amaretigris

[amaretigris]

[amaretigris]

they call me the problem ignorer for reasons that i know but dont feel like addressing right now

[amaretigris]

some of you have never treated a cat with enough love and kindness to experience their adoration and trust and it shows

[amaretigris]

All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes

[amaretigris]

me as a writer

[amaretigris]

I just don’t caaaarreee. I don’t care. But I care a lot though I care SO much. But also I just don’t care at all and never have. But also I do and always will. Hope that helps

[amaretigris]

Motion Picture

Taglist: @luna2034 @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

Thirst post

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1.2k words | Pure smut

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The night began harmless enough. You and Jonah had planned a date night at the luxury movie theater. Because of his fame, Jonah typically rented out the whole theater to avoid the fanfare. The two of you had chosen to go towards the back rows of seating. You liked to have a good view of the whole screen.

When you settled into your chair, Jonah laced his fingers through yours, and pressed the call button. An attendant arrived shortly after to take your order before the movie began. You ordered your traditional icee and popcorn combo. You were all smiles as you made small talk with Jonah through the previews, lazily tossing popcorn into your mouth.

The lights went out and the opening sequence started. Throughout the whole thing, you couldn't help but glance over to Jonah occasionally. His eyes were glued to the screen. He must have felt your eyes on him, however, because he lifted your hand and brought it to his lips. The sensation of his warm kiss on your cold skin sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. Goosebumps erupted on your arms, and you found yourself biting your bottom lip and rubbing your thighs together.

You tried to pay attention, you really did. But it wasn't long before the heat roared and clawed at your belly, begging to be released. You leaned towards Jonah to whisper in his ear.

"Is there a surprise for me at the bottom of the popcorn bucket?"

His brows lifted, and his eyes finally found yours.

"Not currently. Would you like there to be?"

You nodded, biting your lip again. Jonah's eyes dipped down at the action. His eyes never strayed from your face as he settled the popcorn into the seat beside him. Some of it may have spilled, but his attention was elsewhere at the moment. You saw him shift in his reclining seat, leaning back, and motioning for you to join him. Instead of sitting in his lap with your back to his chest, you boldly climbed over the armrest, and straddled him. He sucked in a sharp breath in response.

"Just like that? You want to ride me in the theater?"

Your hooded eyes focused on his, and you breathlessly nodded. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair. You brushed your lips against his, and you felt his hips jut up in anticipation.

"You don't think anyone will see us, do you?"

Jonah released a low, dangerous chuckle.

"Now, I know you better than that, don't I?"

You crinkled your brow in confusion. Jonah brought his thumb up to pull down your bottom lip. His eyes stayed focused on your mouth.

"I paid the attendants extra to not disturb us unless we hit the call button."

Your eyes darkened. How did this man completely and inherently get you? The liquid heat pooling between your legs responded to him, and Jonah groaned.

"I can feel you dripping onto my jeans, princess," he looked down to where your skirt covered your panties. His eyes flicked back to yours.

"Do you want to cum in the theater? No one will be able to hear you," he promised.

Judging by the roaring audio from the screen behind you, you believed him. You eagerly nodded.

"Yes, please," you begged. You rolled your hips for good measure, feeling Jonah's hardening length under the apex of your thighs.

His breath hitched, and Jonah leaned his head back to watch your face as his fingers pushed your panties to the side. You moaned when he sunk a digit into your folds with little warning. He knew you liked it a little rough, but he never went too far. He could play you like a fiddle at this point.

His thumb found your clit in slow, torturous circles. That, combined with an extra digit pushed inside you was enough to throw your head back in pleasure. You rode his fingers urgently, panting and whimpering for release. Jonah drug it out a little longer than necessary, but he had to tease you a little for being this bold in public. His own breathing grew deeper, and Jonah wanted to see you come apart on his hand.

He reached up to pinch your nipple through your thin bralette you wore, and suddenly you were clenching and writhing around his fingers. Jonah let his mouth fall open in pure admiration. After he helped you through your high, you brought your forehead to his. One might think that that was your sign that you were done and spent, but he knew better.

Your nimble fingers worked his button undone and the zipper down, pulling his length from his briefs. You gasped at the feeling of it pulsing in your hold. You licked your lips, still staring deep into Jonah's eyes. "Do it, babygirl," he encouraged. "Take what you need."

