#finally something that fits the pace and majesty

[mackdaddyofthecravate]

Craving a gorgeously crafted MV among all the frenetically edited tiktok slop

Oh good I found it

[maneskinwh0re]

“you want me to break you.” ~ fem loki laufeyson x fem reader

one shot, smut, 18+

this is porn with a plot. freak level 100. 3.4k words. yes, i’m ovulating. cw: 18+ dom!loki, fem!loki, loki x reader, begging, edging, teasing, embarrassment k!nk, knife play, cuffs, blood, praise, degradation, punishment kink, semi-public sex

read at your own risk babes. first time writing smut and my hormones did not hold back !! idk if i like this or not lol but i have more in the works xo

“tear you apart” by ‘she wants revenge’ while you read >:)

cred to loki concept artists - got these pics from insta and pinterest like a year ago

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location: asgard

you pace the golden palace halls as you wait for thor and the warrior’s three to return. it’s been a few hours now, and your mission is only a simple weapons transfer across realms. once everything is in order, you plan to return to midgard, aka earth, and assist the avengers in whatever is next on the heroes’ roster. the sun has set and multiple asgardian moons are shining bright lights across the galaxy’s sky.

the sound of light steps echo the hallway as you walk, until you decide to lean against one of the wide, golden pillars that reach up to the high ceiling. with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes for a moment, wondering how much longer thor is going to take in the council meeting. when you open your eyes, thor’s sibling is staring at you only a few yards away, leaning on an opposing pillar. your startled gasp made her smirk, her emerald green eyes never leaving yours.

loki has heard stories of the midgardian avenger, often by eavesdropping on thor’s babbles of his “heroic adventures.” and you’ve heard stories of her, but often spoke with negative qualities through tony stark’s gritted teeth. you have never seen the goddess in person. her dark hair falls on her shoulders and a dark green corset hugs her hourglass figure. she wears black pants and tall black boots that reach her thighs. a fluffy, light-gray coat drapes over her while the tall horns on her golden helmet curve upward. she definitely looks like a goddess, but you internally curse yourself for the thoughts you have of the villain.

she slowly toys with a dagger in one of her slender hands until she finally speaks.“hello, mortal,” her voice is smooth, fit for a princess.

“loki,” you nod, crossing your arms over your chest. you know you shouldn’t be conversing with her. hopefully she’ll leave you alone if you ignore her gaze long enough.

loki sees your ignorance to be a challenge, of course, so she walks closer. “may i ask what you’re doing in asgard?” her tone is sweet as she raises an eyebrow curiously.

you inhale slowly as you think of a response. how much does she know?how much should she know? you assume not much and that you should keep it that way.

keeping it vague, you reply, “um, well…i’m here for a mission, under the avengers initiative.”

loki smiles sweetly as she stops in front of you. “mission? avengers initiative? oh my, how cute.”

you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach over loki’s closeness. “it’s classified.”

“classified?” loki hums, looking down at you. “do you wish to tell me more? i’m very curious, y/n. just between the both of us, of course…” she leans closer, putting the dagger she was playing with in her thigh holster in order to give you her undivided attention.

“i’m terribly sorry, your majesty,” you reply in a sarcastic tone, smoothing out the fabric of your black training suit. “but i’m afraid i cannot disclose any more information.” you straighten your posture against the pillar and find some enjoyment as you tease loki. “not unless i could get…something in return.”

she thinks to herself with a smirk, then raises an eyebrow. “ah, something in return? what is this something that you expect me to give you, mortal?”

“again,” you whisper, looking her up and down. “classified.”

“you know, mortal, it’s really unfair if you don’t tell me anything whilst i’m standing here with such curiosity. i want to know,” she leans in closer, her lips brushing your ear. “what is this classified information you are hiding from me, darling?”

you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of loki’s cold breath on your ear and neck, her scent of rain and oak filling your nose. she pulls back as her hand moves to your chin and turns your face to look up at her. your eyes flick open as she forces you to look up into her dominant gaze.

“it’s not worth your valued time, your majesty,” you breathe, speaking honestly. “only a weaponry transfer across realms. nothing more.”

loki’s fingers slowly move down to the zipper on the front of your skin-tight black suit. “nothing more? what if we make this mission a little more personal?” she asks flirtatiously as her hand begins to pull at the end of the zipper.

a moment of clarity hits as you realize you are both still in the open hallway. your lips part as you breathe heavily, grabbing loki’s hand to pause her movement. you look left and right, searching for any working guards or wandering civilians.

“what if someone-” you begin to ask worriedly until loki backs you behind another nearby pillar.

“that is why you’re going to be quiet for me,” loki whispers against your neck, her free hand beginning to roam. “no one will see you but me.”

she continues to try to unzip your suit, ignoring your hand lingering on the back of hers as her fingertips brush against your skin. “you need to be a good girl for me and let me unzip it…”

you start to focus on your breathing once again. you keep your hand on loki’s wrist but your resistance lightens, allowing her to move your suit’s zipper lower until the fabric falls slightly off your shoulder. loki’s fingers and thumb brush against your bare skin under the suit, teasing you until her lips coat light kisses across your collarbone.

“good girl…let me undress you, darling. you’re mine after all.”

a soft whimper escapes your lips as you allow her to remove your black suit. she helps guide your arms out of the sleeves and lets the top half of the suit roll down to your hips. a shiver runs up your spine as the cold night air hits your skin. loki’s gaze darkens as her hungry eyes lower to your breasts.

“gods, you’re so beautiful…,” she praises as her hands caress your thighs and slowly work their way up your torso. “yet so fragile. i could break you in half.”

“then do so,” your voice shakes as your hands tangle in loki’s dark hair, tugging on it slightly. “break me, princess.”

something inside loki snaps instantly as soon as those three needy words leave your mouth. she pushes herself against you as her lips latch to yours in a passionate kiss, gentle and warm at first, until her tongue enters your mouth as her hands travel up and down your thighs, squeezing them tightly. after a few moments, she starts biting and pulling at your bottom lip with her teeth.

the way loki kisses you brings up a moan from the back of your throat, a sound that only drives her crazier. her lips leave yours and you immediately try to catch your breath. she then bites down on your neck, leaving marks and hickeys that will only darken in time. you feel a drowsy heaviness pull your head back, resting against the pillar as loki pants into the nape of your neck.

your hand trails up loki’s arm and shoulder until you reach one of the horns on her golden helmet. you tug on one of the horns, subconsciously trying to pull her head downward for a moment before you realize what you’re doing.

“y/n,” loki warns, biting harder as one hand grips your waist and the other pulls your right thigh up to her side. she presses her hips against yours, grinding hard as she resumes suffocating you with open-mouthed kisses. your body tenses at the pressure, moving your hips in hopes to find more friction.

“loki…please,” you groan as soon as her tongue temporarily leaves your mouth. your fingers tug at her green and gold armor, craving her body even if that means you’d have to pry every layer of her clothing off yourself.

loki lets you move and squirm, all while still holding your right thigh against her left hip. she slips her free hand under your suit to start rubbing slow circles on your clit through the silky fabric of your underwear, bringing another whimper from your mouth.

“you want me to break you?” loki whispers into your ear, continuing the many pecks and bites to your neck. she sucks slightly on your collarbone until your nails are practically digging into her corseted waist. “such a naughty girl. let me punish you…”

you can feel yourself grow wetter with every filthy word that leaves her lips. you look up into her eyes and nod as a consensual gesture for her to be rougher with you, not being able to wait any longer.

“punish me, loki…please.”

“that’s it, darling,” she lowers your thigh as she kisses down your body until she is kneeling in front of you, her hands caressing every one of your curves as she moves. she then roughly pulls the rest of your suit down your legs until it pools at your ankles. her thumb resumes the achingly slow movements to your clit through your underwear as her fingers press against the dampening fabric covering your vagina.

“f-fuck,” you curse as both your hands grip the horns on loki’s helmet, using it to stable your legs’ weakening balance.

“easy, dear,” she says. “watch that pretty mouth of yours, or i’ll put it to good use.”

“i…” you breathe, trying to form an argument back, but loki’s thumb starts to move faster before you can think to stop yourself from cursing again. “oh- fuck!”

“ah, you little brat.”

she then quickly rips off your panties and stands up abruptly. she grabs your jaw and forces two fingers into your mouth. you don’t hesitate to shamelessly suck on her fingers. they’re in for only a moment before she pulls them out and wets her thumb with her own tongue. she then lowers her hand and you feel those same two fingers being pushed inside your wet cunt.

a pained yell escapes your mouth until it’s muffled by her free hand. her thumb resumes rubbing circles on your clit at a quicker pace than before, helping the ache turn to painful pleasure.

“shh, remember what i told you, hm? i said you need to be quiet for me,” loki shushes you. your legs are already struggling to support your body while the knot in your stomach grows.

your whimpers and moans are muffled by loki’s slender hand, forcing you to control your breathing through your nose. her thick gold rings are cold against your cheeks. both your hands grip her wrist, inhaling and exhaling unsteadily as your eyes catch the dagger sheathed in her thigh holster. when loki realizes what you’re looking at, she pauses her movements with a smirk and pins both of your wrists to the pillar above your head, not even bothering to wipe or suck your juices off her fingers. you let out a frustrated groan over your delayed release and squeeze your thighs together, feeling embarrassed on how loki caught onto what you were eyeing.

“how cute,” she whispers against your lips, her taunting tone and cold breath flowing into your open mouth. “is that how you want to get punished, my adorable slut?”

you press your lips together to stop yourself from whimpering again, only having the ability to nod in response. loki moves her fingers down to the holster and removes the knife. she then brings it up to your throat and presses the side of the blade against it. the threat is somehow arousing in a way you have never felt before. you wonder how far you’re willing to go. then wonder how far the villain is willing to go…

“do it, then,” you say with a challenging tone and a raised brow, half confident that loki is bluffing. part of you hopes she isn’t. “you won’t, princess.”

“oh, yeah?” loki looks playfully offended, tilting her head to the side as she studies your nervous breaths. her lips form a sly smirk on her face as she trails the cold blade down, past her leftover bite marks and down to your chest. she presses the blade against your skin harder, not quite drawing blood, but definitely causing enough pain for you to try to maneuver yourself away. “how about i carve the letters of my name right here across your breasts, you little brat?”

you suck your teeth as the pain grows. you squirm in loki’s grasp and lick your lips. “once again,” you chuckle softly and smirk back up at her. if you are going to do this, part of the fun is the fight. “you won’t do it.”

loki’s lips form a slightly cruel smile. a thin, red line appears on your skin, causing you to hiss out a groan. the pain doesn’t get any easier as you feel a bit of warm blood trickle down your breast before another line is slowly carved, creating an “L” shape on your lower chest. loki goes to continue the three remaining letters, but your struggle to stay still makes her pause. she uses her magic to create green, transparent restraints out of thin air, keeping your wrists pinned to the pillar before teasingly pressing the tip of the blade to the center of your sternum.

“is that all the punishment you can handle for now, little brat? are you gonna stay still for me now?” loki lifts your chin with the end of the dagger, watching you find the strength to nod and recover slowly. you try to ignore the painful reality carved into the skin of your breast. while you don’t yet regret challenging loki’s bluff, it still hurts like hell—like a good hurt…for now at least. you nod in answer to loki’s question before looking at her lips. she reads your expression, understands your nonverbal request, and willingly gives herself to you.

she hums into the kiss, a moan following shortly after as you lift a knee and push it up between her legs. her tongue enters the kiss as she throws the dagger aside, the clattering noise loudly echoing through the hallway. both of her pale hands cup your face, expressing how gentle she now wants to treat your fragile body.

you try to move your arms to hold her closer, caress her curves, tangle your fingers in her hair—anything, but you can only tug at the restraints created by her witchcraft abilities. “lo…,” you pant between kisses in her grasp.

loki notices, but doesn't care. she continues to enjoy caressing your face and body for a few more moments. her hands finally travel lower until her damp fingers reach your sensitive nerves, your aching cunt still craving the delayed orgasm from earlier.

“beg for it,” she coos as her fingers tease your entrance, coating her digits with your wetness.

“loki,” you protest, bucking your hips up slightly in hopes for resumed friction.

“don’t make me repeat myself.” loki’s tone is stern. her free hand squeezes one of your breasts and pinches your nipple, bringing another pained moan from the depths of your throat. you felt so weak already, but loki intends to fuck you as long as you can still stand.

“please, princess. i…i’m begging you. p-please,” you whimper, your back arching against the golden pillar as you continue to squirm under loki’s teasing grasp.

loki grins at the sound of your little whimpers and begs as her thumb adds pressure to your clit. “don’t you dare move now, darling, not until your princess decides you can cum. you understand?”

“yes, lo…” you gasp as she pushes two fingers into your wet cunt. you so badly want to continue to squirm and beg, but you know better now to follow commands to stay still and quiet. your chest unsteadily heaving up and down is the only movement loki allows as her digits pump in and out of you at a slow pace. “m-more…”

her smirk widens at your stuttered request, moving her fingers faster as her mouth reconnects with yours, swallowing every whorish sound you make as she fucks you. your eyes squeeze shut and your jaw locks, trying not to hiss curses through clenched teeth. your faint words are stuttered between soft, breathy moans. “loki…oh, god- i…i’m-”

“i know, my dear. i’m right here. gods, you feel so good wrapped around my fingers…just in a panting mess like this,” loki whispers seductively as her fingers continue to move faster and faster. she kisses the skin beneath your ear between praises. her grip on your breast tightens as she presses her body against you. her pace is perfect. it is all too much, yet not enough.

loki’s lips kiss your cheek before whispering in your ear. “cum for me, darling…”

her thumb presses hard against your clit, and at her words, your body follows her command. the tightness in your abdomen unknots as you release a high-pitched moan that causes a greater effect on loki than you know. she is practically soaked from watching your pleasured reactions. she does not rush you to open your thighs as you ride out your orgasm against her palm. she enjoys the feeling of her hand trapped between them…as well as the thought of what it would be like for her face to be in her hand’s place instead. her kisses are gentle and slow, finding a steady rhythm to allow you breaks in between to catch your breath.

“you’re such a good girl. doing exactly what she’s told.”

the restraints above your head fade away, and you practically melt into loki’s arms. your head feels as light as a feather and every nerve in your body is relaxed. you feel loki’s palm on your breast, resting over the “L” she cut into your skin. a comfortable silence falls between you two as you lazily wonder why her hand is subtly glowing. you know you will never be able to explain how she heals you, even as you watch the tingly green magic flowing from her palm into your sore muscles. once she removes her hand, it’s like there is no trace of the injury, to the point where you almost ask if it was ever there. loki brushes a strand of hair away from your face and kisses the bridge of your nose. with a single motion of her fingers, your black training suit is rolling up until it is snug on your body, with no trace of her hungry hands pulling at the fabric minutes prior.

as if on cue, you hear the double doors at the end of the hall open, making an unmistakable creaking sound notifying you the council meeting is over. stomping noises of guards lined in pairs and the confident voice of thor reverbs off the walls, causing you and the goddess to shrink further behind the wide golden pillar.

as you smooth out your hair, she adjusts her helmet and attempts to play with the small weapons in your belt. you swat her hand away as thor, odin, and rows of asgardian keepers pass by, sounds of their armor clanging and clashing.

thor’s words boom above all the noise to instruct a young palace maid to fetch you from your chambers, where you’ve supposedly been told to wait during the meeting. steps at the volume of a mouse scurry off towards the direction of your quarters.

as soon as all footsteps recede, loki’s arms wrap around your waist from behind and cling tight, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“surely, you’re not leaving for midgard now. are you, darling?” she pouts.

you chuckle for a moment until you realize she is serious. “i do have to go, princess.”

“and there is no way i could…convince you to stay?” she purrs, nibbling at your ear.

“i know you could, and that’s why i need to leave now before you get the chance,” your voice is soft and teasing. “but if there is another…weaponry transfer…i’ll make sure to travel along.”

the goddess of mischief reads your honest facial expression and kisses you. a gentle goodbye.

“that’s my good girl.”

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as much time as i spent working on this…i don’t like it >:(

my wife deserves better smut than this smh

requests are open babes <3

-bee xx

[nevadancitizen]

“debts to pay: nasty majesty!”

synopsis: sniping isn’t really something you wanted to do, but something you were forced into. luckily, you’re one of the best. unluckily, someone wants that position. that someone happens to be a 6′10 freak of a man.

word count: 1.4k

characters: könig, sniper! reader

trigger warnings: canon-typical violence

notes: i think i heard someone talking about könig being jealous that reader’s a sniper and reader being jealous that könig’s an intrusion specialist? can’t find anyone talking about it though. if you’re out there drop by! i like your ideas ^-^ also i’m going to be trying my hand at a series for tha first time in awhile.. be patient w me!!

chapters: one (you are here!) / two

The first thing you notice about König is the similarity he has to Atlas Shrugged and its author, Ayn Rand. He’s constantly trying to play both sides, just how Rand was pro-communism in her politics and pro-capitalism in her books – oh, yes, he’s so shy and insecure and such a fucking loser to others, but when he sees you, you who’s been shoved into the position of a sniper, he fucking seethes. 

