#he demands the finest silk!!!!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
captain-crowfish · 2 years ago
Text
What if Snatcher actually did earn the White hat?
Tumblr media
Assuming his attempted genocide was more than just an attempt. Is this going to be a full fleshed AU? I dunno.
32 notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 9 months ago
Text
Simon who works for UPS. He delivers packages as per usual and ends up at your house. He picks up the massive box with ease from the back of his work truck, barely a grunt in effort, and places it down at your front door.
He knocks because goddamn fucking company demanding signatures for packages people buy is just absurd.
Then you open the door.
Maybe it's just him, who's a burly man with shoulders that're too broad and height that in some entrances he has to duck lest he smacks his forehead on the door frame but you...
are small.
Soft looking thing, too. Hands look smooth and delicate; probably never lifted anything heavier than a grocery bag. Fragile, like the contents inside the box you've ordered.
"Sir?" your voice is soft, gentle; just like what you look like.
"Need your signature for this, apologies for the bother, ma'am."
The signature machine is already small on its own, but in his bear-like hand, it's dwarfed. It lets him hold it in its entirety, so that your fingers are forced to brush against his to sign.
Skin is like the finest silk, and so very warm against his leathery flesh.
Polar opposites.
He thickly swallows the pooling saliva in his mouth.
"It wouldn't be too much trouble to, uhm, help me bring that in, just right here by the couch."
A shame the living room is right by the entrance.
"I can do tha'."
He bends his strong legs, curling his fingers under the bottom of the box and lifts on an inhale.
Simon doesn't miss the way your pretty eyes widen a fraction at his strength, either.
As you take numerous strides, it takes only three of his to reach the couch and stand before it.
Bitty.
"Right here is perfect, thank you."
The box thuds on your white tile floor when he places it down, and quickly turns to leave, but bumps into you instead. You yelp and stumble backwards as if he'd pushed you back with two hands.
Puny.
"Apologies," he murmurs while steadying you by gripping your forearm firmly.
Apologies, because sorry implies regret, which he doesn't have. Certainly not when he's got a tiny feel of your soft body against his sturdy one.
He reluctantly lets go, and heads for the door, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable. (or scare you off so soon- he's only just laid eyes on you)
"Thank you for the help! Have a good day!"
Simon gives you a small wave and hops into the drivers seat.
His day is already that much better, especially since his sharp eyes noticed a lack of jewelry on your left hand.
He's already memorized your address, too.
Simon tells himself to wait at least a week before 'mistakenly' dropping off a package at your house.
7K notes · View notes
ghostarii · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SILK STRINGS & PEARL RINGS, SCARAMOUCHE
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ʚɞ kisses with the weight of pain and bruises colored like love — his heart hits like a punch and you’re the sucker to catch it.
WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, referred to as kuni, impact play, asphyxiation, biting / marking, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, praise, creampie, overstimulation, more scaramouche than wanderer, minors & dc antis do not interact!
NOTE ݈݇- hey . . hey . . how y’all doin ^w^ ive been gone a while becuz tumblr wasnt it anymore nd life was lifeing ! am back now bc i missed u guys nd missed being a freak :c theres sm of u now — thank u sm for 900+! ! i loveee youu loads xoxoxooo Anywayyy i hope u enjoy this quick littl drabble to flex my muscles :3
WORD COUNT ݈݇- 1.1k
Tumblr media Tumblr media
LIMBS LIKE STRINGS OF silk: soft, pliable, and delicate, all in the hands of an unworthy sinner. His rough callouses rub burning patches on your skin as he runs his hands across your supple skin. Even the finest silks blemish under unclean hands and you are no exception — you're the example.
The name he bears stumbles out of your mouth in broken gasps and he only wishes you would shut up; he tells you again and again in hopes of your compliance, to no avail. Your voice is a constant reminder of who he is to you and, otherwise, who he’s destroying for superficial, fleeting pleasure. He’s far too deep to pull away now and scurry away—he has no choice but to double down and bump the sense out of your brain in hopes of fogging your memory. It works in a skewed way: condensing your mind to the two syllables of his name. “Kuni! Kun—i!! God, Kuni—!!!” Your pitiful screeches play on broken recurrences.
And as the master weaver he is, your pleasure is sewn up to its peak for what feels like the millionth time. Your body quakes and trembles, quivering under his weight and attempting an escape jaggedly. A hearty, choked-up whine jumps out of your chest, “Sto—I can’t! K-Kuni, please—!”
Deaf ears ignore your cries and pound deeper, harder—slamming his pelvic bone against your twitching clit. His hands move from the expanse of the mattress to your neck: pressing you into the mattress with pressure on the sides of your neck just right. “Shut the fuck up,” he grits, rolling his hips into you. “Just shut up and take it.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, lashes fluttering rapidly as, quickly, your brain computes nothing but pleasure.
His hips snap against you with such intensity, that it makes you feel like he hates you. It borders on painful, eliciting sharp lightning rods to pierce and prod around your body. The sheer weight of this impassioned thrusting has you jolting up the bed and thrashing around under him, looking to escape the white-hot harvest of pleasure pulsing in your pussy.
On top of you, he burns a pretty rose that can only be described as fire. The tight grip around his cock fills his head with foggy air—but it's the wetness that spools around his length: splat, splat, splat, that sings out the lost orgasms from rounds previous and ample arousal. It’s that that has him grumbling out blurbs of pleasure, chasing his orgasm that rests in your depths.
Every sensation is heightened tenfold with the ever-demanding charge that is being fed in your tummies. Every pulse, squeeze, leak, prod—all of it is akin to plugging you up to an orgasm charge-port and capping off the battery.
It’s too much; you scream that out enough until you can't gather enough air to breathe, let alone speak. Kuni agrees with you but he really, really, wishes you would shut up. He can't think and with every sound you make, he’s urged on in this unshakeable, carnivorous desperation to fuck harder. He's not immune to pleasure; he may be more susceptible to its threats, in fact. Knitted brows and screwed eyes blind him to the overstimulated writhing you enact, wriggling under his touch in vain hopes of reprieve.
Tears stream down your cheeks to mix with a layer of slobber splayed on your skin—a pitifully nasty mess, born out of the relentless palms of your man. He has the liberty to see you at your most vulnerable: degeneracy painting itself all over your body. A beautifully disgusting mess, you are, and he only makes it worse.
Stirring around your guts is his angry hard-on, circling your walls in shaky rolling manners, letting you both rest against the other and heave out deep breaths. The tip grinds against your g-spot and has you whimpering weakly, slapping his forearms and rolling your stomach. “I’m gonna—”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grits, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging your head to the left. The stinging burn that dances at your roots has you wincing and whining, scrunching your face up. “Hold it.”
“I c-can’t, Kuni!” Just as the words leave your mouth, his hips are re-angled to push up into your pussy, the right-bound hook he sports curving right up to a gummy cushion in your walls. They contract around him and he groans, tightening his grip on your hair.
He dives into you, letting his hands grip your waist as his head wedges itself between your chin and shoulder. “Get it through your thick fucking skull,” he berates, nipping your collarbone. “You can't cum until I say so,”
His hips grind upward, drilling his dick deep into your depths that the hoarseness in your voice is shaken off for a shrill yelp to be squeezed out. He laughs at you menacingly, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to then circle the mark with his tongue. “Take it like a good bitch and I may be nice to you.”
Not a word he said will be upheld. You're so good—the best girl for him and he still dangles your release in front of you. Like a dog to a thick bone, you pant and whine in anticipation of being thrown your Achilles heel.
