had a few words herself, so she grabbed Harry’s wrists before he walked down the aisle.
“Walk out those doors, and you wouldn’t even be considered a Prince anymore, you are not allowed back on Royal Grounds if you walk out, and you are no longer going to be part of this family,” she warned, eyes piercing with such disappointment.
He gave Elaine one last look before yanking his arm out of her hold, which earned a loud gasp from the guests. Elaine looked around at the people who had watched the two, and she felt embarrassment heat up in her cheeks.
Once Harry walked out the doors, he jogged to the front of the Royal House where Gemma had closed the trunk. He took his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly and gratefully.
“Thank you, Gemma. For everything,” he said, giving her an extra squeeze. She patted his back before pulling away, giving him a smile.
“I’m proud of you, H. Now, go and get her. I’ve already flagged down the captain and told him to delay the boat for thirty minutes, so you should hurry before the other passengers start to fret. And the boat you two are going on should be ready by the time you’re there.”
He smiled. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you soon? I’ll call you from wherever I am.” She nodded, telling him to reach out soon. “You take care of yourself, alright? Don’t take shit from her. You and Sebastian deserve to be with each other.”
“I will. I won’t. And yes, we do,” she answered in the order Harry said, making him chuckle. “Now, go. You’re making her wait.” She patted his back once more before he got into the car.
With one last wave, he was off to the docks where the love of his life was waiting for him.
“So, here I am,” Harry said with a smile, arms opening as he presented himself. You smiled widely, giggling. You were still in shock how he simply gave up his family and his position to once rule the country for you. You knew he would do anything for you, but this was more than anything—this was leaving his family for good, walking away from being connected to royalty. And he left it all behind. For you.
“Here you are,” you breathed out a chuckle. “I can't believe you’re here. That you didn’t marry that woman.”
“You know I couldn’t do that. You’re the only one I want to marry, the only one I wanna see walk down the aisle, wearing a beautiful champagne gown.” You were slightly taken back, tears glazing your eyes; he remembered the small detail you had told him about not wanting to wear a traditional white dress to your wedding. “So, you’re not the Prince anymore, hmm?”
Harry shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna leave me to find another Prince, are you?” He joked, raising his brows. You playfully slapped his chest, but he caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.
“Course not. I’ve had a Prince of my own for the past five years.” You unconsciously reached towards him to straighten his jacket. He pulled you forward by the hand that he was already holding, and your chest was pressed together against his with your faces inches away from one another as you looked up at him.
“Our six-year anniversary is coming up soon. How should we celebrate?”
“Hmm, now that we have all the time in the world, wanna go on vacation? I’ve been dying to go to Italy,” you suggested, and Harry’s eyes lightened up as if you had suggested the greatest idea ever.
“I would love that. Where in Italy are you thinking about? Because I’ve been thinking of the Amalfi Coast. Think about it…driving along the coast, cliff diving, swimming in the ocean. Sounds nice, huh?” You nodded your head at his plans.
“Sounds amazing. Maybe we could…get married there?” You suggested another plan hesitantly, testing the waters to see how he felt about it.
“You wanna get married? Next month?” You nodded your head. “Are you proposing?”
“Only if you say yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his chin.
“You know I will.” A tint of pink hit his cheeks as he smiled down at you.
He leaned down to place a tender kiss on the tip of your nose, and when he pulled back, your eyes sparkled with such love and happiness—a gleam that he’s missed seeing in your eyes, and a gleam he would make sure was always there as long as you two were together.
“Well, in that case…Your Highness, my love, will you do the honor of becoming my husband in one month?” You asked with a hopeful and playful tone as you couldn’t contain your smile.
“Of course, my Princess. Wouldn't wanna be by anyone else,” he answered as you softly squealed.
Harry placed his hands on your jaw, gently bringing your face to his. His forehead rested against you as the tip of your noses touched, giving one another an Eskimo kiss. Your lips merely brushed together so delicately as you smiled once you felt his touch. With one last small touch, Harry kissed you with such passion and devotion as you two moved your lips in sync. The kiss spoke every beautiful and exquisite word in the dictionary that it wouldn’t be enough to describe how tenderly and passionate he kissed you, and how much love your heart held for him.
Neither of you cared if there were bystanders, wondering why the Prince was kissing someone in the middle of the Royal Grounds, in public. But there was not one hint of care because you two were together, and this kiss indicated what’s to come for the rest of your lifetime.
He pulled away, and you were so caught up in the sensation and the feeling that you didn’t realize that he had stopped kissing you. When you opened your eyes, you were met by your favorite green eyes that stared at you with a big smile on his face, dimple indenting his face.