Without any hesitation, you slid down onto him. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as you pushed him to the hilt. Jonah's mouth also fell open at that, but he quickly captured your bottom lip between his teeth as you set a pace above him. Jonah released his hold of your mouth to groan, grabbing hold of your hips. He looked back up to your face twisted in pleasure.

"You needed this, huh? Needed to be fucked in public like the good girl you are?"

You gushed over him, nodding frantically.

"Yes," you chanted. "Yes, baby."

Jonah pistoned his hips into you harder at your admission. Good girls get rewarded, after all. When the screen behind you suddenly went silent and white, you stilled completely in panic. Jonah pulled you to his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder. After a moment, his cock slowly worked in and out of you. Your eyes rolled back at the delicious friction.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he cooed next to your ear. "No one knows you're in here coming apart on my dick like this."

The scene must have been a flashback, because a moment later, a loud burst of music exploded from the screen again. Jonah gritted his teeth, loosening his hold on your back, but maneuvering his hands back down to your hips. Looking at your face again, he could tell that you were close to cumming.

"Does that feel good, love?" He teased.

You wordlessly nodded this time, feeling your brow pinch and a moan start to spill out. You bit your lip to silence yourself as you came, but Jonah's thumb removed it from your teeth.

"None of that. I want to hear you," he encouraged as he thrust harshly into you again for good measure.

You were suddenly spiraling, lost in wave after wave of pleasure. You knew you were loud, but the surround sound of the theater drowned out your orgasm. Jonah pumped into you a few more times before you felt him coating your walls. You sat hunched over him and out of breath for several minutes. You eventually shakily stood, watching his release drip down your leg. Jonah grabbed a napkin to wipe it before it fell to the floor.

"What's the matter with you?" He smirked. "We're in public."

[amaretigris]

Friction

Taglist: @luna2034 @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

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Ch. 2 | 2.6k words | Angst & smut suggestion

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The truth is that Eric didn't know why he'd offered up his name. It was an olive branch of sorts. He hadn't realized that he'd been so inherently prejudiced against (Y/N) since she arrived. He'd already allowed his past to interfere with his present to a disastrous degree. He couldn't let it seep into everything. His father would chide him for it. He could practically hear the king's voice say, "that's no way to live, son."

Eric also didn't know why he'd thought to tell her to call him by his first name when he already allowed all of the palace staff to do so freely. He would never look at someone sideways for using his name instead of the tiresome "Your Highness" or "Your Majesty" titles. (Y/N) would eventually discover that, if she hadn't already, but it was the mere act of showing her that he didn't think himself better. Admittedly, he has been in a terrible mood for the better part of eighteen months, and sometimes he uses a facade of arrogance to simply save face. If people saw him be confident, maybe they wouldn't worry so much about his state of mind.

But, Eric supposed he could be objectively nicer. He was sure he'd unintentionally taken things out on the staff over the past year. That was the worst of it- that while he was going through his own personal hell, he may have been inflicting it on others. You were the first to openly call him out on his behavior. How long had he been conducting himself so poorly without even realizing?

Although he couldn't guarantee that he'd always be in an upbeat mood, Eric would keep better hold of his manners when addressing anyone around the castle. He thought back to your face when you confronted him on his conduct. You'd had a slight flush to your cheeks despite your resolute demeanor. Even with his astonishment in the moment, he remembered thinking that you looked beautiful. The real question was: why was he thinking about it?

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"You have to be joking," you mumbled to yourself. Lashana had just handed you a tray of tea and asked you to deliver it to the prince. The irony was not lost on you. You hadn't seen him since your last interaction two days ago. What if he'd thought about your words after you left and gotten angry with you? You'd never spoken to one of your employers so openly.

Heat had scorched your face when you said it. You didn't know what had possessed you to address the prince that way, other than the fact that you were tired of being trodden down by royalty. That was all well and good, but you must remember your place. Snapping your thoughts back to the present, you shook your head. You nervously cleared your throat, teetering the tray in your hands.

"Ah, is there anyone else who can take this, ma'am?" You quietly asked. "I was going to tend to the washing."

Lashana gave you a knowing smirk. "Now, now, don't be intimidated by him." Her expression grew more serious. "The poor lad's had it rough the last couple of years. He may be harsh at times, but he has a good heart."

You sighed, resigned to your fate. "The tea isn't too hot, is it?"