Exhaustion catches up to him and he can only lazily rock into you. His left hand presses on your stomach as he does so, trapping pressure in your tummy and mixing deliciously with your pleasure.
Heat swims beneath your skin and spills out beads of perspiration, gluing your bodies together.
Proximity; your bodies are so close and burning up fervent flames that swallow you down. Like the pliable silk you are, you slip around under his hold and that knot your stomach is tied up in easily unwinds.
“You’re coming, aren't you?” He shakily asks, exhaling deeply. If you aren't, he is.
Your non-answer is answer enough—he moans pathetically in your ear, falling apart as he ruts into you.
Holding on is a thing of the past as he slams against your sweet spot, unfurling his orgasm into you in milky ropes. Simultaneously, you release your biggest orgasm yet, splashing against his stomach and streaming down your legs. The pressure pushes him out with a grunt, a sadistic laugh of his echoing in your head.
Your swollen pussy is shining in pearlescent, bubbled strings, rolling out of you in a gushing mix. Oh, it's nasty; and you're utterly destroyed—flushed and blemished and patterned in bites, bruises, and prints. Your lips are swollen and bitten; your eyes are low-lidded and teary; your face is sweaty and tear-stained; your body quivers and spasms and Kuni thinks that you've never looked better.
Reprieve only lasts a mere moment before your legs are pushed up to your shoulders, spreading and stretching your limbs to their limits. Drawing out a whine, you speak hoarsely, “What’re you doing? No more..”
“I never told you to cum, did I?”
A break quickly becomes a distant memory.
Tumblr media
569 notes · View notes
arkhammaid · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ OF DRAGON BEHAVIOUR AND OLDE TRADITIONS. 
Tumblr media
fandom. genshin impact
pairings. neuvillette, zhongli x gn!reader
content warnings. sfw + nsfw, MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, heavily influenced by 'dragon' behaviour (is a bit leaned on a/b/o), 5 + 1 fic type (the + 1 is nsfw), possessive neuvie/zhongli, sfw: collaring, scenting, marking, nsfw: nesting, both of them have big dicks lol, talk about breeding, not edited/proofread, written in lowercase
word count. 1.8k
notes. i'm so down bad...
Tumblr media
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ flaunting. 
once a dragon is mated, they like to show off their mate proudly. to enhance their physical aspects and to proclaim their trust in them, mates get draped in the dragon’s treasures. treasures this mythical beast usually hoards with jealousy. the shinier and bigger the treasures, the higher is the mate in social standing. 
neuvillette is less lavish with his treasures, simply because his priorities in his riches lay elsewhere. this is why you often where the brightest pearls, adoring your neck or shiny shells around your wrists. he enhances your beauty much subtler, but nonetheless you’re still worthy to be called his mate. after all, he’s a dragon of water, it’s only right for him to drape you in the gifts of the sea. 
zhongli prefers you in the finest silk and your skin adored with gold and other treasures found in the rich land that belongs to him. as a dragon of earth and especially as geo archon, all the gems are crafted in the most beautiful jewelry. everything to enhance your beauty. he especially likes you in cor lapis, a jewel in a color that he claims as his— and seeing you in this soft hue of orange swells pride in him. 
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ collaring. 
collaring can be seen as a step further of flaunting. the dragon creates an individual collar for their mate, to not only protect one of the weakest points of their body, their neck, but to also immediately signal that they belong to them. it signals protection and ownership, which is why mates rarely part with their gifted collars,as they’re also the first gift they receive as a dragon’s mate.
neuvillette knows that collars, by human standards, are not something normal. this is why he takes great care to create a collar that not only shows his strength but also fits within the domain the two of you move. this is why your collar is not a traditional one, instead resembling a tight necklace adorned by pearls and silver. it’s just enough to calm his instincts but also a fashionable item— one for which you’ve received many compliments. 
zhongli on the other hand has crafted a collar of which his elders would be proud of. it’s heavy on your neck, made by his own hands and not your usual jewelry. despite that, the collar is made by the best gems and jewels zhongli could find, and of course in his colors. and to ensure you’re comfortable wearing such a heavy collar, the inner side is embellished with the most expensive velvet he could find. 
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ acknowledgement. 
another important aspect between the relationship of a dragon and their mate is the acknowledgement of the hunt. once the dragon has successfully brought home the game, it is now up to the mate to appraise said game. only once they give their approval can the food be shared between them. this also includes all their offspring. 
neuvillette is always very careful with the food he brings to you. he ensures he’s the only one touching it, as tradition demands, and satisfactory enough for your plate. to him, keeping you fed and happy is much more important than to take care of his own needs. even when you always scold him, when he neglects himself, in this aspect he won’t bulge. 
zhongli himself has a very expensive taste and only the best is just good enough for his mate. no matter what you say, he will hunt on his own and pick all the herbs and berries himself, or else he wouldn’t even present the food. your approval is the highest praise, only one of the many reasons why zhongli takes so much care and time to honor this tradition. 
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ scenting. 
scenting is one of the few habits and traditions that are more intimate. a dragon scents their mate for several reasons. firstly, it’s one of the final steps of their ‘ownership’ over the mate. clothed in their treasure but also bathed in their scent. secondly, the process itself is very calming for the dragon, almost meditative. 
neuvillette likes to scent you when he comes home. it calms not only his dragon but also his mind. because of that, he never scents you in public, thinking it as a private matter and a treasured one added to that. it’s not something others should witness— you in his arms, pliant to his nosing, his gentle kisses and nibs on your skin and especially when he removes your collar to scent you on your neck. 
zhongli, despite being an old dragon, behaves as if he’s freshly mated and a young blood when it comes to scenting you. he dislikes smelling others on you or any artificial scent that’s not you. he has no shame scenting you in public, but over the years living with you he has reduced to the almost scandalous behaviour to nothing more but scenting on your wrists and a quick nosing on your cheeks. 
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ marking. 
marking is quite similar to scenting, only this behaviour varies from dragon to dragon. for some, a so called ‘mate-bite’ is enough, others like to add new markings everytime they couple with their mate. but there are even some dragons, who enjoy being marked by their mates, a most unusual behaviour. 
neuvillette has always enjoyed marking you, but is very gentle with it. his mate-bite, another physical sign that you belong to him, is located on your right shoulder, a wound healed a long time ago. he much prefers when you mark him, your teeth sinking in his much sturdier flesh. it leaves him breathless, just the mere thought of you marking him making his head spin— he loves to leave his marks on you, but he even loves it more when you mark him, to tell the whole world that he belongs to you. 
zhongli always loves to admire the marks his sharp teeth leave behind, trace his fingers over your reddened skin— he’s fascinated by your vulnerability and your eagerness to please him. but what matters most to him is that you love to wear his marks, never hesitate to show them off by not hiding them. social decorum would demand for you to hide them away behind draped fabrics, but instead you proudly wear them, as if they’re badges of highest honor. 