“I love you so much, Princess, you have no idea.” His words were slow, hoping to engrave them into your mind so you wouldn’t forget it.
“And I love you, too, Your Highness.” He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, too quick for your liking.
“Now, c’mon, we have a ship to catch.” Harry grabbed one of your bags as he held one of the duffle bags on his shoulder. He informed you that you two were going to take the family ship and that his belongings were already loaded on the ship.
You nodded, grabbing the other luggage and duffle bag. You turned around, taking a look back at the Royal House that peeked behind many buildings and trees. This was the end of the story, and it was time to start a new one. You were able to close the book and set it down while you reflect on the memories you had made in one house with the one person who had your heart.
Sure, you don’t know where you and Harry would be settling down; maybe you two would constantly move around and travel the world since neither of you got the chance to do so, but whatever the universe had in store for you both, you were glad to do it with Harry by your side.
“Hey, are you coming with or what?” Harry called out, making you turn around. A smile that was brighter than the sun was plastered on his face as his arm reached out in front of him, palm facing up, telling you that it was time to leave. That it was time to start a new life together.
You smiled, walking towards him as your eyes were glossy. Taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, he held your hand tight as you two crossed the ramp that was securely resting on the edge of the dock and the edge of the boat.
You leaned against the railing of the boat, looking out at the deep ocean that you once felt like you were drowning in. But once Harry’s arms wrapped around your waist, chest pressed up against your back while his lips attached to the skin behind your ear, you no longer felt like your ship was sinking. It was smooth sailing and immensely happy.
please come into my inbox and tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3
#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#prince!harry#harry styles ff#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#royal au#harry styles prince#boyfriend!harry#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles x y/n#harry#harry styles#solo harry
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Laws of Candle Care
Candles, while popular in religion and magik, are rarely properly cared for. Many who use them don't even know how to take care of them. And when you don't take care of your candles, especially candles used for divination, you use them up much quicker and get a lot of false responses.
This guide is important for anyone who burns or wants to burn candles, regardless of how much you think you know.
Vocabulary
There are many, many types of candles. This isn't anywhere near all, but the four kinds you should be aware of:
Tealights: (small, round candles, usually about an inch in diameter)
Pillars: (freestanding cylindrical candles of varying sizes)
Container candles: (candles poured directly in a container--includes prayer candles, which are tall glass pillars)
Tapers: (Tall, thin candles that stand in holders--includes chimes, which are miniature tapers)
Wick: The string, wood, etc. in the center of a candle that you light. Usually a cotton string coated with wax.
Hugging the edges: The process where the outer edges of a partly melted candles are pushed in to extend burn time.
Burn time: The amount of time it takes a candle to burn out when properly maintained and/or the amount of time a candle is being burned
Double boiler method: Heating wax in a pot inside another pot of water. This prevents it from catching fire or burning.
General
Location: Burn candles at least 1 foot from other flammable materials. Never burn a candle directly under anything--candles need at least a meter/yard of space above them to burn safely. Be careful when burning candles on a desk or near other candles. If burning a non-container candle, make sure it's on a heatproof surface like a plate to catch wax.
Wicks: Always trim your wick to 1/4 inch before burning, no exceptions. Wick trimmings should be removed from the candle, not left to accumulate in the pool.
Holders: Use a properly sized holder. This is a holder that the candle can sit in the bottom of, but will not shake or fall if lifted.
Burning: Not all candles can burn unattended. In fact, very few can. Always assume that you can't let a burning candle out of your sight. The main exceptions to this are container candles, but even so, not all container candles can burn alone. Prayer candles are designed to burn continuously, but still require clear, safe space, and should be checked on.
Melting: The first time you burn any candle, you must allow the wax to melt up to the edge of the candle before extinguishing it. Ideally, you'd allow this pool to reach the edge every single time. If you don't, the candle will tunnel, shortening its lifespan.
Extinguishing: Blow, pinch, or snuff a candle. Never use water to extinguish a candle--this makes it more likely to explode in future.
Troubleshooting
Candle wont light: Check if the wick is too short. If it is, hold a flame near the wick and pour out wax in increments until it can light.
Candle is tunneling: Burn it all the way out to the edge. You may need to manually melt the edges with a separate flame. You might also have forgotten to hug the edges.
Flame is smoking: There's a few possible reasons;
Wick is too tall: This one's easy, simply trim it.
Too long burn time: If a candle burns too long (usually 3+ hours at a time), the wick may curl or "mushroom." Extinguish and trim.
