coming up roses ══ paladin!mike
Every year, a tournament is held in your name. Each year, your loyal knight wins. And each year, you and your loyal knight meet after dark, sharing secrets that only the two of you can know. But this year, you want more. You need it.
paladin!mike x princess!reader
wc; 6k
warnings: smutttt, yearning, forbidden love, HOTD level tournaments, making out, mutual virginity loss, inexperienced reader, slightly experienced mike (knights talk everyone), fingering, p in v, praise kink (if you squint), big dick mike (THIS IS CANON TO ME), no condom usage, no use of y/n
[a/n: this is for my paladin!mike lovers! you are not alone! also....my first time writing smut!! be nice, this was certainly out of my comfort zone. i’m ace so basically…yeah…but i heard those who identify as ace write the best smut? i’ll let y’all be the judge… and as another note: this is clearly based off of GOT/HOTD which used to be my shit (clearly unleashed something in me as i was writing this) ]
METAL CLASHED AGAINST metal as the tournament began. The stands were filled with commonfolk and nobility alike, all gathered for the spectacle of the joust.
Every year the tournament took place, at this very spot, all dedicated towards you, the crown princess of the realm. The delight and heart of the kingdom.
You were the King’s only surviving child, the true ruler of the kingdom outright. The commonfolk loved you and members of the nobility envied you and the power you would soon hold. Most just saw you as a stepping stone, another rung in the ladder for their family to rise in station.
This year the nobility was especially excited, for this year you had finally reached majority. And now, offers could be put in for your hand. The most coveted hand in all of the realm.
With you as a bride you guaranteed power. And many ruthless families were eager to climb to the throne beside you.
But you couldn’t care less about the prospect of marriage or the Lords who tried to woo you with their tricks. For you had eyes for only one man.
And he was the one person you could not have in his entirety.
The matchup ended in blood, the crowd roaring as the poor young knight was dragged away, clutching his bloodied arm in pain. You were used to the bloodshed, you had witnessed it your entire life.
It was here, at the tournaments where men fought men with cruelly sharpened blades and at home, where you watched your mother and her handmaidens fight in the birthing chamber, desperate to please their husbands and the realm alike.
It sickened you. The anxiety that churned in your stomach was a familiar ache, only subdued by the fact that you knew who would come out victorious.
He had promised you under the bareness of a moonlit meeting, whispered sweet nothings as he held you close and told you that he would win. He had never broken his promises to you and he would not break it this time.
The first tournament you remember was the first one he participated in, years ago. You were both just children then, children with the weight of the world placed upon your shoulders.
He had a mission then. He had to prove his worth. Prove his strength, his agility, his bravery. Not to you–no he never had to prove anything to you, but to your father. If he was to be assigned to you for the remainder of both your natural life and his, he needed to be the best.
He needed to win.
Every time his blade met with another you fought to control yourself, no one could understand the depth of your attachment to the young knight, or else it was doomed before it ever began.
The final round had ended in blood, a permanent deep scar marring his face as a result of his victory. After that, every year you made him promise to you that it would never happen again. That you would never have to see his blood on the blade of another man for the sake of glory in a tournament dedicated to you.
No one had been able to touch him since.
As the round ended and the contestants switched over, you played mindlessly with the fabric of your dress. The sleeves itching against your arms in the summer heat.
Your father sat behind you, an impassive look on his face as he looked down upon the people of your kingdom, assessing. Your mother sat next to him, looking impossibly bored as an older lord chatted with her, no doubt inquiring about your hand.
That seemed to be all of the fuss lately, which did nothing to settle the anxiety in your stomach. It seemed that there was a clock above your head, ticking down towards the day that your fate was taken from you, the day that you were ripped from the arms of your lover and placed into the arms of a man who would never truly know you.
Two sets of hands poked at your sides, making you look up.
Jane’s expression was soft, understanding. “Cheer up, Princess. You look especially glum today.”
