rin is no stranger to the cruelty’s of war, however she would happily burn islands full of people to the ground if you so requested for her too even if it meant she had to relive the guilt of mugen. she would launch herself in front of su daji or an army of hesperians, fully naked, weaponless and her contact with the pheonix sealed off if you needed protecting.
she’s far too aware of what it’s like to loose people or watch those you love wither away, so she does anything in her power to prevent you from being the next victim of mortality.
you knew she loved you as soon as she began telling you about her life before sinegard, and her time under altan, because everyone knows she’d rather keep that to herself - and yet she trusts you with it. she smiles as she tells you all about kesegi or how beautiful altan looked with the wings of fire he’d curate. however she also tells you about how lost she felt after altan died, her encounter with the chimei that haunts her dreams some nights - how you’re her distraction from all the loss she carries.
yin nezha (tdr spoilers)
in the most cocky, proud way possible.
he’s been through a lot in life and he’s constantly hurting, but being with you feels like a breath of fresh air and because of that he’ll never shy away from proving he’s in love with you.
he loves to kiss you quick before you both head into a council (much to rin and kitays disgust as they follow behind you), or spending the time he should be sleeping following you around on patrol. he’s also definitely a sucker for back hugs - he’ll find you while you rest between sparring sessions and trap you against him just to ignore your complains that you’re overheating, or find you while you’re helping kitay with battle plans and snake his arms around you and bury his head into your shoulder despite kitays fake gags and comments to ‘get a room’.
he also shows that he loves you by being truly vulnerable around you - he’s the heir of the dragon republic, and even before jinzha was killed he still felt like he had to uphold appearances to prove he’s just as strong as his big brother, to prove he’s fit to be a general. but with you he’s not afraid to cry after a particularly gruelling battle or after an argument with rin or his father, he’ll let you trace the outline of his dragon tattoo gently as his breathing slows with relaxation despite just the thought of the image on his back causing him pain, he seeks out a place in your arms after each time he or you almost died.
he knows he was an asshole back in sinegard, and so he loves to make up for anything he ever said by treating you like his queen - refusing to let you sew up the hole in your uniform even though he barely knows how to hold a needle, making sure you’ve eaten your fill even when you’re surviving on limited rations by giving you half of his portion, somehow convincing his father to limit your patrol time or at least put him with you so he knows you’re safe.
bonus: he ALWAYS has a little trinket you found/made for him shoved into the inside breast pocket of his uniform - a shell, sea glass, stone, carving into a circle of wood, a bracelet made of washed up fishing nets, whatever — he keeps it close to his heart, like you’re the one that’s kept him alive though all his near death experiences, like you’re his wartime spouse that he’s longing to return home too.
chen kitay
in the most quiet ways, ways in which anyone but you might be convinced he doesn’t love you - silently but calculated.
one of kitays favourite ways is silent reading time - moments between patrols where the two of you sit next to eachother, your head on his shoulder, both engrossed in random books you found buried in piles of things, occasionally pausing to talk about what’s just happened in both with a giggle.
he won’t sling his arm around you in public, or invite you to share his uncomfortable bed when your rest times match up (although he will occasionally when he’s extra tired and wants to be in your presence) - but he will let you sit with him as he curates various small inventions that might help the war, or as he studies battle plans with furrowed brows trying to figure out how to guarantee victory.
sring venka
by acting like she doesn’t love you.
THEEEEEE tsundere (i’ve not used that word in years lol), she’ll act like she couldn’t care less about you being around her despite having previously confessed how head over heels she is for you.
she pretends that she doesn’t care that you’re following her around, blabbering about some rumour you heard from another soldier, crossing her arms after firing a round from her crossbow during training while acting like she’s not completely enamoured by the way your eyes light up when explaining a new concept you read about from one of kitays books. but in reality her cheeks are turning pink at the way you’re smiling at her, and her heart rate is speeding up so much at the way your hands brush when walking next to eachother that she’s worried it might jump out of her skin.
however sometimes she lets this facade down, because she trusts you and that’s how you know she loves you - she shows you the vulnerable side she vowed to keep hidden from everyone. when she wakes up in a cold sweat following yet another nightmare about her torment at golyn niis and immediately seeks your comfort out, and when she sinks into your arms and her breathing slows once again and she falls into a light slumber, you know she’s truly in love.
altan trengsin
in private moments of fleeting touches and comfortable mumbles.
in public, the most he’ll give you is a quick whisper of ‘stay safe’ or ‘i love you’ in your ear, or a soft smile during a meeting to let you know you’re plaguing his mind as usual.
altan is the kind of person to shut down under pressure (as we’ve seen lol) and refuse to speak to people unless needed, the kind of person to snap at everyone around him when under pressure - except you. when he’s overwhelmed, he craves your presence more than anything and will send for someone to bring you to his office, where he’ll ask you to stand between his legs and just sink into you - his arms around your waist, forehead pressed against your sternum as he exhales the stress pressing against his temples.
in private, he’s unafraid to prove how much you mean to him - his hands are constantly seeking you out, his knee resting against yours, smiling as you lean your head against his shoulder, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your head as he mutters a shy ‘i love you’ — because nothing else matters except you in moments like that. he feels like he can almost forget the rage and vengeance that’s constantly masking his judgement, that’s constantly contorting his thoughts and feelings, like you’re the key to his real mind.
baji
by teasing you RELENTLESSLY. this man is SO mean but in the most loving way that you can help but adore his teasing comments.
he doesn’t often say ‘i love you’ because that feels far too serious, that feels too much like a promise of forever, and everyone knows that shamans don’t have forever. so instead he falls back on poking fun at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, relentless teasing all while he looks at you like you single handedly hung the stars.
however - in private moments, usually late at night, or after a particularly scary battle where he came close to loosing either you or himself, he’ll find nonverbal ways to remind you that all his teasing comes from the most loving, deepest part of his heart. he’ll sit next to you, an arm draping around your shoulders, sitting in silence with his leg pressed against yours.
ramsa
as loud and proud as possible - the cutest fucking kid ever who will never shy away from telling you or even showing you how much he loves you no matter the situation.
in the middle of a meeting with the rest of the cike? he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and whispering silly little comments in your ears about how altan looks like he wants to strangle someone, or that baji is nodding off to sleep after having night watch. just finished a battle, covered in the blood of those you’d just killed? his arms are squeezing your shoulders from behind despite altan or chaghans comments to behave.
he’s purely just a playful, annoying kid at heart, and isn’t afraid to show everyone just how much he loves you - because if he can find his soulmate in a world plagued by war, why not show off his miracle?
however like baji, if one day after a particularly hard battle he’s riddled with anxiety of loosing you - he’ll pull you aside, hug you in a way that buries your face into his shoulder, make you promise to stay safe next time because he loves you and he can’t loose you.
my first ever post!! why is tumblr so confusing :,( i started the poppy war at the start of summer and i have slowly realised there is NOT enough fanfiction etc so for once i’ve resorted to writing it myself! lol
i’m terrible at knowing if things are in character etc so sorry if a few are a bit ooc (they’re most definitely probably ooc in terms of tbg because i’m current only on tdr sorry!)!! and apologies for no chaghan, qara or suni - i want so badly to add them in future but currently i have no idea how to write for them oops. in future i will 100% add them to other hcs, and maybe add jinzha??? i am a SUCKER for an mcs older brother, that scrumptious man (no pun intended).
any feedback, recommendations, requests etc are always welcome ♡
words: 3.5k
cw: general tpw trilogy warnings (mention of addictions and drugs, ch. 21, war)
!!! : english is not my first language so yeah, feel free to give advice and sorry for my mistakes <3 also it's my first time using this style, let me know if you enjoy it!
a.n.: I was planning of writing also about Daji and Jiang, but I realised I have too little context to write something reliable, so I'll just wait for the prequel or, if I feel like it, I might work on something a bit ooc. However is something I'll do in my free time if I feel inspired, so for now this is it, I loved writing this, hope you like this too
Altan Trengsin - passionate yet intimate
Altan’s love is pure fire, it runs deep into his core. He never knew what love was, never was he loved once but it hit him all of a sudden. You haven’t judged him for being a Speerly, nor saw him as a mere weapon, when you looked at him you just saw Altan, a boy who was forced to grow up faster than usual, you noticed how his eye colour shifted from red to brown, how his gaze get lost, how his jaw tightened when Tobi was making comments about his country, you noticed him for what he was. And so he slowly found himself falling for you. First it was after fights, he slowly approached you when it was your turn in the infirmary to check his wounds (except he never showed up before); then came Jun lessons, he always avoided having you as a sparring partner. At the same time you passed more and more free time together, after lessons, in the library, in Jiang’s garden,. Lastly it hit him, on a random day he realised the Phoenix was quiet, he was with you and the rage was gone, he suddenly allowed himself to smile. From then on he was always with you yet distant, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable from being the partner of “the last Speerly”, he couldn’t let you get through all of that; in public there were only stolen glances, light brushes of your hands and quiet time, whispers spread across Sinegard academy but nothing was confirmed, so it soon died. But in private, he was a starved man, he needed you, you became his centre, the only thing keeping him grounded, he loved you so much and yet didn’t understand, he hugged you, feeling your heartbeat and your warmth, you who never judged him, who always listened to him, you who started to feel like home when home was a word he thought he would never acknowledge again.
He wants you with him, he made that clear to everyone, when he was told to leave for the Cike he asked you to come with him, he needed you. Khurdalain is a war place, and Altan sometimes feels really sorry for dragging you here, when you’re surrounded by blood and misery, constantly in danger, yet he would never change his mind, mainly in this time. Warlords and generals were completely blind, not trusting the Cike and leading into dumb strategies. Cowards. They let him take all the guilt and hard decisions, he knows he should keep his calm, but it is getting harder and harder each day, the Phoenix screaming in his mind loudly. He feels his head hurting, pulsing with rage, chest tight and short breath. “Call her.” He breathes out, jaw tense. Qara stops her report, eyes wide when she senses the temperature of the room increasing, leaving with a small nod of acknowledgement, while he was turning on the pipe, already filled with opium. His mind is so lost that he nearly misses you entering the door, your hand slipping on his, pushing away the pipe from his mouth, taking it gently and putting it on the floor. “Altan,” you murmur, voice soft as you caress his cheek, forcing him to look at you “it’s fine, you’re fine”. His gaze burns into your skin, and all of a sudden he hugs you, head in the crook of your neck, sobbing like a child, while your hand roams on his back. And in the silence of that room, where the smell of opium lingers, it’s just the two of you, and the reality of that came crashing down; you were everything to him and he, he was Altan, just your Altan.
Chen Kitay - quiet yet deep
Kitay’s love is steady, it runs deep and it doesn’t need many words. He knew what love was in theory, yet he never really believed it was a thing in real life. It began like a simple friendship, classmates who helped each other at Sinegard, he was a nice shoulder to cry on when exams got difficult, ready to help you, and you, you became a constant in his life, something he hadn’t seen coming in his equation but couldn’t get rid of, and it was strange but he found himself unable to not like it. To not like you. You always supported his ideas, you listened to him rambling about some stuff he read and, what he loved most, you answered; you weren’t just listening to him bored, you were in the conversation, you asked, you add anecdotes and your point of view, and every time Kitay got lost in your eyes, shining as much as his own, your soft lips and red cheeks— he was gone. He really tried not to make it clear, not to ruin your friendship, but he couldn’t, not when you were constantly risking your life in the war, he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving him without telling you at least once what he used to think was just a “book thing”. He loved you, he was sure of that and you were sure too. The two of you didn’t need words, you had each other, it was a love that ran deep, in the unspoken words, in the heavy glances, in the time spent together. You were his safe space, and he was yours, before, during and after the war.
He knows where to find you, after arriving at Arlong you often hid in a studio Vaisra got for the two of you, his young strategists. He knocks lightly before sliding in - not that you expected anyone else, just to respect your privacy -, a cup filled with some hot beverage in his hand. “Thought you might need a break” He sets the cup on the busy desk, away from the paper, careful not to spill anything on your work. You sigh grateful, stretching on the chair and finally raising your head to look at him while getting to take a sip. “Thank you” You murmur, lips on the cup, relieved by some hot drink “How was the meet?” His gaze meets yours and you can see the same tired look. “A mess, as always” He shakes his head defeated “They just don’t wanna listen” You nod in acknowledgement, pulling the chair by your side, his chair, inviting him to sit next to you. He just smiles and takes the place next to you, his head drops on your shoulder, exhausted. You just rest your head on top of his, your hand finding his and squeezing it gently, a simple reminder— you’re not alone. You close your eyes, that should be enough for you now, you are alive and together, no matter what. “We’re getting out of this mess together, I swear.”