Insufficient air: Most smoking comes from a flame not having enough oxygen (which the above two can cause). This can also come if your space isn't well ventilated, or if there's wind, breezes, or other moving air.
Only one side is melting: The candle's wick is likely poorly centered, or you're burning it with one side in a hotter/colder place. You may be able to move it the wick to the middle when melted, or move the candle. Otherwise, it's usually fine to ignore on its own.
"Oh no, what do I do if my candle..."
Spills: Surround the pool with paper towels. Wait for it to cool, then pry off wax with a knife. Beeswax peels easiest. If there's still wax and it's on fabric, put paper to blot on both sides, and iron. Wash as normal.
Explodes/Cracks: If it didn't put itself out, extinguish it immediately. Clean spilled wax and, if present, glass. Do not try to re light the candle, even if the candle is still usable.
Has a curling wick: Extinguish, trim, and wait to fully solidify before burning again.
Catches something on fire: Immediately extinguish both. It's best to own and use a fire extinguisher for this, as water doesn't always work or cool it down well. Avoid blowing if at all possible, as this can feed the flame. Do not reuse the candle afterwards.
Candle FAQ
Q: How are candles made?
A: It varies based on the candle! The most common method is by melting down wax in a double boiler and pouring it into a mold, or dipping string repeatedly in a vat of wax.
Q: How do you scent a candle?
A: Typically, you would mix in fragrance or essential oils when the wax is melted before pouring it into a bowl.
Q: Can you put herbs in candles?
A: Certainly! But please don't do this if you aren't experienced in candle care, it can be dangerous when they catch fire if you don't know what you're doing.
Q: How do you color a candle?
A: You use specific wax coloring! It's very important to use colors designed for wax, because those are designed to burn safely. Things like food coloring can and will explode or ruin your candle.
Q: What kinds of candle wax are there?
A: There's a few, but the three you're most likely to find are paraffin, soy, and beeswax. Paraffin is essentially plastic, making it the least ecofriendly option, but it's cheapest. Soy wax is from the soy plant, and generally fairly cheap. Beeswax burns the cleanest and longest, and is the best for the environment, but it's the most expensive. They can generally be told apart by texture if there's no label; paraffin is usually hard, flat, and bumpy, soy can be flaky and greasy, and beeswax is smooth and sometimes slightly rippled.
Candles in Magik & Divination
Chances are, if you're here, this is what you use candles for. While it's exciting to see candles doing weird things, remember you should always check for mundane reasons. Fire isn't a toy, and an oddly behaving candle can be a hazard, not just symbolic.
When doing a spell with candles, make sure anything on or around the candle(s) is safe to burn. For example, ensuring you used cotton thread or yarn to tie the candle, not adding dangerous herbs to inhale, and keeping an eye on the type of paper you're burning indoors. (Rolling paper is ideal for burning sigils.)
It's a bit disappointing to learn a "sign" was only a poorly cared for candle, but it's far worse to burn your house down over a false sign from an unsafe candle. So take care of them.
More questions? Send in a DM or ask! Feel free to add on in RBs or notes.
#candles#candle magick#candle magic#candle magik#candle witch#fire witch#magick#carromancy#ceromancy#carromankeia#fire safety#candle safety#witch tips#witchcraft#magik
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waves on the Shore - Chapter 11: Chapter 11 Sneak Peek
Aight so first, if you have not yet heard, updates are gonna slow down a bit because my life is in shambles. Don't worry, I'm still sexy, just need to make sure I don't fail college or die. Second, thanks to everyone who left a comment or sent a sweet message, y'all are keepine me going like an IV tube. Third, something kinda funky has been going on with the tags, so lmk if for some reason you did not get a notification and should've. I love tumblr.
~Wince from the future here with an extra note: just realized that I forgot to write a kind of important part of this so this preview might not be thaaaaat representative of what coming up. Might rb with a better version soon~
WOTS masterlist // wc: 1.2k // triggers: uhhhhhhh none? // @edenstarkk, @modernamilf, @dedicated2viktor, @doctorho, @yeehawbvby, @arcaneparx, @the-lake-is-calling
Viktor could not find his pants.
Last night, he worked through a glass of sweetmilk as he slithered out of his clothes, leaving them on the floor so he could change into clean sleepwear with maximum efficiency. He even spilled a little of the sweetmilk on them, but he figured that he could deal with it in the morning.
Well, it was morning now, and though the red pool of his shirt was still where he’d dropped it, with the sweetmilk dried up but the smell still there, his pants had disappeared without a trace. Once again, it would’ve been a problem for later, if he hadn’t left his ID and keys in there.