— ˚₊‧⁺˖ nesting. 
as every other animal, be it mythical or not, dragons go through a cycle. at it’s highest point, their fertility is much more prominent. to ensure the increased chances of success in producing offspring, the biology of dragons demands them to nest during the cycle. if the dragon ignores this inner instinct, it grows irritated or even aggressive to everyone who is not their mate. nesting ensures the comfort of both the dragon and their mate and helps them to properly prepare for their coupling. 
the moment the first child of the couple is born, nesting becomes a daily thing until said child passes the first stages of growth. the dragon builds a nest in their den, a different one from the ones in which the parents couple, and ensures that both mate and offspring are within this nest. the warmth and scent of both parents help the child to imprint on them and to recognize them later on as their sires. 
neuvillette, when it comes to nesting, is very picky about it. his nest has to be ready before his cycle starts and you have to be in it as well, pliant and ready for him. if you’re not comfortable, he gets stressed and that doesn't end well. 
for the most part, he has his instincts under control, but when you’re in his nest, naked and flushed, he tends to get feral. and once he lets go of that tight control he has over himself and his body, the dragon in him comes out. 
his pupils turning to slits, fangs sharpening and nails becoming claws. scales appear on his skin, his horns grow— neuvillette lets go of his human skin and becomes the closest he can be to a dragon without hurting you. it always excites you, seeing your usual calm and stoic mate all excited about the thought of breeding you. 
he’s an attentive lover, even if he could just slide into your hole and start fucking you stupid. instead he takes immense care to prepare you, hours even, lips and hands leaving marks on your skin while he makes you cum on his tongue several times. 
and then, when you see stars behind your closed eyes, your thighs shake around his head and you try to calm your breath— then he slowly slides into you, his giant cock hitting you in all right places, making you scream again—
then, only then, when you’re pliant and open for him, a flushing mess beneath his massive body and moaning his name— only then he would truly start to fuck you. 
zhongli is very attentive during nesting, but especially as your lover. he always puts your needs above his, simply because he finds pleasure when you enjoy yourself. 
despite being mated for a long time, you’re always nervous about nesting, especially about the most intimate part of it. zhongli is big and it’s always a tight fit, even if he prepares you with his fingers and mouth. you’re never in pain, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he would make you cry, but you’re still understandably nervous. 
zhongli doesn’t mind it, he understands and instead makes sure you’re distracted enough to not lose yourself in spiraling thoughts. it also helps when you’re breathless from the countless orgasms he has already given you, your hole wet enough, almost gushing, so the slide is smooth and painless for you. 
and you can’t lie, you enjoy his big dick, but sometimes it’s too overwhelming. yet the many years together has taught him many tricks and especially things you enjoy. 
you flush beneath him, when he starts praising you, his rich voice causing goosebumps all over your body. you whimper, when his fangs craze over your skin and moan when he actually bites you. 
but you truly lose your mind when he starts fucking you, slow but deep thrusts, taking his time while you writhe beneath him. it seems so effortless, how he’s destroying you, as if he isn’t going crazy when his mate is in his nest, calling his name, clinging onto him, begging him to go faster, harder, begging for more. 
Tumblr media
taglist. @trailblazernet , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @verxsyon , @auraxins , @lupicalbestwolf , @the-dumber-scaramouche , @spiriteddreams , @kiiyoooo , @8-xnny , @spiriteddreams
DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).
Tumblr media
ARKHAM MAID 2023
4K notes · View notes
trulyumai · 4 months ago
Text
benevolence
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
—pairing: emperor geta / wife! reader
—synopsis: you were hurt and geta was determined to find the man responsible.
—warnings: mentions of hitting, violence, grabbing. geta trying to be patient.
a/n: this was a request; thank you anonymous!
Enjoy!
Brown sandals slapped against the floor. With ease, the emperor moved quickly. For the man was furious; choosing to seek out his wife to see if the rumors were true.
General Acacius, to hear such a rumor from his own general? How unbecoming.
The man had seeked the emperor out with hushed words, whispering to him the betrayal that had occurred. Geta wasted no time to seek you out. 
His guards stood behind, albeit a little more distanced, as the man stormed through the temple, mumbling incessant curses and threats. They didn't dare get into the ginger's way as he strode across the building, shoving anything and anyone out of his way. 
It couldn’t stop raining today, and he knew exactly where to find you. 
The chamber balcony. 
Always watching— staring into the valley with wonder as rain would soak your being. He would always be furious with you when this occurred, yelling that you would be sick. Sick over your own doing, watching a silly weather phenomenon. You would only smile, invite him to join you with wet hands and a sappy expression. Most of the time he would decline, calling it foolish and dumb. But sometimes (usually when he was drunk), he would allow himself to grace your presence. Feel the rain drench his clothes as you lean into his warmth, kissing up his arm and up his shoulder. 
He adored it. 
Slamming his ringed hands across the wooden door, it groaned open. The doors met with the stone walls laid behind, letting out a loud bang. 
You laid unaware. And unfortunately for you, he was right. You were on the balcony, protected by the awning as rain came crashing down upon the stone. It was peaceful. Beautiful. Any other time he would admire your body. The curves and supple areas that made you; you. Always dressed in the finest silks that clung to your body deliciously. 
“My wife,” a deep voice gave way, dragging your once distracted thoughts. Turning, you saw how Geta made his way to you, veiny hands already reaching out for your form.
They connected with your face, sprawling across your cheeks with ease. 
“Is it true?” Anger held onto each word, with his eyes staring right through you. Full of fire—  his orbs held such contempt, a hatred so deep that it made you shudder.��
He wanted to grab you by the throat, drag you across the floors and demand you to explain. Explain why a bruise littered across your face like it belonged there.
No words needed to be said; afterall, the proof lay before him. 
A black and purple bruise lay sprawled upon your jaw, up your cheek and ending just before your right eye. 
A growl escaped the emperor's lips, and with a quick raise of his hand, dismissed the guards behind him. 
Their armor— white and golden, shined bright against the dimly lit room. For all the candles lay burnt out, unused. You wanted to lay in darkness, remembering how you fell upon the chamber in shakes and tears, not wanting to light the injuries that fell upon you. 
Now alone, Geta demanded again. Although softer, his voice held so much anger. It was rough and callous, just as much as his knuckles were when they began smoothing over the affected area.
“Tell me,” the emperor implored. 
“Tell me and it will be dealt with. I will—”
“You’ll what?” A sniffle sounded out. It was so hard not to burst out in tears.
“You’ll find the afflicter? And then what, what will happen to him?” 
Geta snarled, blue veins sprouted through his forehead in unfiltered rage. 
“What does it matter? Why leave such a worthless being alive.” Grabbing the back of your neck, he pushed forward. Now, your head forced its way back to glance upwards at the taller man. 
Thunder roared out, only spurring the man further. His eyes were so bright today. 
Full of swelling emotions, ready to burst at any given moment. 
“Please,” you whispered, raising your shaking hands to his cheeks. They were rough, stubble tickled your fingers as they grazed over the skin with a loving gentleness. “No one has to die.” 
Geta scoffed against your hold, refusing to meet your dewy gaze.
“Someone will pay, dear wife. I don’t need your consent.” 
“It was an accident— 
“Enough!” Geta grabbed at your small hands, squeezing them uncontrollably. A cry left your lips as the pressure grew, a pain kneaded and flowed through your palms as the man tore them from his face. 
“You’ll tell me. Now.” Tears dribbled down your lashes, meeting with the soft skin of your cheeks until they met with your chin. 
“I— I can’t.” 
“Did he threaten you?” 
You shook your head, the hair around your shoulders moved with the action. 
“If I tell you, he’ll die. There’s no mistaking that. I can’t… I can’t rightfully send a man to his death for such a foolish reason.” 
Deep breaths, Geta, deep breaths. His chest rose and sank slowly, to calm the raging waves battling against the walls of his sanity. 
“Wife,” he began. Molding his forehead on yours, he forced eye contact. Now inches away he began to wipe at your tear stained cheeks. 
“This will be no fault of yours. This man? His fate has already been set. The moment he made contact with you, it became inevitable.” 
“But—,” 
“I will not hear more of it. This cannot go unpunished. How would we look if such a thing went without discipline? The word is already traveling, little wife.” 
Fingers kneaded down to your neck, brushing the hair back with a gentle care. 