Yin Nezha - obsessive yet soft
Nezha’s love is dangerous, it’s something he's afraid of, too powerful and beautiful to be deserved by someone like himself. He never experienced true love, he received cold words from his father, his mother and siblings were no better. Nezha grew up knowing he was one of the heirs of the Yin family and, most of all, he knew the role he had in Arlong, he knew he was propriety of a God. So he hated you when you weren’t scared of him, you had to be, after all he was just a monster. His skills in combat were mesmerizing, he was beautiful, he was powerful and rich, yet you weren’t afraid of pointing out whenever he was wrong, nor of replying when he was badmouthing Rin or Altan, defending them even if nobody asked you to. You started to become an obsession to him, why didn’t you run away, why weren’t you showing reverence to him like most of your classmates, what was wrong with you? On the other side you couldn’t stand him, such a stuck-up and arrogant boy, so you were genuinely shocked when you found him near the lake you use for swimming lessons, crying. You just wanted to run away and leave him be, it wasn’t your concern after all, however… You stayed and he yelled at you, yet he never really asked to go away and something shifted. His eyes were on you more often than not, he started noticing small things you were used to do, and he remembered them, things you mentioned suddenly were yours, and you on the other side found yourself listening to him, seeking him out. Nezha was soft with you like he was with no one, he cared yet he was scared to lose you and he would have been damned if he let someone hurt you, he was like a dragon treasuring his most precious jewel.
“Do you ever realise that you’re dating a monster?” His gaze is fixed on the running water of a small river under Arlong. You just sigh, so this is the reason he’s up in the middle of the night. “You should have woken me up.” You tell him softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. This conversation feels like a deja-vu; it got worse, from when you arrived in his city it got more and more common for you to wake up alone, bed beside you empty, while he had sneaked out after a nightmare. He still doesn’t turn your way, so you crouch next to him trying to get him out of his own mind “You’re not a monster, Nezha” You feel him tense up “And I love you, no matter what” His head snap to you, eyes wide, terrified “You’re not lying, are you?” His voice trembles, and in his eyes you can see a child, scared from what happened to him, scared of his own power, of what he is. You just smile. “I never lie to you, I love you” You repeat, lips soft on his forehead, and he just hugs you, tight. It almost hurts, but you let it be, he would never hurt you, you’re everything he treasures, you’re the only one -not even himself- not to hate him for what he is, he swore to himself you’ll be the only one to see his weak side and he would never allow himself to let you go.
Fang Runin - fiercely yet free
Rin’s love is hard to get, but once she fell, she fell harder than you could ever imagine. She was not used to love and mostly she saw it as a weak point, especially after being betrayed multiple times. Tikany never felt like home, nor did Sinegard, where everybody was constantly judging her for her skin, for her accent, for being her. The first time you approach her at Sinegard she snapped at you, thinking you were there to laugh at her face just because she put up a fight with the Yin Nezha, the student most admired in your year, yet you just looked at her smirking, “good job” you said, hand on her shoulder, and so you became a team. You were there when she started to study with Jiang, you went with her at Khurdalain staying by her side when she couldn’t use the fire, you were by her side after she called the Phoenix, being her stable point when everything felt overwhelming. Loving Rin wasn’t easy, she was fire and rage, hard to control and to understand, but you loved this side of her. When she allowed herself to love, Rin was free, like she’s never been before: she felt safe with you, able to be herself, no pressure, no expectations, just a girl, not a Speerly, not a weapon, not a monster nor a goddess. She didn’t want to fall for you, yet it was inevitable, she realised late you were becoming important to her, and when she acknowledged that it was already too late to back up. When the Phoenix was screaming in her mind, she was terrified to hurt you, but you always smiled at her, you were here to stay, no matter what. Soon she noticed everything was clearer when you were around, stopping her burning rage came easier when your life was at risk. Her love was burning, yet only with you she was able to be truly free to fall.
“Are you back already?” Your head snaps up, looking at Rin that just entered the room. She just huffs, as she drops on her camp bed. You snort “You shouldn’t get on your bed all sweaty and dirty” Rin just rolls her eyes in disagreement, yet she awkwardly gets off the bed, sitting on the floor, her back leaning on the bed while she faces you. “My dirty skin is probably more clean than anything that touched these sheets in the last decade” She states, slumped on the floor. “Is he still being an absolute asshole?” You ask, sitting next to her, no need of stating who you are referring to. “He’s so annoying, I swear, I can’t stand him” And so she starts rumbling about everything; at first it was just her training but as she keeps talking she goes deeper. She saw Kesegi, she saw how her people were being treated and she felt so fed up. “I just feel like… like I wanna burn all of this to the ground, it’s so unfair, I need my fire back” She murmurs, you just nod. You know how hard it’s for Rin to be kept away from her goddess, you know how much she’s suffering, you know part of her that nobody else will ever see. “We’ll get it all back” And you are sure of that, because no matter what, you’ll always help her, even when everything seems lost. She is fire, unstoppable , beautiful, and you want her to burn freely, because after all, Rin deserves to be what she wanted to be, and you would have fought everyone to allow her to be free.
Chaghan Suren - silent yet eager
Chaghan’s love is not easy to understand, it goes behind the material world, it runs deep in his spirit. Chaghan was astonished when he realised he was in love with you, yet he was the only one surprised, the Cike had already figured that out and Qara, she had known for a long time, wondering why it was taking him so long to understand that it was love. First he thought he hated you, you were free, cheerful, alive, and he, he couldn’t understand how someone could feel so real. Chaghan was used to travel in the spirit’s world, in a limbo where reality was just a dream, he knew most of the rules behind the universe, yet you were still a mystery in his eyes: why were you so alive, why you drowned his eyes to you, why did he feel the need of getting to know you, why was he so mad when other people got most of your attention? Then it clicked. He was complaining to Qara about you laughing with Baji and Ramsa, when he stopped mid sentence, eyes wide, and she knew he realised. She just laughed, while Chaghan stood there shocked. From then on he became your shadow, the two of you continued to bicker yet it was more soft, he had a different light in his eyes, the edge in his voice softer, he asked hexagrams about you. You noticed this change but you never spoke about this, you were already a couple, he just noticed late how the two of you were made for each other.
“Have you stopped admiring Trengsin?” Ramsa teases him “How are you not jealous of him?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. Chaghan rolls his eyes “She has no reason to be jealous of Altan” He says annoyed. The table falls in silence, all eyes on Chaghan who is sitting next to you, while it takes him a bit to understand how wrong his sentence sounded. You have nothing to be jealous of because the two of you aren’t anything, yet he doesn’t correct himself. He feels the looks of everyone on himself, but he just shrugs his shoulders with an annoyed “what?” and so Ramsa bursts out in laughs, while Baji and Suni whistles winking and Qara just smiles sympathetically at her brother, knowing well what is going on. You just stare at him, a smile lingering on your lips, while his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing it lightly. Chaghan doesn’t say anything else and the conversation moves on quickly, but you stay hand in hand, his eyes sometimes linger on you for longer than they should when you laugh louder, when you make a terrible joke, when you agree at a dumb bet. Only when everyone is too tired and falls asleep on the table, only then, you allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder “So I don’t have to be jealous of Altan?” He just laughs “Oh I don’t know, we’ll see” He says, kissing your forehead softly. “Take a room you two lovebirds” You hear Qara says from the doorway, as she smiles at the two of you. Her brother just huffs, a smirk lingering on his lips, and you just laugh softly, getting closer to him, while he welcomes you in his arms. For everybody else the two of you are nothing, but between the two of you there is something deep, deeper than any meaning anyone could ever find between gods and spirits. Yes, Chaghan fell for you, and he did it hard.
Sring Venka - solid yet gentle
Venka’s love was hard, it was hard for her to acknowledge and to show it. She was stubborn and always carrying around an arrogant mood, it was hard falling for her. However, it was also the easiest thing to do once you get to know her under layers of aristocracy. At Sinegard she was cold, always around Nezha, unattainable, she was beautiful and ambitious, she had everything. You were with her in the second division, you saw what Venka had to go through and she hated you for that; every time you tried to speak to her or even be close, she acted like you had insulted her. Venka, on the other hand, just couldn’t stand that you knew everything about what happened to her, you saw her at her worst, when she was fighting for survival, not the perfect girl she was used to perform, and worst of all you were able to understand her. And that was terrifying. However you were a team, and as most of the times Kitay and Rin were working together, you and her were the other pair. At first it was impossible, but with time it worked, and it was working really well, in mutual acknowledgement, none of you bringing out the subject. Not until you woke up from a nightmare and Venka was there. You had a huge fight, and after that? The two of you were inseparable. Nobody ever knew what happened that night, you screamed at each other sure, but after that night you two were the couple. Love was a word both of you were afraid to use, yet you were sure of two things: getting what you have has been hard; whatever that was, it was feeling perfect.
The air is cold and the tents of the camp can do little to protect from the weather, especially after weeks of campaigning. “Still with that red stuff?” You ask Venka. She sits on a carpet made with some branches, holding a dirty fragment of mirror while applying a red tint on her lips. “What, jealous?” She snorts, eyes darting sharply towards you “You should try to take care of your appearance too” “It’s not going to make me survive this war” You huff absentmindedly yet suddenly you realise that something is off. Venka doesn’t answer coldly at your provocations like the two of you are used to, no, she just stares in front of her, gaze lost and you immediately understand her thoughts. It doesn't make you survive on the battlefield but it does make you survive. You kneel next to her, hand on her shoulder, the mood in the tent shifted. “You know” She starts “I think I have to keep my old antics, I wouldn't be me otherwise, would I?” And she smiles, turning her head to look at you in your eyes. Her smile is tired yet not completely false, she knows you understand what she’s thinking without the need to appear weak, she knows you’re well aware that she’s breaking yet you won’t force her to show her weaknesses, you always allow her to be comfortable however she likes to. “Yeah, I won’t probably recognise you” You answer, she just punches you slightly and the two of you start chuckling, sitting close to each other in the tent, and it is the calmest place you can be.
summary: apparently the golden boy of sinegard academy is weak for one thing: persistence. unfortunately for him, you’re more than adamant on making one (1) new friend.
pairing: third-year!altan trengsin x third-year!reader
content: gender neutral reader! / awkward altan / family dynamics / reader is very persuasive and persistent / altan is grumpy / fluff :) / somewhat quick pacing / 5.1k wc
Students at Sinegard Academy come from colorful lines of families. Most of them fighting for which father holds greater power over another's. Which student came from a powerful province, and which came from provinces too poor and ignored that others forget about it.
Thankfully, you don't have to bother comparing families because yours never came from a province. You never came from the all-prestigious entrance exam—Keju. Instead, your ticket to the academy was because of your family and Master Jiang's persistence.
Your family was one of the original families tasked with working as keepers and attendants of the revered academy.
As a child, you lived at one of the small houses near the gates of the academy. Helping your family out by watering the plants around the gardens, arranging minuscule things that need arranging. Essentially stewarding the academy during holidays and break.
When the age came to take the Keju, naturally you didn't get the highest score. Not with you being a resident of Sinegard anyways.
Despite that, one fortunate meeting with Jiang Ziya lead you to getting a shot in the academy. You were just watering the plants in his garden when he see you, eyes swelling and mouth grinning.
He had asked you one singular question then: are you smart?
You answered no with your whole chest. He let out the loudest laugh afterwards, telling you to wait until the start of the classes.
You don't know about the particulars on how Jiang managed to get the administration to let you study at Sinegard Academy despite failing almost every requisite there is. You think it's simply because Jiang wanted to piss off the administration, wanted to see how much bullshit he can pull before they kick him out.
Clearly you weren't enough bullshit because he's still there. Most of all, he's your master. You're his apprentice. Only one, too.
The terms that came with you entering Sinegard was that you still have to work as a steward over the campus grounds. You had to catch up, juggle, and advance your studies all the while maintaining your responsibilities as an attendant.
Fortunately you never had been around your classmates too much during your first year. That small factor helped greatly with you ignoring any unnecessary opinions from your peers.
Now, with the change of uniform from the traditonal Sinegardian student uniforms with your Lore armband to the old and cut-up uniforms of the campus attendants, students from your year barely recognize you as they line up every breakfast, lunch, and dinner for their food.
One of the things you found rather interesting, but at times heavily tiring, as an attendant were mess hall duties.
Having mess hall duties meant overhearing the occasional chatter during breakfast, lunch, and even the usually quiet dinner. It varied greatly with the crowd.