He scoured every inch of his apartment, under his bed, on top of the bookshelves, even in his fridge. Nothing. He was pantsless. He’d have to hope that the front desk believed his story until he found them. They were somewhere in his room, he was certain, as he’d used them to unlock the door just last night.
“Yes, I have lost my ID, but if you just check the-” he reached over the secretary’s desk to point out where his name should’ve been.
“I’m sorry sir, but with increased security on campus we can only allow entry to people with Academy-issued IDs.”
“Helen, you’ve seen me come in every day for the past year.”
“I know, but,” Helen sighed, “look, they’re taking this whole body found on campus thing really seriously, and I don’t blame them. People have already lost jobs because they didn’t follow protocol, so I’m sorry, but I really can’t afford to cut corners now.”
Vikor leaned both of his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes.
“Apologies,” he mumbled, “I did not mean to be so rude. It is a stressful time.”
“Yeah. It is,” she rested her cheek in her hand and looked at him with her olive green eyes, “but you know where you can get a provisional one, right?”
“Of course,” he straightened his spine, “do you think you could give a message for me, though?”
*****
“Uh... do we still have that?”
“He said it’s in the cooler.”
“Since when was there a cooler?”
“Whole time.”
“Oh,” you could barely look Jayce in the eye as you said that, “well then I’ll, uh, get ready for transport.”
Viktor had kept his word; and you really would not put it past him to wake his best friend up in the middle of the night to tell on you. But, at least for now, Jayce was none the wiser.
Somehow, it made you feel worse, like that time you’d tried to steal blueprints. He was just so nice, and it felt so wrong, but you could bare the guilt this time. Viktor said last night that this project meant “everything” to him.
You were up in the air about whether or not Viktor was a liar. You weren’t aware of any lies that he’d said, so either he was a really good one or he didn’t bother, but you did know that, regardless of his inclinations, he could lie if he wanted to. And he protected Jayce and that work with a rare kind of fire.
You wanted to verify. To see just what kind of foundations your bargain from the night before was built upon.
“So where’d you get the idea for this stuff, anyway?” you tried to ask it casually when Jayce came back into the room, holding the cooler with the lab saftey-approved two hands method.
“Uh, transporting cadavers?” he said as he plonked the cooler on the table.
“No, no, I mean like, portals and all that. It’s not exactly what magic is known for, after all,” you carefully moved the slick, black, Noxian portal circuit that they’d used to transport the mice all those days ago onto the table, where you could wire it into the power units.
“Hoo boy,” Jayce cracked his neck, “get ready for story time with Jayce.”
“There’s lore?”
“Yup. With a test, later,” Jayce cracked a grin, “But seriously, way back when I was, like, 9, my mom and I were coming back home from a trip up to Targon, and we got stuck in the weather. I’m talking the most aggressive blizzard you’ve ever seen.”
He moved his hands theatrically, like someone telling a tall tale at a bar. But you believed him.
“We were out there, completely lost because we couldn’t see anything, and on top of it all, my mom was getting hypothermic.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, she lives,” he said hastily, before putting his narrator voice back on, “It’s bad, my mom can’t go any further, and then, out of nowhere, this tall, hooded figure with a staff just appears in the snow. And he offers this to me.”
Jayce undid the bracelet on his hand - the one that he wore every day - and passed it to you. Embossed in the middle was a dull, blue crystal in the shape of a tear drop, with a rune carved into it.
“Not the whole thing, just the crystal. And at first, I’m not sure, but then I realize that if I don’t trust him we’re screwed, so I let him help us, and he-” Jayce looked up for a moment, his parted lips dispalying his gap tooth as he recalled the memory with the same awe he must’ve had as a child, “he started doing these motions. I’d realize later that it was a somatic component of a spell, which, as you know, we can synthetically create in a lab, but even then, something about how he did them was just... magical. And there was this flash of blue light, and the next thing I knew, we were at the bottom of the mountain in sunlight, and everything was okay.”
“He sapped the crystal,” you observed, resting the leather that the crystal was in between your fingers.
“Yup. I guess it was useless so he just... let me have it,” he chuckled, accepting the bracelet as you returned it to him, “but I swear, it was... really something.”
He was half in the world and half in his head. It was endearing, you thought, the way that he couldn’t even describe his own devotion without dissolving into a puddle of feelings.
“I believe you,” you said.
“It saved me once, and I think that it can save the Ionians now,” he looked down at you, and the gap tooth disappeared behind closed, resolute lips.