“Please,” he whispered to you. 
“Tell me now.” 
Lip wobbling, you gave in. Form slackened against his, sobs escaped you. 
“The— the new servant.”
Geta’s brows furrowed. He tried to think— imagine the useless being his wife was referencing, but nothing came to mind. 
Seeing your husband’s confusion, you shakily spoke again. 
“The one with, with the scar?” 
Instantly, recognition flowed through the man’s squinted eyes. 
He pictured the brunette man. He was short, squatty. A scar was plastered upon his face, distorting it and contorting it against its will. 
He remembered bringing it up upon their first meeting. Comparing the man to an Oxen’s behind. 
He remembered how the man bowed pathetically before him. Telling his grace of the accident. 
Geta spat at his feet then. He had leaned forward upon his throne and called out, “And what makes you think I care about your formed impudence?” 
Your sobs brought him back. They battled against the rain that patterned down against the stone walkway. 
Your form slumped down, head now cascaded down upon his sandaled feet. 
Geta did nothing to comfort you. 
He wanted to. Gods, did he want to. 
If he was any other man, he would whisper sweet nothings to you. Brush your tears away with a brush of a hand and carry you back inside. 
But he was the emperor. 
Geta, the unbreaking 
Geta, the undying. 
His form moved away, leaving you to drown upon the tears that overwhelmed your being. His feet carried on, not stopping for each broken sob or the way you mumbled his name pathetically. 
He now knows of the perpetrator; and justice was soon to be delivered, whether it was with you at his side, or not. 
Geta would serve it. 
Tumblr media
426 notes · View notes
daceydeath · 5 months ago
Text
Her Knight
Tumblr media
Pairing: Knight San x Princess Reader Word Count: 6.3k Genre: Fantasy AU, Romance, Smut Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol, Explicit Activities
Another ball to attend another prince to meet but your Knight in shining armor is always there to save you.
Another god forsaken ball, with more god forsaken suitors that were either inbred or as exciting as drapery but your father insisted that you find a suitable match before your next name day celebration so that you would have time to plan an appropriate wedding for that of a future queen. Your only semblance of comfort was that this would be the last ball of the season and if no match was found you would be free for at least the winter months before the next ball season began so that you could spend another season mustering the courage to tell your father that you didn't want to marry a prince your heart belonged to someone else. Marriage to a man you barely knew was the last thing you wanted you had barely even seen your twentieth winter and you still had so much you wanted to do before your freedom was taken from you by an man, who would most likely spend his time demanding you remain demure and dull so that he could live out his fantasy of being a king to a mighty kingdom, regardless of the fact it would be your queendom not his. So you once again were being strapped into a corset so tight you would only be able to drink and not eat and a gown so heavy it would surely leave bruises on your hips from the weight.
Standing before the ornate mirror in your chambers your ladies in waiting scampered around collecting under skirts, ribbons, jewels and shoes to make the dressing process easier for you but all it ended up doing was giving you a headache as they argued whether the diamonds, pearls, gold looked better with your attire. As the princess royal you were expected to be dressed to a level of opulence that few could match dresses of the finest silks and velvets, covered in jewels and gold threads were common place for you and so the aristocrats and minor royals followed your lead having clothes tailored in whatever shades you wore.  Normally you stuck to a pastel gowns that were covered in lightweight sheer layers that, while looking beautiful, allowed you to move a little more freely, tonight you had picked a black gown that was heavily embellished with gold, your corset whilst covered in not just gold but also pearls and small semi precious stones. It was excessive in every way and that was exactly what you wanted, two younger sons of the neighboring kingdom were set to be in attendance and you wanted very much to drive them away with your wasteful appearance so they would see being matched to you more of a burden than an asset.
"your highness?" Your handmaid interrupted your daydreaming to help you begin dressing "If you would be so kind as to hold the bed frame we can begin your lacings" she smiled meekly, being careful to speak respectfully.
"Of course Bessy" you smiled not caring if your ladies in waiting were listening, your handmaids were your friends and you wouldn't treat them poorly just because of their station in life. Moving to grasp the wood tightly Bessy and her assistance Clara pulled each lace viciously, knocking the air from your lungs each time until finally Bessy placed her knee against your back for one last tug to ensure you were properly cinched in, leaving you breathing as heavily as you could.
Your ladies in waiting sat you down to begin fussing with your hair and makeup, you could always style yourself but you found it easier to just sit and be preened within an inch of your life.
"Princess, I must tell you what I heard about Prince Heeseung!" Lady Lisbeth whispered excitedly pinning your hair up into an elegant updo "I heard he has rejected three other kingdoms invites to meet you tonight and that he has high hopes of securing your hand over his brother".  
"I heard that his brother Prince Sunghoon has already found a paramour but is keeping her hidden so he is only playing the part of the competitive brother" Lady Hari interjected quickly before lowering her voice so that only you could hear her as she powdered your skin "But that would give you freedom if you allowed him to bring her with him".
"I wouldn't count on a match being made tonight though" Lady Sana smiled at you in the mirror giving you a sly wink "The knights of the realm have returned from your fathers conquest today so tonight will probably turn rowdy quite quickly with war stories and drunken antics".
"Anything to get me a few more months you couldn't help but mumble as Lady Sana moved to latch the Queen's Jewel around your throat, a large oval solitaire diamond that showed your rank and lineage, it hung heavily just below you collarbones shining brilliantly in the flickering light.
"Did they all return?" you asked almost indifferently hoping to look more concerned with their wellbeing for the kingdom's sake and not your own.
"Not all returned princess, but most have arrived back safely and triumphantly" Lady Hari answered, looking at you pleased with your appearance.
"Father must be very pleased then, I will make sure to congratulate both father and his loyal knights during the festivities then" you smiled with faux enthusiasm knowing that at least while congratulating the returned knights you would be free from your suitors advances, provided they were interested.
You bid you ladies farewell for the time being and waited until it was just you and your maids remaining within hearing range making sure your quarters were completely empty.
"Bessy how many did we lose?" you inquired trying to keep your voice even despite how nervous you were "and do you know who made it back safely?".
"Only two fell and five more were injured but made it back" Bessy smiled leaning in closer to you just to be safe from any prying ears "your favorite knights are all well though Ser San is expected to be rewarded for his bravery in rescuing Ser Yunho and Ser Mingi from enemy forces".
"Excellent, that's excellent" you breathed a sigh of relief "I have not got many friends Bessy, just you and the few maids that are purely my own and the knights who have to guard me. I don't want to lose any of you".
"You won't lose us your highness we will be with you until you decide otherwise" Bessy grinned, her and Clara, preparing your gown to finally be placed over all of your underskirts to complete your outfit and prepare you to go to the ballroom to greet your fathers guests.
Taking a final sip of wine you brushed the velvet of your skirt down one last time before opening the door to your quarters to find the guard who would take you to the ballroom. You prepared yourself for another night of dodging advances and hopefully leaving bad impressions on men who would marry you for a power play.  Sansa and Hari stood at the top of the grand staircase waiting for you to make your entry. The minstrels were quietened and the beginning of your title announced  before you stepped into view of the crowd of onlooking guests.
"May we present the Princess Royal, First of her Family and Heir to the Crown of Eastwood" he called loudly into the cavernous room as you felt all eyes fall on you and your attire. When you made the first landing the minstrels began to play and the buzz of the guests continuing their conversations filled the room once more leaving you free to make your way to your father and hopefully to begin the round of slow congratulations of his returned knights, who all looked resplendently dashing in their black and red military uniforms.
"My sweetest daughter" your father called to you clapping his hands loudly as you made your way through the crowd.