Maxine nodded from her spot on the other side of you. “Appearances matter.” Her voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper, “And you can’t suddenly act so happy at the sight of a certain someone, so please, at least act happy now, so the realm doesn’t see past the smile you’ll give him.”
You sighed, brushing a small braid back from your face. “I know. It just feels harder this year.”
“That’s because it is,” Max tapped your cheek, smiling softly as the corner of your lip quirked up. “But there is always something to be happy about, my dearest friend.”
A smile, tight and practiced erupted across your face, and your hands found purchase in both Max’s and Jane’s, your two handmaidens squeezing you lightly.
There were many ways in which you were blessed and one large way was because you had them.
A horn sounded from the middle of the grounds, the court herald’s voice sounding against the roars of the crowd, “Welcome, Sir Jason of House Carver and Sir Michael of House Wheeler!”
It was deafening as the people cheered, banging their cups and coin against chairs and ledges, calling out the name of their favorite. You ignored it all, your eyes drawn towards the only person that mattered.
The silver of his armour reflected the sunlight, brightening even further against the midnight black of his horse. His squire held the flag of his house behind him as he rode to the middle, the burning heart seared into your memory.
His face was covered by his metal helmet, but you knew his dark hair was clinging to his pale skin, sweat covering his brow. You watched him closely as the two knights approached the stand, bowing in respect towards your mother and your father and then…towards you.
The smile you returned their bows with was practiced, regal and poised in the very manner you had been trained in your entire life. But your eyes could not lie the way your lips could.
And he could tell.
You knew what would come next, in fact, everyone did. It had become a sort of a tradition between the princess and her sworn knight, looked past by the people of the realm due to the depth of his station beneath yours.
House Wheeler was a small house, one not even allowed to contend for the prospect of royalty. That’s why he was allowed to be your knight after all. It was the highest station he would ever achieve.
He removed his helmet, his long curly black hair clinging to his forehead. His eyes held yours with conviction, clouded with a duty that only few could understand.
Your heart leapt in your chest at the sight of his beautiful face. It took everything in you to keep your eyes locked with his and not drift towards the pale pink of his lips, the very object of your desire.
The lips that kissed your skin like it was holy, the mouth that said vows against your own in the middle of the night, praying for the world to change.
His voice spilled from him like an aged wine, your heart warmed as the familiar words graced your ears, “Princess, please grant me the honor of your favor, as I compete in this tournament held in the honor of your nameday.”
Your hands slinked out of the comfort of your friends and found purchase on the white laurel resting in your lap. You stood, the entire kingdom watching in fascination as your dress flowed behind you, your beauty catching the breath of even the most bitter souls in the crowd.
With two steps forward, you reached your hand out, carefully dropping the laurel onto Michael's lance.
You gripped the edge of the wall, leaning over the ledge as far as you could. “Of course I give you my favor, my fierce protector, may it guide you to success in the tournament.” The words you repeated were practiced, but the tone at which you said them was telling of your devotion. A risk of the nature of your affection, but you couldn’t help it.
A storm passed behind his eyes, seen by only you. He bowed once more, his face blank, “Of this, I have no doubt.”
Without ceremony, he placed his helmet back on and grabbed the reins. You watched on as he returned to the middle of the grounds and the fight began.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Moonlight drifted into your room, white curtains swaying in the summer breeze. You stood at the edge of your room, arms resting against the cool stone of your window as you watched the sea beat against the shoreline next to the castle.
The waves drifted in and out, rising and falling, like the beating of your heart as you came down from the excitement of the night.
The dinner held in your honor was eventful, Lords stumbling over each other as they fought to ask you for a dance. You said yes to some, needing to keep up the appearance of a young princess weighing her prospects.
There was one particularly eager Lord that had taken up far too much of your time, one that you knew both your mother and father approved of. One that the realm had seemed to approve of as well.
But you were immune to his ‘charms’. They were all juvenile to you. For you knew real affection–and his comments about you were not so.