First-years usually race towards the mess hall, carrying with them an enthusiasm you'd never expect from someone training to be a pawn in the country's military. Only a quarter of them held at least a semblance of respect for attendants like you, the remainder din't really bother much with the custom.
Second-years usually dribble in countable groups. By then, the numbers of students have already been halved and so individuals either find a circle, or eat on their own. Regardless, you'd found that they stay for a maximum of fifteen minutes before the books of the library call their name.
Third-years, fourth-years—even fifth-years—are pretty much ancient texts. You mistake them for your fellow attendants or even mentors most of the time, with their taut and exhausted faces and deep dark circles under their eyes. They hardly cared though. They would mutter a simple thank you or a shallow bow before grabbing their steamed bun and leaving.
Today, the mess hall was pretty rowdy. The tables allotted for the first-years were buzzing with students sharing their plans for the upcoming lantern festival.
It was a three-day celebration. The administration suspended the classes on the last day of the week so students would have three days of rest. Many spoke about heading back to their province. Something about their parents sending carriages in advance so as to waste not much time.
"Do you plan on going back to your province too?" You suddenly ask the student in front of you. Having been debating about sprinkling in some social interaction into your otherwise monotonous and boring day-to-day job at the mess hall.
The student, tall, dark, and foreign-looking, looks at you with surprise. His sharp and thick brows shooting upwards. He looked fairly your age. Familiar too.
"I mean for the lantern festival. Are you going back home?"
He blinks at you. Lips pressed into a thin line.
Move the line! You hear someone say. Your eyebrows furrow, the line wasn't even that long! God forbid you talk to someone other than your fellow attendants. Still, you don't look away from the man in front of you.
He tries to open his mouth but no words follow. Only that awkward silence that makes you look even more like a loser.
"Sorry," you look away then, handing him the remaining food he should have gotten moments ago.
Just as confused, he nods. Turning away sharply, sitting at the farthest corner of the mess hall. You watch in sheer fascination as he sets his food down, back straight and strict, scooping the contents of his soup to his mouth in a fast pace. You'd only been watching him for a short moment before he's already heading out of the mess hall.
That's weird, you think. I think I prefer it if the person'd just cuss me out instead of making me look like a loser.
Huffing out a breath, you turn around and continue to serve the remaining students in line.
When the afternoon rush finishes, you eat your own lunch at one of the stone benches at the edge of the third tier. Sitting beside another mess hall attendant, a bowl of stew on your lap as you overlook the small group of students training at the lower-tiered courtyard.
"Are they second-years or first-years?" You ask. The distance way too far for you to make out the distinction.
"Second-years. They have an armband," your father's voice, deep and scratchy, answers. "The armbands look fairly new too."
You hum, watching them curiously. The synchronized movements of the class proving to be a way better form of amusement than you thought. You watch as they swing the wooden object in their hands, twirling it into the air before slicing it through. The distant hyah! from them contributing to the experience.
They seem to be doing a routine. Each movement perfectly curated to mimic something like a performance. Repeating continuously until mastery, you believe. You've watched them for the entire ten minutes, your bowl untouched, and they still haven't paused to take a break.
"Gods, I remembered hating that," you say ever so casually.
"Good thing you're not in combat. You're in that lousy class Lore," your father says in contrary. Raising an eyebrow as he glances at you.
You take a spoonful of stew. "Better than nothing. You'd be surprised with the amount of things I learn from Jiang," you say lightheartedly, letting your shoulders relax.
Your father clicks his tongue, tearing apart his bread and giving you half. You ask him, "Do we have any plans for the festival?"
"No," your father answers.
"Not even a proper supper? C'mon… we can stir up a few meals from the ingredients in the kitchen!"
"You don't even know how to cook. You'd just be giving your mother more work," your father responds back, that smooth look on his face as he closes his eyes, just in time for his daily meditation.
You don't think he should meditate immediately after eating but hey, you'd just get scolded if you say anything about it.
Keeping your eyes trained on the group, they finally get their rest just as you hear your name get yelled out.
"Bring this to Master Jiang. He forgot to come by for food," your mother says, handing you a wooden tray with a full bow of stew, three meat buns, and a cup of tea. You wonder how he would digest such a meal with a measly cup of liquid.
"Mother, I don't think he forgot…" you take the tray with both hands, already knowing that every food on it would just find its place in your stomach a few moments from now.
Your mother shakes her head, shooing you away as she takes your seat beside her husband, smacking the meditating man awake and scolding him.
You hike up the stone steps, up the spiraling staircase to Jiang's garden. "Master! Speak if you're here!" You sing-song as you go inside the gate, receiving nothing in response. Which, literally, answers your question perfectly.
Taking a seat at one of the benches, you dig in his food. You've known now, from the many times you were told to bring him food, that if he ever forgot to go to the mess hall for a meal, he didn't really forget. He simply chose not to. That's either because he has some better things to do like bother Jun, or look for people to pester down at the busy districts of Sinegard.
Anyway, that simply meant more food for you.
Who were you to deny yourself of such pleasure?
You were in the midst of eating your second meat bun when you feel a heavy presence by the tall sets of bushes to your right. Carefully, you turn your head just slightly. Ready to curse out your master in case it's one of his pranks.
It's not one of his pranks, though, because it's a man standing there and not that white-haired fool.
Wouldn't you know—it's the same tall man that ignored you earlier at the mess hall too! This time, a silver prong protruded from his back, peeking just slightly, glinting from the sunlight.
"You're being weird, you know that right?"
He maintains his silence. Simply quirking his head to the side as if he never heard you in the first place.
Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your tray. Dropping the meat bun on it, suddenly losing your appetite at such an introverted guest. You look back again, ready to call him out once more, only for him to disappear into thin air.
"This guy…" you sigh, shaking off the nerves. You decided on reading your textbook instead, one Jiang had personally stolen from the forbidden section of the main library.
"It's you!" Your words come out way more enthusiastically than you had intended. The finger you had mindlessly pointed at the man got a deep scowl in response. "You come here too?"
He closes the book with a loud thump. "It's a library."
"Technically it's the forbidden section. Technically forbidden means you're not allowed to go there," you say as-a-matter-of-factly.
"Well, you aren't allowed here either," the man retorts, lifting himself up from the floor only for you to stop him.
"Woah, woah, hey—I'm not going to rat you out, don't worry. You can keep reading, I don't really mind! I just came here to read too," you tell him, holding your hands out to prove you weren't a threat.
He snorts, "How perfect."
"Wow, rude."
His brow arches. The light from your lamp lighting the space just enough for you to notice the subtle movement.
You look towards his bicep. "Strategy?"
He doesn't look to yours. Instead he says, "Jiang took you in."
"Yeah, well, he didn't really have a choice. He wanted me here, he needs to take me in. Besides, I never liked Strategy or Combat," you blurt out, hoping he wouldn't notice the sudden word vomit.
"What do you mean?" Well that clearly piqued his interest.
You grin, "You're interested?"
His face tenses. Forehead creasing as his lips slip into a tight line. The exact same look he had when he stood in front of you at the mess hall.
"See, you're doing that again!"
"Doing what?"
"Being fucking weird," you say annoyedly, "First, you ignore me at the mess hall. Second, you hid and watched me eat at Jiang's garden earlier. Now you're here."
"I didn't ignore you," he counters, "and this is the library. It's a public place."
"So you're agreeing?" You cross your arms this time, mimicking his own stance. His face twists in confusion even more. "You're agreeing that you were watching me eat at Jiang's garden?"
A sound leaves him. Somewhere between a disbelieving scoff and a snort. "You're exactly like Jiang."
"No I'm not, I don't smoke during classes." He turns his head to you, movement so sharp you felt the whiplash. "Just kidding…?"
"Hm. You can have the library. I'm leaving," he grunts, walking past you.
"Already? You aren't even interested in why Jiang took me in Lore?" You ask, sounding a bit way too desperate for you like but you quite literally have no friends in your three whole years of studying at the academy.
You need one now.
He pauses, just a few steps from the door. He looks over his shoulder, eyes losing themselves in yours, "No." With that he leaves the room, closing the door shut behind him.
A scoff escapes you, "Douchebag."
You spent that evening reading up on the list of unconventional books Jiang had previously ordered you to. Truth be told it's been about two weeks since you last saw him. You have no idea on what the hell you're supposed to do now that you've finished reading and writing five-paper reflections on each book.
The next time you see that blunt fellow wasn't at the mess hall, it's at the mandatory triage classes Enro held.
"Wow, are we that close of friends that you're sitting beside me in classes now?" You say jokingly, grinning at the stone-faced man.
"I'll sit on the floor," he stands.
You pull at the sleeve of his tunic, "Just kidding! C'mon, sit down. At least I'd have someone to talk to while Enro's killing everyone silently."
"I'd rather get killed by Enro," you hear him murmur. He sits back down nonetheless, huffing out an annoyed breath as he crosses his arms.
"What's your name?" You ask him, offering a friendly smile.
He looks at you.
With a sigh, he answers, "Altan."
Happily, you give him your name in return. Quite content that at least now you and this Altan is on the second level of friendship among its many levels. He doesn't seem the least bit happy of getting a friend but hey, who knows, maybe he was just a tough nut to crack.
The first few minutes of class pass by excruciatingly boring. Something about the kinds of toxic substances everyone must know. You didn't really bother much with paying attention. You were seated at the back, and Enro hardly ever called on students. If she did, she usually called on the student beside you. Altan would answer her questions in a heartbeat, quick and correct, always precisely the answer Enro was looking for.
"How did you know that?" You had asked Altan after a particularly tricky question.
He shrugs, "I read."
"Was that what you were reading last night?"
He shrugs again. This time offering not even a word but a simple jerk of his shoulders.
"I'm really curious," you try again, leaning back on the wall behind you, "How come I don't really remember you during our first year… you're a third-year too, right?"
"Maybe you were too busy buddying up with the other first-years," he responds. It still lacks the enthusiasm, but at least it was more than five words.
"I didn't have any friends during my first year, if that's what you're thinking."
He turns his head to you, raising his eyebrows disbelievingly, "With how talkative you are, I doubt it."
A small smile comes on your lips.
"What are you smiling about now?" He sighs, rolling his eyes at you.
"Gods, it's nothing, Altan. Can't I smile anymore? Would've you preferred if I sobbed right here, right now?"
"Go ahead," he scoffs.
Unfortunately for him, you are a student of Jiang Ziya.
So you suddenly drop your head, letting a loud sob slip from your lips, crying Altan's name like he'd just broken your heart seconds ago. You could already feel the eyes on you, the way you feel an insistent nudge at your knee. You sob again, this time louder.
Now it's Enro asking the entire class what's wrong with you. Altan cutting in to say it's nothing.
"Cut it out," he says, close enough that you were the only one hearing it. "I said cut it out." He elbows your side, voice coming out stricter.
You lift your head, wiping off imaginary tears as you apologize to the class. "My apologies, Master Enro. It will not happen again," you say, ignoring the lingering whispers and the shameful look coming from Altan himself.
When Enro turns back to her lecture, you turn your head to Altan. A cheeky smile gracing your face, counteracting the death glare he was currently sporting.
This is going to be so much fun, you think.
When you see Altan at the library, in the forbidden section no less, he still makes an effort to get as far away from you. The only difference now is that he didn't fully leave the library.
To you that's good enough progress… especially since now you actually have a human being also reading with you, not just ghosts of whoever.
The more you pester him around, the more talkative he gets. Though most of his words are always laced with some kind of passiveness or sarcasm, sometimes he genuinely asks about you. Like how you got into Sinegard, how Jiang's actually lecturing you in your Lore classes, and now, where he's asking about how your family got into the job of stewarding the campus.
The two of you were somewhere by the third tier, overlooking the same group of combat students you overlooked before with your father. The tray of food Jiang failed to get sat between you and Altan.
"I think it was my great-great-grandfather from my mother's side, I'm not a hundred percent sure. When I ask about it to my family, they always tell me fate just decided best for them to be the keeper of the mountain. I think they're being dramatic," you explain, biting through the piece of bread.
"That's rude. You calling your family dramatic," Altan remarks.
You glare at him, "Altan, do not tell me what's rude. You're ruder than I am."
"Am not."
"You are. You ignored me that first time I talked to you in the mess hall," you point out. The resurfacing memory making you cringe internally. You probably looked so stupid then.
He thinks it over for a moment, the downward jerk of the sides of his lips tells you he remembers it exactly the way you say it.
Then, he says, "I don't really remember that."
"I asked you if you had any plans for the lantern festival," you replied, your memory popping up at the right time. "Actually, now that you're here, do you have any plans for the lantern festival?"
He blinks at you.
"No."