"Your only daughter father" you teased back grinning as he stretched his arms out to take your hands.
"You look particularly beautiful tonight my child" he smiled toothily before pulling you gently towards him to kiss your cheek.
"I heard your brave knights have returned, father and triumphantly at that" you beamed "you must be so pleased with their success I must congratulate them for honoring you".
"They did, and you should, they will be your knights one day and you should treat them with the respect their loyalty deserves." he nodded seriously as you tried your hardest to appear that you were focusing on his words with absolute concentration "You will make a fine ruler one day child, but first you must meet the Princes from Northwilds they have traveled far to attend this evening". You dutifully smiled and nodded letting your father escort you towards a group of men in deep blue and gold ensembles which you assumed to be military style uniforms from the Nothwilds kingdom. All ten of them bowed deeply when they noticed your father's and your presence.
"King Arin, we thank you for this generous invitation Eastwood is a most beautiful kingdom" A tall rather handsome man stepped forward taking your father's hand and bowing again to place his forehead against your father's ring which contained the royal seal.
"Prince Heeseung, I am most delighted you could make the trip, I realize that Northwilds is quite a journey from us. This is my daughter the Princess Royal" he introduced you, letting you curtsy despite you being of higher rank than either of the princes.
"We are most blessed to make your acquaintance" Prince Heeseung bowed, stretching out his hand to take yours and kiss the back of it softly. "This is my brother Prince Sunghoon" he gestured behind himself for his brother to step forward and greet your father and then yourself, also pressing a kiss to the back of your hand although so featherlight you almost didn't feel it.
"The pleasure is mine Prince Heeseung, Prince Sunghoon" you smiled demurely trying to remain as neutral as possible so you didn't garner too much interest from them.
"I will leave you to mingle, child, but you should remember to thank the knights before the evening is over" your father winked no doubt, noticing your not particularly keen interaction with the brothers.
"Of course father, I won't neglect my duties to the kingdom" you bowed your head as he stepped away no doubt looking for a drink. Sana made her way to your side instantly replacing your fathers place at your side, taking your hand she squeezed it once to let you know it was he as you continued to smile at the princes.
"Princess, you look exquisite tonight" Heeseung complimented softly as his brother stepped back to engage back into the conversation he was having with his entourage.
"You look quite dashing yourself Prince Heeseung" you smiled tightly not enjoying the awkwardness of first meetings "Tell me what is the Northwilds like? I have yet to travel that far yet, father doesn't let me travel too far from the kingdom" you explained hoping that he would bring up anything about his kingdom that you could find interesting and prompt some sort of discourse.
"I have heard it can snow there for months at a time, is that true?" Sana asked, hoping to help further the conversation.
"Please call me Heeseung, I am of lesser rank than you Princess" he smiled hopefully at you "Northwilds can be bitterly cold in winter. It is true it snows nearly all of winter but it is quite pleasant in the summer and early autumn. We have quite a few lakes and forests which makes for pleasant day trips"  he continued.
"Oh I do like spending time near the water" Sana gushed beaming at him "Don't you your Highness?".
"Yes I do enjoy picnics by the waterfront and also horseback riding. Do you have good horses in Northwilds? I imagine they would be hardy creatures" you answered politely, noticing that Heeseung's eyes were firmly locked on Sana as she batted her eyelashes and giggled softly.
"Our horses are the most sturdy of all the kingdoms" Heeseung nodded, obviously enjoying the attention Sana was giving him.
"I should attend the greeting of our returned knights, Lady Sana, would you keep Prince Heeseung entertained until I return? and ensure both he and his brother are comfortable" you touched her shoulder gently in a gesture of thanks.
"Of course Princess, it would be my greatest honor" she gushed enthusiastically letting you make your exit without any protest from either of the princes.
Wandering towards the outer edge of the room you were sure you would find at least one knight trying to avoid an over eager dowager who wanted to thank him more than was warranted or wanted. Sure enough you found Ser Seonghwa desperately looking for a pillar to hide behind as an aristocrat made her way across the crowd towards him.
"Ser Seonghwa" You called, stepping into his line of vision and watching him visibly relax knowing you would give him an excuse to not speak to the older woman, who now looked quite put out that you had stolen the object of her desire.  
"Princess Royal" he greeted bowing deeply to you.
"I had heard you had returned today and victorious" you grinned "I was hoping I could thank you all for honoring my father so valiantly".
"It is our honor honestly Princess" he smiled again, his handsome face lighting up "May I escort you to some of the other knights, your highness?"
"Yes please Ser Seonghwa, I would love to thank you all personally for your efforts" you continued taking his arm and allowing him to guide you towards the back of the ballroom where the large windows and open gilt doors spilt light out into the gardens. "I also thought I might be able to save you for a little while, Seonghwa" you whispered once you got closer to your destination.
"I cannot thank you enough," Seonghwa grinned. "It will help boost the others that you would wish to spend some time with us lowly knights rather than the Princes from Northwilds".
"Believe me you lot are much preferred company" you smirked as he led you onto the lit terrace, large glass containers filled with candles surrounding the entire area to keep it as well lit as possible despite it not being twilight yet.
"Look who I found in my travels" Seonghwa called to a cluster of men dressed in identical uniforms, they didn't even need to turn around for you to know exactly who each of them was having spent enough time milling around the training grounds in hoping one of them would take pity on you and give you some sword fighting lessons or teach you archery, which they eventually did. You had become friends over those years and you began to treat each other as equals rather than what your ranks demanded, even if it had to occur mainly in secret.
"If it's another kitchen girl I would say don't bother, you always strike out with the kitchen staff" Ser Hongjoong yelled cheekily before his eyes landed on you walking at Seonghwa's side. "Princess Royal, what are you doing out here?" they all instantly stood at attention facing you.
"At ease I'm alone" you laughed watching them all relax again "I wanted to see how you were I didn't know you were back until a few hours ago".
"We're mostly intact" Hongjoong admitted softly as you let go of your hold on Seonghwa's arm to touch Hongjoong's shoulder affectionately.
"What does mostly intact mean? I wanted you to come back whole" you pouted taking in each of their appearances "Yunho, Mingi you're hurt" you couldn’t help the way your voice raised an octave as you moved to look at them closer your large black gown swishing against all of their legs as you passed them. Your hands fluttering uselessly over Yunho's bandaged hand and arm which bulged under his dress coat and Mingi with obvious bruising to his face.
"War doesn't leave you intact Princess" Jongho sighed, his eyes meeting yours sadly.
"Sana told me that some of you fell. Who? Who did we lose?" you asked carefully knowing that such a tight knit group would be sensitive to the loss of a friend and comrade.
"Changbin and Seungmin are gone, Felix and Minho are pretty badly injured. Chan and a few of the others are staying with them around the clock in case the worse happens they can send for help faster" Wooyoung grimaced.
"Fuck" you breathed shakily lamenting the loss of good men “I’m so sorry”.
"Did you just say fuck?" Seonghwa blinked, unsure if he had heard you correctly.
"Yes? I swear all the time when you teach me how to fight, have you only just noticed?" you enquired confused.
"You say crap, quim womble and bollocks, once I heard you say shit but never fuck" Hongjoong roared laughing while Yeosang, San and Mingi all smirked.
"Well now you have heard me say fuck congratulations" you rolled your eyes quickly looking around San's broad shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear your profanity.
"It's just soldiers out here Princess" San smiled warmly looking down at you, you almost lost yourself in them but remembered yourself and decided to look at his dimple instead.
"Can't be too careful, I saved Seonghwa from a dowager but right now you are saving me from Prince Heeseung" you joked, nudging his chest with your shoulder.