The lingering reminder that you would have to marry one of these men plagued you the entire night, every corner you turned, every conversation you had. In fact, every conversation the entire room had seemed to be about it.
Your heart was breaking slowly, but the brown eyes of your devoted knight followed you the entire night. Keeping watch over you and your heart.
The wind blew the curtains back fiercer than before, followed by a soft click of the panel on the side of your wall. Light footsteps sounded against the cold stone floors, making their way towards you. You paid them no mind, unmoving from your spot on the sill.
Two arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind, encompassing you in a familiar warmth. You leaned into them slightly, closing your eyes as you did so.
Michael rested his chin against the crook of your neck, his nose rubbing against you as he breathed you in. He turned his head, his lips ghosting against you as he whispered, “Steve knows.”
You placed your hands on top of his, leaning your full weight back into the warmth of him. Your thumb rubbed against the back of his hand. Softly, you replied, “Steve has known since we were children, Michael.”
He let out a huff of air, the heat of it tickling your skin, “Yes, but he has never outright said it.”
Your head hung low, pulling away from him. His grip on your shoulders tightened, not allowing you to escape him fully. Tears gathered at the edge of your eyes, warm and sudden. Your voice was uncharacteristically soft, “He is only looking out for you. There’s only one way this ends.”
The tears began to escape you, rushing down your face in a cruel unforgiving wave of sadness. You couldn’t control the flood as it burst. Immediately, Mike turned you around, his large hands cupping your jaw. His thumbs brushed the tears from underneath your eyes, his lips kissing your cheeks, the taste of salt filling his mouth.
He shushed you, cradling you against him as he begged, “Please don’t cry, my love, it is your nameday. A day for celebration.”
He tilted your head up, forcing you to look into his eyes. His brow was wrinkled, his eyes filled with worry. Your lips quivered, “How am I supposed to celebrate when each passing year I am only going to be dragged further away from you?”
He brushed the wild hair back from your face, conviction in his tone, “I will never leave you.”
You grabbed his arms, running your hands against them, “But, I will leave you. Don’t you see it? The way they plot it even now.” You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “I will vow myself to another, give myself to them. With each part of myself I give to them, it will only take away what I have left for you.” Your hands found purchase on his, resting overtop of them on your face, “I will only hurt you.”
Mike bent forward slightly and rested his forehead against yours. He whispered against your lips, his voice wavering slightly, his own resolve breaking, “We both knew this day would come. I knew my fate the moment I stood in front of you and took my vows.”
You dropped your hands and curled into his chest, placing your ear to his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. You breathed him in, committing him to memory, “Does it not ache you, my loyal knight? Knowing that you cannot have me in my entirety? Because it is killing me.” You lifted your head, your hand creeping up towards his jaw, holding it into place as you let out, “You are the only one I want.”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes from the warmth of your soft hand, “Of course my heart burns for you. You are the only person I shall ever love. But you have a duty to your kingdom.”
“But what of your duty to me?”
He straightened immediately, eyes wide, “I have never faltered in my vow to protect you. I have never broken any promise to you, ever.”
You dropped your hand, “You swore to protect me. All of me. From all and any harm.” You backed up onto your bed, landing on the plush mattress, “My heart is being ripped from my chest, you are being torn from me, slowly. You are a part of me, whether others can recognise that or not.”
He watched you closely as you traced the patterns of your quilt, now scared to look at him. You ran your hand along the edge, “No one will ever know me in the ways which you do.”
Mike took a step closer to you, carefully parting the divide. He knew that there was something you were intentionally leaving out, he could detect the nervousness in your behavior. He stood at the edge of your bed, his legs between yours. His voice held a more serious tone behind it, low and gruff, “What are you asking of me, Princess?”
You pulled him down by the thin cloth of his tunic, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. You chased after him, the kiss messy and heated, trying to communicate everything you’re feeling without saying it. He followed your lead, struggling to keep himself up and not crash down into you.