Lashana's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Pardon?"

"Last time he had tea, he said it was too hot and burned his chest. He had to take his shirt off," you shrugged. You shouldn't have included that last bit, but you realized your mistake too late.

Hazel eyes narrowed at you. "I see. And he did in front of you?" She quirked a brow.

You stammered, feeling embarrassment wash over you. "N-N-No, of course not. I happened to be in the hallway." You licked your lips, feeling the need to over explain. "I was searching for the washroom, and I got your directions mixed up and-"

"(Y/N)," Lashana's hand came to rest gently on your shoulder, halting your babbling. You sucked in a sharp breath. "The tea isn't too hot by now. Off you go," she flicked her chin in the direction of Eric's room. She turned from you with a soft smile on her face as she heard you ascend the stairs.

Cursing your luck, you wound your way through the halls to the prince's room. You stopped at the door, taking a deep breath to settle your nerves. You raised your fist to knock when you heard a sharp moan. You startled away from the door, barely keeping balance of the tray in your arms. The tea in the pot sloshed slightly, splashing onto the sleeve of your dress. You hissed as it burned your skin. Eric was right, the tea was too hot.

Your eyes searched the hallway, looking for clues as to what you should do. Had you heard right? Or was that a fluke? Just then, a guttural grunt sounded from the room, and answered your question. You couldn't stand there any longer. You all but dropped the tray in your hold to the floor. It was not graceful, and, much to your dismay, the teacup on the tray wobbled on its saucer. Your hand jerked down to steady it before it crashed to the ground, but the distinct clinking of the fine china was cacophonous in the silent hallway.

You heard cursing and rustling behind the door, and you darted down the hallway and around the corner. You flew back down the staircase, and didn't stop until you reached the kitchen again, almost colliding with Lashana in the process. She grabbed your shoulders to steady you with wide eyes.

"(Y/N), you look like you've seen a ghost, girl. What happened?"

You were breathing heavy, gulping in air, but you shook your head. "Nothing."

Lashana gave you an incredulous look. She went to move past you, perhaps to go investigate. You reached out to grip her arms.

"Nothing happened, I promise you. I scared myself is all." You forced a fake chuckle. You hoped it was believable, but given Lashana's expression, you weren't so sure. You held a hand to your heart to sell it. "I thought I heard someone coming around the corner, and I ran into the flower pot. It almost fell to the floor and shattered, and I barely dodged a heart attack."

Lashana's look of disbelief dissolved into a sympathetic smile. "That's okay. I won't tell if you don't. But you really must get a better layout of the castle..."

Her words were overpowered by the roaring in your ears. Relief prickled at your spine, but so did something else. Curiosity? Excitement? You weren't sure, but you'd never felt this alarming sensation before.

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Eric had just crested to his peak when a crashing sound came from the hallway. His pleasure was replaced with a sense of urgency.

"What the hell?"

He moved Marianna off of his lap, despite her protests. "Eric, what are you doing?"

Wrapping a towel around himself, Eric opened his bedroom door. He found a tray with a pot of tea, sugar cubes, and fine china in disarray at his feet. Eric's brow pinched in confusion as he looked down both ends of the hallway. No one was here. Not anymore. Whoever delivered this ran off.

A strong smell hit his nostrils, and Eric clutched the doorway and sucked in a deep breath to identify it. It was the fragrance of vanilla. He did feel sorry for whoever had presumably heard his fornication with Marianna, but they smelled delightful. Your face fleeted through his mind, but Eric shook his head of that thought and turned back to his room, swinging the door closed.

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Eric had never smelled vanilla on you before. Never in passing at least, which is the only time he'd ever been around you. Surely, it wasn't you that left the tea at his doorstep the other night. The palace had hundreds of staff members. Yet the thought still plagued him. What if it had been you? Eric would be embarrassed. Not on your behalf- he was sure you had plenty of suitors. He would simply be embarrassed of another instance of you finding him being indecent. That was all be could seem to be around you.

Most of the palace staff knew of his fling with Marianna. They would see each other occasionally when he was home from his voyages. It was one of the many vices that he'd turned to after the loss of his father. There were no serious feelings harbored between the two of them, but Marianna helped him pass the time. He'd known her for most of his life, and she had suffered the loss of her husband a couple years back. Grief brought the two of them together, if only for the sake of distraction and numbness.