“There is no way we can hide you though not in that dress at least" Mingi teased looking you up and down exaggeratedly.
"It is true you outshine every other woman here" Jongho whistled "must be looking to impress a prince tonight".
"More like hoping to horrify one" you smirked, poking your tongue out at him "I hope they will see me as frivolous and vapid so they don't want to stay". You were happy to admit your plan to them you knew they would never tell a soul.
“Why don’t you just tell your father you don’t want to marry?” Yunho shook his head clearly amused with your plan.
“Because unlike you Yunho I don’t get a lot of say in when I get married, father has decided it will be in the summer so I have that long to convince him to let me marry someone I actually like or he will pick for me”. You sighed trying to keep the sadness off of your face “I don’t really want to get stuck with some horrible man who just wants my throne”.
“Why haven’t you picked any of the others who have come then? Some of them were really quite nice or were they just not quite like the tales of knights who slay dragons from your silly books?” Wooyoung pressed as your cheeks began to flush pink at the implication of his question.
“You are never going to understand Wooyoung” you rolled your eyes before quickly putting more space between yourself and them as the sounds of Sana’s voice floated across the terrace. “Again brave knights I cannot express my gratitude for honoring my father” you smiled politely with your best formal voice back in place as they all tried not to snicker at your obvious change in demeanor.
“Princess Royal” Heeseung’s voice rang out loudly “I did wonder where you had gotten to, were you stolen away by these brutes?” he raised his eyebrow challengingly towards your friends and saviors.
“Of course not Prince Heeseung, these knights are my father’s best. They have just returned from their campaign. It is part of my duties to congratulate the brave men who honor my kingdom” your replied almost coldly, your eyes narrowing slightly at him.
“Still it is not proper that you be alone with men so far below your station” he continued, not really bothering to listen to your words making you frown.
“Your Highness, the prince may have had a little too much of your father’s favorite vintage” Sana stressed quickly, making you step back a fraction more from him “I thought some fresh air might help with that”.
“Perhaps it would” you smiled tightly, watching Sana carefully in case she needed help ridding herself from him “Where is prince Sunghoon?”.
“He has retired for the night, your Highness” Sana answered quickly, her voice quivering slightly.
“I see, I will accompany you then” you announced, making Prince Heesung grin at his perceived victory. “Ser San, Ser Jongho, would you join us please? There may be all sorts of wild beasts in the gardens at this time of night” you looked at them pleadingly.
“Of course your Royal Highness” San answered smoothly, bowing deeply as Jongho copied his actions, nodding.
“Thank you Sers I will feel much safer with you with us” you beamed noticing the twinkle of mischief in Jongho’s eyes and the laugh San was trying to hold in.
“I would be with you Princess Royal, you would need no further protection than that” Prince Heeseung started to protest, looking dissatisfied with your choice.
“I know Prince Heeseung but who would protect Lady Sana in the event of an attack surely you would be protecting me in that circumstance and Lady Sana is my closest confidant I would want her to be safe so why not bring a few more swords along” you explained flashing your best doe eyes at him.
“Of course you have thought this through far better than I have” he bowed in apology before San offered you his arm and Jongho took a torch from one of the wall sconces beside the very edge of he terrace to lead the way.
“Thank you Ser San” you graciously accepted, allowing him to lead you towards the cobblestone pathway that lay on the edge of the hedge maze. Prince Heeseung glowered as San but said nothing further as he fell into step behind you but you couldn’t help the silent giggle that passed your lips imagining him glaring at the wide expanse of San’s back as you walked. In the dimness that surrounded you now that dusk had properly fallen and the sun had long dropped behind the horizon you felt San’s fingers stroke small patterns into the back of your hand making butterflies dance in your belly. Prince Heeseung was muttering something to Sana that you couldn’t make out but when you turned your head to attempt to hear them better San squeezed your hand and met your eyes his endlessly deep brown eyes gesturing to Jongho in front of you before returning to your face as though he was studying you.
“Princess Royal” Jongho’s voice called back to you “Do you wish us to play another round of first to the middle? I know that it is one of your ladies in waiting’s favorite games to play when you have the time and it would be a good way to show Prince Heeseung the hedge maze” he asked in faux innocence making Sana agree enthusiastically and you nod.
“Oh yes please Ser Jongho, Sana and I both adore that game. Would you like to play Prince Heeseung? It is a very simple game but such fun” you turned to look at him excitedly “We all take turns entering the maze and the one that reaches the middle first wins a prize of their choosing”.
“Any prize they choose?” Heeseung asked with a sly smile on his face.
“Well obviously not anything I wouldn’t give you the kingdom or anything silly like that it is usually a token for example a piece of jewelry, a favor from me, a special dessert from the kitchens that sort of thing” you rationalized hoping that he would agree to play so that you could help Sana escape him for a little while.
“I would enjoy that,” he answered simply, looking between Sana and you. 
“The Princess Royal shall go first, then it will be your turn and then mine” Sana volunteered, hoping that as long as she took a different start path to him it would be fine.
“Shall we start? Ser San, would you stay here and guard the entrance while we play?” you enquired watching San nod in silent agreement before you picked up your skirts slightly so they didn’t catch on the branches and made your way into the maze, you took the first right then second left which you knew led to a dead end then you waited quietly it didn’t take long before your heard heavy footsteps that passed by on the other side of the thick green wall that led deeper into the maze. You waited for a few moments prepared to count to twenty before you attempted to make your way back to the entrance hoping that San would be waiting for you when you heard more footsteps.
“Princess?” San whispered quietly rounding the corner to the deadend that you were waiting in “He’s long gone shall we head back?” his breathtaking smile lighting up his whole face.
“Yes,why not?” you stepped towards him “I’m so glad you came home San” you admitted taking his hand in yours “I would have been devastated if you had been lost”.
“It would take more than one campaign to stop me coming home to you Princess” you flushed quickly back tracking his words “I mean to your kingdom Princess, there is no other kingdom I would rather serve”. He met your eyes shyly.
“San…” you breathed, noticing the pretty color that now dusted his cheekbones. You were almost standing so close to him that if someone was to come across you it would have surely looked improper but you didnt care you were far too lost in the depths of his eyes that swam with such emotion that you could not bring yourself to look away.
“Princess, I…” San stumbled his words as he unconsciously pulled you slightly closer to him, your chest almost pressed against his and his hand still grasping yours firmly in the few moments of silence that followed. “Why haven’t you agreed to any of the suitors your father has invited to the kingdom?”.
“I already have someone I wish to be with, but he doesn’t know” you confessed without a shred of fear as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards “He’s someone my father trusts very much and once this ball season has ended I wanted to talk to him about it”. San’s other hand moved to grip your waist making your eyes widen slightly.
“Would the King allow you to be with this man?” he asked quietly, his voice deeper than it had been before making you feel a little light headed.
“I desperately hope so” you swallowed hard his hand letting go of yours leaving it to feel cool without the warmth of his palm enveloping yours, very slowly he moved so that it was now creeping up your arm leaving goosebumps wherever his calloused fingers brushed against you.
“May I?” he murmured his face close enough to yours that you could feel his breath fanning across your face, his hand finally stopping to cup your cheek.
“Please San” you mumbled closing your eyes the moment his lips brushed against yours tentatively pausing to allow you to stop him going further which gave you the opportunity to place your hand against his chest to feel his heart beating rapidly within his ribcage. You leaned in a little more, pressing your lips against his fully, finally feeling the warmth of his plush lips against yours, smiling against you he pulled you against his chest slowly sliding his lips against yours until you felt dizzy.