His hands settled into the space next to your thighs as he held himself up, bent over your frame. You pulled back slightly, breaking the kiss. Wishing that he would let himself unravel into you.
Your hands crept around the back of his neck, tangling into his hair. You were desperate, full of burning desire. “There is one way in which we have not shared with another. Please, Michael, I need you. I cannot bear another man claiming what should be yours.”
His breath hitched immediately, “That’s a line we cannot undo. I will not condemn you.”
You shook your head, “How can you tell me it is wrong? We are in love. I have never loved anyone but you.” One hand removed itself from behind his head, slowly tracing down his chest. Mike tensed underneath your touch. “Please allow me this choice before I am handed to another.”
His face began to burn, his skin heating up. He tried to focus on anything but you. On the effect you had on him. His control could only last so long, before it snapped.
You traced the hard lines of his torso, nails running lightly along the thin fabric. “You want this too, do you not? I can tell in the way which you hold yourself back from me. Scared to ask for what you truly want.”
He let out a shaky breath, unintentionally leaning more into you, “Yes, I want you. Who could not, my love. For you are the most beautiful person, both inside and out, in the entire realm.” His fingers began to run along the edge of your thigh, capturing the bare skin that was on display from the bunching of your night clothes. “But I hold myself back for you, out of the duty I hold. Out of my love and respect for you.”
Your hand moved from his chest towards the fingers that traced your thigh, interlacing your hands together. You stared at him, the eye contact between you the most intense it had ever been. You let out a small sigh, pleading against his lips, “Please, Mike.”
His resolve snapped all at once. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth as passion overtook the both of you. You deepened the kiss, tilting your head, his nose pressing into your cheek, a welcome pressure. A quiet and breathy moan left your lips as the hand that was locked in yours released and went to grip your hip, the pressure searing your skin.
Mike smirked into the kiss from the sound you released and you brought your hands up into his hair in response, pulling on it slightly. He let out a groan, pulling away from your lips.
You opened your eyes, watching as he started to place feather-light kisses on your jaw then down to your neck, where the sleeve of your dress had begun to dip lower.
This was not the first time the two had done something like this, but it was the first time you knew it would lead to something deeper.
Mike pushed your hip back slightly, not breaking his assault on your neck as you began to shift back onto the bed, allowing him enough space to place his knees on the bed in between your legs. The mattress dipped underneath his weight, bringing you even closer to him.
Your hands were still tangled in his hair, your eyes closed as you focused on him, and only him. His hand released your hip and slowly traced down the outside of your thigh to the inside. The touch was light, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
His knee pushed your thighs apart, opening you to him even further. His hand dipped between your legs. You stiffened immediately and gripped his wrist in your hand, making him pull back from your neck and pause.
Your eyebrows pulled in together, your voice slightly raspy, “What are you doing?”
Mike smiled, then placed a chaste kiss against your lips, “Relax, princess. This will feel good. It will make it more comfortable for you.”
You let out a sharp breath, an unfamiliar feeling ripping through your stomach, “Have you done this before?”
He laughed lightly at your jealousy and shook his head, “Of course not. But the knights talk of these things.”
Slowly you released your grip from his wrist, swallowing hard as you once again let him take control. Mike noticed your apprehension immediately, resting his forehead against yours. His voice came out low, filled with an emotion only you could invoke in your loyal knight, “Let me take care of you.”
You nodded and Mike took this as consent, watching you closely as he slipped his finger inside, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliar intrusion. He leaned down and kissed you, capturing your gasp as he began to pump his finger in and out, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever known.
Slowly he added another finger, stretching you. The tips of his long fingers curled, reaching a new spot, an unbelievable feeling emerging low in your gut. You moaned against his cheek, your hand reaching up to grip his bicep as his pace began to increase. His mouth was next to your ear, whispering low, “You’re doing so well, my love.”