Still, Eric went out of his way to look for you in the days after the incident. He even asked Lashana about your progress. "So, how is the newest employee doing? (Y/N), was it?"

Lashana smiled at him. "Yes, she's wonderful. She's a hard worker, though she does seem to be lost in her head most of the time. Poor thing got sick yesterday, too. It came out of nowhere, but she said she caught a stomach bug."

Eric blinked. "A stomach bug?"

Lashana nodded. "Yes. She's kept to her quarters the last two days, but she said she should be feeling better by tomorrow."

The timing was suspicious. You supposedly got sick the morning after the tea predicament. It could be a coincidence, but Eric had a feeling that it wasn't.

"I see," he continued. "Perhaps I should go check in on her. We wouldn't want any of our staff to be gravely ill without the proper medical attention if it's truly needed."

Lashana opened her mouth, but closed it again with a nod. "Right, sire."

"Very well. Can you show me where the tea is?"

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Eric's pulse pounded in his ears as he approached your corridor. Why was he nervous? He was the prince for god's sake. But something about your bold personality and your beauty had him floundering. What would he say when he got there? He couldn't outright ask you if you heard him the other night. Part of him wanted to, if only to see the flush on your face. But he needed to be more civil than that, didn't he?

Eric arrived at the exact room Lashana had directed him towards. He knew the castle front and back since he'd explored it as a child. He'd never given anyone, staff or otherwise, permission to move into this room until you. At first, he'd given the choice very little reason. Now, it seemed like it was meant to happen. Does he even believe that things happen for a preordained reason anymore?

A quick knock on your door pulled you out of your reading. You glanced to the doorway, wondering if you'd imagined it. When another short knock came after a few moments, you rose up out of your bed. You were still dressed in your nightgown. You'd hardly been expecting visitors. Combing your fingers through your hair, you pulled the door open expecting Lashana.

All of your breath left you when you saw Eric standing in the hall. Your eyes widened, glancing down to the tray in his hands. Oh God. You wanted to die of embarrassment. Did he know? Without a word, you turned from the door, burying your red face in your hands as you trudged back to your bed. Eric stood at the door with a smirk on his face for a moment before he shuffled in the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

That's when he smelled it. His nose was assaulted with the same scent from the other night, and he felt his pupils dilate. He glanced around the space, wondering if he'd find vanilla beans in this very room. None appeared, but the fragrance was so strong that he took a deep inhale, straightening his back. It had been you.

When you sat criss crossed on your bed, Eric realized that you were still lounging in your nearly transparent night dress. You were careful to keep your thighs and lap covered, but Eric's mind wandered. Damn. This was a bad idea.

You finally glanced up at him again, and Eric realized he was just standing in the middle of your room with a tray of tea. Hesitation scurried through him before his feet moved of their own accord. He lowered the tray onto the comforter, pointing on the opposite side from you. "May I sit?" You nodded. He settled himself at the foot of your bed.

"If you're here to see why I've been missing work, I've been sick. I told Lashana I'll be back tomorrow."

Eric's brow formed a v, and he shook his head. "No, that's not why I'm here. I came to see if you're alright. Lashana told me about the sudden onset of your illness." Your eyes avoided his. He would be lying if he said he didn't take delight in the blush that he was rewarded with.

"Yes, well, it was very sudden, but I suppose that's the nature of stomach bugs."

Eric studied you, observing your mussed hair and pouty lips. It gave him ideas.

"I brought you some tea," he quickly changed the topic, pushing the tray towards you.

Your (e/c) eyes briefly touched his, but were diverted again. "I see. It's not too hot?" You teased.

Eric shook his head. "I blew on it to make sure."

The scowl etched on your face made him smile. He watched you open the lid of the tea pot, examining it's contents like it was poisoned. When you were satisfied that it was safe, you poured a small amount into the teacup. He watched you slowly bring it to your lips, and he suddenly had to know.

"(Y/N), you may speak freely with me. You seem to have no trouble with that. Did you drop off the tea at my door the other night?"

You sputtered on the little liquid you had just taken in. Setting the teacup back on the tray, you coughed with a hand to your chest. Eric watched the scene play out before him with obvious amusement. You finally caught your breath again, and tilted your chin up to him.

"No," you lied. "Why do you ask?"