“I need to get you back to the castle my Princess” he breathed against you lips pecking them once more before stepping back from you the smirk on his face showing how pleased he was with your reciprocation of his actions.
“Yes, you should escort me back to my quarters” you agreed blinking a few times to shake the feeling that was lingering in your belly from his use of my princess. “I don’t want to return to the ballroom”.
“Your wish is my command” he teased taking your hand in his and leading you back out of the maze instead of returning the way you came San led you through the darker side of the gardens towards the entrance that the knights often used when they came and went from the castle leading your through empty passageways and hallways until you reached the wing your quarters were in, you entered letting San stop at your door to let the guard know he would be taking over and to go get some rest before he would be following you inside.
You sat at your vanity waiting, removing your jewelry and hair pins before wiping the makeup from your face. You had already slipped off your underskirts which made your dress considerably less dramatic but there was no way you would be able to get out of your corset without your maids help so you just watched your reflection until you heard your door close and the lock click shut.
“San?” you called watching his shadow appear in the room.
“I’m here my Princess” he smiled warmly.
“I…I…I don’t know where to start” you chewed on your lip softly, the trepidation you felt was obvious.
“Is the man you want me Princess?” he asked tenderly his voice sweet like honey making you feel warm as it surrounded you making you nod silently.
“I love you San, I always have” you admitted shyly, your face burning with blush.
“God’s I’ve dreamed you would say that to me one day” he groaned striding to you and pulling you into his arms his lips pressing against yours once more this time not hiding the emotions he felt for you, his tongue traced the seam of your lips encouraging you to let him deepen the kiss which your did his tongue slipping past your lips to slid against your own in a slow sensual dance. You couldn’t help the faint moan that escaped your throat as his hands moved to hold you as close to him as he could. When he finally broke away from you he pressed his forehead against yours as you panted for breath.
“I loved you from the first moment I came to this kingdom and I will love you until my last breath” he declared to you sincerely “If your father allows this I will worship you from this day forth if you let me”. You nodded as tears came to your eyes, you had never imagined that San would ever return your feeling he was a far more worldly man and could have any woman in the kingdom yet he had wanted to be yours just as desperately as you had wanted him. Your lips crashed back into him too lost in the joy of his love to think about anything else, hands buried in his hair to hold him close to you as his arms encircled you, picking you up and pressing you against the wall beside the vanity. Pressing himself fully against you.
You let your hands fall to his shoulders to hold him as he began kissing his way down your neck towards your chest, your corset giving him enough space to get well below your collarbone before finding your lips again his hands had bunched your skirt up around your hips allowing him to press against your core more easily making you wiggle against him and cause him to let a deep groan escape his throat.
“Easy Princess, I might not be able to stop if we go too far” San panted against your neck, mouthing at the junction of your shoulder as you shivered in his arms.
“I want to, please I think I’m on fire” you whined wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.
“Shit, my love, if I deflower you the king will kill me” he ground out between his clenched teeth as you rolled your hips experimentally against him.
“He would never harm the father of my child” you whimpered the feeling of his hardness grinding against your cotton covered core giving you the friction you desperately needed.
“Fuck don’t say things like that” growled his hands sliding between you and the wall to tug at your laces while he kissed you again making your need for him grow with each muffled sound that passed between your mouths. He flung the black top of your corsent to the side your under corset undone enough for him to get access to your breasts making you cry out as he took one of your hardened nipples between his kiss swollen lips teasing it and suckling at it until your head tipped back against the wall. Carefully lowering you to the fur rug on the floor he roughly tugged your undergarments away allowing you time to wiggle your corset off without undoing it completely leaving you bare to him.
“So beautiful” he whispered reverently his hand cupping your cheek again before slowly dragging it down your body making your skin erupt in a feeling of fire licking at your skin, he undid his uniform throwing the jacket and undershirt behind him before working on the laces of his pants allowing you to see him in all his glory, you couldn't help your fingers from reaching out and tracing the old scars that crossed his chest the silver skin standing out in the glow of the room his eyes boring into you watching your every expression as you took your time touching him before he slid his fingers from your hip to your center achingly slowly slipping them between your folds making your mouth fall open in surprise.
“San” you gasped, unsure of what he was doing.
“Let me pleasure you my love” he smiled reassuringly, moving to kiss you once more as one of his fingers began circling your bud causing you to begin mewling into his mouth “That’s it my love let me show you how much I love you”.
Subconsciously you spread your thighs apart wider to allow him to touch you more, another of his long fingers pressing against your entrance slightly before entering you, he sunk his digit deeper and deeper making your eyes roll back as you began to rock against his hand. Another finger began stretching your velvet walls, the feeling sending surges of pleasure through you as they massaged your walls.
“Saaan” you moaned the feeling building and building deep inside you like a coil waiting to snap.
“When it feels too good and you cannot hold it in, let go my love” he cooed, kissing your neck as he continued to pump his fingers inside of you.
“Oh San…agh..ngh” you cried out feeling the coil explode and white hot pleasure flood your veins.
“Good girl” San mumbled moving to slot himself between your thighs. “Tell me if this hurts you and I will stop”.
You nodded dazed from the floaty feeling that still filled your brain, only clearing when you felt a much larger stretch beginning as San cautiously entered you inch by inch until you were fully impaled on his cock the feeling almost painful as he stilled to let you adjust to the sensation of being completely full. Kissing you deeply he slowly dragged his cock almost completely out of you before thrusting back in his gentle pace to help you not feel anything but pain.
“Does it hurt my love?” he gasped against your lips, continuing to languidly move his hips.
“No feels good” you moaned quietly, no longer feeling unsure of the feeling of him moving inside you. He hissed in pleasure speeding up the rocking of his hips helping you to wrap one leg around him, each snap of his hips making the coil tighten again making you roll your hips to meet his thrust making him moan loudly and your walls flutter.
“Fuck just like that my love you feel like heaven” he grunted watching your face as your mouth dropped open again and your moans got louder “Good girl, let go when you want to alright, I want to feel you on my cock” he babbled making you start to see white again as fire spread through your veins again and you couldn’t he but scream as your second high hit you.
“San, San, San” you chanted before he rapidly pulled away from you his cock in his hand as he covered your tummy and breasts in thick white ropes of his release.
“Sorry My love let me clean you up" he panted, grabbing his undershirt from the floor and wiping you clean before collapsing beside you “Couldn’t risk letting go inside you at least not until your father lets me marry you”. You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at the idea of him still needing to keep you safe even whilst deflowering you.
"Let me get you into bed so that you don’t catch a cold from being on the stone floor” he smiled bashfully, helping you to get into your bed still nude but at least warmer as he cleaned up the clothes that we strewn around the room and partially dressed himself.
“Are you leaving?” you whimpered panic rising in your throat.
“I will never leave you but I cannot stay here all night, your maids will find me” he smiled climbing onto the bed beside you we can’t have a scandal in the castle.
“Come with me tomorrow when I talk to my father?” you implored cuddling into his side, his fingers softly combing through your hair.
“Of course my love” He whispered kissing your head as your eyes fell closed
A/N: Thank you again for reading my darlings xx
Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie , @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16 , @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold
476 notes · View notes
quinzzelx · 6 months ago
Text
Reflections
Azriel x Fem! Reader
Request: hello, i’ve been thinking about slight angst to fluffy filth with azriel x reader, i have this idea where reader gets az off in front of a mirror while he says nice things about himself, bc we all know his self esteem is abominable. [...]
Summary: You notice Azriel isn't feeling well and want to show him just how much he is loved.
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Smut, 18! +, Fluffy smut, Soft Azriel, gentle sex, mirror sex.