“Mike–”
His thumb brushed up against your clit, the sensation sending a shock up your spine. You jolted back, throwing your head back in pleasure. Spurred on by your reaction, he began to rub his thumb against it.
Between the pace of his fingers, his thumb making circles against your clit, and the groans he was releasing against your ears from the arousal of your reactions, you began to feel a pressure build within you.
You started to breathe even heavier, coming out in short, quiet bursts. Mike recognized it for what it was as you began to clench onto his fingers. Lowly, he whispered, “You’re okay, just let go. I’ve got you.”
And so you did. Your body shook in response. Mike guided you through it, his lips meeting yours and pulling you in. You chased after him, needing to taste him, your tongues caught in a battle as you lost all composure.
When it became too much you fell back completely, resting against your pillows.
Mike removed his fingers from between your thighs, bringing them up to his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of him.
You watched with a sick fascination, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat covering your skin. The pale white of his scar caught against the moonlight, his face all sharp angles and pale shadows.
Mike’s hand caressed your jaw, his thumb brushing against it softly. His face was tinted pink, his eyes slightly hooded, “How are you feeling?”
Your hand reached up to toy with the tassels of his tunic, your eyes locked into his. “That was–that was…I don’t know what it was.”
His head tilted, “They really teach you nothing?”
You pushed against his chest lightly, no real bite to it. “Michael, you have sat in on my lessons since we were twelve. Have you heard anything of the like?”
Mike laughed, warm and familiar, “No, I guess not.”
A beat passed between you as you continued to stare into each other’s eyes, processing what had just taken place. All you could think about was what else you did not know. You swallowed hard, “What is…next?”
He pushed the hair that had stuck to your face from your sweat back, so gently it made your heart burn even brighter. “We don’t have to go any further, if you do not wish to do so, Princess.”
Your head shook instantly, “No! I want to. I do.” You leaned up to kiss his lips, your hands reaching down to grasp the bottom of his shirt. You began to untuck it from his pants, your fingers brushing against his warm, pale skin.
Mike looked wrecked as you pulled back, his eyes fluttering open, filled with desire. You whispered against his lips, “I want to make you feel good too.”
Mike suppressed the choked groan that threatened to leave him, resisting the urge to lose all composure. He helped you remove his shirt, slipping it over his head, before leaning back over you, his weight slowly pressing against you. “Tonight is not about me, my love.”
Slowly, your deft fingers began to untie the bow at the front of your slip, the fabric loosening around your shoulders. You watched him closely, cataloging every reaction. He bit his lip as you slowly stripped away the last barrier between him seeing you in your entirety. “I want you, Michael.”
His eyes glazed over, watching you with the hunger of a man so deeply and utterly in love. He would gladly welcome the ruin that could come from this if it meant he could have you. His fingers traced your collarbone, slowly hooking underneath your dress, “Then have me, you shall.”
With quick hands, he pulled your dress up, hands reverent as he helped you pull it over your head. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you bare beneath him.
The sight of you glowing and ethereal beneath the glow of the moonlight was something he never wished to forget. You didn’t shy from his gaze, so caught up in your own desire.
His fingers traced your ribs, his thumb brushing against the underside of your breast. You shivered from his touch, letting out a quick sigh. Mike was all hard lines and sharp edges. You were soft and piliable, like putty in his hands.
His eyes explored you as his hands experimented, ghosting over your body, brushing against parts of you he had never seen. His palm gripped your breast, softly squeezing. You arched into his hand, a small moan escaping you. His eyes darkened.
He praised you, his voice awed, “You are so beautiful.”
You flushed beneath him, the fire in your stomach flaring. With quick and shaking hands you reached for his pants, fumbling to loosen the drawstring. Gently, he used one hand to help you, his hands shaking as well.
He leaned back to slip them off fully, the final barrier removed.