"Oh," his face stiffens for a moment, visibly caught off-guard. "Well if you want you can spend the holiday with us!"
There's a heaviness in the air from his side of the bench. You see the quiet debate within his own mind, pretty obvious now that you've found yourself always floating to his side whenever the situation allows, his mannerisms now docked permanently in your brain.
You wait patiently, keeping a small hopeful smile on your face.
Finally, he exhales a breath. "Has Jiang given you a new set of readings?"
Oh, you think, It's fine. I can ask him again next time.
"He did," you feign an exasperated sigh, reading towards the waistband of your pants and handing him the small piece of parchment where Jiang made you write the list. "I think I'm one more reading list away from finish every text there is in the forbidden section."
Altan snickers, taking the parchment from you as he looks through it thoughtfully.
The topic about the lantern festival doesn't come up the rest of that day, or any other day forward. You've tried dropping hints about it here and there hoping he'd catch onto it, he never did. Well even if he did, he never said anything about it.
Now it is that day of the break. The first day.
The entirety of the academy's grounds are dead silent. Barely any soul walking by as everyone else had already gone back to their home provinces yesterday, refusing to waste any rest time.
You on the other hand couldn't really leave the campus even if you wanted to. Your home was literally by the gate, the lone bungalow where you and your family retire to every break and end-of-classes.
The couch in your living room had definitely seen better days, with you lying on it since your eyes had opened. Not bothering to stand even if you felt the call of the bathroom. You barely have any time to actually rest, so you're taking this break as leisurely as you can.
Sinegard Academy's spot in the mountainside of Wudang Range was actually very airy. The cool winds seeping into the windows lulling you to sleep every time.
"Wake up!"
You peel open your eyes. The angry scowl of your mother comes into your immediate view. "What?" Right from there, you feel a harsh slap of a rolled-up newspaper on your shin.
Apparently, your mother's fury is all because of a singular head of cabbage your father forgot to carry with him when the two of them were walking through the market earlier that day. You couldn't even complain, the savory smell from the kitchen already has you standing up.
Before you leave, you sneak a spring roll in your mouth. The crispiness of the wrapper was downright mouth-watering.
You grab an oil lamp, hiking your way up the stone grounds of Sinegard Academy, wearing on your wrist the link holding the campus keys. You go into the gigantic cooking area of the mess hall. Pulling aside the curtain to the pantry as you look for cabbage.
While you rummage through, you overhear rummaging from a different part of the kitchen entirely. You discreetly take the cabbage from the crate. Peeking just slightly through the curtains, you spot a very, very familiar figure.
"Trengsin?"
The figure stiffens, broad shoulders lifting.
Slowly, his head turns to your direction. The way realization dawns on his face almost comically has you laughing loudly. His eyebrows were knitted in a way that so clearly expresses his distaste. The slight stretch on his lips, a scowl at you already.
"When you kept ignoring my invitation, I thought it'd be because you were going back to your province. Yet here you are stealing—" You glance down. He held bags of thickly sliced carrots, three eggs, and a piece of celery. "—do you own a pet bunny?" You can't help but ask, eyes still squinted as you eye the contents in his arms, not entirely sure on what the purpose for those things are.
"Do I own a pet bunny," he repeats your question.
Your features keep still.
He scoffs at you, back turning, making his way to the door.
Even more confused, you trail after him. Making sure to lock the back door of the mess hall as you leave. "Wow, someone's got a stick up their ass," you say loudly, walking beside him with your arms crossed. The cabbage in your hand poking out like a sore thumb. "Can't someone ask questions now?"
Altan glares at you, lips pursing into a thin line. "It's my food."
Oh, you think, Maybe he's making a salad?
"No, I'm not making a salad." The glare is quickly replaced by a knowing look. Almost as if to show that it wasn't just you beginning to remember things about him, but also him to you. Though it's clear he's still snippy with his tone, "I'm eating it as is."
"Don't you know how to cook?"
He answers, "No."
"Oh. Then where are you heading now?"
Another sigh, "Somewhere."
Somewhere? What the fuck is that? It's the break, isn't it? He shouldn't even have made it past the gate in the first place.
"Are you meeting… ah, well, someone?" you ask.
Now he shakes his head. Something in his eyes feels like he's keeping his guard up, as if you're next words would decide how your friendship with him should progress.
When your eyes light up right then, he feels something in him tense even more. "Perfect! Come to my home then! We're having a traditional dinner in honor of the festival." The genuine smile on your face disarms him. It always does. Altan wonders how he still hasn't built enough walls to resist it.
Still, his pride seems to make up for the lack of walls. "No. It's too far."
"Actually it's right here," you halt your steps, extending out the arm holding the oil lamp to reveal a stone door. Your parents' indistinct conversation floating outside the bungalow thanks to the open windows at the sides. You grin at him, "No excuses now huh, Trengsin?"
Whether or not Altan found your words and invitation amusing did not show in his face. He still had his features pulled to a taut, unreadable expression. You had zero clue as to what was going on in his mind, but you're more committed than anyone to not let him spend the break alone.
He's your closest friend after all. Though you're sure he'd cringe if you call him that.
"I can't," he murmurs, "I need to head back now."
"It's just one dinner, Altan," you tell him, though your voice held no bite now. It was careful, hopeful. "C'mon, just spend the dinner with us. Mother made way too much anyway. I think she predicted your presence so she made a lot," you laugh at the end, trying to pull out even so much as a subtle sound of amusement from him. Anything to tell you that he's actually considering it.
When he doesn't budge, glancing between the lights of your home seeping through the wooden door and the light-ridden stone path leading to the dorms, you feel your palms sweat. Altan's wordlessly rejected you so many times already, now, you worry, he'd finally verbally reject you.
Fortunately, fate seems to be on your side because someone comes out from your home. You hear that familiar creeeek, then your father's voice follows, calling out your name harshly, "You've been there all this time and you didn't even come in? Your mother's going to kill me if you don't get that damn cabbage to her now."
Your lips part, stuck in your spot facing Altan.
"Please?"
"You haven't had tangyuan before? Seriously? Have you even lived before?"
Altan stifles a choked up laugh at your father's dramatic tone, with his wrinkly eyes wide open, jaw hanging as if genuinely dumbfounded. "I… I just never had the chance to try them," it was probably your first time seeing him speak so politely, look so politely.
Your father shakes his head harshly, reaching to the center of the small wooden table and personally serving two balls of rice cakes onto his bowl. Pouring the extra sauce over the two cream-colored delicacies. He looks at you, eyes confused, begging for some help with your father.
You smirk, ignoring him and paying your full attention to your plate.
The food were just simple, basic, made by the same hands that cook food for the students every day and yet Altan finds it way more delicious. Heavenly, even. When that first spring roll crunched in his mouth, small flakes flying everywhere, the explosion of flavors coating his tastebuds, he genuinely felt his stomach expand.
He wonders if such a taste was because it was made without the budgetary restrictions of the administrators, or perhaps because of the occasion. A glance at you tells him it's neither.
It was the company that made it all the more delicious.
Your parents' inquire on the peculiarity of his daily living with the same amount of curiosity you once did. They gasp whenever Altan tells them he hasn't tasted much besides what the mess hall serves, they gasp even more when Altan answers a question about his personal life.
"So you don't find anybody cute in the academy? You don't receive any gifts during Valentine's day?"
Yes, his fight or flight instincts almost took him. Even still, he answered them as truthfully as he could, ignoring the way you eye at him with guarded interest.
"I do…" he says carefully, "…but I don't really pay it any mind. I throw it away."
"That's rude," you interject.
Finally, at your voice, his shoulder eases. "I didn't ask for it in the first place," he reasons out, teasing.
The two of you lock eyes. The corner of his lip slowly rising when he notices color rising on your cheeks. You looked away, suddenly finding the steamed bok choy interesting.
He takes notice of your mother's outstretched hand in his direction, taking the big bowl of lotus root and pork soup and handing it to her, all the while keeping his eyes on your profile.
And if that wasn't the most amusing part of the entire dinner, your father personally inviting him to accompany you at the lantern festival near Jade District definitely was. You complained then, telling your father you were fine by yourself. Your father, in response, ignored your complaints. Roping in your mother as well.
Altan may have laughed at the family bickering then, but the invitation lingers in his head even now where you walk him out of the bungalow.
"Ignore them. They're insane," you tell him, rubbing at your arms.
Knowingly, he draws his own oil lamp closer to you. Your shoulders easing just as his once did.
"Coming from you?" He huffs, eyebrows raising.
"Yes," you say sassily, "They're old people, Trengsin. You really shouldn't take their word seriously."
"Huh. I didn't think you'd be the type of person to take back an invitation."
It's your turn to huff. "Excuse me?" Your tone raises, head tilting to the side. "It was my father that invited you. I didn't."
He keeps silent, watching you step around in circles.
Your head perks up. He arches an eyebrow.
"You know, if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you'd actually wanna come to the festival." A thoughtful grin grows on your lips as you search through his unreadable expression. You gasp, "Wait, do you?"
As if the entire night wasn't already entirely out of his plans, he laughs at you. A real, unrestrained laugh. Boyish and free. Something you haven't heard. Another thing to add to the mental list you kept of every new thing you discover in him.
His voice drops to a whisper, broad shoulders you know all too well facing you, a hand lifting as if to tell you to head back home.
"Thank you for the dinner, idiot."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if you liked what you read, you could consider buying me a coffee :D
Yes sorry if it took too long I've actually tried uploading this 3 times already and it hasn't worked this is my 4th time writing it so let's hope it works
-gender neutral reader
-mentions of tobi
-spelling or Grammer mistakes may be present but I'm on my 4th upload and just want it over with at this point
(yes I'm using the divider I used for my Hugo posts but I'm pretty sure the divider was the thing causing the problem before so I think this should work)
1) altan doesn't get jealous alot he has confidence in himself and trust in you
2) that being said he might have some underlying insecurities from living in a colourist society
3) if he is jealous he goes quite watching you interact with the person his jealousy is aimed towards
4) makes passive aggressive comments later but Denys being jealous if you call him out
"getting all buddy buddy with tobi these days aren't you what am I no longer interesting enough to satisfy you" said altan not even looking at you he had been acting abit standoffish and hissy for a while now and you couldn't figure out why till now he was jealous. He was jealous of you talking to tobi. Wanting to tease him a little you reply back "why you jealous" "what no why would I be" he said back too fast too defensively "oh come on you don't gotta lie to me" you say coming up behind him putting your hand on his shoulder "shut up I'm not lying" he said you raise your eyebrows at him as if to ask "oh really?" "...ok maybe I'm a little jealous" he finally admitted wrapping his arm around your waist "but seriously don't talk to that guy you know I hate his guts"
summary: a sack full of sugar is what the spoils of war brought them after successfully intercepting a mugenese supply line. everyone else is focused on eating every last granule, meanwhile altan's stuck with just one thought: how and when could he put it on you?
pairing: altan trengsin x afab!reader
warning: 18+ MDNI / oral (f) / no use of y/n / inappropriate use of shamanic powers / pet names (angel, commander) / fingering / altan being a tease / fingering / dirty talk / inappropriate use of sugar / p slapping (like 1 i think) / spit / reader is the only daughter of tiger province warlord / he wakes you up / ‘keep quiet’
The mission ended victoriously. Members of the Cike now huddled around on the small bonfire lit up by their very commander.
Scattered chattering about the mission spread around the circle.
Baji talked about how fun and invigorating the carnage was, his wild eyes widening with enthusiasm all the while Suni, the receiving end of his words, winced silently. The psychedelics they'd eaten were already wearing out by that point and Suni didn't have the same enthusiasm for fighting as Baji had.
Qara was busy conversing with the bird perched on her shoulder. A soft, melancholic look on her face as she smoothed her hand down its nape, the bird ducking down familiarly every time.
The rest basically drifted around, Rin and Ramsa, specifically. Speaking about everything and anything.
It would have just been a quiet and peaceful little moment; them sitting beside each other, thankfully still complete as to the number they were when they began this mission. But then Baji had, unsurprisingly, brought forth crates upon crates of seasoning, of sugar.
Altan would have told them to leave it be, to keep it intact so they could bring it back to the town center and have it distributed evenly to every household, but they had just won. They had just finished intercepting the Mugenese supply lines. Their supplies now at the bottom of the Nariin Sea, a good number of casualties on the enemy's sides—the Cike had just slightly put off their plans to attack.
And Altan, for all of his talk of objectivity, knew that some degree of celebration is a must. Especially a reward. Considering that every member had done their part just as how he'd planned them to. So he slices open a sack of sugar, just a singular sack that was still considerably way too much for all of them, handing it to the nearest person—Suni.