It’s not even like you wanted this! All your life you’ve been dreaming of having his job, of getting your feet on the ground and putting boots in asses. Maybe it was a misguided attempt to get that adrenaline rush, maybe it was your true calling that your superiors would only recognize in time. But in any case, it wasn’t your job. 

Being a sniper isn’t honorable. You sit for hours at a time, being perfectly still, waiting for the perfect opportunity that might not even come. And what were you even supposed to do if there was someone right in front of you? Run five hundred miles away and take a shot? It feels like being the crazy ex: stalking, waiting, and, finally, striking. 

And that’s what you were doing right now. Sitting in a highrise apartment that wasn’t yours, looking out the window with binoculars, scoping out the target. She was moving about her hotel room, pacing back and forth while on the phone. It looked like she was having to hold herself back from screaming into it. 

The comm in your ear crackles to life. Your superior addresses you, then asks for a sitrep. You sigh and look away, bringing the binoculars away from your face. Your peripheral vision comes back into focus after you rub your eyes. 

You speak into your comms, “Schaeffer’s still in her hotel. On a call. Looks pretty damn angry.”

“Hold your fire,” your superior says. “Wait til she’s hung up. Then make it quick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You quickly open the window and grab your sniper rifle, attaching a suppressor and resting the bi-pod on the windowsill. Breathing out slowly, you closed one eye and looked down the scope. It was just like looking down the binoculars, just with a crosshair, you remind yourself. You find Schaeffer’s hotel room window through the scope and watch. 

A horrible feeling settles into the pit of your stomach. You feel like a creep. You want to give the revolutionist an honorable death – best her in combat or something. Not shoot once and run away like a coward. 

Schaeffer screams into the phone, very probably something along the lines of ‘fuck you!’. She hangs up and throws her phone into the duvet of her hotel bed. Her hands fly to her scalp, looking like she wants to tug her locs out as she practically froths at the mouth in frustration. 

“Permission to fire?” you ask quietly. 

“Permission granted.”

The sound of the bullet leaving the gun is muffled by the suppressor, but right next to your head, it sounds like the crack of Babe Ruth hitting a baseball. Schaeffer jerks back and falls, just a bit of blood and brain matter splattering onto the wall. Confetti fit for a funeral. 

“Target down,” you say into the comms. You quickly gather your things, making sure to leave no evidence you even broke into the apartment for the perfect angle on Schaeffer. With your disassembled rifle in a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, you walk out of the apartment as casually as you can – even pretend to lock it behind you. 

You walk down the hall with your heart roaring in your ears, adrenaline screaming at your body to run as fast as you can, lest you get caught by Schaeffer’s followers. But you maintain a calm – maybe even bored – demeanor. 

And everything is quiet until you step into the elevator. 

A college student, no older than twenty, steps aside when you step into the elevator. You shift on your feet when you see a Vox Populi pin on their backpack – the name of Schaeffer’s revolution. The disassembled rifle clatters in your duffel bag. The college student sends a weird look your way as the scope falls out and clangs on the floor.

You quickly grab it and shove it in your pocket. You look at them out of the corner of your eye, gauging their reaction. “Don’t worry – it’s a prop. I’m a cinema student. The rest is filming equipment.” 

The way you speak leaves little room for doubt. The college student hums in understanding. You let out a silent sigh of relief and thank your lucky stars. 

You both stand in silence until the elevator reaches the bottom level of the apartment complex. You head for the front door while the college student heads for the front desk – probably to pick up a package or something. 

You’re one foot out the door when you glance over your shoulder to see the college student pointing at you. One of the front desk attendants slides her hand under the desk and hits a button, causing an alarm to blare. 

You take off, practically tripping over yourself as you run. Your hand flies to your ear, pressing the talk button on your comm. “Cover’s compromised, what now?!” 

“Sending coordinates of a nearby operator. He’s in a black, four-door SUV,” your superior replies. 

You slide into an alley, fishing your phone out of your pocket. The operator’s two hundred feet away – something you can cover without exhausting yourself too much. You pocket your phone and take off running towards him, eyes scouring the streets for a parked car that matches the description. 

When you see that only one car on the street is a black, four-door SUV, you immediately open the door and slide into the backseat, throwing your duffel bag on the seat beside you. 

You’ve only caught your breath just the slightest bit when you say your name and identify yourself as a fellow KorTac operator. You lean into the gap between the front seats to get a look at the driver, but your eyes dart to a ragged, black t-shirt in the passenger seat. Grey thread sews the neck and arm holes shut, and bleach-dyed tears run from two ragged holes cut in the pec area. You immediately recognize it as a mask that belongs to –

“König. KorTac.” 

You whip around to see his narrowed eyes peeking out from behind his hood. He’s gripping the steering wheel like he’s trying to choke it out. You lean back into backseat territory, sighing. 

You look out the window at the people walking on the sidewalk. “Superiors said to catch a ride with you.” 

“And I wasn’t alerted.” König shifts the car into drive and moves onto the road, still keeping that white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. 

You roll your eyes and scoff. “It was practically a fucking fiasco, man. Don’t think there was time for them to call you up and say, ‘Hey, is it alright if one more operator tags along back to base?’!”

“Of course you’re the type to say fiasco,” König mutters under his breath. 

“What does that even mean?!” 

König doesn’t respond, just keeps his eyes on the road. You sigh and lean forward between the gaps in the front seats, turning on the radio so you don’t suffocate in this silence that’s quickly growing tense. König’s grip on the steering wheel relaxes.

You lean back against the seat, watching the countryside fly by. The disassembled rifle rattles in your duffel bag. You lay a hand on it to silence it. 

Minutes go by as the top hundred hits play on the radio before König reaches over and turns the volume down just the slightest bit. 

He glances in the rearview mirror before returning his eyes to the road. “Who was it?”

You shift in your seat, ever so slightly. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m trying to be polite.”

“Sure, ‘cause you know so much about politeness.”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens again. You’re sure he could rip it straight off if he wanted to. Maybe he would. Hell, maybe he’d beat you to death with it just so he could take your job. He’s just like that when it comes to you. 

You lean forward and turn the volume back up. A new song starts – one with heavy beats that almost shake the car. The beat cuts out for a split second and a woman sing-shouts “Na-a-sty!”

Your eyes flicker to the radio interface. The song is Nasty Majesty by Off the Hook. A small smile settles across your face as you lean against the window. 

That’s what König is. A nasty majesty. 

[horrors-at-night]

Thinking about Briar waking up in her bedroom and finding the King there. Her sitting up, surprised, the covers falling from her body to expose her bare breasts. He does not react, his empty face shows no emotion, standing in regal silence in the darkness. And yet she feels his gaze fall upon her body.

Without a thought she pulls back the blankets, revealing the rest of her form. She wants to approach him, ask what he's doing here, what he wants. But he is there before she can react, one massive hand placed upon her stomach. He pushes her back upon the bed and even before she feels his body settling between her thighs, she understands what he wants.

She isn't afraid. Intimidated, perhaps, already thinking about how on earth his cock will fit within her. But the hands that explore her are gentle and cool, and her body is warm and sensitive. Maybe it's because she's not fully awake that she lets him do as he wants. Maybe it's just a dream. But when his fingers find her clit, swirling stroking teasing her aching nub, she forgets any protest she could've had.

Her hips lift off the bed with her release, her head falling back. His majesty's fingers trace over her twitching petals, ghost over her entrance. And then they return to her clit. And she doesn't have the breath to beg for mercy. Like he's making up for lost time, like her body is his toy, he plays with her. Her mind spins. Her fists grip his coat. She can't hear what she's saying but she's begging, begging-

"please please please please please please please, Cabadath, please-"

When she finally falls quiet, limp and submissive on the bed, he takes her. He leans over her body. Something larger than anything she's ever felt grazes her swollen cunt. Briar whimpers, and that's all she can do. He teases her at his leisure, dragging the tip between her folds, kissing her sore little clit with it.

And when it presses into her body, finally, she feels every inch of it. She shudders, eyes wide and weeping, and so, so full. The King moans above her.

His thrusts are slow, steady, smooth. He's savoring her. Enjoying her cunt as he wraps his arms around her and holds her tiny frame close to his torso. Rumbling purrs fill the air and mumbling words she can't understand, some language she's never heard. Her legs wrap around him.

His control frays. His thrusts quicken, his claws dig in. His purrs become growls. He pants. Her name joins his mumbled words. When his control snaps she's barely ready for the powerful thrusts, for the animalistic pace of it. And she doesn't know what she says to him, her coherence is gone, lost in the pleasure, but he snaps.

Maybe it was that moment, maybe it was hours later, when he cums. She couldn't miss it, when he does. The heat of his seed, the howl above her, the pulse of his length as he fills her.

It occurs to her then, her exhausted, sleepy mind, that the same cock, the same cum, that created their worst enemy now rests deep within her. And sure, she is infertile. Nothing will come from this. But as he settles next to her, his fingers tracing over her womb, she wonders, she wonders...

His fingers drag down, his index finger stroking her clit again. Briar moans in willing protest. The King chuckles.

"One more, my dearest," he whispers. "Just one more."

-- THINGS THAT REALLY REALLY REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME OMFG. This is set in my Horrors au universe in case you're finding this for the first time. You can see more info over at @world-of-horrors-au. (The slenderkin in this is Slender's dad btw.)

[baileypie-writes]

(checks your masterlist) Aha, so you're writing romantic stuff about Cure Flamingo! (if no, then sorry) How about fluffy oneshot of Asuka reacting on her Male S/O confesses his feelings through the firework?

A/N ~ Sure! And yes, I do write romantic fics for Asuka, as she’s 15:) Hope you enjoy!

~Hot to Cool~

Asuka Takizawa/Cure Flamingo x Male!Reader

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

Fandom: Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure

Fanfic Type: Oneshot

Reader: Male

Relationship: Platonic to Romantic

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,163

Synopsis: You and the Tropical Club were going to watch a firework show. And you wanted to use the opportunity to confess your love to the coolest girl you know, Asuka.

Warnings: Me being unable to write a non-cringey confession scene

~Masterlists~

~Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure Masterlist~

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

Today was hot.

And for Aozora City, it’s pretty much always hot. But today, it was hot hot. After all, it was summer. So while you tried to enjoy your time out with your friends, all you could think about was possibly dying from heat stroke.

By now, you were wishing that you and your friends had bought ice cream instead of tropical melon bread earlier. You were so miserable, that you weren’t paying attention to the words of concern from Asuka.

“(name)!”

A sudden slap on the back brought you back down to earth. “Huh?”

“I was asking if you’re okay. You don’t look good at all.” She said.

“Oh, haha. Yeah, I’m kinda not okay. I’m so hot.” You wiped beads of sweat from your brows.

“Yeah, me too. But you look like you’re really dying.” She laughed. She then handed you a water bottle. “Here.”

“Oh, awesome. Thank you.” You said dramatically. You took the bottle, and opened it. It hadn’t been open before, so the cap unscrewed with a satisfying crack. After that, you wasted no time chugging down the refreshing, cold drink.

“Woah, slow down! You’ll choke or something!” Asuka warned. But you didn’t stop. Thankfully though, you turned out fine. When you were done, half the bottle was gone.

“Hah, sorry. I kinda drank most of it.” You said, handing it back to her.

“It’s fine. At least now I know you’re not gonna die.” She playfully elbowed you in the shoulder.

You laughed, and a blush spread across your cheeks. But it was probably hard to tell, since your face was already so red from the heat. You had developed a bit of a crush on Asuka, so her playful gesture made you flustered. Actually, any major attention from her made you feel flustered. How could it not? She was so cool and tough! Those were some of the things that drew you to her in the first place.

“C’mon guys! You’re falling behind!” Laura called in an annoyed tone, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Asuka groaned. “Let’s go. Before the mermaid starts whining even more.”