You breath caught at the sight of him bared to you, the sharp curve of his pelvis leading down to his length. You reached for him then, pulling him by his arm to bring him against you once more. He slotted in between your thighs, his breath shaky. The nerves within him alight.
Before it went too far, he caressed your jaw, pressing his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more.”
He swallowed, then nodded. “I’ll go–I’ll go slow. Just tell me if it hurts and we can stop, at any point.” You nodded. He shook his head, “I have to hear you say it, Princess.”
“Please, Mike. Please.” You reached down towards him, assisting in guiding him. He let out a choked moan when your hand grabbed him carefully. His eyes screwed shut from the pleasure, “Fuck–you’re so soft.”
With strength behind it, he kissed you. Hot and messy. Licking the inside of your mouth, desperate to taste you. Your lips parted without hesitation, needing to feel him everywhere. Reluctantly he pulled back, a trail of spit connecting between you two as he rested his forehead against yours again.
One forearm held him above you, his bicep straining to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. The anticipation of being inside of you made him shake, undoing the years of brutal training.
You watched as he gripped his length, your hand tangled in the bedsheets as he slowly stroked himself, making sure he was fully prepared to enter you.
You shifted underneath him, your breath hitching in anticipation. He guided himself towards your entrance, the tip of him entering slowly. He watched your every reaction, his forehead still against yours as your eyebrows pinched together and your abdomen tensed.
The stretch was uncomfortable and you tried to relax as he kept slowly pushing into you, groaning at the warmth of you. His eyes squeezed shut as your hands reached up and snaked around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
Tears gathered in your eyes.
Mike was a little more than halfway there before he opened his eyes once more and noticed you crying. He stilled, “Am I hurting you? We can stop.”
His eyes were wide, nervously searching yours. You took a deep breath, letting it out with a slight shake. Mike took it as a sign and tried to pull away, thinking only about your comfort. But you stopped him, pulling your arms tighter around his shoulders, your voice shaky and raw, “Please, no. Keep going.”
Mike nodded, kissing your jaw as he started to move again, anything to distract you from the burning pain. You held onto him like a lifeline, trying your best to relax. He was long, slowly pushing deeper into you for what felt like hours.
His head dropped into the crook of your neck as he bottomed out, your pelvis’ kissing. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat.
He stayed there for a moment, trying to collect himself and allow you time to adjust. One of your fingers wrapped in his long curls, your hot breath against his neck blowing his hair back. You steadied yourself, his chest pressed tightly against yours.
With every breath each of you took, you pressed deeper into each other, the pressure and skin contact making everything even more heightened, intimate in the deepest sense.
The pain subsided, just barely. You muttered against his skin, nodding, “You can move now, Michael. I’m ready.”
Hearing his name part from your lips, filled with such desperate desire spurred a reaction low in his stomach, a slight whine leaving his lips as he started to move.
He was wrecked from how tight you were around him, warm and wet. It was a feeling unlike anything he’s ever known as he pulled out slightly, then thrusted back in, gentle and slow. Taking his time with you.
He found a pace that worked for both of you and slowly your pain morphed into pleasure, gasps and moans leaving your lips. You whispered his name, Mike twitched inside of you at the sound.
He kissed you, chastely, desperate to feel you everywhere. You pulled his curls slightly, a quiet moan tearing from his lips, he was lost in a haze. Lost in you. “You feel s’good. You’re amazing.”
He continued to move, his pace getting quicker as the two of you got caught up in the throes of passion. You wrapped your leg around his waist, desperate to feel him closer. “I love you, Michael.”
He smiled against your cheek, “I love you too.”
With the new angle from your leg, he hit a new spot within you. You gasped immediately at the sensation, arching into him. He continued to hit it, chasing your reactions like a high.
You clutched at his skin, trailing your hands up and down, gone out of your mind. Praise and half-formed words slipped from your lips, “No one– never– make me feel as good as you.”