"I went to go investigate the crashing sound I heard from the hallway, but no one was there. Only a tray of tea. It's deliverer did leave a trail of vanilla scent, however."

Eric smiled wickedly as you opened your mouth in horror.

Damn, you knew you shouldn't wear your perfume at work.

"Fine," you admitted, looking down at your hands in your lap. "It was me."

Eric's expression sobered. "I'm sorry," he replied genuinely.

Your eyes shot back up to his in disbelief. "Sorry?"

He released a sigh. "Yes, sorry that I've been entirely unpleasant and unrefined since you arrived here."

You sucked in a sharp breath. The prince was not only admitting his indiscretions, but apologizing to you? You never thought you'd see the day.

"It's okay," you shrugged. Eric kept his eyes on your face, not letting them dip down to your chest. "I've been rude and brash since I've been here, and it's certainly not my place. I apologize for that."

Eric nodded. He held out his hand for you to shake. "Truce?"

You faltered for a moment, wondering just what you were agreeing to if you took his hand. What all did a truce with Eric entail? You realized that you didn't have much of a choice if you wanted to continue working here. You softly took his hand, giving it a shake. "Truce."

[amaretigris]

i'm hotter than i think i am but i'm also uglier than i think i am. won't elaborate

[amaretigris]

Friction

Taglist: @luna2034 @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

A/n: Tumblr is sooooo dead. Here's a random new idea even though I have several ongoing 🤭

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Ch. 1 | 2.2k words | Angst

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Birds singing harmonically and the sun blanketing his room in golden hues woke him. Eric rose to sit, stretching his arms out above his head. He released a peaceful sigh. It was his first time sleeping in his own bed after his latest voyage, and he'd rested well. Throwing back the covers and settling his bare feet on the cold hardwood floors, Eric sauntered to his chiffonier. He haphazardly selected a tan linen shirt and blue cotton pants, throwing them on and combing out his curls for the day.

Releasing another sigh, this one a little less tranquil, he left his room to head downstairs. Weaving through the palace staff and elegant corridors, Eric came to a halt just outside of the dining hall. He could hear his mother and Grimsby exchanging words in hushed voices.

"There were no incidents, were there, Grimsby?"

His mother sounded more worried than angry.

"No ma'am," he abated her. "Everything was smooth sailing from the time we left port until we returned."

"Good," his mother released a relieved sigh. "We wouldn't want him to have another episode of-"

Eric swallowed, stepping out and making his presence known.

"Good morning," he announced.

His mother startled slightly, moving away from Grimsby.

"Ah, good morning, Eric," she forced a smile. "Did you rest well, darling?"

"I did." He held his chin up as he walked to the chair beside her and across from Grimsby. "Did Grims tell you about all the good trade this voyage? We made an impressive profit." He flashed a boastful smirk.

His mother nodded with a light chuckle. "Yes, he did. I'm sure you did wonderful. You've always been good at seeing treasures in a sea of trinkets."

Eric gave her a lopsided grin that erred on the side of smug.

"Yes, you have the makings of a great leader, sire," Grimsby added.

It was meant to be a compliment, but Eric's hand reaching for the bread momentarily stilled before resuming it's movements. The queen eyes nervously glanced to Grimsby's. The man held a small frown, realizing his mistake. Eric cleared his throat, and rolled his neck.

"Are there any news of import since our departure?" Eric addressed his mother again as he buttered his bagel.

The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully. After Eric excused himself, he took Max on a walk down by the beach. He plopped on his rump in the sand, feeling the grains clump around his fingers. He picked up a stray stick of driftwood to throw for Max. He sighed again with a frown. He was doing an awful lot of that lately. He needed to cut it out.

Eric let his thoughts drift to the memory of his father showing him how to skip stones on the water. They'd raced down the stairway to this very beach. It had taken Eric a few tries, and plenty of instruction from his father, but he was eventually successful. He and his father then competed to see who could skip a stone the farthest. His father beat him by a long shot. The abundance of laughter is what he remembered most from that day. It's what he clung to.

Max barking stirred Eric out of his memories. He curiously cast a glance to see what got Max's attention. He could make out a carriage pulling up to the front gate of the castle from his position on the beach. Running a hand through his curls that were being whipped around in the sea breeze, Eric stood up.

"Come on, Max," he called to his companion. "Let's go see what all this is about."