You just laughed, and picked up the pace alongside her.

~~~~

All of you had finally made it to your destination: a nice hill overlooking the beach. It would be great view for the fireworks, which you had forgotten about for a while now, due to the heat.

There was a big tree which casted a large bit of shade that fit all of you under it. You basically bolted to it, desperate for an escape from the sun’s unmerciful rays. The moment you flopped down onto the grass, you let out a big sigh of relief. It was pleasantly cool. Most of your friends laughed, but you couldn’t care less.

“Ugh, make some room for the rest of us, (name).” Laura scoffed.

You groaned a bit, before sitting up, and doing as “her majesty” commanded. Everybody sat down, and to your luck, Asuka chose the spot next to you. With nobody on your other side, you took note of this opportunity.

You thought that if you were feeling brave enough, you would confess to Asuka during the fireworks. You’ve wanted to many times before, but you just felt so intimidated by her coolness. And you also didn’t want to ruin your friendship, especially since you’re now part of the Tropical Club. But you decided that you should just suck it up, and go for it!

But not yet.

The sun finally started to set, painting the sky many colors. All of your friends oohed and awed, while you and Asuka just admired it in silence.

“The fireworks haven’t even started yet, and the sky is already beautiful.” You said.

“Yeah.” Asuka agreed.

It was so peaceful. You could hear the wind, along with the cries of cicadas. And they never seemed to get quieter, even as the night settled in. Though not long later, a loud boom covered their sounds.

“Look! The fireworks are starting!” Manatsu yelled, pointing at the sky.

Everybody looked in the direction of her finger. You could only see the remaining sparks. But just a moment later, a big burst of color exploded into the sky, another loud boom accompanying it.

Everybody started verbally admiring the pretty lights as more and more lit up. You really did have the best spot in the house. Nothing blocked the view, so you could see everything perfectly. This really was the best chance you could ask for.

Glancing at Asuka, you could see the reflections of the fireworks in her eyes. You had to stop yourself from staring, and get to the point. “Hey, Asuka.” You called. But due to the booms, she couldn’t hear. “Asuka!” You tried again, louder this time.

Your words reached her, so she turned to face you. “Yeah?” She said loudly, so you too could hear.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?” Her face displayed a cool, unbothered expression.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” You asked, keeping eye contact. A particularly large and loud firework went off. You could see its glow from the corner of your eye.

Asuka’s eyes widened a bit, and her brows raised. “Wow. I didn’t expect you to ask me so soon.”

You were confused. That was definitely not the answer you were expecting. “Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I thought it was gonna be a while longer before you asked me out.”

“Wait.” You realized. “You knew I liked you this whole time?”

“Well, yeah. It wasn’t hard to notice.” She chuckled, and elbowed you for the second time that day.

“Wow.” You blushed, but thankfully it was dark enough outside to hide it.

Before an awkward silence could creep in, Asuka said something else. “Oh yeah, I didn’t answer your question. Anyway, yes.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up with joy.

“Yeah. I like you too. You’re a really cool guy.” She smiled. You felt her hand move closer to yours on the grass, just barely touching your pinky finger.

You laughed. “Please,” You placed your hand on top of hers. “no one is cooler than you, Asuka.”

She laughed too, and intertwined her fingers with yours. “How about this? We’re both cool.”

“Eh, fine with me.” You said. The two of you turned back to the firework show, almost having forgotten about it. At that point, Manatsu was standing, cheering almost as if the fireworks were actual performers. Sango, Minori and Laura sat a bit in front of you. No one seemed to hear or notice what had just happened, which you were glad about. Though, you knew you had to tell them soon.

But it wouldn’t be too bad. After all, once the word gets out, you and Asuka would be known as the coolest couple in school. In fact, the two of you were so cool, that the heat didn’t seem to affect you anymore.

~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~🦩~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[waltwhitmansbeard]

my fair lady: chapter twenty-nine

we are so close to the end y'all! catch up here. still inspired by @romeoandjulietyouwish!

Vax counts each breath, paces them against the distant, hollow drip echoing throughout the empty dungeons. For each one, he thanks the Raven Queen, and asks for another. He does not want to take more time than the goddess of death has seen fit to grant him, but if he could just stay long enough to see his wife one last time, to feel her heart beat beneath his palm, to look her in the eye and apologize and thank her and say goodbye. He does not wish to fight death, but each breath is a gift, and he will not take a single one for granted.

He doesn't know how long he has been kept down in these holding cells, each smaller than his little bedroom back home with his sister. (Vex'ahlia; he promised her he would return.) There is no sunlight here, no way of naturally tracking time, except, he supposes, that damned drip, the one that is driving him mad. He sits on the floor, rank and damp, with his knees up to his chest, his head back against the stone. It is his fault he is here, his fault that he might die before he can see his wife and sister again; if he had kept calm, kept his mouth shut, he could possibly be up with her right now, kissing away her tears, telling her all the final things he needs her to know before he is gone.

(How very perfect she is, in all her imperfections. How he has had so little to believe in throughout his life, so little to rely upon, and yet he is more confident in her ability to lead her people than he is in the sun's daily path across the sky. How the way her nose wrinkles when she laughs is his favorite thing about her, on an endless list of favorite things. How he fell in love with her one spring day when she was in her garden, up to her elbows in soil, her tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated on pruning a rhododendron, the sun flickering in her hair like fire. How he knows she will find love again. How he needs her to. How grateful he is that she has others in her life to love her, when he is no longer able to do so.)

The steel bolt to his dark hole clangs, and low torchlight floods the room. Vax blinks at the silhouette that has appeared in the doorway there, and after a moment's confusion, he scrambles to his feet and lowers into a deep bow. "Your Majesty."

The sovereign takes the torch from the guard who had opened the door and steps inside. His expression is enigmatic, and Vax wonders if his life won't be taken by him before the Raven Queen can come for it. "I have spoken with my daughter." Vax doesn't say anything. "It seems she is...quite fond of you." Again, he stays silent. "She has instructed me to release you."

"She is...well, Your Majesty?" Vax tries to keep the quiet desperation out of his voice.

"She has seen better days." Vax sees the worry dancing around his eyes. "When I was shown the evidence of the attack in her chambers...and then for her to be missing..." He runs a tired hand over his face, and for the first time, Vax truly considers that his sovereign is just a man. "Despite my...distaste for what has transpired between you and my daughter, I cannot deny that I owe you my very life for keeping her alive."

"She acquitted herself quite well in the struggle," Vax replies with a soft smile. "Her power is formidable." He pauses. "I think perhaps you do not need to worry for her quite as much as you do."

The sovereign huffs out a breath of a laugh. "That is the thing about being a father, Vax'ildan: the worry never ends." He sighs. "I will be letting you go, and then we will be discussing what happens from there. But first, I must make something quite plain to you, Vax'ildan." The sovereign enters the room further, bringing the torch close to Vax's face. The heat makes beads of sweat prickle along his hairline. "If you hurt her, if I get a moment's suspicion that your...intentions with her have been anything less than honorable, you will die a villain's death. Am I clear?"

Vax doesn't even blink. (There is no point in telling him that there is no we will, that he has no need to worry for the future, that soon, he will stop being the sovereign’s problem.) "Your Majesty, I have traded my very life for hers, and it is an exchange I would make again and again without hesitation."

The sovereign's eyes narrow, unsure if Vax is being literal or not. "Very well. She is resting in a suite in the guest wing. You may go to her now." He turns to leave the dank little cell, then stops, turns, and says, "You know, my father did not wish for me to wed Keyleth's mother." And with that, he sweeps out of the cell, and Vax is once again alone.

.

Keyleth stares up at the ceiling with a huff. Night has fallen, and still she lies alone, in chambers that are not hers. It has been several hours since her confrontation with her father; why hasn’t Vax been released yet? She is bone-tired, afflicted still by whatever strange magic struck her last night, and Pike has advised her to rest—all she has been doing is resting, she is so very tired of resting—but how is she meant to sleep when her husband’s fate is unknown?

Groaning in frustration, she swings her legs off of the bed and pads over to the window, where she watches the low moon beginning its crest through the inky blue sky. Her body is sore, as though she is a dishcloth that has been wrung out and hung to dry, but lying down feels too passive. She is tired and agitated and worried and angry and she just wants her husband.

She leans against the window, the cool glass soothing against her cheek, and her eyes slide closed. She can feel herself starting to drift off when a loud creak from behind startles her. She whips around to see the door to the room cracked open, a familiar face hesitantly peering inside.

“Vax!” She hurls herself across the room, throwing her arms around his neck with a gasp of relief as he just enters the chamber.

He catches her with a small laugh, pulling her in close. “You should be in bed.” He pulls away, putting his hands on either side of her face to inspect her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she insists, and she is, now that he is here and alive. “What of you? Your leg—you were hurt—“

She looks down to where she remembers seeing cracked, blackened flesh, but he has changed clothes since last night, so there is no more gaping hole in his trousers. He shakes his leg like a dog. "Completely fine. I've just been to see Mistress Pike; she finished your incredible work."

"And my father? Have you...did he speak with you?"

Vax takes her by the hand and pulls her over to her little sofa. "We spoke, yes. He came to release me personally." Keyleth worries her lip between her teeth. "We...have come to something of an understanding."

Keyleth waits for elaboration, but none comes. She tips her head onto his shoulder. "I am glad you are here with me. I know my father is still not pleased with what we've done, and it will take time for us to earn his trust again. But we have time now, and I promise, he will grow to love you as I have."

Vax doesn't answer, merely wraps his arms around her and tips his head atop hers. Now that he is here and she is enveloped in his embrace, his scent, she is once again reminded of her profound fatigue. She plays gently with the fingers of one of his hands. "Would you mind terribly if we went to bed? I'm still trying to sleep off last night's terrors."

There's a brief hesitation, and then Vax kisses her atop her head and murmurs, "Of course." He stands, pulling her up with him. He smiles teasingly. "Now I do hope this is not an attempt to seduce me, my beautiful wife. I will not be beguiled into distracting you from sleep."

She kisses him, a long, languorous kiss that loosens her body all the way down to her toes. "I shall try to behave myself," she quips back. Then she tugs him toward the bed, toward sleep, toward peace.

.

Vax is awake. He has been since Keyleth laid him down, curled up atop his chest like a cat, and fell asleep. He, too, is exhausted, can feel his eyelids yearning to close, but how is he meant to sleep when each passing moment brings him closer to his last? How is he meant to close his eyes and miss his final minutes with her, this woman who has so sensationally changed his life?

He knows he should have told her. He had the opportunity, the responsibility to let her know what was coming for her, but it is against his every instinct to do the thing that brings her pain. He should be the one to dry her tears, to remind her that she was a force of nature before him and she will be once he is gone, to give her a final kiss that contains within it all of the promises he had ever hoped to keep for her.

Instead, he lays here, in the still of night, stroking her hair and watching the dance of her eyes behind their lids. He wonders what she dreams of, if she is haunted by the ghosts of last night's attack or if she has imagined for herself a brighter day, one in which they are together and the shadows of this world cannot touch her joy.

He is a selfish man, and he has stolen from her her final moments with her husband in order to watch her sleep, to let the last image of her in his mind be one of peace, of quiet, of her and him and the moon's descent toward the horizon. He knows he will have to answer for his crimes once he belongs to the Raven Queen, and he will accept his punishment gladly, for there is nowhere on this realm of mortality he would rather take his final breaths than here, in this bed, with this woman, on this late summer's night.

[casspurrjoybell-30]

Cry Me a River - Chapter 31 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

The Man in Black

My feet tapped against hardwood as we came to a large door.

Anna knocked loudly, standing still until the door flung open, a group of men in dirt-covered clothes greeted us.

'The servant quarters? '

"Yes, Anna?" one of the men spoke, rubbing at his shoulder.

"Do you think anyone might have a pair of shoes that would fit him?"

She waved her hand in my direction.

'She's talking to the servants so normally. Almost like a friend does to another.'

"Hmm," the man turned from the door and peered into the room.

"Tom."

A young boy came running, brown curls going in all directions as he sped towards the older man and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"Tom looks about his size," the older man said, the boy peered up at him through quizzical eyes.

"Lend him a pair of shoes, eh?"

The boy looked at me through curious eyes before running back into the room.

Before I could say anything the boy came running back out and shoved a pair of brown boots into my arms.

"Here."

I peered from the boots to him.

"Thank you," I said softly.

The boy's eyes lit up as a warming smile graced his lips.

"You're very beautiful when you smile."

My cheeks heated up

"T-thank y-you," I stuttered out.

"You're welcome," he chirped.

Anna took my hand and pulled me from the door.

"Thanks," she called behind her.

A series of whispers could be heard behind us as Anna walked at a speedy pace, though I couldn't quite catch many words besides 'mate' and 'majesty'.

Anna gushed about where she was taking me the entire walk from the servants' quarters to the entrance of the estate.

I didn't quite pay attention, even as we stepped into the carriage, all that plagued my mind were thoughts of the young lad that had lent me the boots.

He was so young.

I hadn't known there were children who lived along with the servants.

Perhaps it was naive of me to think there would be a special room set aside for the younger children.

I was going to bring this up with Alastair later.

*

I felt the wind brush gently across my cheek like a soft caress as the hustle and bustle of townsmen swept by me.

The loud shouts of shopkeepers could be heard through the sounds of screaming children and the soft padding of hooves.

I had never seen so many horses in one place as men traveled by horseback across the marketplace.

"We just got a new shipment from Egypt," Anna explained as my eyes roamed the many horses.

"Even the commoners here can afford them?"

'In my town, only those of high standing could ever dream of owning something of such prestige.'

Anna laughed before turning to a chatty stand owner.

She picked up a gem-laced bracelet, dangling it in her hand as she spoke with a wide smile.

My eyes roamed.

The market was much more different than what I was used to.

It was smaller, less colorful and the people here seemed to be of higher standing.

My eyes locked on a man in the distance.

His dark wear stood out in the herd of browns and beiges.

A long, angry scar ran down his right cheek in an animalistic fashion.

It looked as if he had attacked by a wild boar and had survived to tell the tale.

Before I knew it, I found myself approaching him.

I wanted to talk to him.

Ask his tale.

Perhaps he was a knight or a warrior.

A man bumped harshly against my shoulder, almost knocking me to the ground.

My hands locked against my knee caps, blocking me from face planting against the hard stoned path.

I gasped, steadying myself.

My eyes widened as my eyes searched the crowd.

Where did the man go?

My head turned to and through, eyes squinted as I searched for the black figure.

Finally, my eyes locked on a black figure sweeping past a stoned corner.

A voice in my head screamed, demanded I turn around but my curiosity got the best of me.

I'd just peek, I told myself, just a minuscule glimpse.

I rushed past the corner, stopping in my tracks as I saw a group of black-cloaked men surrounded the man.

I hid behind a nearby alleyway, back pressed against the hard stone as my ears picked up at the loud shouting.

"Where are they?"

"We found their bodies by an abandoned carriage."

My eyes widened.

"Where they attacked?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

A growl resounded.

"Who?"

"We don't..."

Silence.

My ears perked up, awaiting a sound that never came.

"Come out."

My brows scrunched in confusion.

"You, in the alleyway."

My face paled.

Oh Goddess. How...how did they know I was here? I could've sworn I didn't make a sound.

I stood, frozen in place as I broke out in a cold sweat. I wasn't sure what to do, so I did what I always do.

RUN.

I pivoted on my heels, running as fast as my short legs could take me.

Faster. Faster.

I felt my body hit a hard, solid form.

My hands went to my head.

Eyes peering up as my eyes locked on a pair of dark, narrowed eyes.

A pair of large, calloused hands locked on my shoulders and pushed me harshly against the wall.

I whimpered as the sound of bone against stone filled the small alleyway.

Tears began to peek from the edges of my eyes, shaking hands landed on his arms as they attempted to pry his harsh hold from my arms.

The man bent down, cracked lips against my shaking form.

A loud, bellowing laugh escaped his throat as his vile breath swept against my cheeks.

A shiver ran down my spine as his lips brushed against my earlobe.

"There's no escaping me, little one."

[poppywrites41]

Captive Love Ch. 4

Hello. Yes. I am alive and I am so sorry I have not posted. I have been so busy and have not had time to sit down and write but I now have a little bit of time to writs so I popped this chapter out. 

I hope you all enjoy and please please please leave feedback!💜

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS. This fic does NOT represent the boys is ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM.

also: MINORS GTFO

Warnings for this chapter: noncon fingering, public fingering, swearing(? I can’t remember what I wrote to be honest I did this at 2 am lmao) and anything else I missed

If you are uncomfortable with noncon, then i sadly suggest you leave this fic alone.

Prev | Next

Y/N rushed back to the servant’s house and locked herself in her room. Heart beating a million miles a minute, she slumped to the ground and cried. “Why did I do that?!” she sobbed, “Now the princes will be keeping their eyes on me…” All the poor girl could do was cry until she fell asleep.

The next morning, Y/N was jolted from her sleep when she heard a knock at her door. Fearing that it could be Lilith about to throw a fit as to why she wasn’t working or worse, Jungkook, she shrunk back further into her room.

“Y/N” the voice of Emily said from the other side of the door, “are you alright love?” Y/N let out a huge sigh of relief at hearing her friend’s voice. “E-Emily!” she said. “Can you let me in love?” Emily asked. Standing on wobbly legs, Y/N opened her door revealing Emily, Elizabeth and the girl she recognized as the one Jungkook was about to humiliate.

“Oh Y/N! You’re alright! Are you alright?! Did they do anything to you?!” Emily cries out as she begins inspecting her. “I-I’m fine! Really. How did you-” “Maria told us what happened” Elizabeth said gesturing to the girl.