Gods, even if you were unsure of the portals, you couldn’t doubt Jayce. He literally wore his heart on his sleeve (or, under his sleeve and on a bracelet). He was... trying. You were both trying.
And, maybe, since he had been so accommodating to you, you could accept your place in his dream. For now. Even if it didn’t feel like home.
#viktor x reader#viktor arcane x reader#viktor arcane#viktor#viktor x you#enemies to lovers#slow burn#viktor x y/n#arcane x reader#jayce talis#mel medarda#mel#caitlyn#jayce#waves on the shore#caitlyn kiramann
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
hey barista! | l.dh
summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad
pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(
genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)
warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!
word count | 3k+
s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]
author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT
just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.
seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.
upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed.
“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”.
“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.
now that was embarrassing.
your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started.
after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers.
“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside.
“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made.
“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited.
jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.
“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out.
“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded.
“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.
you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.
meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party - jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.
“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.
“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.
“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home.
following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically.
ding dong!
he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone.
“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it.
“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made.
he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.
seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.
“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.
“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted.
“i��d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets.
“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.
“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you.
why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck.
those words kept running through his mind all day.
“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence.
“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers.
stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less.
“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.
“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.
“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.
you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy.
nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home.
hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.
1. being happy around them
like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave.
2. feeling nervous around them
his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him.
3. getting jealous over someone else
he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.
his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more.
“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.
“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days.
i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated.
“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.
“i don’t know. it’s just-”
“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more?
“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands.
god, what have i done?
“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.
“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening.
jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back.
looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.
“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air.
“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.
“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure.
letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair.
“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.
you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.
“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.
“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.
“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him.
not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.
“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence.
jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride.
— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.
#neoturtles#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct oneshots#nct 2020#nct fluff#nct angst#haechan imagines#haechan oneshot#haechan fluff#haechan angst#haechan x reader#nct haechan#nct jaemin#nct lucas#wayv lucas#nct dream imagines#nct dream oneshots#kpop fanfictions#kpop imagines#kpop oneshots#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct u#nct 127
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Heroes: Spencer Reid
Request: cooould i request a spencer reid x reader where the reader and Spencer are on a car ride? it could be that they are on a case and they have to drive (maybe the jet is broken? or something idk) and it's sunset, they spill feelings and so much fluff? 'With Heroes by David Bowie'
rb: @ellyhotchner
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Warnings/Includes: mentions of Spencer's gunshot wound, kissing, fluff.
Spencer Reid chuckled as he crutched toward the SUV parked in the lot. He was a little too fast on crutches for a man who had been shot in the leg. It was a little while since he'd been let back to work and he stupidly lied about being allowed to travel so now, the way for lesser trouble was to have him drive back with another agent and Hotch assigned the dreadful task to you. "Could I at least drive?"
You shook your head as you caught up, "Flex your foot, Reid." He paused, putting his foot out and flexing it. With an immediate intake of breath and wince of pain, you shook your head again. "I will drive."
"Fine," he sighed, tossing you the keys. He paused again sheepishly at his door. "W-would you mind helping me into the car?"
"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry-" you pressed the unlock button and walked to the other side of the car with haste, taking Spencer's crutches and standing still so he could use your arm to stabilize him as he climbed in.
His thin fingers lingered on your upper arm for a second and he blinked a few times before looking up at you through his hair. "Can I choose the music?" He asked it as if it was the most serious question in the world. But he knew what was coming,
"Hell no!" You bat his hands away and darted to the other side whilst Spencer tried to beat you to the radio. He was already in the car, so of course, he beat you to it, but you jumped into the driver's seat and bat his hands away again. "Damn it, Spencer. I won't sit through another four-hour drive of nothing but Simon and Garfunkel!"
"I don't want Simon and Garfunkel!" He protested, his eyes wide. You couldn't stare him down without your heart racing, so you waved your hand in dismissal, starting the car as he fidgeted with the sound system.
Pulling out of the dank, dark of the precinct parking lot, both of you had to shield your eyes from the sun. Staying inside an interrogation room all day, you two were hardly aware it was even day. You checked the car's clock- it was nearing six o'clock.
Late spring, the days were getting longer. Shielding your eyes with the visor, you pulled onto the road. Spencer clicked a button and music began to play. You looked at him, mock-anger in your eyes and hit him in the shoulder, "This is Simon and Garfunkel!"