Next thing he knows, the sack was being passed around already. A spoon dug into the surface so everyone could get their fair share of sugar.
It wasn't much, but the fact that they're at war and they're leisurely enjoying a sack of sugar, a literal luxury at wartime, was more than enough.
The first time the sack had reached Altan, he took a quaint spoonful. Not too much like Baji or Ramsa, but not too little as well. It was just enough for the sweetness to spread across his tastebuds, reminding him what it's like to have something sweet and tasty after eating tasteless militia rations all the time.
The second time it reached him, he had an epiphany.
Though not really, it seemed that the entire moment since he'd had his spoonful, all of his thoughts led him up to it. To you.
When he looked at his members, the bliss of sweetness settling on their faces, the thought of you in the same way filled his mind.
The bliss of sweetness.
You, under him, blissfully out of your mind as he licks the sweetness from and on you. Drunk on you and your taste.
Gods, the thoughts. The damned thoughts. He could feel his tunic tightening with each passing second he thinks of your face. Pretty eyes rolling back, angelic sounds slipping from your lips.
You're the only good thing in that twisted world of his. The only relief he gets from a lifetime of pain and misery. Your voice alone was already enough to pull him from his madness, from perdition.
He never admitted that to you. He never knows why.
"Trengsin, it's your turn!" Ramsa calls out, holding the sack of sugar with both hands.
Altan blinks once. With a sharp inhale, he stands up and adjusts his pants. Quite thankful that even though there's a fire in the center of the circle, he chose to sit somewhere close to the darker edge.
"You're not staying?" Baji asks.
Altan shakes his head, clenching his jaw. "Need to brief the Warlords. I'll be back in a few hours. You go on and celebrate. I'm very pleased with your performance today." He could already envision the look on Baji's face once he leaves and the shaman would mimic his voice.
Quite frankly, he couldn't care less.
Baji could mock him for all he wants. Hell, he could even call Altan an old man despite them being somewhere close in age. Altan never cared for any of it.
Even as the rest of the Cike descended into a comfortable circle, exchanging stories of whatever crosses their minds, thinking their commander was just heading to the Warlords' stations.
He wasn't. He's not taking the correct route to it.
Instead, he's taking the quickest, and shortest, route he knows to get to you.
All with a canister filled to the brim with sugar.
Tangling with a warlord's daughter meant Altan's efforts of getting to you would have to be doubled. After all, being the sole daughter of the Tiger Province warlord equated to the luxury of having guards stationed outside of your home.
Not the family estate, though, but your home. A small bungalow set not far from the actual family estate. A one-bedroom home that was spacious enough for all of your needs. Far enough from the front of the war and hidden enough that both your father and Altan didn't have to worry about your safety.
There were two sentinels outside of your door. A sword strapped behind their back. Gazes firm and stances unyielding.
They were specifically ordered to make sure no threat comes by your home. And if some did, then their utmost priority would be to get you out instead of fighting away those enemies. Any and all visitors are reported straight to your father.
It was still dark when Altan arrived near your house. He hid behind the tree line, narrowing his eyes as he watches the guards interchange positions. They were stationed rather peculiarly, standing at the corners so they'd each have enough visibility for two sides instead of one.
Patiently, he waited for the guards to switch places. A three-second slip Altan usually used to get into the window by your bedroom. The one you usually left ajar for times like these. He kept close to the opening, waiting. When the guards finally moved, Altan moved in swiftly.
This was routine already. Altan had done this numerous times. He knows what and how to do it, even if his hands were tied behind his back and a cloth was over his eyes.
He'd always know his way to you no matter the hindrance. As hopeless as it may sound to be.
"There you are," he whispers to no one in particular. Eyes casting over your sleeping form; limbs splayed out all messily over the thin blanket, a cream-colored hanfu barely tied.
He'd made sure to close the windows shut when he got in. Locking them in his own nifty way as well.
You looked so pretty then. Your relaxed features made you seem all the more angelic. Guarded by the four walls of your small home, guarded by two literal guards—experiencing all the luxuries in the midst of wartime.
Had you been any other woman, any other child of a warlord, Altan would have loathed you. He would have cursed your father and exposed his corruptions, have everything taken away from you and distribute them to the more vulnerable. After all, you were a warlord's daughter. You'd be prioritized over them in a heartbeat.
The problem is you weren't. Not since the day Altan arrived back at Khurdalain with Rin right behind him. The freshly recruited speerly all the way from Sinegard. Not since the day you gently handed him a cup of wine, the same kind you'd give to the other generals, treating him with just as much respect as you did the others.
He tried not to think much of it. Tried desperately to keep his emotions and libido in check. But how could he? He'd known restraint his whole life, yet you stand there in front of him and suddenly the word is nothing but a mixture of letters meant to make him suffer.
So alluring and beautiful, dressed in your clothing made from foreign materials; as if you standing equated to throwing every teaching he'd learn straight out of the window.
You'd been pure then. Such a good, dutiful daughter.
And he, a dutiful soldier that cares nothing but making sure his motherland is safe and protected. That if his empress wanted him to use his powers, to use his arsenal of shamans, for the sake of the empire, he'd do just that. Only that.
But he just had to feel your lips. He just had to know how your plump, well taken care of, lips felt against his, rough and coarse. He ached for such a feeling.
You indulged him in that regard. In fact, you'd been the one to pull him into one of the storage rooms of the barracks, placing your lips back on his after such a brief brush of mouths.
From then, Altan never knew restraint. Not when it came to you.
You're still pure now, despite everything. Though with everything you and Altan had done together, purity becomes a rather ambiguous concept.
"Wake up, angel," he whispers onto your skin, fabric pulled back as his warm breath left trails of goosebumps at its wake.
The fabric of your hanfu clung onto your skin from the sweat. Despite the cool winds of night, you still had every window closed off. Altan feels his mouth water every moment he watches it—watches you, breathing so calmly, chest heaving up and down as if spurring him on into a rather provocative game.
He softly tugged the clothing on your shoulder away, his hand now grazing your exposed shoulder, the very hand that spilled fire at his will, the very hand that tore apart both of your enemies, it was now reduced to a hand capable of feather-light gestures. Running up and down your skin, willing you to wake up. Invisible marks of his lips littered all across your arms, your exposed collarbone—the column of your neck.
It's taking everything in him not to sink his teeth in that spot he knows you love so much.
Slowly, you shift on your bed, probably feeling a sense of disturbance on your side. Your eyes flutter open, vision still blurry before it fixates on the figure beside you.
On the very figure of Altan, sitting so casually on the edge of your bed, one side of his lip perked up as if pleased that you finally responded to his call.
"You're back," you mumble drowsily, a half-minded smile coming onto your lips as you fix yourself on the bed. Leaning your whole body onto where Altan was, blinking the sleepy feeling away slowly. "I take it the mission went well?"
His mouth parts, and you thought he'd respond, but he merely pulls himself to your face and presses his lips to the side of your face. Close enough to your ear.
"I'd rather show you how it went," he whispers. His voice already igniting a fire in your insides. So smooth and velvety, oozing with desire. "You gonna let me, angel? Or should I just let you sleep? You do need some beauty sleep."
A faint chuckle leaves your lips. So faint that Altan almost couldn't hear it if not for his face being an inch away from yours.
Your soft hands cup his face, such small hands holding the entire empire's hope of winning the war. "Whatever you want, commander," The innocent grin on your face does wonders to him. The blood rushing into his lower region like no other. His pants tightening in a way it never had before.
He pulls away sharply. The cushion springing up as his weight disappeared. You readjusted yourself, swiftly tucking your hanfu to shield your body as you rest your back against the wall. Crossing your legs coyly, you watch him from the edge of the bed as he sets his things down; not much, really. Just a blade and a canister by your bedside.
Without a word, his arms grab onto your legs, pulling you to the end of the bed until your knees rested on top of his arms, lifted so easily on either side of him. Your hand was already slapped over your mouth the moment skins touched, way too aware of the ears that surrounded your home.
"I'll show you how it went," his words held the weight of a promise now. Voice low and predatory, as if he'd calculated the exact decibel he could speak in and not get caught. The exact volume so you could still hear his words, dirty and sweet all the same.
A thing to note about Altan, he doesn't just get it over right away. He used to do that, back when he'd first learn how to do such an act, but now he found the pleasure had always been in prolonging it, the release. Never in rushing for it.
So as his lips trail along the skin of your legs, he's pulling back the fabric of your hanfu little by little. Exposing your skin to him slowly so he could make sure he's laying his kisses on every part of your legs. Your ankles, shins, knees, thighs—inner thighs.
He was getting closer and closer to where you needed him the most. You could feel the neediness bubbling in you, dripping out of your very cunt like a weeping widow.
"Altan," you breathe out desperately, feeling his teeth bite softly at your inner thighs. You feel a mumble at your muscle. A muffled patience leaving his lips as he continued on.
He grew bolder and bolder. Wet kisses turned into bites, bites requested kitten licks, and kitten licks resulted into his tongue lying flat out, dragging the wet muscle over your inner thighs as if he was licking the tastiest of ice cones.
Your cunt clenches uncontrollably. The build up was way too much for someone that had just woken up. Barely woken up, really.
You needed him so badly. You needed him now.
Your hands tangle themselves in his unruly hair, grabbing at the roots as you desperately tried to pull him up into your cunt. When that didn't work and his hands locked around your thighs, still continuing his relentless tasting, you decided to move yourself. Jerking your hips, trying to lower yourself so his mouth could be right where you want it.
It wasn't until you feel a harsh bite on your skin, all teeth and saliva, that you stop your ministrations and fall defeatedly onto the cushion.
"I told you, I'm showing you how it was," he spoke pointedly. The firmness in his voice making your insides clench.
Then, he licks another strip, the closest strip he'd licked. You're sure he could smell you from where he was, from where he nuzzled.
"We waited… and waited…" You could feel your heart beat at your throat. His breath was already hitting your naked cunt. Torturing you. "…and waited."
You feel him move, the air at the apex of your legs growing warmer. Every hope in your body wishing for him to just seal it. When you thought he would, he falls just short of a few centimeters.
You swear you could buck your hips and feel him, but his arm was snaked around your lower region, expertly so that he had rendered you immovable from your hips down.
Just as a whine threatens to spill, it's replaced with a soundless gasp as you finally, finally feel his lips over your cunt. Brutally ravaging your folds as if a man starved, licking at your walls with much fervor.
He slurps your wetness lewdly, letting the sound bounce around the four walls all the while you squirmed around uncontrollably. Muffling your own moans with your cushion. The way his warm tongue alternated from quick and sharp licks to slow and languid ones, the type where his tongue his flat on your slit, lapping up every ounce of juice your generous pussy was giving him, had your mind dizzying from the pleasure.
His nails dig into your thighs, definitely leaving marks as he keeps you pressed onto his face. His nose nudging at your clit with each upward lick. Your clit pulses, desperately begging more of his loving attention just as you were.
Before your pleas could even continue, he pulls away with a pop! Your wetness shining on his skin despite the lack of light. "—and then we won," he continues his previous words rather lackadaisical. An equally lazy, but still hungry, grin growing on his lips.
Your eyes roll back with a groan, tugging at his roots. "Trengsin, I'm dying here."
Altan looks to you with mischief dancing in his crimson eyes. Such a loud color, even amidst the dark. He pauses for a moment, nuzzling his cheek with the skin of your thigh. Like a cat, really, purring quietly.
The moment passes excruciatingly slow, as if he really was pondering over something important. You lift your head wondering what the problem was, only to let it fall back down with a broken groan. He'd caught you off-guard, again. However this time, he did that as he plunged his tongue into your hole.
Your hand slaps over your mouth again. Whimpers spilling out in contained sounds, desperately trying to keep them in your throat but he was thrusting his tongue in and out of you so roughly that the lewd squelches could be heard. His deep breaths against your pussy, the sound of liquid sloshing around—your liquids.
He explored every crevice he could find, massaging your pussy walls as if he'd been tasked to do it. His groans muffled against your cunt, sending vibrations that has you clenching tightly around his tongue, vision starting to blur white.
"O-oh! Oh my… nghh, Altan—fuck, don't stop," his name left your lips in breathy pleas. Your head spinning around in circles. The knot in your stomach tightens with each passing second, and when the rough surface of his thumb finds your clit, ruthlessly pressing on it, your legs lock around his head.
Altan mumbles, the sound barely comprehensible, "You t—mngh, so good," a long groan shakes your entire core. The hushed moans leaving your lips now started getting louder, you press the cushion harder on your face.