The girl ran to Y/N and gave her a big hug, “Thank you miss! Thank you for saving me. I am so sorry for causing you trouble…”

“It’s alright really,” Y/N told her, rubbing the girls back to comfort her, “I spoke with Prince Yoongi, and he let us off with a warning, but that he will not give us another.”

“What happened after Maria left?” Emily inquired.

Y/N took a breath and told them what happened. However, once she finished her story, it was time to work. As Y/N got ready she feared what would happen if she ran into the princes again.

Luckily, Y/N, Elizabeth and Emily were assigned to cleaning all the dishware in the kitchen, far away from the princes, which brought all of them some peace…

_________________________________________________________

Yoongi couldn’t focus on his book all day. All he could think about was that “stupid servant girl” as he told himself. He could not for the life of him find a reason to justify his actions on releasing her from punishment. He loved giving punishments! So why… He hasn’t seen the girl all day and it was starting to bug him for some reason. Did she skip work? Now that was a good reason to punish her. But that would be odd just going out of his way to find a specific servant to punish. It would definitely capture the attention of his brothers. Had she gotten in trouble with one of his brothers? Had she-

“Oh brother!” Jungkook said barging into his room with a big smile, “I wish I was there to see it! Next time I hope to partake in the event. I can just imagine her screams… Oh I bet they were lovely! Was her skin smooth before you tore it up?? Oh, how I wish I could have felt it before she was marred…”

“All women’s backs are the same Jungkook. Smooth.” Yoongi retorts.

“Not all of them brother,” the younger huffed, “That maid was exceptionally beautiful. Could have passed as a daughter of a lord if you ask me.”

“Well,” Yoongi huffed, “it’s over with and she has learned her mistake.”

The youngest brother hummed as he paced around his older brother’s bedroom.

Yoongi closed his book with a sigh of annoyance, “What is it Kook?”

“It’s not fair you got the fun. Sure, hunting was fun…But I feel left out. Maybe I should push the girl into making another mistake so that I can take a turn with her!”

“Now why would you want that? You never mess with the servant girls to get them to mess up.”

“I know. They usually just accept whatever happens. But this girl brother, she’s different. She has fight and that intrigues me. I want to break her.” The youngest brother smirks deviously.

“Jungkook-” Yoongi stops his snap back at his younger brother. He cannot let them see that he wants to protect her. He waves his hand and gets up to walk to the door, “Don’t be stupid. There are plenty of women more worthy of your time than her. She’s just a rat. The gala is starting. Mother and Father are expecting us.”

Yoongi left for the dining room leaving Jungkook to his own thoughts.

_________________________________________________________

Once their chores were finished the girls were given some time to rest before serving dinner to the guests. So they all went to Y/N’s room to finish what they were talking about that morning.

“Well!” Elizabeth sighs sitting on the bed, “I’ve never heard of the princes letting a servant off the hook, let alone Prince Yoongi. He especially never lets anyone go unpunished.”

“Do you think he wasn’t in the mood?” Emily asked.

“No,” Elizabeth said, “He is always in the mood to punish. This is strange. Why would he…”

“Well, he still did threaten me with a ‘next time’ but I think he’s not all that bad as what others make him out to be.” Y/N said nervously.

“Oh no hun! There must be an ulterior motive. Now Jungkook is not as bad of a threat as Yoongi, so you definitely need to steer clear of any more interactions between any of the princes. Just do your job and do it well to avoid any more unfortunate events.” She said with a worried face.

Before anyone could respond, the bell rang throughout the quarters.

“Well, it’s time for dinner to be served to the family and their guests. Let’s go ladies and remember,” she said to all of them but looking at Y/N, “do your job and lay low.”

“Alright ladies! It’s almost time to begin the dinner. You all know your roles so grab your platter or pitcher and get out to the floor! I do NOT want any accidents tonight!” Lilith said.

Everyone began moving and grabbing platters of elegantly arranged foods and large pitchers of wine, ale and water.

Y/N looked at Emily and sighed as she was one of the girls who would serve wine to the guests.

Emily squeezed her arm, “It’ll be alright Y/N. There are so many girls serving drinks so hopefully you won’t be near the royal family.

“I hope” Y/N sighed and made her way to the hall.

_________________________________________________________

The dining hall was massive. All decorated with expensive paintings and golden decorative features. One long table seating up to 200 guests including the royal family at the end. The royal band playing softly as to not drown out to conversations happening at the table.

Y/N took a breath and made her way towards her guest filling their chalices with wine, not looking them in the eyes as to not taint their status with her inferiority.

The night was surprisingly going well, she had not had one interaction with a royal member. She was beginning to relax. Maybe tonight won’t turn out to be so bad. Everyone had finished the main course and it was almost time for Y/N’s 15-minute break. All she had to do was wait for an esteemed guest to tap their glass and she would refill it with the sweet wine she carried.

“More wine please!” a feminine voice called.

Y/N looked up towards the people she had been serving wine the entire night to only to see that no one at her end had asked for wine. She looked around in confusion until Lilith elbowed her in the side, “The Queen wants more wine girl.”

“T-The Q-Queen?” Y/N whispers.

“Yes!” Lilith hissed, “Rose is still on her break so just go fill her chalice! Go now!” she said shoving the poor girl towards the other end of the table.

‘That’s where the princes are!!’ Y/N screamed in her head.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Emily trying to get Elizabeth to take her place but Y/N kept walking towards the Queen’s seat.

“Ah finally!” the Queen laughed, “The wine is here! What took you so long girl?! Are we out of wine?”

Y/N did not know what to say. Her brain was malfunctioning. She had the word but couldn’t get them out in fear of saying something wrong.

“When the Queen addressed you, you respond servant!” a deep voice spoke.

Y/N flinched.

“Look at me girl.” The voice said again. Y/N looked up and into the glaring eyes of Prince Namjoon. “Are you mute girl?” Y/N shakes her head. “Are you dumb?” Y/N shakes her head.

“Words.”

“N-No your highness.” She said in a shaky voice her eyes finding Prince Yoongi’s piercing stare causing her to look down at the floor.

“Then answer the Queen.”

Y/N turned to the Queen with a bow, “A-Apologies your majesty. W-We are n-not out o-of wine.”

“Ah,” she said sliding her chalice withing Y/N’s reach to pour, “well the room is big and there is a lot of chatter so it must have been a little difficult to hear. I will let it slide, but I expect this to not happen again.”

“Y-Yes your majesty. T-Thank you.” Y/N bowed again.

She was about to turn back when she heard another voice that frightened her.

“I need a refill as well.”

Jungkook.

Legs shaking, Y/N turned and walked towards Jungkook’s seat. When she reached him, he pushed his glass further into the table beyond her reach.

“So sorry but I am still eating. You can grab it and refill yourself I hope?” he said giving her a smile that looked innocent but she, and Yoongi, knows the trouble behind it.

Y/N bowed her head and leaned over to get the glass, which was properly placed to where her bum was right next to the prince. As she clutched the glass, she felt a hand slip under her dress and rest on her thigh. She almost dropped the glass but let out a small gasp when the hand tightened on her.

“Pour the wine like that and do not move. Unless you want trouble.” Prince Jungkook said in a low voice. “And pour it slow.” He added.

Y/N shut her eyes to keep the tears from escaping and began to pour the wine slowly. Her eyes flew open when she felt a pinch on the inside of her thigh. “Open your eyes rabbit. Or you will spill, and it will be all over for you.” The youngest prince threatens.

Y/N opens her eyes slowly trying to keep the tears at bay, eyes focused on the glass.

“Slower.” The prince orders.

The trail of wine turns into a small trickle while the prince’s hand makes it to the girl’s panties.

Y/N stifles a sob when Jungkook’s hand rubs at the fabric, her face turning red. Once he finds her nub, he pinches it, causing her to give a silent gasp and a single tear.

They both stop what they are doing when they hear a clank of silverware against a plate. They look up to see Prince Yoongi staring at them with an unamused look. Y/N thought she saw anger in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure through her watery eyes.

She is snapped back to reality when she feels her panties being pulled to the side. She was even more horrified when she felt some slick disconnect from her panties. How did she get wet?

“You’re wet my sweet rabbit,” Jungkook chuckles as his fingers swirl around in her slick, “Why don’t you keep pouring my wine love? And look at my brother the whole time.”

“P-Please…” Y/N whispered, “P-Please d-don’t.”

“You want me to stop?” Jungkook whispered, “But you are so wet rabbit. It would be unfair.”

“But t-they-”

“Are too buzzed to notice, well except my brother right there. Let’s give him a show. Now pour. And no sounds.” He ordered, his hands beginning to rub her nub in circles.

Giving a silent whimper, she resumed her task whilst keeping eye contact with Yoongi, her eyes red and watery.

When Jungkook figured his fingers were slick enough, he slid a finger into her pussy. Both of them shuddered. One with fear and one with delight.

Y/N wanted to scream in pain while Jungkook almost came in his pants.

“My sweet rabbit, are you a virgin?” he whispered, earning himself a silent sob from the girl to confirm his suspicions, “Oh how fun! I’m your first fingerfuck.”

With that, he inserted a second finger earning himself a squeeze from her cunt and began pumping in a out. He looked at his brother and smirked, knowing that he was hard as well and began to pump faster.

Jungkook was in heaven. His fingers were being squeezed by the girl’s cunt. Oh, how he wished he could see her face. He then noticed that his wine glass was full, and that the girl was clutching the table liner. Jungkook looked around and noticed that no one noticed what was going on. They were all pretty much drunk except for him, Yoongi and the girl.

Jungkook then grabbed Y/N by the waist and pulled her into his lap and hiked up her skirt a bit more. The new angle allowed him to thrust his fingers deeper.

Y/N looked away to not face the other prince only to have her face turned towards Jungkook.

“Look at me rabbit,” he whispered, “I want to see your face when you come.”

Y/N opened her teary eyes to him and clenched his jacket as she felt something start to blossom in her. Jungkook immediately knew she was close and angled himself so that he and his older brother can see her come undone by the prince’s fingers.

Y/N began to cry and pull Jungkook’s hand away.

“N-No! Please s-stop…I-I can’t”

Jungkook was much stronger than her and kept going, relishing in how her thighs started grinding together.

“You will rabbit,” he whispered in her ear, “You will not refuse my gift of giving you pleasure. Now cum.”

Y/N felt her high come crashing down unwelcomed. She suddenly felt weak and fell back into the prince’s chest as she let out a choked sob. The prince pulled her skirt back in place, patted her arms and pushed her onto her feet, the poor girl breathing heavily and unstable.

“There you go. I hope you enjoyed that as much as we did!” He said with a smile, “Now back to work with you. Thank you for the drink rabbit.”

Y/N grabbed her pitcher with shaking hands and looked at prince as he took his fingers covered in her release and stuck them in his mouth, moaning in pleasure, “and thank you for the desert. Compliments to the chef!” he said with a wink.

Still crying, Y/N bowed to the prince and hurried off to the break room.

Jungkook chuckled and turned to his brother who had a tint of pink to his cheeks.

“She was cute, wasn’t she?” the youngest asked his older brother with a smile, “She’s a virgin brother! Her sweet release tasted like nothing I have ever had before. You must try it for yourself sometime brother!”

The older prince chugged his wine and nodded, “Interesting. She is an intrigues girl I must say. I will have to investigate more on her.”

“You mean ‘in’ her?” Jungkook smirks.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. He could not get that image of Y/N’s face when she came. She looked so beautiful so fragile. It made him want to break her. Want to punish her for cumming by Jungkook’s hand.

The want to break her, punish her, fuck her.

Once Y/N made it to the break room, Elizabeth and Emily were about to head back out to the feast to serve.

“Y/N!” Emily said, “How was the Queen? Was she mad? Did she punish- Oh my god! Are you alright!?” She begins to panic when she sees Y/N’s tear-stained face.

“Y/N, sweetie, is everything okay?” Elizabeth began, noticing Y/N was not focusing on anything in the room and that her eyes are blank.

Y/N started to have a panic attack. Her heart began to beat faster, her mind racing a million miles a minute, her vision began to blacken and her hearing was going in and out.

“Y/N…. hear me….Y/N!!.............help!.......You’re going…………..Y/N!!!”

Tags: @d-noona​

Please let me know if you want to be tagged!

[somewhatstacey]

Here have a queer retelling of Little Red Riding Hood

The forest is magnificent. Giant yew trees reach for the sky, their leaves sending dappled sunlight down toward the moss-covered floor like a parting gift. Even Shiloh can’t deny the majesty of the place, as much as she might have preferred the wood around her a little more dead, with four legs, and holding up a tankard of beer.

But alas, good things apparently come to those who wait. And wait. Shiloh sighs, pulling her pelt more securely around her as she shifts into a warmer patch of sunlight.

“Are you almost finished?” she asks. “It’s nearing dusk, my love.”

The nearest tree is a monster. As thick around as three broad men standing in a circle, arms outstretched, fingertip to fingertip. It hides Shiloh’s wife from view. Just.

When Kae rounds the trunk of the tree, she makes it look a fraction of its years just by virtue of the contrast.

“Almost,” Kae says, broad hands smoothing over the bark like she’s soothing a spooked horse. “The bairn is sick with heart rot, the poor thing. I need to shore her up before it gets worse.”

Shiloh can’t find it in herself to be annoyed. Kae’s described heart rot enough for her to have some sympathy for the poor tree. And it doesn’t hurt that seeing her wife full of care makes a puddle out of her.

“It’s a good thing I enjoy watching you work,” Shiloh says, unable to help her soft smile. “Because it’s all you do.”

Kae looks to her, sharing the smile for a moment before her eyes snap suddenly back to her charge.

Shiloh tenses on instinct. “What?”

Kae’s alert, but not reaching for her axe. Shiloh relaxes her hold on her pelt but keeps it in hand for swift action anyway.

“There’s a girl in the forest,” Kae says. “Small. Alone. The… the trees are agitated.”

“Over a girl?” Shiloh says, confusion reflected in the look Kae sends her. “That’s a new one.”

Kae turns her attention back to her patient. “I’m almost finished here, then we can-”

“I’ll go on ahead,” Shiloh says, stretching her back out as she stands. “I’ve been sitting too long anyway, I’m going to grow moss.”

Kae doesn’t pick up the thread of the joke, looking as agitated as the trees around her must be. “I don’t…”

“I’ll be okay,” Shiloh says, stepping forward to clasp her wife’s hand between hers. “I have my pelt. I’ll even take my wrap-”

“No,” Kae says quickly, stopping Shiloh with a hand on her wrist as she reaches for their pack. “Don’t wear red.”

Shiloh raises an eyebrow. “That’s not what you said the other night, my love.”

And oh yes, now who’s wearing red? Shiloh grins as she uses her grip to pull Kae within reach, pecking her on one rosey cheek.

“It’s the trees,” Kae says, brushing a strand of Shiloh’s dark hair from her face. “They’re saying, don’t wear red.”

“How judgemental of them,” Shiloh says, but leaves her red wrap safely in their pack anyway.

Tracking the girl isn’t difficult. She smells of hay and woodsmoke, a combination that is as much out of place as her humanity this far into the woods. Shiloh hangs back, employing more caution than she would have otherwise, her wife’s worried frown at the fore of her mind.

The girl is indeed alone. Shiloh closes the distance between them until she can spy the girl’s back through the trees. Her hooded cloak is flapping around her ankles as she walks.

Her hooded red cloak.

Shiloh frowns and ups her pace, circling around the girl on soft feet until she finds a clearing up ahead with a downed tree to serve as a casual perch. The girl comes upon her bare minutes later, startling to a stop despite Shiloh’s deliberate, friendly smile and unassuming posture. Unfortunately there’s little she can do about her state of dress.

The girl can’t be older than seven summers, blonde hair tufting out of her hood as curious eyes look Shiloh over. Shiloh doesn’t blame her. She’s an unusual sight at the best of times.

Finally the girl breaks the silence. “Why are you naked?”

The bluntness of the question stirs a real smile to Shiloh’s features. “I’m not naked,” she says. “I’ve this pelt.”

The girl frowns at Shiloh’s wolf pelt, twisted about her in an approximation of a tunic. “It’s not very big.”

She’s not wrong. But then… Shiloh rises to her feet – carefully,  so as not to spook the girl further. “It doesn’t have to be.”

The little girl watches her like one might watch a particularly interesting snake on one’s path. Cautious. Cautious but curious. Shiloh knows the sort. She sees it in the mirror those mornings Kae lets them hire a real room.

“What are you doing in the woods alone, child?” Shiloh says.

The girl rises to her full height, like she’s being inspected by someone with a badge. “I’m visiting The Grandmother,” she says, practically pronouncing the capital ‘T’.

Strange. Usually the trees warn Kae of any human settlements in the woods they travel. Kae’s parentage and Shiloh’s proclivity for travelling skyclad make chance meetings with humans something to be avoided.

“And where does she live?” Shiloh asks.

The little girl points along the direction she’s been travelling, deeper into the woods. “I’m to follow the sun to her cottage,” she says.

Right. Shiloh hums as she thinks. Kae isn’t far off and almost finished her tree-doctoring by her own admittance. She will catch up when she can. “May I walk with you, child?” Shiloh asks. “I’d feel much better knowing you got there safe, is all.”

After a lengthy pause, the girl nods, which is for the best really. It’s much easier to walk by her side than track her from behind.

The girl’s name is Scarlett.

“That’s an interesting name,” Shiloh says, the red of Scarlett’s cloak growing more vivid in Shiloh’s peripheral vision.

Scarlett shrugs. “Not really. There are lots of girls named Scarlett in the village.”

“Is that right?” Shiloh says, feeling more and more like she has a handful of puzzle pieces but no interlocking edges to fit them together.

They come upon the cottage as the sun kisses the distant mountains, sending the woods into an early dusk. Shiloh’s mildly put out when she notices how perfectly normal the place looks. The gardens are well-tended and the stoop swept. There’s even a cheerful glow warming the windows.

“This looks like the place,” Shiloh says, sweeping the clearing for something to explain the slow drip of dread down her spine.

Scarlett huffs a sigh next to her. She’d taken Shiloh’s hand not long into their walk and her little palm is warm and soft in Shiloh’s own.

“I guess so,” Scarlett says.

“You guess so?” Shiloh says, eye catching on a large shadow moving within the cottage. “You’ve never visited your grandmother before?”

“The Grandmother,” Scarlett corrects her. “And no.”

She says it like it’s the most normal thing in the world, but as Shiloh looks down at her, the red of her cloak seeming to glow in the darkness, she can’t help but think the situation is the very furthest from normal they can get.

“Is that visitors I hear?” Comes a voice from within the cottage. Shiloh looks up as the shadow in the cottage window moves toward the door. It gets smaller as it goes which is a funny thing, because Shiloh could swear it’s moving toward the light source…

The shadow is bare steps from the door when Shiloh gives an exaggerated shiver.

“Are you cold?” Scarlett asks.

“Yes,” Shiloh says quickly. “I’m afraid I didn’t think ahead. Might I borrow your cloak, child?”

Scarlett looks torn. “I was told not to-”

“Only for a minute or two,” Shiloh says, over the creak of the door. “I promise.”

“Okay…”

Shiloh whips the cloak from Scarlett’s shoulders and about her own just in time to face the figure in the doorway who-