"Be nice, I was shot!" His voice climbed in pitch. Your hand shot forward and Spencer was faster, so he caught your hand before you could even touch the radio. His hand was cold as ice and his palms were soft. Spencer wouldn't hurt you, so the most he could do would be to stop you from acting. Your heart skipped a beat and the car swerved the slightest bit. His voice was higher now, "Eyes on the road!"
He was lucky he was so gorgeous, it saved him from a lot, but you'd never tell him that. He'd probably use it to his advantage and you had never been good with romantic feelings, so it was best you treated him with... friendly hatred. There was a thin line between working well together and working too well together so you used your friendly hatred to try and hide from the team... maybe a little... well, they're all profilers- it was for peace of mind.
So you let him have his Simon and Garfunkel, but only until you made it to the highway and you moved fast enough to get to the radio.
"-Playing you the top 80s hits all day, every day," the radioman said before the song kicked in. You laughed at Spencer who looked like he just entered hell.
"We grew up in the 80s, don't tell me you don't like 80s music!" You gasped, turning your head back to the road. "Spencer..."
"Actually, studies say the music you listened to in high school is the music you're supposed to like for the rest of your life, meaning for us two, the mid to late nineties."
You nodded, then glanced over again, "But didn't you graduate high school at twelve, boy genius? That would be... 1993?" You recounted his years at school and then your own shortened experiences.
Spencer shook his head, "It's-it's the time period of a typical person's high school years. From when we were... uh- fourteen to about seventeen for us, even with accelerated minds. I listened to Simon and Garfunkel and you were... stuck in the 80s?"
"Probably," you laughed, turning up the music as you continued down the freeway. The sun continued to shine, going from soft natural light and eventually sliding into a deeper shade of orange.
It had already been an hour and a half on the road and you had your hand out the SUV window while the sweet wind blew the left edge of your hair in boundless spirals. Spencer had just finished a long, educational rant about the production of record disks, which you already knew about, but listened anyway. You loved how excited he got to tell you things, his hands flailing about, gesturing to demonstrate ideas and thoughts.
Looking over, he seemed to enjoy feeling the air on his skin and wind in his hair. So you decided to drive onto one of the side roads, surrounded by dusty hills and rising dunes for twenty minutes more, letting him relax without worrying about his head being taken off by a semi. He deserved it, after all, he risked things to come out here.
It was finally your turn to put on the radio and you caught the radioman doing his little talking blurb, this time discussing the topic of summer cottages before the song kicked in.
Heroes by David Bowie. You gasped, "Oh my god, I haven't heard this in ages!" Spencer looked over and smiled a little, ruffling his hair. You didn't notice that smile of his, you were busy going absolutely ballistic over this song that meant so much to you. The song always made you feel oddly limitless and free. You didn't regard his constant admiration for you in the moments when you weren't looking.
You had turned up the music and let your hand out the window do the dancing you couldn't in the car. This song was powerful, beautiful, and your focus was balanced between music and road, not on Spencer, who seemed to be sinking into the beauty of the song as well as the beauty of you.
He always admired your liveliness. You brought out the less analytical, fun, youthful side to him and he really did need that sometimes. Watching you drive, hair blowing, he remembered the lyrics to the song. They may have been locked up in his mind somewhere, but he knew them and watching you enjoy the music so freely, he tapped the window's edge and mumbled along.
You didn't really care about much in those moments, because when you looked over and saw Spencer knew the lyrics, something about that made your heart flutter. The music, the lighting, him. You.
The view out the window was magnificent. Red sand, a dipping ravine and you were overtop of it all. Everything about these moments continued to get better, so you decided to pull over. Just for a minute.
"What are you-" Spencer started, but looking out the window he saw just what you did. You put the car into park, but kept it on, turning up the radio and hopping out. Spencer was able to get out of the car himself and crutched over to where you stood against the SUV door.
♬ We could be heroes, just for one day ♬
Oh, it was so gorgeous you could stay here forever and not need anything else, ever. That was until you turned to Spencer, admiring how he looked on this abandoned roadway, standing in the golden light, shadows cast perfectly over his face. You smiled up at him, time seemingly slowing for all of this to happen. It was an odd notion that the world continued to move when it was just you, him, and David Bowie blasting loudly on the radio.
He was thinking the same thing as he watched the way you shut your eyes for a moment, taking it all in. You didn't want to shut your eyes in fear maybe all of this would disappear. The dream-like lighting and Spencer, looking as if he was sculpted by the most talented artists, just seemed too perfect to really exist there with you.
But you needed to pull it together just for a moment, just to make it seem like you were still there with him, because if you stared too long, maybe you would accidentally fall into said dream.