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When your carriage arrived to the castle, your stomach twisted with nerves. Hopefully the queen and prince would be cordial. There was a late king that you'd heard mention of. Apparently, he had always been exceptionally kind to all his staff, and you hoped that his wife and son took note. You didn't have the patience for anyone, including royalty, to spit in your face again. Yes, that had actually happened to you before. If anything like that happened here, you would promptly take your leave. You didn't care how much you needed the money- you wouldn't allow yourself to be degraded like that again.

The carriage came to a stop in the courtyard. The door opened before you completely stood up. You were greeted by a lovely, middle-aged woman. She had curly hair and a beaming smile. You hoped she would be your boss.

"Welcome, welcome," the lady motioned for you to come out. "We're so glad that you've come to us. My name is Lashana. It's wonderful to meet you."

You stepped onto the bricked pavement. Lashana quickly pulled you into a hug. You giggled, hugging her back. Even with your chin tie, her excitement had pushed your hat askew.

"Thank you. My name's (Y/N)."

Lashana grasped your shoulders and extended her arms to look you over. She reached up to straighten your hat.

"You're a beautiful girl, (Y/N)," she smiled. "We're so happy to have you."

She reached down to grab your hand, and Lashana led you through the castle courtyard.

"This is the kitchen," she mentioned of the first room you entered. You studied the expansive space with racks of pots and pans that also held a fireplace. "We have wonderful cooks here."

"This," she tugged you into an adjacent room filled with shelves of dry goods, "is the pantry."

Throughout the tour your mind wandered. You thought of your lineage. You could've had a life similar to this. Perhaps not as regal, but nice all the same.

"Hey, girl," Lashana snapped in front of your eyes. "Are you listening? You must be quite the daydreamer; such a faraway look in your eye," she tsked. "The prince is just like that." She put her hands on her hips while shaking her head.

"The prince is?" You were skeptical. You imagined someone of his rank would have to be a fairly focused individual.

"Yes," she nodded with a sigh. "Especially since everything happened. He hasn't been the same since-"

"Lashana," a voice from behind you interrupted her.

Her eyes widened a fraction and she ducked her head, but otherwise kept her composure. You applauded her for that.

"Your Majesty."

You turned to see who you now assumed to be the prince. The second your eyes met his icy blue ones, you wanted to wither under their sharp gaze. You curtseyed before him.

"Your Majesty," you repeated.

Several seconds of silence passed. You kept your eyes cast down, but rose back up to stand.

"Sire, this is our newest palace employee, (Y/N)," Lashana provided.

You let your eyes rise back to his, and you were met with a face twisted in disapproval. You folded your hands in front of you.

"Are you the maiden from Corsica?"

You nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

Eric released a hmph noise. He examined you for another second or two, then, without another word, promptly took his leave. Not even a nice to meet you. Not even a welcome. A sour feeling settled in your gut. Why did he seem so dismissive of you? Lashana seemed appalled by the prince's reaction.

"I-I apologize," she stuttered out. "I've never seen him be that unpleasant with anyone." She let out a humorless laugh, and placed her hand on your shoulder. "Come, let's get you settled into your new room."

She guided you down the hall, peppering in light conversation to try to distract you from the prince's obvious distaste. You tuned out most of what she said. You simply kept repeating your newly adopted motto: I mean something. I'm worthwhile.

"Here we are," she finally stopped in front of a door.

With a twist of the knob, you were presented with the biggest bedroom you'd ever had the opportunity to occupy. You smiled, stepping forward. It was the second time since you stepped foot in the castle that you were flooded with relief. You admittedly could put up with the prince's sour moods for such nice accommodations.

"I'm glad you seem to like it." A smile graced Lashana's lips as she watched you from the doorway. "I'll have the men bring your luggage along shortly. We start early in the morning, so get all the rest you can tonight, my dear."

Lashana left you to your own devices for the evening. A man carrying your two suitcases showed up at your door soon after. He set the remnants of your former life on your bed before taking his leave with a polite nod. Yes, you could definitely get used to things around here. Everyone besides the prince had been exceptionally cordial.

Your thoughts drifted back to his sharp blue eyes as you unpacked your clothes. Despite his obnoxious dismissal of you, you found him to be quite handsome - frustratingly so, in fact. No matter. It was of no consequence to you. You resigned yourself to avoiding him as best you could around the castle. How hard could it be?