Is a little, old woman.

Shiloh balks at the sight, eyes warring with every other instinct telling her to run, fight, hide. Shift.

The Grandmother smiles. Her face is like a weathered peach and her hands look frail as spider’s silk. They clasp and unclasp in front of her, the only tell that she too feels the tension that’s fallen on the clearing like a woollen blanket.

“Where are you, my child?” The Grandmother asks, peering across the clearing. “Come closer, I’m afraid my eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

Scarlett is stepping forward before Shiloh can move to stop her, small hand leaving only a warm imprint on Shiloh’s palm as she lets go.

“Ah, there you are,” The Grandmother says, with a smile warm like home. “I see you now.”

Only she doesn’t. As Scarlett walks toward The Grandmother, the old woman’s eyes, suddenly sharp and shrewd, remain fixed on Shiloh. No, she thinks as she steps forward and the cloak flares out. Her eyes are on the cloak.

Don’t wear red.

“Scarlett,” Shiloh calls, pulling the cloak from her shoulders. The Grandmother’s eyes follow it’s rustle like a hawk as the fabric hits the grass.

Scarlett stops and turns back. And The Grandmother’s shadow starts to grow.

“Scarlett, run!”

Shiloh doesn’t wait for the girl to obey, simply grabs for her pelt, reaches down deep and pulls. Scarlett screams and tumbles backward as Shiloh flies at her which makes leaping the girl an easy feat. She’s only half shifted when she hits The Grandmother’s charge but it’ll do. She’s got her teeth at least.

The Grandmother is easily the breadth of Kae’s yew patient and growing, but her skin, turning green and sickly by the minute, is easy enough to tear through. She bleeds. That’s the important thing.

Anything that bleeds can die, in Shiloh’s experience.

She’s fully shifted by the time The Grandmother hauls her back by her scruff and rakes jagged claws across her furred ribs. Lucky, Shiloh thinks as she hits the ground. She doesn’t think she’d have survived it in her human form.

Shiloh rolls to her feet and snarls. Her mouth tastes of copper and she can feel something sticky on her flank but the fight is a singing, beautiful thing in her blood. She might go down but she’ll give Scarlett enough time to put distance between herself and this… whatever this is.

The Grandmother’s skin seems to boil, lending her silhouette against the rising moon an air of gut-churning horror. Which is nothing to the sight of Scarlett behind the monster, branch raised like a club. Like she’s going to fell the beast with a stick.

Scarlett lets out a warrior’s roar as she brings the branch down and-

Nothing. It breaks on The Grandmother’s writhing back like so much driftwood. Scarlett goes from heroic to trembling in a bare moment and then The Grandmother is turning. Shiloh’s paws dig large grooves in the earth as she launches herself forward – she’s never moved so fast.

The axe moves faster.

Likely because it was hurled by a half-giantess.

The Grandmother’s skull cleaves like a ripe melon and Shiloh uses her forward momentum to barrel Scarlett out of the path of the monster’s falling carcass.

And then, silence.

Shiloh uncurls with a wince to find Scarlett unhurt if a bit squished under her bulk. She wasn’t kidding when she said her pelt needn’t be big. She’s a hulking wolf no matter the size of her talisman.

“Damn you, wife! You’d best not be dead!”

Scarlett’s eyes are round as the moon rising over them, flicking panicked from Shiloh’s less-than-reassuring countenance to the giantess bearing down on them. Shiloh can’t help but snort a laugh as she shifts back to her human form, pulling herself off the child as she goes.

“It’s okay, Scarlett,” she says. “This is my wife, Kae.”

“This is your widow more like!” Kae says, picking Shiloh up with one big hand to set about inspecting her wounds. “Because I’m going to kill you for that fright you just gave me!”

Shiloh endures the inspection, mostly because she’s had a lot of practice. “My love, you’re frightening the child.”

Scarlett seems to take that as a challenge, climbing rapidly to her feet. “I ain’t frightened!”

Shiloh kisses Kae’s palm on its way to pawing at her scalp to check for head wounds and sighs. “Yes, I could see that. What part of ‘run’ didn’t you understand?”

“The part where you were in trouble,” Scarlett says, chin jutting out stubbornly.

“Oh I like her,” Kae says, seemingly having satisfied herself that Shiloh isn’t going to keel over dead any time soon.

Shiloh rolls her eyes. “Of course you do.”

Silence falls on the three of them once more as their attention turns to the hulking corpse of The Grandmother.

Scarlett breaks it. “They sent me here to get et, didn’t they?”

Shiloh, who was behind the door when the Gods handed out artifice, says, “Yes, my girl, I think they did.”

Scarlett takes this news with the sort of stoicism that’s likely going to require a lot of crying at some point later. “I’d like to not go back,” she says, finally.

Shiloh doesn’t say anything, simply exchanges a long look with her wife. And then she holds out her hand.

One year later, the village drapes another little girl named Scarlett in red and sends her into the woods. Four hours later, she comes back.

FIN

Patreon | Goddammitstacey.com

[jishyucks]

Me and You Against the World ‣ hjs

‣ genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage, female reader, pls read an!

‣ wc: 4.7k

‣ summary: "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you…"; in which you don't let the words of others get in the way of your relationship with Jisung

‣ warnings?: Itzy is mean in this (but it doesn't reflect how they are irl!), prejudice due to less wealth, lots of thinking

‣ an: These events are what leads to this fic but in a different 'era.' Basically, I decided to just write the ending of this fic in a rich kid au setting instead of a royal au setting and just post that,,, but since I already wrote a lot of it, I decided to post it! It can be read separately but this doesn't have a proper ending.

i.

You can vividly remember the reactions of all the other princesses when they found out you were arranged to marry none other than Prince Han Jisung. They snickered and laughed. They blatantly shared pitiful glances, taking turns to pat your shoulder as if it could bring you a sense of comfort.

Of course, at the growing age of fourteen, you had no idea why they had been acting as so. From images and stories you received of the Prince, he seemed like someone who would be easy to get along with. So why the judgmental looks?

"They're the poorest of all the kingdoms, Y/N," Yeji pointed out, "Your kingdom is one of the richest, of course, after mine. Don't you think that's rather odd?" She traced the laces of her gloves and scoffed discourteously.

You bring the teacup up to your mouth, eyeing your friend curiously, "What do you mean by that?" You gulped, afraid that the image of your family name would be stained. It was not your choice, however, nor your parents'. You had been drawn to be last when choosing a suitor, and naturally, from the apparent reputation and wealth of the Han family, their son was the last left to be selected.

Yeji scoffed, the other princesses laughing at how naive you've been acting, "Obviously, their family's going to leech off of your family. I think your parents should rethink their decision of choosing Han Jisung as your future husband."

Shaking your head, you frowned at the meaningless words that your friend had been spitting out, "I don't think that's needed… Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out? How bad can Han Jisung be?”

Lia finally speaks up, "I heard that he rolls around the mud with their pigs."

"And… he doesn't even take a bath after doing so," Yuna budges in. She stirred the cooling tea with a miniature spoon, a smirk rising up to her lips, "Imagine how his bed smells. Rancid."

"I hear he's poor-mannered, too… that he lacks the respect a prince should need towards others," Ryujin says stiffly, "Just generally not fit to be a king. I feel bad for you, Y/N."

There was a brief silence between the six of you, the sound of Yuna's spoon tapping the sides of the cup occupying that silence. Though you felt yourself frown at the possibility that you were to be married to an ill-mannered prince, you quickly shook those thoughts out and tried your best to ignore them. You were taught never to be driven towards believing rumours or gossip in this case. Who were they to judge someone they never met? Except for Yeji, who met him through her brother.

"I ask you all not to pity me in any sort," you finally say, "Not until I've met him. Besides… those are just rumours. He could be much better than you hear." Satisfied with how you handled the situation, you straightened your back and took a long sip of your tea, mentally preparing yourself for your first meeting with the Prince.

—

Upon arriving at the valley region, the kingdom owned by the Han's, you immediately understand why your parents settled with their son. Though you were last to choose your suitor, your parents and his parents seemed to be closely acquainted, smiles on their faces and direct contact as they greeted each other. You stood back, watching the exchange begin and end, rather amused at how happy both sets of parents looked.

"I'm so happy you all arrived safely," the Queen of the valley region clasped her hands. The King nodded and let his wife continue, "And I'm so glad that our children are to be married by chance… All the other young princesses chose, while you–" She looked over your mother's shoulder and at you, "You and my precious son fell into this arrangement by fate's doing! The world wanted this."

Your mother responded by smiling fondly, "I never viewed the situation like that!" They begin to move up the stairs towards the front entryway, the knights moving along the four majesties. You followed closely behind, listening in on the conversation as you let your eyes wander around. "My mother had been upset that Y/N fell last, telling me I would not be able to choose the best," your mother began, "But I don't see any problem with that."

Compared to other castles you've visited, you could definitely see how much wealth the Hans did have. It was still very much a beautiful castle. It was well-kept and unique in build. Something drew you to it. But you couldn't exactly point out what part of it did.

"I understand your mother's perspective," the King chuckled, "No one likes being last. However, I believe that in such matter, no one is stuck with the 'worst.'"

At this point, everyone had entered the castle, and this was when you could see that the Hans were, in fact, less wealthy than the other royal families. Much of the furniture and interior decorations were quite old, almost antique, but again, it was a feature of the castle that drew you in. The outside of the castle looked much larger than the interior.

"Ah! I almost forgot," the Queen turned to look at your family, "My son is out and about exploring. We instructed him to come in time to greet you guys at the entrance but boys his age never listen." At the mention of Jisung, you almost forgot about him, causing your curiosity to rise.

"Miss Kim?"

A lady appeared from another room, hurriedly approaching the Queen with a bow, "Yes, your majesty?"

"Please escort Princess Y/N to Prince Jisung," she instructed gently, "It will be nice for them to get acquainted while we continue with our conversation about this arrangement."

Miss Kim nodded and waved you over with a motherly smile, "Let us go, Princess." You quickly bid your parents goodbye before trailing behind Miss Kim. Though her legs were short, she moved with ease, almost flying down the corridor with a constant speed. She didn't look back to see if you had still been following her as your footsteps helped her indicate your presence.

"I suspect the Prince is somewhere by the garden," she mutters urgently, "Or by the river."

"River?" you questioned. The idea of a river caused you to smile. Your family ruled the mountain region, meaning there were not many rivers to visit. A river would be a nice change in scenery. Miss Kim finally leads you out of the back of the castle, the sight of flowers taking over your line of sight.

"Prince Jisung?" she called out, "Prince Jisung?" It was rather enjoyable seeing Miss Kim run around frantically in search of the Prince. Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had with other princesses, how the Prince is ill-mannered, one who was not fit to be a king. With his absence in greeting you and your family, you're afraid that the other princesses were actually correct with this information.

"I'm over here, Miss Kim!" a voice called out, "By the pond!"

Once again, Miss Kim waved for you to follow you. You hiked up your dress and tried your best to keep up with her speed, though she still kept the same pace she previously had. She walked straight down the stone path, turning right onto another pathway, and then left, finally revealing a beautifully decorated pond.

"Ah, there you are, my prince!" Miss Kim had been blocking your view of the third presence, marching towards the pond. You let her move ahead, allowing her to approach the Prince on her own, "The Y/L/Ns are here… your mother strictly told you that you should be there to greet them."

Still a voice with no face, you hear him reply, "I'm sorry, I lost track of time… I'm feeding the fish!" There was a moment of silence as the Prince went to stand up, finally revealing the frame of his body to you. He turns to face your direction. His head was kept down as he dusted off the dirt from his pants.

"Do I have time to chan–" The Prince finally noticed you standing yards away from him and Miss Kim, causing him to halt abruptly in his words, "–ge?"

"Your parents have ordered for you two to get acquainted," Miss Kim stated, "I assume I will be the one to call you both shortly for dinner." At this, she turns to hurry back, leaving you and the Prince alone.

He bows stiffly, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jisung."

He bowed… that's a good indication of manners, right? You curtsy, "I'm Y/N."

"I know who you are," he says happily, beginning to walk back towards the main path. You follow, "You know they call you the 'Snow Princess' here? Which I don't understand because the mountains aren't always filled with snow." He looks back to see if you followed him, "Do you mind if we drop our titles with each other? We are at the same standing."

"I don't mind," you replied. You're taken aback at his apparent tendency to talk, "We are arranged to marry in a few years…."

"Well, Y/N," he begins, a bright smile on his face, "How should we begin?"

You watch as he advances forward, hands swinging carelessly, something you were taught never to do. As a princess, you were taught to cross your hands in front of you to give you a poised appearance. Jisung had a hop in his step, his posture could be straighter, and his hair was unkempt. You could already say that Yeji's brother, Hyunjin, was probably the opposite of Jisung. He kept himself tidy, he came on time to schedules and never interrupted when another was speaking. This is perhaps what Ryujin meant when she said Jisung was not fit for a king.

"How do you like to spend your time?" You questioned. You figured that this was a way to start a conversation, hoping that it would blossom into another.

Jisung hummed in thought, "If I'm not doing my studies or sleeping, I tend to spend my time here… just deep in thought." He raised his arms, presenting the garden to you.

"You don't go horseback riding? How about practicing swordsmanship?"

He shrugs, "We're short on horses right now, and my father is prioritizing the knights with the horses since they need it. As for swordsmanship, my mother wants me to wait until I'm older."

Short on horses?

"Ahhh, I understand," you nodded awkwardly, "If you ever come to my kingdom, I'll take you horseback riding! You seem like the person who would love doing it."

This sparks a feeling of joy in Jisung, a smile reflecting it, "That would be really nice! I'll look forward to that." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "How about you? How do you spend your time?"

"I do studies, like you… I read, visit the village. Horseback riding, of course… suddenly I can't think once I'm asked," you laughed, "But I'm often very active and doing my duties."

"Your life sounds a lot more interesting than mine," he grins, trying to laugh the sad reality off, "It's evident in the way you can't even list all of your activities." You could see his smile start to falter, bangs falling over his forehead as he looked down at his feet.

You feel your heart stutter, and soon you're frowning. The words you had told the other princesses echoed in your head. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out?

Reaching out, you grab ahold of his wrist. At the sudden contact, he flinched slightly before relaxing at the realization, "You're still happy, aren't you?"

He nods gently, still dwelling on the fact that even though you both stood at the same social standing, his wealth didn't amount to yours, and he couldn't help but be embarrassed. He couldn't help but feel bad you were stuck with him as a future husband when it was quite obvious you could do better.

"Then that's what matters," you say. A part of you wanted to tell him not to compare his life to others, but you stopped yourself, refraining from creating emphasis on your wealth and his supposed slight lack of it.

At your exchange of glances and sympathetic smiles, the footsteps of Miss Kim grew closer. Looking over, you see as she's waving you both over for dinner. Jisung nodded and held up a thumbs up to indicate that you both were going to follow, sending Miss Kim back to tend to the meal.

Jisung turns to once more, "Thank you, Y/N. I'll live by that."

–

"So?"

Yeji, Hyunjin, and Lia sat around the table, eyeing you as if you owed them something of great importance. You stared back at them, straightening your back as you become aware of the attention on you.

"Pardon?" What is it that you needed to tell them? You didn't recall promising them any sort of information, nor did you have news to pass on.

"How was your visit to the valley region?" Lia questioned, "Was it all as they say it was?"

Yeji leaned towards you, "And Prince Jisung? Was he ill-mannered?"

You mentally bring a hand to your forehead, comprehending what it was they were expecting from you. You assume they wanted you to traduce the Han family and their kingdom. But despite the obvious difference in wealth they had from the rest of the kingdoms and the fact that Jisung lacked the training he needed as a prince, you found no problems in the Han family.

"Their castle was unique," you begin, "It was beautiful, actually." You use a fork to poke into the sliced fruit laid out on a plate, bringing it to your mouth as you wait for their reactions. As anticipated, puzzled looks rose up onto their faces, rather confused about your comment. You continue, "The interior was beautiful as well. Not as extravagant as the Hwang family's castle, but it was still a sight to look at. It was adorned with flowers.

"As for Prince Jisung," you could feel some sense of protection over him, biting back your tongue from saying rude things to those in front of you, "He's just as much a prince as Hyunjin. He's playful and carefree, is all. So I hope you all should refrain from listening to the gossip being spread about the Han family, especially since they're going to be part of my family in the future." The three of them sat back and nodded. You wished you could laugh at the embarrassed and apologetic looks on their faces, but to their eyes, that would not be very polite of you.

ii.

It wasn't until two years later that Jisung had been actually able to visit your kingdom. Though you did enjoy visiting his kingdom and enjoying the change in scenery, having him come to yours was something you had wished for ever since you met him.

Over the past two years of getting to know each other, you had grown much closer than you initially expected. Jisung had a view on life that contrasted to yours in more ways than one, and learning of the different perspectives of the world allowed you to adopt an open mind. You believe that he made you a better princess and future Queen.

Likewise, Jisung has been able to get a taste of what a typical royal life is like through you. Though his family was still able to experience the everyday duties and privilege of being royalty, there were limitations when it came to his position. Through you, he could at least understand what other things were expected of him. As he grew physically, he grew mentally, learning to appear princely in front of others without completely stripping the playful personality he had around those close to him.

Regardless of what others did say about the Han family, the relationship between you both worked well in all sorts of ways. You would always think about what Jisung's mother had told your parents, how you both were brought together by fate, and in that sense, you guys were meant to be partners.

"Ready to ride horses?" You had a mischievous grin on your face as you pulled the boy behind you.

"Why are you smiling as if the horses could kill me?" Jisung eyed you suspiciously, genuinely afraid of what could happen next. He stumbled over his own feet as he followed you, scared yet excited.