"Not many views like these in Quantico," you turned to face him and he looked down at you before turning to face you as well. His hands were on his crutches but they looked like they begged to be in his pockets so he could rock on his heels. "It's so beautiful."
"You'r-" he coughed and cleared his throat, brows furrowing as his head turned back to off the ravine. Was he about to- no, you were kidding yourself? There was no way, it was the Bowie. "It is beautiful. E-especially with the lighting."
You nodded, "Mhm. I didn't know you knew any Bowie."
"It was actually Bowie's 12th studio album, released on October 14th, 1977, the only album in the Berlin Trilogy that was actually recorded in Berlin. I... read and listened." He scrunched his nose, probably afraid you wouldn't like him ranting, but you always listened.
You cringed, "I may have already known that."
"Oh, sorr-" he cut himself off when you smiled at him. There was something about this song that made him want to tell you everything he'd ever thought about you from the moment you'd met. Something about the lighting that made you so much more enticing and entirely beautiful. Of course, he already thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, but right now, you were glowing.
And you were thinking the exact same thing. He was standing less than two feet from you, looking down at you. Tall, beautiful, glowing. He was silent, as were you, but Bowie sang loudly to cover the sound of both of your beating hearts. Your smile faded, but it showed in your eyes.
Spencer looked at his feet while the song took over and he tucked your hair behind your ear without hesitating. You bit the inside of your cheek as he reverted back to where he stood, his straight-lipped smile kind and genuine. His eyelashes fluttered from your eyes to your lips and he was standing there. The feelings were unspoken, but all the same, mutually understood.
So you went to kiss him. It was all you could do and it was all he was wanting, but there was a shooting pain that shot up his leg like fire as he took the step forward, pulled by your hand on his shirt.
"Shit! Ow- my... hm... my leg-" He hissed in pain and you immediately let go. So much for that buildup. You would have kicked yourself mentally if it didn't already look like Spencer had been kicked by ten muscular men on leg day.
You covered your mouth with one hand and gripped his elbow with the other, "Spencer, I am so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking- all of it completely slipped my mind and I am... God, I'm so sorry, can I help?" You launched into random rambling, your heart racing.
Spencer reached up to your shoulder for stability and his head bowed to rest on your other shoulder for a half-second. You let him stabilize himself because he was in pain, but that wasn't his intent. Not a tick more later, his hand moved an inch up higher on your shoulder, then moved to the place between neck and shoulder. His hand continued travelling upward until it was on your cheek.
Taking you much by surprise, as you thought you caused him more pain than he was really in, he pressed his lips to yours as the last chorus hit. He finished what you had failed to properly start and there was no longer any more shame in that mess. His right crutch clattered to the ground and he didn't seem to care at all. His hands held your face firmly as your hand went right back to clutching his shirt, keeping him close as you kissed him back with the same passion.
Golden light, David Bowie, a gorgeous view, an abandoned road, and each other. You may have pinched yourself to check if maybe this was a dream, but it wasn't. Spencer wouldn't stop laughing when the kiss ended- that breathy, happy laugh you always admired. You weren't sure why until he held out his wrist to show you that he had pinched himself as well and you both burst out laughing a little harder than you should have. If this was how the world ended, you would end it in the best possible way, entirely content. But this was far from the end of anything, in fact, it was only the beginning of a whole lot of BAU teasing once they got a hold of the happenings of this road trip.
You gave Spencer a knowing look, scrunching your nose and he was thinking the same thing again.
"Maybe we'll lie to them for a bit?" You suggested, cringing again with a slight smile.
He nodded comprehensively, fighting a returning smile. "Keep this as far from Derek Morgan's hands as possible." He tucked your hair behind your ear again and finally grinned at you before picking up his crutch and letting you help him back into the SUV.
He got to the radio before you did and you gasped in near disbelief. "Spencer, no Simon and Garfunkel!"
Request Here
Tags: @mercy-burning, @laurakirsten0502, @softhairedhotch
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#derek morgan#cm#cm fanfic#spence#spencer x reader#mgg#mggfanfic#criminalminds#s5spencer#davidbowie#music#romance
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
100 follower fic request special!
please read entire post before making a request.
info :)
I have no concrete word count for them, but anticipate around 1k for each one! I would like to write about 1k-2k, but time constraint + creativity + familiarity with characters may make it vary!
all drabbles will be pulled together and posted onto AO3 unless specified otherwise! specific requester will be put in the fic summary as well :]
window for requests will run from today (12/27/21) to New Year’s Eve (12/31/21). ADDITIONALLY, I will most likely cap all requests at 20, so if we hit it before the end of the window I will likely close the window :[
Please pay attention to whether requests are open or not. My ask box will most likely be open even if requests are over so my friends can come and say hi ^-^
I will aim to get these posted prior to January 4th, but please know it may go over a few days. I will not try to answer these in the exact order, but I will answer all that I receive (unless request is rejected).