You wondered how the hell Altan even knew how to eat pussy in such a ravenous way. How he ever got the experience to know exactly what to do to drive a simple woman like you insane. How he knew the exact spot to abuse to make sure your legs writhe and tense.
But then you couldn't really blame him.
Give a man without knowledge of food a plate full of sustenance and he will devour it better than a man with knowledge.
"I'm close," you feel your body twist. Your back bowing off the bed, the silk cloth of your hanfu falling to your sides as the air hits your bare chest, nipples slowly hardening into peaks. "Fuck, Altan, I'm close," you say again, more rushed now, hoping for a sign to finally release.
Altan's thumb presses down on your clit and you swear you could see stars, you swear you could see them forming in your vision right before they were brutally ripped away from you.
A harsh slap lands on the wet, shiny surface of your cunt, followed by a big gobble of spit that dripped from Altan's mouth. His hand coming back to your slit to rub his spit all over your walls, as if it wasn't wet already. You squirm, hips bucking weakly.
He seemed way too calm for the situation. You were basically suffocating yourself with your own cushion. So fucking desperate to tip yourself over the edge and release all over that face of his.
You feel him move up the bed, just until the cushion is lifted off of your head and his pretty face invades your vision.
Before you can even hiss at him for cutting you short of an orgasm, his lips crash onto yours. Infiltrating your mouth as ruthlessly as he did your cunt. You could taste hints of your wetness on his tongue, though you tried hopelessly to match his enthusiasm. He was just so rough, so eager, so fucking impatient.
He pulls away from your lips, moving downwards to your neck. He wastes no time biting down on that spot on the left column of your neck, groaning pleasantly at the wanton moan that escapes your mouth.
"Wanna try somethin'," he mumbles on your skin, licking at the part he'd bite. "Let me do it, please."
You huff, arching your body against his, arms resting on his nape. "Fine. But I'll actually kill you if you leave me on the edge again."
He smirks then, pressing a soft kiss at the center of the valley of your breasts before leaning to the side. He grabs the canister with one hand, pulling apart your hanfu and untying your inner garment with the other.
"What's that?" You asks curiously.
"Just a little treat we got from the mugenese supply ships," Altan whispers. His legs bracketed your body, holding himself up by his thighs.
He twists the canister open, once more pulling away your hanfu, making sure his canvas was perfectly bare for him. Then, he begins pouring out the contents of the canister. He starts by your collarbone, pouring a decent amount of sugar on both sides. You stay still, both out of fascination and desperation. Eager to see how this'll end.
Altan puts the next strip on the middle of your throat, pressing his tongue flat out on your skin first to make sure the sugar sticks.
He moves south, eyes focused, lips shut and pursed. Sugar drops on both of your breasts, basically covering your entire areola with the white granules. You notice him gulp as he finishes doing so, wetting his own lips.
"What're you even doing?" You stifle a laugh, touching the side of Altan's face. He looks up at you, lust-blown eyes making you swallow down. "Just celebrating the win," he responds calmly. "Absolutely nothing to worry your pretty brain about, angel."
You hum, relaxing your shoulders. "Whatever you say, Trengsin."
He bites your lower stomach making you jolt. You glare at him, hissing a hey at him. "Commander," he reminds.
The last trail—for now—of sugar is from underneath your breasts to just a few inches past your navel. When he finishes that, he pulls away to look at his masterpiece. Hungry, ravenous eyes raking over your body just like an eagle. "Fuck," he says, one hand comes over his crotch and squeezes.
He needed to taste you now.
So he began. Licking away all of the sugar he'd left on your body with his tongue. Boldly sucking and nipping at every inch of skin that was covered in sugar. His eyes screws shut, savoring the sweetness that exploded with each granule that entered his mouth.
Now, he understood why his members looked so content earlier. Why they looked so gratified at such a simple product. He too would be if presented with something as sweet as this, as you.
He cleaned your naked body off of the sugar. Putting extra attention on each of your breasts. His tongue swirled around the peak, sucking then biting. Your hands find solace in his hair, arching your back to present your breasts even more.
"So sweet," he comments, letting go one of clean mound. He moves onto the other. "I wonder how much sweeter your cunt'll taste once I'm done with you."
His words hit straight down to your core, clenching on nothing but air.
You whine, desperate to feel more of him on you but he simple holds the sides of your body down. Putting one clothed knee in between your legs, keeping it pressed against your heat as if to appease you for the time being.
When the first batch of lines are cleaned, he finally moves down. His body pressed against the foot of the bed, your legs pulled up and spread apart to make space for him.
Oh how he wished the sun was up right now. Maybe then he could've gotten a better look at your pussy. A clearer view on how much wetness is gushing out of your hole, simply begging for his attention.
He'd spread apart your pussy lips, show himself everything within your walls. Torture himself with the memory of such a beautiful pussy, one he'd promised to have all to himself day and night someday.
Fortunately, he remembered his fire.
Fortunately, he remembered how easy it was to conjure a flame.
With a snap of his finger, a small flame lit up his index finger. The light illuminating just the small circle that was Altan's head and your cunt.
You swear you saw nothing but lust in his eyes.
Hurriedly, Altan grabs the canister and dumps its contents over your pussy. He starts at the top, then your slit, handling your hips so it was tilted at an angle that didn't just let the sugar slide off. He pours more, and more, giving himself a much deserved generosity.
We won that fight. I deserve this.
Eyes round with fascination, Altan draws the finger closer to your cunt. Close enough that you could feel your body tense up, the heat prickling at your sensitive skin. But then he's tutting you softly, craning his head to the side to give your pelvis a kiss.
"I got you, angel. Don't worry, I won't burn you," he coos right before something manic flashes against his crimsons. "Not too much." To make an example, he draws it closer, the warmth from his finger making you squirm, hips threatening to draw back.
"Altan," you hiss. Somewhat disbelieved at how you thought that was hot.
He chuckles, pulling his hand away and putting out the fire. "Fine, fine. Next time."
Gods, you thought. This man will drive me insane.
Altan dives in without any more preambles. Digging into your pussy with a renewed enthusiasm, way more than he did the first time.
His tongue swiped at your pussy and at the rows of sugar he'd poured over you. Contented mumbles against your lips, lewder sounds than before. "Fuck. You're the sweetest," he says, feeling some of the sugar stuck to the wetness around his mouth and over his chin. "Could eat this fucking cunt all day."
You bit your lips, hand stretching out to find your cushion.
This felt so good. So fucking good that you already feel that pressure building up in your core, threatening to break with just a few more of—
"Hey!" Your body shoots up. Hands landing on the crown of Altan's head as he suddenly plunges a finger in you. Not just a normal finger, a heated finger. A finger that was definitely not at a normal temperature.
"Told you 'm trying somethin'," he pulls away, licking his lips. He puts in another heated finger, enjoying the way your walls clench around him. He curls them upwards, hitting all the spots on your gummy walls. "Just enjoy it, angel. Feel the heat." His tongue wraps around your clit. The cruel gesture making you whimper loudly.
"Quiet," his eyes narrow.
"I… I would be if you weren't—Oh fuck…" the rebuttal dies on your tongue as Altan quickens his pace. The sound of his fingers thrusting in and out so ruthlessly in your pussy spurring you on even more. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Altan, don't stop. I'm, ah—ngh, fuck, it's so good."
The warm sensation of his fingers inside of your walls has you trembling. Your upper body flailing in all directions while your left hand desperately tried to muffle your sounds.
Altan pulls away from your clit, panting, "Yeah? Feel good, angel? You sure taste good, sweetest thing I've ever tasted." He leans in and puckers up with your lips, letting his spit messily spread around your slit. "The only thing I want. Ever. Could eat this every-fucking-day."
You could taste iron from your lip with how hard you're biting it. Altan's words were driving you just as crazy as his fingers. Matter of fact, the heat from his fingers felt heavenly. A new kind of heavenly in a way that you swear you could feel yourself floating off the bed with how good it felt.
"Fuck!" You yelp, the third finger sending you over the edge as you shake under him. Legs moving uncontrollably, "Ohmygodohmygod I'm—you're, fuck, don't stop, please," you plead, throwing caution out of the window as you let your moans be heard by him. Your hips move with a mind of their own, fucking yourself on his fingers like a whore. All the while he watched you under hooded eyes, mouth parted.
He lets you ride it out on your own, keeping his fingers curled so they hit that spot each time you moved your hip. When your body calms down, he presses another kiss, softer this time, on top of your clit before pulling his fingers out.
Altan moves back up, a gentle hand snaking underneath your head to hold you. With your eyes locked, he brings the three fingers to his lips and sucks it clean.
Your pupils dilate. Mouth hanging agape.
Fuck.
His hand comes back down and in between your legs, running the same three fingers through your slit, gathering your own wetness before he presents them to you. Way too captivated by the look in his eyes, your mouth parts without any instruction. He thrusts them in gently, letting you taste yourself on his fingers.
"Sweet, huh," he grins, ghosting his lips on your cheek. Watching you intently as you shamelessly roll your muscle all over his fingers. "Mmm—think I'll go for seconds."
hearts, comments, & reblogs are very very appreciated! xoxo
currently thinking abt: teaching altan how to eat you out (18+)
"Are you sure about this?" You ask, still somewhat worried your boyfriend was just letting your classmates' words get to him.
Altan had overheard his own peers talking about your relationship with him in the communal showers. Something about Do you think Trengsin even knows how to eat somebody out? and Of course not, I'm sad for his girlfriend. You were sure they talked about something way more than that but Altan rather'd not tell you. He still had some pride, of course.
"Yes." Your boyfriend says, quicker than light even.
His cheeks held that flustered red hue on the surface, something you only saw on very specific occasions. Chest heaving. He's been waiting for you the entire week, waiting until it's the weekends to sit you down about it.
He nestles himself in between your legs, calloused hands eagerly trailing at the side of your thighs. He flicks his eyes up, staring into your awaiting ones. Lips laying down soft kisses over your skin.
"I haven't had any… experiences before," Altan begins, diverting his gaze, "but I can learn. I'm a fast learner. An exceptional one, I promise."
You drop your hand to the side of his face, cradling it with a softness he could never get used to. Before you could speak, he beats you to it, tone slightly embarrassed, "I can't promise it'll feel good immediately though. You gotta give me some time, baby."
A soft breath escapes you, chest shaking, "Don't do that," you tell him.
"Do what?"
"Be in between my legs and call me baby." It's your turn to look away, lips slipping in between your teeth as you try to close your legs, though the big blockage that is Altan Trengsin keeps them wide open.
He chuckles. You could feel his breath at your core, through your thick cotton panties, your breath hitching at the thought of his lips on your heat. Your pants were pulled off some time before already, so all he can see now is just one last tiny obstruction before the real thing.
Altan pulls your legs up, bracing you to him in all of your glory. This time, it's him that gets his breath caught. Eyes roving over your clothed center. He licks his lips, instinctively placing a pair of kisses on either side of your inner thighs making you clench on absolutely nothing.
"What do I do first? Tell me." He looks up at you, eyes rounding uncharacteristically so.
"Do what you think is right first," you tell him, voice soft and guiding.
He gives you a smile, nodding his head.
You fully expected him to take off your panties immediately. Hook his fingers at the sides and pull them off without any grand movements, just the mundane way of starting things off.
But this is Altan Trengsin in between your legs now.
Sinegard Academy's golden boy. The student that had every master wanting him to pledge to them. The student who raised every master's expectation on their students.
If he lives to surpass expectations and come out at the very top, you bet that applies to you as well.
So when he suddenly nuzzles his nose into your clothed core, eyes closed, inhaling such a deep breath, exhaling that same breath on the surface of your panties, you were unable to stop your legs from twitching pathetically.
His grip on your thighs tighten. Letting his lips run through your slit, your slick seeping through the fabric. He lets his lips latch onto the fabric, putting out the tip of his tongue to trace the line of your slit, soiling the fabric even more.
Your hands drop to his hair. Altan takes that as a sign to pull away and look at you. His crimson eyes were wide and round, pupils blown out.
"What do I do next?" He asks, voice painfully gruff.
You hoist yourself up on your elbows, chest heaving, lips parted and wet. "Take off my panties. Now. Please."
Like a soldier, he nods. Fingers hooking at the side of your panties, carefully pulling them down your thighs. You help him out by holding your own legs close to your chest, making it easier for him to slip them off your feet.
When he gets the fully off, curious eyes look at the drenched center of your panties. He blinks. Once, twice, before he brings it to his face. Inhaling in your scent in such a deprived way that you feel yourself grow hotter, wetter.
Fuck, you think, He's insane.
He pulls it off his face, "Do I get to keep this?"