You laughed, "I mean, they can, but they won't."

The two of you finally arrived at the stable, catching Seungmin placing the saddles onto the horses. He greeted you and Jisung with a bow before speeding up in doing his task.

"I promise you, I won't let you get hurt in any way," you say. You asked Seungmin to bring the horse out for Jisung, who refused to guide the horse without experience, "You'll get the hang of it. Watch me get on and do the same."

He nods, listening to every single syllable of your words. Setting your left foot onto the stirrup, you grab hold of the saddle and heave yourself up after a couple of bounces on your right foot. You swing your leg over your horse, Blizz, with ease, quickly making yourself comfortable on the horse.

"That… that can't be too hard…." Jisung muttered. He mirrors what you previously did, setting his foot onto the stirrup and grabbing hold of the top of the saddle. You watched as he bounces countlessly on his right foot, unable to find the right time to pull himself up.

"Do you need help, Prince Jisung?" Seungmin questioned. You almost forgot that he was standing aside because of how amused you had grown in watching Jisung.

Jisung shook his head, mentally shooing Seungmin away as he finally times everything right and heaves himself up. Forgetting to throw his leg over the horse's, Buran, body, for a brief moment, Jisung's body had been doing over the horse, hovering as his foot stuck to the stirrup.

"Sung, throw your leg over!" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. You shouldn't even laugh, as he barely rides horses, but you couldn't help but find the situation hysterical. Jisung was close to panicking, but right when he was going to back off of the horse, he finally found the courage to build momentum to swing his leg over.

"I did it!" He gasped. Jisung shifted slightly on the saddle to make himself comfortable, a proud and bright smile on his face.

"You're a natural!" You tease. You let Blizz move closer to Buran, mirroring Jisung's smile widely, "It's actually difficult getting on horses. I'm surprised you didn't have much trouble."

"Of course," he joked, winking, "I'm me."

You playfully hit his shoulder before going over the ways he was supposed to guide his horse. He listened carefully, never seeming to blink for the next ten minutes of your brief lesson, "I won't go any faster than this." You rode circles around Jisung, keeping your attention directly on him. Judging by the expression on his face, he was nervous to begin moving, "Are you ready?"

Jisung nods confidently, gesturing for you to go ahead of him so that he can follow.

"I'm staying beside you," you told him.

You both started off slow, following a man-made path that circled your family's castle. Jisung had great control of Buran, though his knuckles were white from the grip had on its reins. You assure him that he was okay, that Buran was well trained and would not go out of control even with the most hectic of occurrences.

"Are you sure you haven't ridden before?" You questioned, "Wanna speed up a little bit?"

He nods, "Not so quick, though… I want to ease into it." You nod understandingly as you both begin to speed up. He follows you, heart pounding at the possibility that Buran would not understand his controls, "I've ridden once before, but my father was the one controlling the horse… He let me hold onto the reins, but that was about it."

"How long ago was that?"

"When I was about five."

Making plenty of rounds around the castle, you decide to divert down the path down to the edge of the town. Jisung followed you, even moving slightly ahead, "Your kingdom is beautiful, Y/N."

"I could say that about yours, Sung," you catch up to him and let your gaze fall onto Jisung. The gentle breeze softly brushed through his hair, exposing his forehead. You could tell that he was slowly growing used to the feeling of riding. You figured that speaking to him was a great distraction from the nerves.

He smiles at the mention of his home before shaking his head, "Oh hush… this is about you." He returns your gaze, snickering once he gets a proper look at you. Despite you both being on horses, the space between you both would have been considered close.

"What's so funny?"

He reaches forward and picks out a leaf that had flown into your hair, "Since when did you get so messy?" Letting the leaf fly out of his hand, he winks jokingly at you, causing you to almost fall off Blizz.

"I've always been messy," you rolled your eyes. At the sight of the town, you advanced faster, making sure that Jisung was comfortable without your guidance, "The only reason my bedroom is not cave-like is because of the caretakers."

Jisung won't say it out loud, but somehow, flaws such as this made him fall harder for you. Though you appeared to fit how princesses should be, the more he learned about you, the more he understood that you were just as human as any of those he ruled and you ruled.

"Do you want to stop by the bakery before returning to the castle?" You turned back to look at Jisung, who had chosen to fall back slightly just to catch a glimpse of you, "You can meet Mr. Yang! He'll love you!"

Jisung nodded and trailed closely behind you, ensuring that he wouldn't lose you, not that he actually would lose you. The town's buildings grew closer, the townspeople walking to and from them.

It was nice to see the attire and the architecture of those who lived in your region. Compared to Jisung's region, where people often wore sleeveless or short sleeves, the people wore longer sleeves and thin layers. Though the weather was not at all bad, he figured that they had grown used to this type of weather and generally wanted to dress warmer. The buildings were built on top of platforms that separated the actual structure from the ground, probably to avoid the permafrost during colder days.

"We're here," you turned back, noticing the awe in Jisung's expression. He shook the look off and smiled, slowing the speed of his steed just as u had, "I wonder if Jeongin is in! I've known him since I was younger."

Jisung took time to hop off his horse before dusting off his trousers to make himself look presentable. You were ensuring that the horses were tied tightly at a nearby post, waiting for Jisung to join you. Once he had done so, you both made your way into a large building, the name of the bakery on the front: Yang-Yum Bakery.

"Mr. Yang!"

"Princess! Welcome!" An older man had his head raised over the counter, a deep smile on his face, "And is this Prince Jisung?" He stood up straight and bowed, "Welcome to my bakery. Princess Y/N has told me so much about you!"

Jisung felt his ears warm up before smiling back, "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Yang."

The baker kept the smile on his face as he moved down the counter towards his baked goods, "What would you like? It is on me today as a welcome gift to the Prince."

Jisung's eyes widened at the selection of goods, his mouth watering at how good they all looked. He could hear you thanking Mr. Yang, "Is Jeongin helping out today?"

"Unfortunately not, Princess. He's out doing errands for Mrs. Yang," Mr. Yang retorted. You nodded understandingly before turning your attention down towards the treats. You spot your favourite ones, the meringue cookies, and then the honey-bread, a close second.

"What do you want, Sung?" You questioned quietly, gesturing to Mr. Yang the two choices, "You'll probably enjoy any of them." You could see his eyes moving back and forth across the options, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'd like those," Jisung points towards egg tarts, "And those, please." His finger pointed towards strawberry cream croissants, a satisfied look appearing on his face.

"Coming right up," Mr. Yang smiled and prepped the baked goods for you and Jisung, tying them into a cloth bag. He pushed it towards you with a warm smile, "I hope you enjoy them all. See you, Princess. It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Jisung." He bowed and softly waved.

You and Jisung bowed back before taking your leave. Soon you both were back outside, people still carrying out their duties. They had not noticed that you were present, which you did not really mind. It was nice not being the center of attention once in a while. And while Jisung was here, you didn't want the usual fuss that occurred when you visited the village.

Speaking too soon, a younger girl noticed your attire, immediately indicating that you were a royal. She smiled and curtsied, "Afternoon, princess."

"Afternoon," you smiled back.

At that small exchange, others followed in pursuit, also noticing the presence of the Prince next to you. And because they did recognize him, you couldn't help but take note of the fact that people were whispering, which wasn't what usually occurred when you were in town.

Upon hearing Jisung's name in their hushed remarks, your ears perked, miraculously gaining the ability to hear the words they spoke, "Isn't that the Prince of the valley? The poorer kingdom."

"Yes… you can tell just from how he's dressed."

Shaking your head, you tune out the insults being 'secretly' thrown towards Jisung, who, judging by the look on his face, could also hear them talk. It was sad how people were so quick to judge.

"This is Prince Jisung," you say confidently, "The one who I will marry in a few years' time… I ask that you respect him as much as you respect my father."

They shut their mouths, bowing to follow what you had asked of them. Jisung's gaze fell onto you, hundreds of thoughts rooted from different beliefs clashing inside his head. The people had dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

Though you smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel bad that you had to stand up for him. Every time someone mentioned the wealth of his kingdom, he couldn't have but believed you deserved better, especially because there was a drastic difference between your family's wealth and his family's wealth.

Y/N shouldn't be going through this…

"Should we get going?" You questioned, "There are more things I want to show you." You acted so casually about such a situation that Jisung could sense that you've already been in a position. Just how many times have you stood up for him?

Though the idea should be giving him a sense of comfort, he still felt as though he should be doing something in return. Securing yourselves back on the horses, you begin making your way back to the castle. There was a short period of silence before Jisung had spoken up, "You don't need to defend me, you know. But thank you."

You glance over at him and frown, "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you… And as your future wife, it is my duty to defend you. Besides, if it were the other way around, you would do the same."

That night, Jisung couldn't help but let the words play over in his head. You were right. He would do the same for you, but it was because he adored you. Did this mean that you felt the same?

"Part Two"

[jungw8ns]

as i go down on one knee.

PAIRING: duke!sunghoon x gn!reader. WC: 852 words. GENRE: fluff that might give you diabetes.  WARNINGS: mentions of food/eating food (?)

“i’m going out with his majesty the duke mom, will be back before you know it!” you exclaimed, patting down the creases on your fabric that you created while rushing to wear your sibling’s fancy sandals, almost tripping down the path to the small hills within the woods.

you could make out your lover’s figure leaning against the tree, arms crossed as he watched you almost bump into one of the fallen logs that were scattered amongst many others.

“took you long enough don’t you think darling?” sunghoon raised his eyebrows, taking your hand in his as the two of you walk along the vast fields of green.

“oh come on it was like five minutes-” “few minutes too long” he cut you off, looking elsewhere only for you to catch his red ears, ‘adorable’ you thought to yourself.

"i already set up the blanket while i was waiting for you so we should probably hasten up or else the food will get cold" he fastened his pace as you tried catching up with him, a few giggles leaving your mouth, curse him and his long legs.

when the both of you arrive at the spot, you didn't even try to contain your wide smile as you latched your hands onto his neck, giving him a warm hug. you can tell he worked really hard on decorating the picnic spot because of how neat and pretty it looked, he even placed a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the space as he scratched his nape plastering on a shy grin.

"tada..?"

he said, doing jazz hands to make the surprise even more.. better i suppose? your laughs filled up the air as you sat down patting the space opposite of you for him to sit on.

the both of you were eating, doing your own things and talking about whatever there was to talk about, it was peaceful and happy and you were more than grateful to be able to spend the day with him like this, he aswell.

so as time went on the two of you were now laying down on the blanket, head on his chest as you made out shapes and things the clouds reminded you of, you had no clue what he was about to do but you sensed how uneasy he was the whole time, so you asked.

"my dear, is there something bothering you? you seem a bit nervous for some reason, don't tell me i still make you flustered after all these years? c'mon tell me baby."

you kissed his nose and gave him a reassuring smile signalling him to spill what was on his mind. however, to your surprise he stands up and ushers you to stand up as well before finally taking ahold of your hands.

"y/n, love, i um– sorry uh–" he stuttered, heart almost bursting out of his chest as he looked for the right words to say.

'gosh i've recited this for so many times why am i forgetting it now when i'm about to say it'

he met your confused expression, letting out an anxious cough as he continued.

"sweetheart, i know this is sudden but that's usually how proposals are supposed to go right? anyways–"

you were baffled, "wait– proposal? you're proposing to me?"

"yes well, just let me finish love" his cheeks burned as you rub his wrist to calm him down.

"i have loved you ever since i've known you y/n, you know how i gave up billiards and gambling, i gave up everything you didn't like which was fine because all of it was worth it. you taught me how to love and you made me feel loved, i became a better person with you alongside me and i couldn't have had it any other way."

"but, nowadays i miss you all too much even for just a minute long and i hope for the day the two of us can finally move in together to our own residence and have our children run around as i get to call you my beloved spouse, i love you dear, trully and i want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"and so, as i go down on one knee, y/n l/n my salvation, my everything, will you marry me?"

he kneeled down not caring about whether the tad muddy grass beneath stained his pants as he opened the velvet box which held his precious family ring inside.

you were teary eyed as you stared at him with such affection, how could you ever refuse ?

placing the ring on your finger you smiled at how it fit perfectly on you before tackling him down onto the blanket closing the gap between your lips, you could feel him smirk through the kiss.

"so.. was that a yes?" you poked his dimple before jokingly crossing your arms

"of course not, what made you think that?" you gave him a sarcastic remark as he replied.

"well, since you're wearing the ring already there's no takebacks now honey"

"yea yea i love you too my fiancée."

NOTE: i know i know IM SORRY i couldn't post for weeks, the reason why it took me this long was because i didn't know how and what people would say when they proposed so yeah.. btw this was HEAVILY inspired by little women (i rewatched the film and it helped me a lot on the proposal scene and i just imagined how it would've been if jo said yes) , i had initially thought to break y'alls heart by saying no to the proposal but i was feeling a little bit nice today so yayy!! happy ending achieved 😍❗

[avas-wonderland]

Serene Melody

——————————-

“My love knows no bounds, I’m certain that you’re aware…”

Zangetsu could feel his face growing warm and blush on his cheeks.

The texture of her kiss lingered on his lips, fitting the passionate mood set by the moonlight shimmering through the windows.

In the late hours of the night, Zangetsu and Aria had their usual meeting in her bedroom.

Her bedroom was a rather wide space, filled with decor and trinkets of her liking.

The samurai was sitting upright on her bed, fit for the finest of royalty as seen by its structure and gold plated trimming.

The silk capes of the canopy above the bed swayed slightly from a light breeze that snuck past the large windows of Aria’s bedroom.

Aria was sitting in front of him in her knees. the skirt of the pale blue nightgown she wore draped the part of the bed where she sat, her long sleeves tickling the sides of Zangetsu’s face as she wrapped her arms around him for a kiss.

Aria sealed her lips onto his in a deep kiss.

They hesitated for a ment, wanting the sensation on their lips to last a little longer.

It was always one kiss after another, each one being a tender and soft exchange without words. The immediately accelerated into a passionate flurry with Aria placing a kiss on the spot on his chest where his heart beat.

In fact, both of the lovers blushing and gasping for air after the kiss finally broke apart

Aria paused for a moment to catch her breath, her chest heaving gently.

She could see the stain of her lipstick on his chest.

Not saying a word, Zangetsu placed his hand on the lipstick stamp on his chest.

He looked back to Aria, a nervous smile on her face.

“I….I hope I wasn’t too much..”

Zangetsu brushed his hand against her cheek with a warm smirk.

“There is no need to apologize, your majesty..”

Aria’s eyes fluttered shut, embracing the feeling of his hand on her cheek.

“Shall I hold you close?”

Her eyes shot open again with blush starting to rise in her cheeks. She could feel her own heartstrings tingle from those words.

“Please…I insist.”

He lifted his hand under her chin, lifting it up so that her eye met his.

She immediately felt the comfort waning in his eye.

“There’s a high chance that I will not be leaving this small oasis of ours for a while…”

The purr that dwindled in Zangetsu’s voice made Aria’s spine trill with goosebumps, but in a positive sensation.

“Of course…”

Her response was a sleepy sigh but oozed with a lovestruck timbre.

Aria felt her own heart swoon when Zangetsu gently brushed his arm down her backside. His other arms was buckled around her waist to keep her secure in his embrace.

Her chest began to press against Zangetsu until they lay fat on the pillowy cushion of her elegant bed,

The noblewoman didn’t wait a second more and pressed her head on his chest. The surface of her cheek cushioned against worn bandages that sealed Zangetsu’s chest with the exception of a bare spot on his left side. Zangetsu’s arms locked firmly around her, securing her in serenity.

Within seconds, his heartbeat resonated against Aria’s ear.

Blush painted her daunt cheeks with a deep red hue from the tender intimacy. Her own heart began pounding slightly from feeling him so close to her side.

She smiled as she slipped further into an aura of calm and security that the lovers created. with every passing second, each beat of her boyfriend’s heart lined up all in a steady pace.

“You certainly look satisfied..”

Aria heard his deep voice rumble in his chest between heartbeats, causing a flustered giggle to escape her lips.

Closing her eyes, she said something that made his heart suddenly pound rapidly.

“How could I not? You always like to play my favorite song…”

Zangetsu’s eye widened with blushing cheeks as his heartbeat rose in tempo.

It was true. The sound of his heart is one of her favorite sounds. It seemed to hum a lovely tune for her every time she heard it.

To her, his heartbeat is one of the sweetest sounds she could ever imagine. It was a sound that she admired so often since they first set eyes upon one another.

A personal performance of her favorite song was being played from writhing his chest and she couldn’t imagine it playing in any other form.

“It’s such a lovely tune.” Aria sighed at the sound of Zangetsu’s heart thumping at a flustered pace.

However, he could simply smile back and place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I believe my love knows no bounds for you as well…”

With that, Zangetsu and Aria began to slip into a peaceful slumber. With each heart strongly beating for each other, it was another lovely night.

And it certainly will not be the last….

——————————————-

Thought I’d try to expand my writing skills a bit more😊

[wrenhyperfixates]

Ever Since We Met

Prologue

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After making a bet with Odin, Loki finally has a chance to prove he is worthy of being heir to the throne. Under mysterious circumstances, you find yourself stranded on Asgard, left with no option but to team up with Loki and help him win the crown. Now posing as visiting royalty, you must be careful of rumors in court that say you’re not who you claim, all while battling your growing feelings for the raven haired king. But some things are easier said than done because secrets, you’ll soon learn, can be deadly. Chapter Summary: Before Odin leaves for Alfheim, Loki makes one final bid for the throne. A bet that has the power to alter his future. Chapter Warnings: none :) A/N: Greetings guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I am beyond excited to share this story with you! It takes place pre-Thor 1 and will update every Friday until we reach the end in about six months. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​