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

In theory, that plan worked well. Unfortunately for you, it had not worked well in practice thus far. You and the prince ran into each other more times than you would like in your first days of employ at the castle. You chalked it up to not knowing the grounds or his schedule well enough yet.

The first occurrence was when you'd regrettably mixed up Lashana's directions to the washroom. You turned multiple corners, peering up and down the indistinguishable halls. You huffed in exasperation when you hit yet another dead end. Turning to retrace your steps, again, you faltered as the scandalous, devastating sight of black curls, blue eyes, and taut, tanned skin came into view.

The prince emerged from an unknown room, yanking his white shirt over his head impatiently. He froze when he saw you, holding the fabric in front of his bare chest. He obviously hadn't expected to run into anyone, much less you, in the hall. You ducked your head at his scowl.

"What's this, then?"

"Ah, I apologize, Your Majesty. I lost my way to the washroom is all."

Your eyes glanced up to catch the obvious spill of liquid on his bunched up shirt in his hands.

"Do you need a fresh shirt, sire?"

Your eyes cast back down to the floor awaiting his response. You didn't want to be caught ogling his defined torso.

"I have one in my room," he dismissed. "I spilled my tea is all. It burned my chest it was so damn hot."

You nodded. After an awkward silence, you spoke again.

"If I may pass you, I really must find the washroom," you spoke in a small voice.

He sighed. "Very well." He stepped aside and let you squeeze yourself to the wall to get past him, but spoke before you left his sight.

"Oh, and (Y/N)?"

You turned to him with a hopeful expression- maybe he'd direct you to the washroom. Instead, he'd fixed you with an unamused glare.

"Don't make my tea piping hot next time."

He crossed the hall, slamming the door behind him in his wake. You blinked. You had no idea who'd made his tea, but it certainly wasn't you.

The second time you had the pleasure of running into him was a couple days later in the courtyard. He and his cute dog, Max, or so you'd been told, came barreling up from the beach. They appeared to be racing. For once, you saw the prince smiling and laughing with his lovable pup. He bent down to scratch behind Max's ears. The sight made you absentmindedly smile, which, in turn, made you frown with realization. This man hasn't been the least bit welcoming, and you'd do well to remember that.

Max caught sight of you, and ran to you with his tail wagging. You smiled and greeted him with a few pets. The prince soon came into view.

"Don't feel special," he spoke in a clipped tone. "He does that with everyone- even people he shouldn't be so friendly with."

You took a deep breath, straightening your spine, and looking the prince directly in the eye.

"Have I done something to offend you, Your Majesty?" You quirked your brow. "You seem rather irked by my presence. I can assure you, I keep to myself, and I won't make any trouble here."

He seemed to be caught off guard by your question, but he narrowed his eyes at you.

"No," he slowly replied. "I'm rather wary of Corsicans in general. My family has not had much luck with them in the past."

"Ah," you nodded. "So you hate me because of where I'm from, and not because of who I am as a person," you quipped. "Noted. Well, I'll excuse myself. Have a pleasant evening, Your Highness."

You had to admit that you only added the last bit to stoke the fire. You walked past the prince and his dog to retire to your quarters for the evening. The sun was setting over the horizon, and the warm glow put you at ease. You were also satisfied with the prince's answer. At least he'd given you an actual reason for his disgust, and not tried to simply excuse or deny it. You were only steps away from the corridor leading to your chambers when the prince called out again.

"(Y/N)."

You froze in place, but didn't face him.

"Call me Eric."

You turned at that, only to catch sight of his exit.

[amaretigris]

“don’t let it bother u” baby i’m gonna be bothered by this for the next 10 years

[amaretigris]

people who only use conventional social media are so funny bc they’ll casually be like “can I see your tumblr??” are you Insane. this is no instagram or twitter. this is my vault of secrets

[amaretigris]

Not sure about anyone else but I re-read all my favourite AO3 comments when I’ve had a rough day so if you’ve ever taken the time to write a deep, funny, or just kind comment, thank-you.

[amaretigris]

hfggvghjccgjghggfhvhhhhjhjfh goodnight, gorgeous. the tortures resume bright and early tomorrow

[amaretigris]

i miss him (fictional character that i can rewatch or reread at any time i want)

[amaretigris]

[amaretigris]

true swag comes from pain & suffering