"No, obviously. My panties are just enough for a week," you tell him, shaking your head side to side.
"Just don't wear one when we're together then," he gives you a cheeky grin, winking at you. The confidence he'd been missing earlier now making an appearance.
The thought literally has you blushing furiously. Hand coming over your mouth to hide the downright erotic split of your lips, the way your tongue just slips out to lick the dry muscle.
Altan takes your lack of verbal response as a win for him. Positioning his body back down, he keeps his eyes strictly on yours, not letting himself take in the sight of your core. Delaying his own gratification, if you will.
Your eyebrows curl upward, lips frowning, contradicting the downright hungry look on his face.
"What do I do now?" He asks you, again.
He looks hungry but he looks confused at the same time. You can never really tell him.
You swallow your saliva. "Look at me."
"I'm looking at you."
An irritated look comes on your face. One that has Altan chuckling boyishly to himself.
"Look at me, Altan," you try again, wiggling your legs for emphasis.
"I told you, I already am," he answers all the same.
Annoyed, you push your legs apart, revealing yourself for him, "I said look at my cunt."
His eyes darken, jaw tightening as he now tilts his head downwards. The sight before him has his head spinning with delirium.
You're wet. No, not just wet—you were fucking dripping, drenching the thin sheets of his cot, glistening so beautifully for him. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, anything he'd ever dreamed of.
“What do I do now?” He breathes, mouth apart and ready, voice impatient. He kept his eyes locked on your core, unable to look away.
You don’t answer. Instead, you drop your hand, letting two of your fingers slip through your slit. The pads of your fingers rubbing at the small bundle of nerves, small continuous circles.
“Do you see how wet I am?” You ask, arching your back, letting your tunic bunch near your chest.
Altan nods stiffly. His body moves down even lower until he’s face to face with your cunt. Barely a hair’s width away.
“You’re dripping,” he observes. “Do you feel this way for me?” He looks up at you, memorizing the way your features twitched with each circle of your fingers.
“Yes—for you, all of it,” the heady feeling stirs in your head. Running out of breath as you move your free hand to grab at his hair softly.
“Put your mouth on me. Lick me,” you instruct.
Altan’s control collapses then. He doesn’t just lick you, no, he swallows you whole. Capturing your entire cunt in his mouth, slithering his tongue in between your pussy lips until he reaches your fingers at the top. Then he moves back down, messy, continuous vertical motions that has your gripping his hair tighter. The suppressed squeaks escaping your mouth only fueling him even more.
He’s messy. He’s impatient. He’s running his tongue all over your cunt, tasting any and all you were willing to give him. Loud slurps fill the air, drinking your wetness with the greed of ten men.
He looks at you, watching with such sharp eyes. Testing every surface, trying to find which spot has your lips falling apart weakly.
His eyes shift down to the spot you kept circling, that small pocket at the top of your pussy. He nudges your fingers away with his face, about to explore the area with the tip of his tongue when you press a palm flat onto his forehead.
“Don’t rush it, Altan,” you remind him, relaxing yourself onto your elbows. “We don’t have to rush. You don’t have to prove anything. I feel good… you’re making me feel good.”
A moan from him vibrates against your core, the intensity making your head fall back.
“Teach me more,” he says, pulling away with a glinting sheen over his chin. “I want to please you more.”
Altan Trengsin //Speer, Les souvenirs d'une patrie perdue//
a.n. I wrote mainly for myself because I needed comfort for Altan. I came up with this idea and I cried while writing it realising it could never be canon for obvious reasons, however this is my guilty pleasure and it's extreme fluff, deal with it
genre: fluff (Altan Trengsin x reader)
words: 1.8k
cw: AU! the massacre of Speer and the poppy wars never happened (yes I needed comfort don't come at me), Altan is down bad for the reader, Rin and Hanelai are amazing, probably ooc but idc, overthinking reader, use of y/n once (I hate it but oh well)
!!! : english is not my first language so yeah, feel free to give advice and sorry for my mistakes <3
---
As the ship was approaching the island, your heart started beating faster against your rib cage. Leaning against the ship’s railing, mind lost looking at the waves shattering and hearing the sea roaring under the rising sun, you were taken aback when strong arms hugged you from behind.
“What’s on your mind? I could hear you thinking from my cabin” Altan’s voice muffled, his lips on your head giving a soft kiss as he took in a deep breath. His body was warm against your back and it felt like you could live forever like that, held in his arms, lulled by the sea.
“Are you happy to go back home?” You asked barely more than a whisper, eyes fixed in front of you, he wouldn’t have heard you over the waves if he hadn’t been so close to you. He said nothing at first, his hands on your waist soothing your tense body, you hadn’t realised you were so anxious until now.
“Do you—” His voice unsure “Do you wish to go back?” You turn to him shocked. Never could you deny him from going back home, not when you knew how much he missed it, how hard it was for him spending five years at Sinegard away from his homeland.
“I could never” You assured him, turning slightly to face him “Just, what if they won’t like me?” His features softened, a warm smile appearing on his lips, while one hand went to rest on your cheek.
“They will love you for sure, no need to worry.” It wasn’t much, but Altan didn’t give you time to worry further, shutting all your thoughts with a soft kiss. As your body melted into his you could feel his smile on your lips, and you smiled back.
It would have been just fine.
It wasn’t going to be fine.
You felt nauseous, your stomach closed, guts tight. Altan got off first, a smile brighter than ever on his face, eyes shining, and he turned to you offering his hand to help you getting off the ship. You needed that, you really needed him to keep you steady because your legs felt so numb they appeared ready to give in at any moment.
The warm sand under your feet felt grounding, Altan’s hand in yours, as he looked at you to check one last time if you were sure, giving you a chance to back off. You were scared, sure, yet you couldn’t back out now, it wasn’t a choice, so you just nodded and how his face lit up from excitement, was enough to know it was the right choice.
You and Altan met at Sinegard military academy, both Irjah’s pupils, however he followed lore classes with Jiang, while you continued strategy. However your bond only grew tighter: late nights spent together, studying afternoons in the library, festivity too short for him to go back to Speer so he just stayed with you. And now he was going back home to officially introduce you to his family.
You heard stories, he used to talk a lot about his homeland when he missed them the most, late at night, eyes fixed on the Phoenix constellation. They sounded fine, really, you were just terrified they might not have liked you; Altan was their pride, a real golden boy, and you could see why, yet you were you, and it was good, you were a top student, smart and fast at learning, you aced every test in school, yet it was hard if you were going to be compared to him, what if they thought you weren’t enough for him?
Your head was spinning as he led you through roads immersed in nature, flourishing vegetation surrounding you, shades of bright green never seen before and flowers of different colours. Then he stopped, his broad shoulders in front of you, shielding you from the view in front of him.
“We arrived” Altan told you, a fast glance at you and before you could answer, you heard a loud scream as a young girl jumped in his arms, hugging him tight.
“You're finally back Altan! It was so boring without you here!” The young girl should have been just a few years younger than him, her features resembling his. Altan laughed, a laughter coming straight from the bottom of his heart, reciprocating the hug.
“Rin, I hope you haven’t bothered aunt Hanelai too much” He chuckled, eyes shining. He was finally home.
“She doesn’t know the meaning of the word calm” A firm voice stated, you turn your head just to see a woman looking like the older version of the girl in Altan’s arms, her eyes filled with softness, despite the strength given from her presence alone. She was terrifying in the best way, a powerful woman, her face sharp and stern manners, yet from her gaze you saw a deep love for his family.
“Hanelai, it’s great to see you again” It was your first time seeing Altan so much Altan. He wasn’t a soldier, nor a student, he was just a boy surrounded by his family, and it was really heart warming. Suddenly his eyes went wide open.
“Mom, dad!” He let go of the girl, Rin, who huffed upset, running towards two other people. The couple waited for him with wide arms, glossy eyes, as they held their son again. Your eyes were fixed on Altan, clouded from tears, and he never looked alive like he was in that moment, a soft smile placed on your lips seeing the person you loved so much being so happy.
Other people started gathering around Altan, greeting him, bright smiles on their faces, patting his shoulders, while you just stood where he left you, hidden by some plants, watching gratefully from aside, knowing you would have felt too much in this moment.
You were so focused on Altan, that you didn’t notice a pair of eyes looking keenly at you.
“Are you not going to introduce your guest to us? It’s a bit rude of you, Altan” Hanelai's voice mocking him, her gaze burning through you, a smirk on her lips.
You froze. Altan turned in your direction and suddenly understood your restlessness, he immediately came to you, taking your hand in his, a warm look in his eyes before he turned to his aunt, smiling.
“Seemed like I lost my manners, I want to introduce you to y/n” His head snapping in your direction, eyes fixed in yours “My girlfriend.”
The silence was loud, you had no strength to look at the reactions happening around you, grounding yourself in his gaze, confident and soft.
“So someone finally took you” You heard Rin exclaim “Oh girl, are you sure?” She laughed as Altan turned to her trying to slap her jokingly, running to catch her. You laughed, tension dissipated a bit as you watched him playing with Rin and heard people around you chuckling in agreement to Rin’s words.
“You’re welcome in our family, darling” Hanelai approached you, a motherly look in her eyes, a hand resting on your shoulder “I’ve never seen someone look at our boy with such love and selflessness, nor I’ve seen Altan being so soft and loving with anybody else.” You were grateful for such kind words, blush creeping on your neck now that you were at the centre of their attention, yet all the anxiety was long gone.
You were introduced to a vast group of people, from his close family to acquaintances curious to see who was the girl who managed to win Altan’s heart. And it was good, really. With Hanelai taking you under her wing, daring anyone to even glance bad at you, and Altan staying by your side all of the time, his warm presence comforting you, you felt safe, they made it feel like home for you too.
That night they all celebrated the return of their boy, on the white beach you never felt so free. People dancing and singing, children running and playing on the seashore, adults chatting and joking, it was a form of freedom you never get to experience in the strict cities of Nikan, and you allowed yourself to relax and enjoy the moment.
Rin led you in a group of young girls and women, dancing around a bonfire and asking you gossip from your relationship; How did you fall in love with someone so stubborn and annoying? Was he snooty at school? Was he good in bed?
You laughed hard, nearly choking on your own spit, cheeks red from embarrassment, as Rin stepped in to help you.
“Enough, I don’t really wanna know these kinds of details about my cousin.” You glanced at her thankful, and she just winked back, a knowing smirk on her lips. In the background, sitting on the sand looking at you, you locked your eyes with Altan who appeared to be talking to Hanelai.
“Go to him” Rin nudged at your side, the other girls chuckling in approval. You thanked her again and then approached him. When you were close enough Hanelai smiled at you nodding “I’ll leave the two of you alone, lovebirds” She teased, before heading back.
You were left speechless for a second, but then you only chuckled and shook your head, you already liked how straightforward they were in this family. You took a seat next to Altan, his eyes fixed on you, an intense gaze you never witnessed before.
“You are beautiful” He just murmured, taking you by surprise.
“Thanks, you're quite good yourself” You replied, eyes scanning his beautiful features and sliding down on his bare torso.
“I mean it” His hand went under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. “I never thought I could love you more, and here I am; I can’t stop to think about how beautiful you are when you laugh with my family like you were meant to, your smile bright, and I can only imagine about how I want to be yours forever”
You looked at him, heart blowing up in your chest, and you did the only reasonable thing you could think of. You kissed him. His lips warm on yours, already knowing each other really well, melting in his touch. You heard distant commotion and Rin yelling something, you got away from Altan’s lips laughing softly while he just huffed bothered by the reactions, both of your cheeks bright red and breaths still closed to each other.
“You know,” He started, his gaze low on your lips “My aunt told me that I should keep you close” He snorted “As if I was planning to lose you.”
His eyes back to yours, filled with love, and you had one coherent thought.
Fuck off.
You kissed him harder, hands flying around his neck as his hands went to rest on your waist keeping you steady. You both smiled in the kiss.
“I’m not planning to let you go anywhere else too, Altan Trengsin.”
temperature play w/ altan trengsin (fem reader!) ꔫ ࣪ ˖ ♡
At some point, you truly thought your last moments would've been the sight of your own members hauling you into the prisons of Chuluu Korikh. That probably would've been better than being face-to-face with your commander, shivering like a fucking leaf, with literal icicles forming on your lashes.
Altan was barely feeling the coldness. Seated on a deeper corner of the cave, warming his own body up with his fire. You could briefly make up the few tendrils from afar.
Why wasn't he helping you out? Well, perhaps because of the last conversation you had with him which consisted of you cursing him out for his attitude, denying his two attempts of helping you get warm, and promising you'll get out of said cave without needing his help.