He groaned at the praise and kissed your lips again, open mouthed and dirty, pulling the moan straight from your lips. His groin tightened, his voice raspy and breathless as he confessed, “I’m not going to last much longer.”
You nodded, clenching around him, “Me too.”
His hand reached down between you and began to rub along your clit, brushing it in circles, just like he had done earlier. You jolted, your head falling back into the pillows, the most choked out moan leaving your lips.
He kissed your collarbone, no doubt leaving bruises as he licked the salt and sweat from your skin. The room was filled with the sounds of both of you breathing heavily, your combined sighs and gasps of pleasure, and the slapping of skin as the two of you chased the very top of your highs.
The added stimulation brought you towards the edge, your hands went up into his hair, needing something to ground you as you pulled his curls hard.
You fluttered around him, panting. Mike soon followed after, fucking you through your orgasm, his seed spilling into you before he even had the thought to pull out.
He collapsed on top of you, his body spent from his orgasm and the effort of the act. Your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, hugging him towards you, desperate for the contact as you settled in. Rational thoughts returning to both of your minds.
Mike’s heart began to beat even more wildly as he realized what he had done, the warmth of you still around him. His release mixing in with yours.
He tried to pull away, scared and nervous, but you caught on immediately, pulling him in closer as you shushed him and whispered away his fears. “It’s okay, my love.”
He propped up onto one forearm, able to pull himself from you slightly. He shook his head, clearly losing the battle within himself, “I shouldn’t have done that. We can’t–”
Your hands rubbed up and down his back gently, “Relax, I’ll have my handmaidens bring me moon tea on the morrow.”
He seemed broken, fighting with himself and the duty he had prided himself on. He had gotten carried away, done what he had told himself he could not. Crossed a line even further than just laying with you. His voice came out clipped, “Princess.”
You reached up to place a kiss against his neck, humming against his skin, “Stop worrying and stay with me. Please.”
You needing him broke his resolve instantly. He could never deny you. “Of course.”
You smiled as he rested against you for a few moments. The weight of him on top of you was comforting, providing relief to your quickly beating heart.
Eventually he pulled out of you. He let out a little whine at the loss of your warmth. You mourned the loss of him inside you and his weight on top of you.
He fell down onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. You leaned into him, your legs tangling, the blanket soft as he pulled it over the two of you. Covering the both of you.
You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the two of you, about everything. Your heart burned once more, your palm resting against his beating heart. With devastating devotion, you whispered, “Thank you.”
Mike hummed, absentmindedly playing with your hair. “I meant what I said earlier.” You tilted your head up to look at him, confused. But he just stared up at the stone ceiling, his brows furrowed. “I will never leave you. Even if the world tries to tear us apart. No one could ever keep me from you.”
“I promise.” His words came out softer and you knew not to take it lightly. A knight’s promise was his vow, his unyielding display of loyalty and honor. And Mike was the best, most devoted knight in the kingdom, perhaps the most in the entire world.
You forgot how to breathe for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you. You loved him so much that it hurt. “I shall make a promise to you as well.”
His head snapped down to look at you, his eyes filled with an emotion he only knew how to show you. The object of his desire, affection, and burning need.
You maintained strong eye contact, unwilling to look away from him. “No matter who I marry, they shall never know my love like you do. They will never have my heart, for that is reserved only for you. In the daylight, you are my dutiful protector and under the cover of night, you are my lover.”
A storm passed between his eyes again, like the one at the tournament when you spoke to him in front of your people. Your fingers moved from his chest to the pale scar on his face, running against it lightly. It was a constant reminder of his devotion to you. You were determined to let him know that you would always feel the same.
“There is only me and you.”
Mike kissed you then, filled with devotion and love. Under the cover of the moon, the two of you rested into one another. Confessions and sweet nothings whispered against bare skin.
Tonight was yours. And in the morning, you would face reality, together.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
I seriously do not know what overcame me. This is the craziest thing I have ever written….
graphics credit: @uzmacchiato , @saradika-graphics