Everyone may only give one request; however, if you would like to request two separate prompts within a single ask, I will pick one and write it.
You are allowed to request even if you don’t follow me! Just don’t request if you have me hard-blocked. Not because I’d really mind, mostly just because that would be kind of awkward for you, I’d think?
I don’t prioritize who gets to request and who doesn’t. I might extend the window/the amount I’ll take, but that’s it. Don’t worry, if all goes well I’ll probably do this again!
what I will write!
DreamSMP
OriginsSMP [I will assume S2 unless specified otherwise!]
30 Day SMP
hard limits
I will not write anything explicit, boundary-breaking, or overly gore-y.
I will write romantic relationships, however I will only do these with characters who are shown within these relationships in canon, or creators who have voiced that they are okay with their characters being shipped.
I do not write RPF.
You may request AUs, but I will reject most crossovers, by virtue of me not knowing every media ever. If I’ve posted a lot about a fandom before, you can assume that I am able to do a crossover with it (ex. FNAF, NITW, LiS, etc.)
Please avoid overly detailed prompts or very vague prompts. If you send me, like, a single word, I can probably write something with that, but I can’t ensure that you’ll like it? If you send me a 200 word prompt, I will also not know what to do with that.
For DreamSMP specifically, I won’t write anything that outright puts c!Dream in a positive light, anything about Michael_Beloved being injured, and I may be dicey with really early DSMP content since I wasn’t around then. But it varies case-by-case, and I want to broaden my horizons, so feel free otherwise! :D
I have the right to reject any request for any reason and will let the individual know ASAP (if off-anon, I will privately reply. if anonymous, I’ll make a post with enough identifying details regarding the request for the person to be informed). If I reject your request, you may put in another one.
These limits may change overtime. If so, I will explicitly edit this post AND make another post establishing this.
to send a request, just leave me an ASK (off-anon OR anon is fine) with the SMP, the characters, and the prompt you would like written. I will not do a request if it is sent to me in any other fashion.
thank you for all the support again, love you guys! happy requesting :)
rbs encouraged!
#nightmare.personal#nightmare.fics#OKAY TO RB!#as i said i will leave ask box open for people to just say hi so don't worry abt that#i am rusty at this last time i did requests was a while ago so bear with me!
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ricciardo fans really getting offended because Lando dared to complain about him? 😂 It's the same thing over and over again.
I see nothing but excuses for Danny boy, for situations many other drivers would already be shamed It's this misconception about the Australian bein the "nice" and "funny" guy. Interesting how a big grin can fool people.
And now you're going after Lando for not being how you want him to be- the #2 who goes out of the way and doesn't say a word. I even saw people saying "he is not funny" as a complaint about him. I didn't know this was a criterium for being a racing driver. And i don't think he ever proclaimed himself as a comedian 🤷♀️
His fans find excuses for others like "they can be on the top, they can say whatever they want". Funny, because it's actually the younger drivers who should be expected to be passionate- and i don't think there's any doubt that Lando can fight for the top spots. So why shouldn't he be allowed to say when something bothers him?
The thing is, RIC is the clear #2 and his fans can't accept this. Because since day one in RB, they claimed he is gonna be world champion. It's been what now, 8 years? And he still didn't produce any results. Ironically, it's RIC fans who call Lando overhyped... 🙃
And now the younger driver dares to criticise him. I see a pattern here. Lando is being given the Vettel treatment. The young driver in his early 20s, who dared to beat the older teammates. Always the bad guy. Whatever he says and does, it's always wrong. I saw things being said about him i better not repeat here. If you outed yourself as a "vettel fan", you were being put into a corner like a stupid kid who doesn't have a clue about F1. I see the same thing happening with Lando fans. It's a crime to see potential in somebody. The antis see it too, that's why they feel threatened.
We live in a world where you're being shamed for being young.
Just as RIC keeps making jokes about Lando's age. I don't think this makes him funny, what's funny about that? 🤷♀️
66 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
bachyeo
Bachyeo
prince-of-elsinore
Bus in Jello
triumphorce
clavevesari
ujija-blog
Untitled
xx-wizard-xx
Xx.Wizard.xX