One thing about Altan is he takes orders. Religiously. That's why you can imagine that shit-eating grin on his face right now, watching you shiver like a leaf on a windy day.
You hiss sharply as a particularly harsh wind hits the inside of the cave. Nearly knocking you over as you sit perfectly still like a block, knees to your chest, breathing into that small space you made with your knees. You hear crackling from deeper inside the cave, no doubt that was Altan trying to make your life harder.
Well, technically, it was you making your life harder. You could've fixed this hours ago but no. You chose this.
"It's okay... Just a few more hours... Qara's coming, right? The others... they're looking for us," you whisper to yourself, cradling yourself even tighter. Your breath turning cold in quicker than anything, not even giving you enough relief for at least a moment's warmth.
Your head's spinning, vision blurring. You can barely think straight as the coldness seems to overpower you in every possible way.
You try to focus on something—anything, really, anything just to keep your mind sharp and aware of your surroundings. You have to see this through. It'd be such an anticlimactic ending to die in a random cave all because of hypothermia. Not even because of a fight.
The crackling noises louden yet you can't find the strength to lift your head. You can't even move your lips now because they hurt when you do, the skin seemingly snapping whenever you attempt to move.
Altan had been cozying himself in his little corner when he noticed your body go completely still. You were no longer shivering, shaking. Your head had gone perfectly limp on top of your knees.
He'd been watching you from the start. Manipulating the fire he'd conjured up depending on his mood; increasing it when he felt like mocking you, decreasing it when he felt like it. Now, he'd put it out temporarily only to keep a small bundle of fire inside his palm.
"Huh," he huffs, towering above your body with a sly smirk. "Looks like you didn't quite get out of the cave alive."
"What the fuck?" Your eyes snap open as best as they could. Head shooting up so fast you swore you gave yourself another injury.
You were naked... under a big piece of clothing.
Not your clothing, no—it was too big for you. The armholes were too big, the fabric was too think, and it was covered in burn marks.
It's not yours, it's Altan's.
Fuck was the first word you thought of, about to go hysterical when you realize you are actually naked in the middle of a cave.
Not to mention, it was still damn cold. The winds were still blowing, you could still feel it, but the seemingly undying bonfire by your side kept the right side of your body perfectly warm.
You swallow nothing, feeling the muscles in your dry throat move. "M-my clothes," you mumble, looking around for your clothing.
You notice a small pile not far from your feet, and so you stretch towards it. Before you could reach it though, the fire beside you disappears with a snap of a finger. The rush of coldness appearing as soon as it does.
"The princess is awake, finally," that irritating, grating voice speaks from behind you.
"You asshole," you snap your head towards him, eyes narrowing as you try to pinpoint his figure, "What did you do to me? You really took advantage of a girl that's practically freezing to death? Are you really that much of an animal?"
You were practically screaming hysterically at him. The coat clutched tightly to your chest, knees instinctively pulled to your chest.
"I will tell Commander Tyr about this. He will know—"
Your words are cut off by another sharp gust of wind and a bundle of clothes thrown towards you.
"Go ahead," Altan says, voice irritated, "If it weren't for me, you would've stayed damn dead."
You gasp, "I wasn't dead!"
"You were. Your heart stopped beating. I had to strip you so I could warm your body up again, get your blood flowing," a body thumps at your feet. Altan's leaning by the wall, crimson eyes standing out from the dark environment.
"And for the record, I didn't do anything besides keep you alive. Don't even think about me taking advantage of you. You're not my type."
"Oh yeah, what's your type? Some prostitute that preferably takes a silver coin as payment? One that handles your ego, probably?"
Altan responds, "You can stop being a smart-ass and just thank me, you know? Maybe then I'd put back that fire beside you."
"Always needing an affirmation," you huff disbelievingly, "I see why you stick close to Tyr. He loves giving out praises."
He laughs at you. Deep voice bouncing against the cave's walls.
The silence he responds with doesn't bring you any ease. Your clothes weigh heavy on top of your feet. The wind was slowly creeping up on your skin again; goosebumps rising on the skin of your shoulders, all the way down through your bare spine.
You could feel it. The coldness. It's knocking at you on all fronts and yet, you can't move a thing.
If you stand up to get dressed, you'll lose this little game with Altan and just go back to shivering in some corner. You wouldn't hear the end of it, surely. If you don't move, you're just practically letting yourself get hypothermia for the second time.
Fuck. You're at a bad place. How long do the others have to take to get here?
A prickling sensation disrupts your train of thoughts.
It was at the balls of your feet. A warm, almost fiery sensation nearing itself on your skin. A kind of warmth that, in a way, fought off that coldness quickly consuming you.
"What're you doing?" You tried your best to keep you voice stable, hoping to every god there is that he doesn't notice the way your lip quivered, or how your breath hitched when you felt the skin of his hand on your feet. "Trengsin, what the fuck are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" His crimson eyes snap up, immediately meeting yours. You notice his head tilt as a beat passes by in silence.
A fire conjures itself from his other hand, one that formed a ball above his palm, strong enough that it lit up the surroundings. Strong enough that it made the conniving stretch of his lips visible. Amusement dances in his eyes as he scans over your figure, taking in the way your hands trembled as it clutched the fabric of his coat.
"I'm keeping you warm. Can't have you dying of hypothermia again." Altan snickers, something in his eyes shifting, "Are you still cold?"
You feel his hand by your ankles now, moving at an agonizing pace up your calf, stopping right before your knee. Then his hand moves downwards again, utilizing his own powers as he lets his palm warm you up, soothing the goosebumps on your skin. He keeps his eyes on you as he repeats that movement many times, the muscles on his face twitching whenever he notices your shoulders jerk from the coldness.
Altan shifts his body so he was facing you fully. The ball of fire on his free hand gets thrown at the small pile of wood beside you, giving you enough relief to fight off the chills.
"I can warm you up if you want me, princess," that sarcasm in his voice never left, "But you have to speak up. Not bitch, okay? I mean speak up like a good girl."
The skin on your forehead creases as you glare at him, "Go fuck yourself."
He had clearly expected that because then he's pulling off the coat from your body. Your strength definitely no match for his as he took it straight off of your body with one clean tug, leaving your naked body vulnerable to the cold winds.
You shuffle quickly, lurching forward to grab the clothes on your feet only for Altan to do the same. The two of you freeze as both of your faces come a few inches away from each other, eyes firm with very different reasons. He still had that good-for-nothing smirk on his face, as if willing you to do your next move.
"My cloth--" you shiver, letting go of the hand you had above the pile to hug your chest, the gust of wind seemingly working against your favor. "My clothing. Give me my damn clothes, Trengsin."
He lets you take the pile from him, chuckling darkly at you. "That's not really gonna warm you up though," he lets a small tendril of fire escape the tip of his finger, letting you feel just how warm he could make you, "I can."
"That is if you're up for it." Altan then pulls away, sitting back on his haunches. "Gotta tell me if you are. I can't read minds." The casualness in his voice made your blood boil. He's enjoying the fuck out of this.
You clench your teeth together, gripping the pieces of clothing in your hands. The coldness was getting to you. It was a damn surprise you had stayed that long, naked, and not passed out yet.
Your legs were pressed together, keeping your core as shielded as you could from the cold--or from Altan--but you couldn't deny the tingling sensation you'd been feeling from the moment you woke up. That warm, tingly feeling that made you feel shy of yourself.
It felt like something was coming out of you... dripping out of you.
You glance at the fire beside you, resorting to nearing your hands towards it as you slip on your shirt. The lower garment you kept over your knees, letting the leg holes cover what it could of your legs. Again, you place your hands close to the fire, rubbing them together, then pressing your palms onto your legs to warm them.
That routine continued for a few times before the fire gradually weakened until, eventually, it was put out.
When you turned your head towards where Altan had been sitting last, he was still grinning at you. Of course he is.
Time passes by cruelly. You don't remember how long it had been before his hands returned to the balls of your feet, quickly climbing up your calves just like before. The only difference now was that both of his hands were on you, giving your legs equal attention as he lets the darkness of the cave leave you to your own imagination.
"I just need your word, princess. Tell me to keep you warm," Altan says, voice dropping. "Politely, too," he adds.
In the next moments, you found yourself face to face with him again. His body caging yours to the floor, crimsons staring you down, lips nearly brushing over yours; Both of his arms were on either side of you, on all-fours in between your legs.
He's waiting for you... for your polite words.
Your tongue carefully darts out to lick the dryness off of your lips, finding yourself at a loss for words, asking all the gods above how you have possibly ended up in this rather cold predicament.
"Go on..." he urges you one last time. Watching the way your gaze moved from the rough shadow of his lips to his eyes. "I know you're feeling it too."
Swallowing down every inhibition you have, you finally speak, "I'm cold, Trengsin."
And with that, you hear the lowest, deepest chuckle rumble from his throat. No words leave his mouth as he lets his action speak for himself; pressing his lips to the corner of yours, trailing down quickly as he blew hot breath all over your exposed neck. Planting kisses all over your throat, he lets your hands find home in his disheveled hair. Guiding him as he left love bites at the blank canvas of your collarbone, warm tongue soothing the teeth marks.
"We could've been doing this hours ago if you weren't being a bitch," Altan whispers on your skin, his own body warmth soothing the goosebumps littered all over your own body. "Would've saved us a whole lot of time and I wouldn't have had to save your pretty little ass."
He pulls away from you, grabbing something from his side. You realize it was his coat from before. Altan first lets it cover your entire body, giving you back that little bit of coverage you had before. Then, he dives underneath that very coat, letting you play this little guessing game of where was Altan? Hints in the form of teasing hands rubbing at your supple flesh and pinches from his fingers.
You were staring up the ceiling, mouth agape. Too impatient now to play his games, yet too prideful to say anything more.
When you feel his body nestle itself in between your legs, pushing them apart, you get an immediate idea of where he was. Hence, the impatience consumes you whole. "Trengsin, I swear to the gods if you don't--Hey!" You cut yourself off with a jerk, words shaking at the end, feeling a very hot sensation in between your legs.
"Don't rush me," is all he says before you hear the rustle of clothing again.
Two strong hands wrap themselves on your thighs, just as you began to feel tufts of hair tickling your pelvis. You bite your lip, bracing yourself. Feeling the hotness of his breaths right where you've been wanting it to be since the start. Your eyes were blinking nonstop in anticipation.
And then all at once, numerous points of your body warm up.
One, specifically, was your cunt. Swallowed fully in the warmth of his mouth. An even hotter tongue slithers out, licking your walls languidly, paying no mind to the strong thrashing of your body. His arms tighten around your legs, letting tolerable heat pass through them as well.
"Altan!" You moan out. Your body bows from the ground, hands moving from the blanket to under his coat, grabbing at his hair once more.
He hums in response. Teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue before he moves back up. You feel him smirk into your cunt as he playfully flicks at your clit, careful to tiptoe around the bundle of nerves until your whining and keening, practically grinding your cunt into his mouth.
Altan mumbles something you couldn't quite understand. You try to ask him what it was but your mind was practically mush; the coldness and the hotness playing on your body from all fronts was driving you insane.
You feel calloused fingers tap your pelvis, disappointment washing over you as you feel him pull away from your cunt, barely even paying your clit the full attention it ached for.
Cold air is then blown onto the surface of your cunt, the coldness making you yelp loudly, legs thrashing away from him.
"It's cold!" You yell at him. Weak hand: hitting his shoulders.
Like a little shit, Altan chuckles at you. He blows another breath onto your cunt, this time, it's that warm breath that had your lips falling apart in a broken moan.
He lays his tongue flat, running a whole strip through your clit, putting extra warmth on the muscle as he feels your legs tremble again. Your limbs hook at the back of his neck, trapping him in between your legs. He lets go of one of your thighs, moving his hand up your stomach and to your breast. Fondling the soft muscle as he warms that part up with his palm, pinching and twisting your nipple with his finger.
"Oh—oh!" Your moans spill out continuously, feeling his fingers enter your hole, running through your walls and stretching you out. His tongue darts out, finally giving your clit the loving it'd been waiting for, swirling and sucking it with everything he had.
You clutch the hair at the back of his head, feeling your climax near. You didn't care about anything else; the lewd noises Altan continuously pulled out of you was enough to consume every logical thought you had.
Altan could watch you from underneath his coat. The way your eyebrows smoothed upwards, your eyes closed shut, teeth desperately biting at your lip.
He knew you're close. Very close, in fact. And so his pace slowed, yet the warm sensation on his fingers increased enough to keep you still keening.
Unfortunately, you both hear that familiar voice.
"Trengsin! You two here?"
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