ESWM Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake​​ @electroma89​​ @joyfullymassivewhispers​​ @darkacademicfrom2021​​ (Both tag lists are open; message me to be added!) 

⚜︎ Masterlist | Next >>

Disclaimer: Gif not mine.

Thankfully, the halls outside the throne room were empty, leaving plenty of space for Loki to pace back and forth. He never would have let his anxious energy show in front of others, but right now it was just him. The guards had gone in to announce Loki to his father, gain permission for him to enter. It was ridiculous that he couldn’t just waltz in, the prince thought. Then again, that’s all he was. A prince. Not the king.

See, Loki had been trying his whole life to prove his worth to his father, desperately attempting to show he was deserving of the throne. But nothing had worked, and whispers that Odin was going to announce his heir any day now were common throughout the kingdom. And not a single person was saying it was going to be Loki. Luckily, the younger Odinson didn’t give up so easily.

“Prince Loki,” one of the guards said with a little bow of his head as they re-emerged from the throne room. Loki immediately stopped his nervous movement and looked him in the eye. “The king will see you now.”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Loki replied, regal as ever. “As you were.”

Taking a final gulp of air, he pushed through the heavy golden doors and walked towards Odin. As a child, Loki had always thought his father looked so imposing sitting on the throne, as if he had in his palm the fate of all people. Well, now Loki was grown, and he knew that the old man sitting in that glorified chair did hold someone’s fate. His. And if Loki wasn’t careful, Odin would crush his dreams, his destiny, without so much as batting an eye.

Loki’s heeled boots clicked on the cold floor, as if counting down the steps left before he could make his request. They were, perhaps, a bit more formal than something one might wear on a regular basis, but he figured why not dress to impress? His semi-formal cloak swooshed behind him, and he had to resist anxiously fiddling with the fabric. With his hair slicked back and combed perfectly in place, he thought he looked very princely, but if all went well, he was going to be far more than that.

“Your majesty,” he greeted Odin in the formal way he’d been taught since birth, bowing at his waist. Oh, how he so despised that part; if he had it his way, he’d never bow to anyone again. At least he didn’t have to kneel as most of the lesser nobles and commoners did.

“Rise my son,” Odin said with a wave of his hand. “Why have you felt the need for this audience so close to my departure?”

“Well, father,” Loki began. He summoned all his strength to keep up his nonchalant facade. “It has come to my attention that you have invited Thor to join you and mother on your diplomatic mission to Alfheim. An invitation, I might add, that he has accepted.”

“Yes, yes,” he yawned. “What of it? I hope you are not looking to come. The convoy is already full.”

“On the contrary, I think it best if I stay here.” Loki studied his father’s expression a moment before continuing. “To rule the kingdom.”

It was painfully silent in the near-empty throne room. And then Odin began laughing. Not chuckling, but full on laughing at his son. This was perhaps the most embarrassed Loki had ever felt, and there wasn’t even anyone else in the room. But all he wanted was to show his father he was capable of ruling. That he would make a far more competent king than his oaf of a brother. This was a critical moment, he knew, and he couldn’t let any cracks in his armor show. He kept his face completely neutral as his father slowly ceased his cackling.

“And why should I allow for that. You see, Loki, I have already chosen my successor, and it is not you,” Odin bluntly explained as Loki’s blood began to boil and hopes began to drop. Maybe this was just a nightmare, and he’d wake up to make his plea for real. No such luck. “The official announcement was going to come upon my return, but it seems cruel to keep it from you now.”

All the times Loki played this out in his head, it never went quite this poorly. Never in his wildest dreams had he been expecting Odin to admit what he already knew deep down; he’d lost. But all his training, his preparing, his effort to show that he was the one deserving of the crown, could it really be for nothing?

“Come now, my son,” Odin said when Loki took too long to reply. He wondered if his father was trying to have a comforting tone. If he was, he was failing miserably. “You always knew I would have to pick one of you. That only one of you could take the mighty throne of Asgard.”

Yes, but I should be the victor, Loki thought, ignoring the tears pricking the back of his eyes. The last thing he would do was cry in front of the Allfather. Especially when he still had a chance to make this work in his favor. All he had to do was keep it together for the next fifteen minutes and alter his argument a little. If Odin was taking drastic measures, maybe that’s what he had to do, too.

“I do not think you should act so rashly, father,” Loki spoke up, voice impressively even. “After all, you have yet to hear my proposition.”

“And what might that be? Speak, son, and tell me.”

“Let me rule Asgard while you are gone. If I do well, you wait to make your decision on who will be your heir, allow me to continue to compete for the crown.”

The old king laughed again, not as loudly as before, but just as unkindly. “Why would I do that? I see no way in which this benefits me.”

“On the contrary, as a prince, I would have the right to plead my case to the Allmother if you took me out of the running. It would be a long, tedious process if you had to go through all the right channels to prove my brother is better suited for the kingship. And then again, they might not even find that he is. Or I could even challenge Thor for the crown, if it comes down to it. Such scandal to mark the end of your reign would be a shame, do you not agree?” He paused for dramatic effect, and to let the words sink in. “However, should I do poorly on the throne, I would have no argument to make, and would back down peacefully.”

The tension was so thick, Loki was tempted to whip out one of his daggers to try to cut it, and give himself room to breathe. But even the subtlest of movements would give way to an accusation of weakness, so he stood where he was, his piercing gaze staring into his father’s one eye, waiting for him to speak. Odin tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne, mulling over the very thinly veiled threat. By the time the king was opening his mouth to speak, Loki felt ready to scream.

“Very well,” he finally conceded. “But your success will be according to my terms. There are three things a good king needs. The first is the respect of those he rules. The second, fear and awe of his enemies and allies alike.”

Loki’s eyes flitted down for the briefest of seconds before looking up with renewed confidence. “And the last?”

“Worthiness,” Odin continued, standing up and walking down the steps, “to have the crown on his head.”

More eagerly than he would have liked, Loki nodded. He was certainly clever enough to figure out a way to prove he had each of those. It seemed that his silver tongue had not failed him today. But before he could say he accepted the terms, Odin had one last stipulation to add.

“You may not set foot out of the kingdom. Everything must run smoothly while you are here. Is this understood?”

“Yes, father, it is. And you will not interfere with my reign,” Loki replied, distrusting something about the look in the old man’s eye. “So then, do we have a deal?”

He considered for a moment more. “Yes, we do. From the moment I leave tomorrow until the second I return, you will be acting king of Asgard.”

“Thank you, father. You will not regret this,” Loki said, bowing again before leaving.

Whether he left before his father could say anything or if he never planned to at all, Loki wasn’t sure. It hardly mattered anymore. Now, his future was nearly set, for certainly he was already admired to some degree, right? Or even if he wasn’t, he’d been preparing for this day his whole life, studying his father. He knew how to be king, and he’d be damned if he let anything ruin this opportunity.

After a fitful night of sleep, Loki saw his family and their entourage off at the Bifröst. True, he was more than eager for them to leave already, but he did his best to mask it. After all, his eagerness may be mistaken for arrogance, and that was no way to start his reign.

“Alright, brother. I bid thee well,” Thor said, clapping him on the back. As far as Loki was aware, neither he nor anyone else knew of the specifics of the bet that had been made, save for his mother and Heimdall, who had been tasked with keeping an eye on him. “Do not get too comfortable on the throne, though.”

“Good luck, my son. I have every confidence in you,” Frigga said, cupping his cheeks.

Loki looked to Odin for him to speak some final words of parting. When he didn’t, Loki said, “Thank you, brother, mother. I wish you all safe travels and shall be awaiting your return.”

He waited until they disappeared into the rainbow lights and, with a nod in Heimdall’s direction, headed back towards the palace. The throne. Almost reverently, he circled it once before sitting down. Feeling perfectly pleased with himself, Loki didn’t even notice the bright flash of light in the distance. Nor what came with it.

[bbrandy2002]

Little Shit:

Part 1: Wrapped Around A Finger

This is for week 96 of @wackydrabbles prompt: I can't -- I have a deadline. Prompt will be in bold.

Okay, so I couldnt fit all of this into the 2000 word limit and had to break it up and didn't have the heart to cut.

@kingliam2019​ you made a request for a Little Shit story on New Year’s Eve and it only took 5 months to come up with something, so this one is for you.

If you're unfamiliar with the Little Shit series (because it has been over a year since I wrote anything for it) Nikolas is Liam and Riley's 5 year old mischievous son who just can't help from wreaking havoc, especially toward Drake. He enjoys getting a rise out of him even if he does love his Uncle ... for the most part.

Warning: Crude Language. Mention of Covid and vaccinations.

Word count: 1928

-----------------------

Returning from the stables one afternoon, Drake was stopped at the palace door by security -- again -- for not wearing the required mask to enter.

“Mr. Walker, I’m afraid you need to have a mask on before I can allow you inside. I have to tell you this every day.”

“That because I fucking live here,” Drake grumbled as he snagged the offered surgical mask from the guard. 

“Not in the common areas, Mr. Walker.”

“You know this whole virus thing is just a conspiracy and Liam is using it to control all of us, right? He’s gone mad. This shit’s never gonna end.”

“I understand, sir.” The guard waited patiently as Drake begrudgingly slipped the mask over his face. “Perhaps, though, there is an alternative, one where you wouldn’t have to wear one anymore. They’re offering free vaccines in room 105 today. If you get the shot, you won’t need to wear a mask when you come inside,” the guard cajoled.

Drake let out a humorless laugh.“I’m sure that’s exactly what Liam wants: make a guinea pig out of me. Pump me full of that radioactive shit and in five years I’ll have a tail growing out of my face. No thanks.” Drake disregarded the information and moved past the man.

“But, sir .. .they’re giving away bottles of whiskey to the first 100 recipients. Last I heard, they were close to reaching that number. Top of the line stuff too.”

Drake turned on the heel of his work boots, glaring back, before asking skeptically. “Whiskey? They’re giving away alcohol to get this damn shot?” The guard nodded in response.

“Glenfiddich -- 1955, I believe. The King paid for it himself.”

Drake’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s a $90,000 bottle! And they’re just giving them away if you get this shot?”

“I … um … yes. His Majesty wants to reward those who are doing their part to create a healthier and safer Cordonia. He won’t rest until every last citizen is vaccinated from this dreaded virus. We can all fight this … together. What do you say, Mr. Walker? Will you help stop the spread?”

“For a $90,000 bottle of whiskey? Hell yeah! I’ll grow two tails out my heads for -- hold on a damn minute …” Drake burrowed his eyes into the guard who was sweating bullets, desperate for him to leave. “Where the hell is Nikolas at? This whole thing reeks of him..” Drake’s eyes began darting around the perimeter in a feverish search for the little prince’s battery operated car. “That little shit is blackmailing you, isn’t he? I should have known.”

The guard straightened and answered in a solemn tone, “I’m a serious professional, Mr. Walker. And I take your accusations of being anything but, demeaning to the loyalty and oath I’ve given to the Crown. How dare you stand there --”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” Drake ran a hand down his weary face in frustration. “It’s just that kid is the bane of my existence. I’ve had a long, hard day at work and I’m in no mood for his fucking stunts.”

The guard waved him off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve heard all about the stuff he’s pulled on you.” He leaned in closer and spoke in a hushed tone, “Between you and me, he’s a little pain in my ass too; always coming down here acting like he runs this place. If you ever need help teaching that kid a lesson, I’d be happy to help.”

Drake arched a brow. “Loyalty to the crown, huh?” The man regarded that retort with an awkward shrug. “Yeah, he needs his ass busted, that’s for sure. Liam thinks he just needs a little more love. I’d like to show him the Bianca F. Walker way of love.” He slammed his hands together.

The guard chuckled. “I’m with you on that. He needs something done; he’s out of control … Anyway, you should probably head on up there and get your shot -- and whiskey -- before they’re all out. I wish I’d have waited to get mine until today.”

Twisting his face in doubt, Drake walked around the corner and leaned up against the wall as he pulled out his phone. Something just didn’t feel right, and he determined the safest thing to do was shoot off a quick text to his best friend.

Drake: Liam, are you really giving away Glenfiddich, 1955, to get the Covid vaccine?

He waited a brief moment until a response came through; he looked down at his phone and read:

Liam: Yes.

Drake: Is that all you have to say about that?

Liam: Yes.

Liam: I am in meeting for Cordonia.

Drake tilted his head to the side and scratched at it as he stared at the odd message. He typed out another response.

Drake: What kind of meeting for Cordonia? And with who?

Liam: Top secret. Can't tell you.

Drake: Uh-huh. Where’s Nikolas?

Liam: With Riley and baby in Vallteria

Liam: Shit. Valtoria

Drake: What’s the capital of the United States?

Liam: Damn it Drake I’m in a meeting!

Drake: Then hurry up and answer

Liam: Washington D.C.

Drake: Who shot me at the costume ball?

Liam: You son of a bitch. IM IN A MEETING!

Drake let out a heavy groan and decided to just call Riley. He knew without a doubt Nikolas took Liam’s phone again. If he called Riley, though, there was no way the boy could pretend he was her.

Picking up almost instantly, Riley answered cheerfully, “Hello. Queen Riley speaking.”

“Riley, it’s Drake. I was just wondering if you and Liam were really giving away whiskey for getting this shot? Sounds a little fishy to me.”

There was a moment of silence, then a clicking noise, followed by a long beep, before Riley replied. “Yes. We. Are. Giving. Away …. Whiskey. Get.The.Shot.Drake.”

“The hell is wrong with your voice?”

“I.Am.In.Valtoria.”

“Riley, why the fuck are you enunciating every word?”

“I. Have. A. Cold. And. Must.Talk.Slow. Nikolas.Is.With.Me. And. I. Must. Get ... Going. Bye. Drake ...You. Ass. Hole.” 

Drake rolled his eyes and slipped the phone in his back pocket. “He’s got her phone, too. Damn that evil-ass kid.” He hesitantly made his way down to room 105; it wouldn’t hurt anything just to open the door and see if there was anything legit about this. As he approached, a lovely lady he knew from the kitchen exited with a big smile on her aging face and a bottle she cradled in her arms; he recognized it almost instantly as the Glenfiddich.

“Miss Milly,” Drake greeting kindly and held the door open for her. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

“Oh, you.” She laughed bashfully in her grandmotherly voice as she stepped into the corridor. “You’re always flirting with me, Drake. One of these days, I’m going to make you take me out on a date, buy me dinner, and give me a peck on the cheek at the end of the night.” 

Drake smiled back fondly at her. “You just tell me when, Miss Milly, and I’m there.” He motioned to the bottle in her hand. “Say … couldn’t help but notice that bottle of whiskey you’re carrying around; where’d you get that at? That brand doesn’t come cheap.”

“Ohhh, I know. But I heard they were giving shots in that room right there.” She pointed with a crooked finger. “And they said I was the 99th person to stop by, and gave this to me after getting my shot. I couldn’t believe my luck. And they only have one bottle left. I can finally put my grandson through college.” 

“That’s great! And you said there is still one more bottle left?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. But you better hurry. One of the chefs is on his way here for a shot as well.”

Drake hurriedly kissed her on the cheek and opened the door. Thank you, Miss Milly!” He stepped inside, then stopped and whipped his head back out the door. “Milly, wait. Have you seen Prince Nikolas today?”

“Yes, he left with the Queen after breakfast this morning. I believe they mentioned going to Valtoria.”

Drake rubbed his hands together anxiously and thanked her. He’d known the cook for years, she’s the sweetest person he knew. There was no way she would cover for Nikolas, and Drake couldn’t imagine the boy would have any dirt to hold over her head.

When the door shut, Nikolas grinned mischievously from a dark alcove where he was parked in his black 12V Mercedes Benz S63. “This is the day I’ve been waiting for.”

He set his laptop and both parents' phones in the passenger seat and slowly pulled out. He paid $100 to Milly and asked her to put the bottle back in his father’s liquor cabinet and rolled a few paces to room 105.

======

After filling out medical forms, the palace doctor ushered Drake behind a curtain where a long rectangular table and folding chair sat. Taking the seat, Drake watched the doctor slip on a pair of gloves and pull a small tube of lube out of his lab coat pocket. Drake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Heh. What’s the lube for?” he chuckled lightly. “I’m just here for a shot, man. Nothing else is going in me.”

“Just relax, Mr. Walker. It’s all part of the process.” A squirt of clear liquid was squeezed onto the doctor's two gloved fingers as he held them up. “On your medical forms you denied having a physical exam in the past year. I just need to do a quick exam and check for rectal polyps.”

Drake started laughing in amusement, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve got to be shittin' me. So let me get this straight. I can’t get a shot until you stick your fingers in my ass to check for ‘polyps?’ Yeah, that’s happening. What a bunch of horse malarky.”

The doctor let out an annoyed huff. “I see you didn’t read over the information forms. They never do,’ he mumbled. “Look, if you want me to wait here all day while you figure out what to do, I can’t -- I have a deadline to finish here. Now if you’ll move along, I have another patient waiting; you’re free to go.”

And Drake knew he was. But that expensive bottle of Glenfiddich was calling his name. He glanced over to that one last beautiful bottle sitting atop a desk on the far side of the room, calling his name. Selling it for even half of what it was worth would afford him enough to move the hell out of the palace and get the freedom from Nik he desired. Rubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin, Drake's timid gaze turned from the bottle to the doctor. He could handle a finger or two in ass for a few seconds if t made him $90,000 richer. 

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Nikolas quietly typed on the keyboard of his laptop from the opposite side of the curtain. The images from the hidden cameras plastered on the wall where Drake was seated popped into view on his screen. Feeding a link to, and overriding the broadcast feed at the CBC, Nik crouched down low and waited with little beady eyes for the exam to begin. “Perfect ...Okay, Doc, let’s see if you can get a hole in one.”

----------

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[newtonsheffield]

It's me, the instigator of accidental pregnancy spin-off AUs, here with another spicy Sunday request! Could we potentially see either slamming a screen door Katie and Ant doing the deed for the first time (if we haven't already, I honestly can't remember) or royals Kate and Anthony putting the throne in the throne room to good use? I would love to ask for a spicy Sunday request in the AU I accidentally spawned last week but I'll refrain until you've posted it.

Kate, Anthony and the throne room 🌶🌶 need I say more 😁😉😏

Another popular request this week hey, great minds think alike!

I very much look forward to seeing what you come up with for the unexpected pregnancy AU!

Mmmmk now let's see Anthony and Kate getting wild in the throne room.

Everyone had tried to tell her, honestly, that having Anthony with her while she heard petitions was a bad idea. Plenty of people had suggested that she ban him from parliament as well, truth be told, but given he was one of the Lords, there was really very little that she could do beyond stripping him of his title. And truth be told, when Kate considered stripping Anthony, it wasn't his title she was considering.

And it wasn't that Anthony was rude, belligerent, or in any way undermined her. No, in fact he was very much the opposite, almost too supportive, too willing to help.His unhelpfulness was of a different sort all together. The real problemm was that Anthony found Kate's competence a little too attractive.

Kate wasn't too proud to admit that their relationship had esentially started with sex, and the tension that had been rife between them from the beginning had only grown really, in the months they'd been together, but since Anthony had proposed last week, it really seemed to have fit one hell of a crescendo. Electricity crackling between them nearly constantly, his eyes locked on her across the room, his hands pawing at her whenever they were alone no matter the place, her knees weak had gotten them a little in trouble last week when Mary had unexpectedly walked into the library to see Kate straddling Anthony on the table. And so, in light of this, she should have known better than to take him to hear the monthly petitions. But she'd been selfish enough to want his support.

Before they'd even started, before she'd even been announced, his lips had been on her neck nipping at the skin there, careful not to bruise, his hands tugging at her waist, his voice hot in her ear.

"Fuck I love that crown, Kate." It had sent a shiver down her spine, as he'd put his leg between her own.

"I'm going to be announced soon, you need to stop." She'd said as firmly as she could manage, which, were she honest with herself was not very.

"Well I look forward to serving my Queen later." a low growl and then he had released her, just as she was announced and the doors swung wide, and her cheeks burned for the entirety of the short walk to the dais, Anthony two steps behind her the entire way.

She could feel his eyes on her, from his position a few feet away, the entire time, never shifting, watching her intently, his hand on her shoulder in between petitioners even felt hot and overwhelming and by the time the public had been shown from the room, Kate had practically snapped at the guards

"Leave us."

Anthony stayed stock still, unblinking as the door snapped shut behind the last of them, and really Kate couldn't say who moved first. One second their eyes had been locked together, the tension like honey in the air between them, the next Anthony's lips were claiming hers roughly, his tongue tangling against hers in the most filthy way her hips grinding against the leg he'd slipped between them.

"We shouldn't do this here." She managed to gasp out as his lips sucked at her collarbone, teeth following in sharp little growls, marking the skin there possessively. Anthon pulled back, his eyes heavy with something hot and heady.

"What if I told you I used to dream about this. When I stayed here before. I dreamt about you taking me in here." His voice like gravel and Jesus fucking christ what else was she supposed to do?

Kate stepped back, batting away Anthony's hands as he whined at the loss of contact, She forced herself to clear her throat, forced herself to sit back in the throne, and forced her most imperious voice into place.

"Lord Bridgerton, I should like you to get on your knees."

Anthony dropped to his knees immediately with a startled whine, letting himself be tugged forward by his tie, her crest embroidered in gold under her finger tips. His hands already tugging her skirt up over her hips, ducking to settle her legs over his shoulders.

"As you wish, your majesty."

Anthony gave no time for his words to settle in, groaning against her cutting off her own startled Fucking Hell as his tongue started moving in a torturously slow circle before setting a relentless pace, his eyes locked with hers pinning her in place against her throne her hips moving fruitlessly against him, and in the end it was over embarrassingly quickly, her shoulders heaving as a scream ripped from her chest.

Kate tugged Anthony's lips to her own his tie still knotted around her fist.

"Since you've been such a good boy, I think you deserve a reward no?" Anthony's hips bucked against her with a whine, his head nodding furiously.

"Please Kate, Please."

Kate's lips twitched upwards in a smirk. "Sit on the steps."

He dropped again, quickly, his hands already reaching for her, whining as she ignored them in favour of tugging at his belt, his hips moving wildly as her hands ghosted over him. Anthony sighed happily as she finally settled on top of him, their foreheads pressed together as Kate rolled her hips towards him, meeting his in a pace slowly building to something desperate and furious, punishing, Anthony's hair falling in his eyes as sweat beaded on his brow nonsense falling from his mouth as heat built in the it f her stomach. Kate Kate Kate Kate Kate It's so-You're so beautiful like this, always. His chest heaving and then everything exploded in a bright flash behind her eyelids, Anthony's shout echoing off the cathedral ceilings. Gasps echoing through the rooms, swallowed by needy kisses.

"You really do like a woman in charge don't you? Were all of your dreams like that?" Kate said a little breathlessly, too scared to even attempt to stand yet, knowing she'd fall.

Anthony barked a laugh. "Honey I spent so long in the shower every morning I think the staff were getting worried."

Kate felt something like smug possession burn white hot momentarily before she sighed. "I'm a little embarrassed to have done that in from of my Great great grandfather's portrait I must say."

Again Anthony laughed, "Please, I doubt this is the first time this room's been used for something like that."

And Kate could have sworn she heard a shout from outside the door that sounded suspiciously like the Butler "It isn't!"

[aminiatureworld]

A Sea of Fragments IV

Word Count: 2,544

Warnings: Alcohol

Author’s Note: I somehow lost an hour at some point when writing, but here is Chapter 4! Like I said last time this is more of a continuation of Chapter 3 since I split it into two parts, but I think it’s rather good in its own right. Hope you enjoy!

You wandered between the white tents, pace fast and without any real goal. For what end destination could you truly have? You had no base, no sanctuary, nowhere you might consider home. The tent you’d borrowed was just Fatui property, and though your belongings were surely some comfort they also smacked of betrayal. For indeed you’d betrayed yourself by agreeing to this, by being so naïve as to believe that you might’ve been able to live out a perfect future, one in which the valiant knight lifts the curse of a fallen prince.

There was nowhere in this camp that was truly your own, and the outside world proved hardly more comforting. The idea of returning to your village was something you automatically shrunk from, for then the constant attention would just return, only worse now. How could you live with endless eyes staring at you from behind? No, you could not return home either. There was nowhere else then, nowhere except the rest of the world, which spread itself before you like a chasm, one that was a very large fall away. You were essentially trapped, no matter what you did you were trapped. There was nothing, nothing except this distant future you refused to let go of. But was the future worth the payment of your current misery?

Stumbling along the haphazard pathways you found yourself at what must’ve been the center of the camp. It was a surprisingly open place, the clearing large enough to fit at least one regiment, with space to spare for sparring and other such activities. You could spot two pairs doing just that, but the majority of people were sitting. Though there were a large enough number of benches in a circle the majority of the troops were lounging about the grass, a steady stream of conversation escaping their groups.

“Since I’ve never heard of anyone getting drunk off of one round, and all of you certainly don’t have water in your pouches, let’s have a toast!”

The man who spoke up was quite evidently tipsy, something that caused a twittering of laughter and scoffing amid his companions. He paid no attention to the conversation, nor to the shove on the shoulder from the man sitting next to him, the “oh Pytor” that accompanied a roll of the eyes. Standing up, somewhat shakily, he raised his glass.

“A toast to the Tsaritsa! And to the glory of Snezhnaya!”

The words made you cringe, but somehow you found yourself not the only one. Pytor’s proclamation was met with a great rolling of eyes, and even some grumbling. One woman shook her head, crossing her hands and scowling.

“And what would the Tsaritsa do with that toast of yours? If you’re going to toast someone they should at least have a vested interest in you. Besides, what do you know of the glory of Snezhnaya.”

“Oh come on Irina, cut the poor boy some slack. We can’t all be as serious as you are.”

“You know nothing of the world Misha, and neither does this idiot. I can’t help that you need some reality put into you.”

“Oh?” Pytor flashed an amused look towards Irina. “Then enlighten me Irina, who should I toast to? After all the Tsaritsa is still paying us, and that counts more than your talking.”

“Would you toast the sun because it shines\? You know she’s only paying because if not half her army wouldn’t be here. Or are you such a patriot as that, Pytor?”

“I admit, I am not.” Pytor sighed, expression twisting into one of abject sadness. The expression was so comical, you couldn’t help but giggle with the rest of the group, taking a few steps forward as to hear better. “And yet, I feel that I must toast her most beloved Majesty nevertheless, for if not I would be rotting away in some hovel, and surely you would all miss me if that were come to pass.”

“I’m not sure if Irina here would, but I would, don’t worry.” Misha piped back up, ducking as Irina went to slug him. “Anyways I frankly don’t care about any glory, at least the food is better than one would expect, even if the company is terrible.”

“I don’t know why I’m friends with you imbeciles,” Irina muttered, “you all have the curiosity of a house plant.”

“Then why do you stay?” You immediately clamped your mouth shut, uneasiness washing over you as the group turned to stare at you. Keeping your gaze slightly lowered you peered over at Irina. An odd smile spread across her face, and her eyes reflected something unreadable.

“Why do you stay?”

“Because I have nowhere else to go.” You replied, compelled to honesty despite the slight waver of your voice.

“Is it not the same for us?” Irina gestured towards the people around her. “After all, what life is there for us other than here. Half of us come from villages with no future, doomed otherwise to starvation or poverty. Where else would any of us go?”

“Yet surely there is a better option?” You pressed on, vaguely aware of the fact you were posing the question to yourself. “Surely there is better than serving someone whose goals you can’t understand, who cares not for the people around her, and under the gaze of a man who cares not at all whether you live or die?”

“What do you mean?” Misha stared at you oddly. “Are you talking about my lord, Scaramouche?”

“Lord?” You replied, not sure which urge was stronger, the urge to laugh or to cry.

“Only to his face.” Irina replied, glaring at Misha, who was laughing uncontrollably. “Although I have to agree with Misha, I don’t see why he should any worse than the rest. He manages at least to keep the sadism to a minimum around the ground troops.”

“He’s one of the worst tempered men I’ve ever met.” You blurted out.

“Perhaps.” Misha let out another string of laughter. “Still at least he runs things well enough. You’ll never catch that man skimming off the top, or the bottom for that matter. His pride would probably kill him for it.”

“Lord Scaramouche is one of the best leaders I’ve ever worked under. At least he’s never experimented on anyone else.”

“I think Dottore doesn’t count when talking about good or bad, Pytor. That one is simply in a world of his own, and all we can do is hope to never get sucked in with him.”

“You must’ve had some bad experiences with Scaramouche.” Irina tilted her head, once more bringing the conversation back to your objection.

“It’s not my fault he has a superiority complex the size of Celestia.”

“You may be right about that.” Irina replied, a wry smile conveying some odd form of approval. “Still, you can’t help it with people like them. What else is there for the man who was bred for war?”

“I suppose you’re right.” You frowned. “It almost makes me pity him.”

“Well don’t let him know that.” Misha joined in. “I think his ego wouldn’t be able to take it.”

You laughed, despite yourself.

 -------

Scaramouche wove his way through the camp, thoughts still swirling in his head. A part of him chafed at the idea of going after you, at having once more to in some way lower himself. Yet still your words echoed in his head, your accusations which caused him inexplicable irritation propelling his steps forward.

Reaching the center of the camp Scaramouche heard the familiar tones of your voice. Keeping towards the edges of the clearing he followed the sound, surprisingly jovial considering the fight you two had just experienced. Finally spying you next to a few troops he found himself caught somewhat off guard, the view of your face open with laughter killing all the thoughts he’d previously been harboring.

As if entranced he watched mutely as you conversed and joked with the people around you, voice hesitant but no less eager for it. Your words were fueled by excitement and humor, said in a sort of tone and register that Scaramouche had never before heard from you. Your laugh was warm and somewhat excited, something that the Harbinger found himself enthralled with. Never before did he understand the idea of a musical voice or laugh, at least not in terms of someone speaking. Voices were flat, screechy, deep, irritating. Voices were not warm, were not musical; one could not pin such words onto something so mundane as someone’s speech. And yet when he heard your voice all he could think of was the idea of song. Absentmindedly he wondered what it might be like if you sang.

You looked so comfortable now, so different from the sulky distrust that coated your every gesture when he was with you. A flicker of resentment stirred within Scaramouche, joined by a prickly disbelief. How was it that these people should so easily coax smiles and laughter out of you? Were they no less Fatui members than he was? It seemed almost hypocritical, how you should so quickly blame him for one thing and forgive others for that exact same situation. And yet Scaramouche didn’t want them to share in your rocky contempt. He wanted fairness, wanted to share in that openness that those so beneath him had managed to cultivate. He wanted to be acquitted of his crimes, just as you had decided to acquit those around you.  

A quick shout of “My lord” quickly broke apart this reverie. Suddenly the camp was silent, the only sound that of fabric shifting as troops stood up and bowed. Waving his hand impatiently Scaramouche made his way over to you. Your face was somewhat flushed from the liveliness of your previous conversation, your gaze suddenly weary. Saying nothing Scaramouche took your hand, glad that you followed silently, and silently cursing the soft conversation that followed the two of you.

“It seemed like you were having a good time.” Scaramouche opened, bitterness seeping through his voice. You seemed startled, stance once more closing off, an action which caused a flicker of regret to run through the Harbinger.

“I was, I didn’t think there’d be any real people here.”

“How kind of you to ameliorate your statement.”

“What do you want?” Your words were once more short, but the tone had somehow shifted. Though Scaramouche could not say what they’d shifted to.

“I…” What did he want? Surely he could not tell you of all the things he thought. Could not reveal such a weakness, such an inexplicable, incomprehensible thing.

“I’m sorry for calling you heartless.” Your tone was somewhat rushed. “I, I was angry, I couldn’t understand why you would do such a thing. I still don’t, of course I still don’t, but I shouldn’t’ve called you that. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t see why my plans should be causing you such distress.”

“And I don’t see what the Tsaritsa could need with a village’s heirloom? Perhaps if I knew it were for some noble cause I could excuse it, but I don’t know that. In fact I doubt it very much. Surely you must know?”

“It’s not my duty to question the wishes of the Tsaritsa. I only see that he will is done.”

“How?” You looked aghast. “How could you never question what you’ve been asked? You must have your own thoughts, your own feelings. How could you never question what you’ve been asked to do?”

“Because that’s not my duty. I don’t exist to question Her Majesty’s will, only to fulfill it.”

“That must be a very sad existence.” You paused staring once more at some spot in the distance, some spot Scaramouche could not see. “It must be a very lonely existence. To never be able to reveal one’s thoughts.”

Scaramouche said nothing, unsure whether the assertion was above or beneath him. Why should he question the Tsaritsa after all? She’d given him a will, a goal, a target with which to point his abilities, a place where he could expel the rage which twisted inside him. And in return he gave her his loyalty, the most he could ever give anyone. Of course he never questioned the Tsaritsa. Does a dog question his owner? Why should a mortal question the resolve, the will of a god?

“I’ll do it.”

“What?” Scaramouche asked, mind wrenched from his previous thoughts.

“I’ll do it, I’ll look into the future. I’ll find what you’re looking for. But in return you must do something for me.”

“What will it be this time?”

“Listen to me. Listen to what I see in the future, to the fragments and the branches. And tell no one else about it, about the divergences and the dangers. And no matter what make sure that the worst never happens. Because if you raze that village to the ground I will never do anything for you again.”

“Very well.” Scaramouche replied, wary of what was to come ahead. A part of him brimmed with curiosity, with the wish to glimpse inside a piece of your life; yet another part of him balked at the unsaid accusation, the idea that this venture was destined to end in failure, as if he couldn’t make sure a simple plan succeed.

“Good.”

“Come to my tent after dinner.” Scaramouche turned to go.

“Wait.”

“Yes?” Scaramouche turned back around. Your gaze was somewhat surprised, though whether it was by his actions or you words he couldn’t tell.

“I…”

"Yes?”

Scaramouche stepped closer to you. The odd expression that you’d last given him in your tent had returned, filling the Harbinger’s mind with questions. He once more felt that odd pull, the pull to be close to you, to stare, as if trying to read something incomprehensible in your expression. You leaned closer to him and he absentmindedly thought of how distinct your presence was, how he wished that it would continue to float in front of him. It was like a warm current, powerful and steadfast, dragging him somewhere he couldn’t explain yet wanted to go.

The brush of your fingers against his finally brought Scaramouche back to the present. Drawing back slightly he glanced away, embarrassed by his sudden lack of presence.

“You were saying.”

“I was? Oh! Yes…” you trailed off before shaking your head violently, cheeks slightly flushed. “Just remember not to tell anyone.”

And with that you were gone, leaving Scaramouche feeling somewhat lacking, as if he’d gained something by being next to you which was once more lost. Sighing the Harbinger thought about your parting words. The reminder of another deal, yet this one he couldn’t be sure to keep. After all, the information he possessed belonged to the Tsaritsa. If she were to ever inquire about it he’d have to tell her.

He thought back to your conversation, the pitying words you’d given him. Question the Tsaritsa? How naïve you were. And yet Scaramouche still felt that odd emptiness around him. He’d never truly understood the concept of loneliness, the need for others being a necessity for the masses. And yet as he stood there, standing amid tents with no one in sight, he suddenly felt very alone indeed.