A/N: This is soooo cute!! I really wanted to make this fluffy. Azriel deserves so much love and I loved writing this. Also, a friend of mine gave me a really mean idea for a very angsty second part, but that would be utter heartbreak omg...
☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆
Azriel moved through the day with a heavier shadow than usual, both literally and figuratively. His usual quiet demeanor had deepened into something more somber, his brooding silence punctuated only by the soft whispers of his shadows that clung close, mirroring his mood. It was one of those days when the weight of his duties hung heavily upon him, laden with guilt, self-doubt, and a gnawing anxiety that he might never truly be enough. His own insecurities clawed at him relentlessly, questioning his worth even as he worked tirelessly behind the scenes, unseen and often unappreciated.
You observed him with a careful eye, noting the subtle shift in his energy, the slight hesitation in his movements. Throughout the centuries of your friendship, which had seen countless shared secrets and moments of vulnerability, you had learned to read him like one of the many books lining the shelves of his dimly-lit office. You both danced around each other in a delicate ballet of unspoken words and intermittent closeness, occasionally succumbing to the gravitational pull of mutual desire that neither of you dared to fully acknowledge or define.
Recently, something had shifted. The air between you was charged, heavy with the things left unsaid, the feelings unexplored. Despite the deep bond you shared, Azriel had begun to pull away, cloaking himself in solitude and silence. His avoidance was a clear sign of his inner turmoil—a battle you knew all too well. He was adept at seeing the good in everyone else, lifting others with his quiet strength and perceptive insights, yet he was blind to the light within himself.
Determined to breach the distance he had imposed, you resolved to confront the barriers he had erected. Catching Azriel was never easy; he was as elusive as the shadows he commanded, adept at hiding his deepest fears and desires. But love, you had decided, was not a thing to be easily relinquished or left unspoken. It was a force as formidable as the magic Azriel wielded, and you were prepared to wield it with all the determination and tenderness it demanded.
You waited for him in his bedroom, adorned in one of your finest and sheerest black lace nightgowns, draped with a silk robe that whispered with every subtle movement. Positioned on the chaise in the corner of his spacious room, you gazed intently into the floor-length mirror adjacent to the door, reflecting not only your own anxious anticipation but also the room’s dark, elegant aesthetic.
As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the tension and expectancy built within you. The only sound was the quiet rustle of your gown and the distant, muffled noises of the House of Wind settling for the night.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped through. His arrival was signaled not by a flourish, but by a weary sigh, his silhouette framed momentarily in the doorway. His shoulders were slumped, bearing the invisible yet palpable weight of his duties and doubts.
As he entered, his familiar shadows danced around him, a dark entourage that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Interestingly, the shadows flickered towards you briefly, acknowledging your presence as if in greeting. Yet, they maintained their silence, not alerting Azriel to your presence. It was as if they, too, conspired in your plan, understanding perhaps the necessity of this confrontation.
Azriel, oblivious to your presence and caught up in his own thoughts, moved slowly into the room. He loosened the clasps of his cloak and began to shed the layers of his formal attire, each movement heavy with exhaustion. It was only as he turned to hang his cloak in the wardrobe that he caught your reflection in the mirror. His movements halted abruptly; his eyes locked onto yours in the reflected image. A complex mixture of surprise, confusion, and a flicker of something deeper played across his features. For a moment, he simply stared, as if processing the sight and its implications.
“Why are you here?” His voice, though soft, carried the weight of his weary confusion and lingering shadows of his earlier brooding.
The room felt charged, the air thick with the unsaid, as you stood gracefully, letting the silk robe fall slightly to reveal more of the delicate lace clinging to your form. “I’m here for you, Azriel,” you said, your voice a gentle yet firm declaration. “I’ve seen how you’ve been carrying your burdens, and you don’t have to bear them alone. Not anymore.”
Your words hung in the air, a soft yet undeniable challenge to the walls he had built around himself. His initial shock gave way to a resigned vulnerability, the barriers beginning to falter under the weight of your sincerity and the palpable concern in your eyes.
Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a long, silent moment, the battle within him almost visible. Then, slowly, the shadows around him seemed to retreat slightly, as if giving him the space to breathe, to decide. It was your turn to wait, the outcome of your bold move hanging delicately in the balance.
Your movements were smooth and deliberate, each step carrying the quiet confidence of someone who knows their power. As Azriel's gaze lingered on you in the mirror, the sheer lace of your nightgown played a tantalizing dance over your skin, hinting at the promises concealed beneath. When you let the silk robe slip from your shoulders, pooling silently at your feet, his reaction was instantaneous—a low grunt of undisguised desire and perhaps, a hint of conflict.
"You've been avoiding me," you murmured, your voice as soft and enticing as the silk that had just glided off your body. "I missed you, Azriel." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of your genuine concern and longing.
His jaw tensed, a slight narrowing of his eyes betraying his inner turmoil. Muscles tight, he took in the sight of you—each curve accentuated by the delicate lace, the soft lighting casting shadows that played over your form. Doubt flickered behind his gaze, a constant companion in his thoughts. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with a mix of confusion and rising heat.
Smirking slightly, you stepped closer, each movement calculated to show your appreciation of his formidable presence. His impressive wings, the strong lines of his body—every inch of him spoke of a crafted perfection that took your breath away. But beyond the physical, you saw the soul of the man who had stood by you through centuries, his loyalty unwavering, his strength a beacon. Tonight, you were determined to show Azriel just how much he was loved and adored. He deserved to feel valued, not just by those around him but by himself. If he needed a reminder, you were more than ready to provide it, to break down the barriers he had erected around his heart.
Reaching him, you placed a hand lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "Let me remind you," you said, standing on tiptoes to whisper directly into his ear, your breath a warm caress. "Let me show you how much you mean to me, to all of us. You are not alone, Azriel. You never have been." The intensity of your words seemed to pierce through his defenses. For a moment, he was still, the only movement the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Then, slowly, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against him, his embrace a silent acceptance of your offer. His forehead rested against yours, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you shared.
"Mhm," you hum softly, letting one of your hands wander down his back, feeling the tense muscles beneath his shirt as your fingers explore the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing his tattoos. The warmth of his skin radiated through the fabric, speaking of the battles he fought both outside and within himself. "I want to make you feel good," you whispered, a promise laden with devotion and want.
Azriel's response was almost imperceptible, a slight relaxation under your touch as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. His eyes remained closed, focusing intently on the sensation of your hand moving over him. The muscle in his jaw worked silently, a visible sign of the tension he carried. As your scent enveloped him—sweet notes of arousal mixed with the calming lavender of your soap—it threatened to undo the control he so rigidly held over himself. He suppressed a groan, the depth of his yearning surfacing despite his best efforts to maintain composure.
Your other hand gently traced the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there and willing it to ease. "Let go with me, Az," you coaxed, your voice low and soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with me." Your words, heartfelt and sincere, aimed to penetrate the walls he built around his emotions, to reach the man who so rarely allowed himself the luxury of being cared for.
Slowly, Azriel opened his eyes, the usual guarded hazel depths now shimmering with a mix of emotions—conflict, desire, and a dawning realization that he could perhaps find solace in your arms. His hand reached up to cover yours, pressing it against his cheek, turning his face to plant a soft kiss in the palm of your hand. It was a small gesture, yet laden with significance, an acknowledgment of his trust and his willingness to lean on you, if only for the night.
You pull him into a kiss, one that starts soft and gentle but quickly escalates into something deeper, more meaningful. Your hand, not content with merely cupping his cheek, slides to the hem of his pants, palming his hardening length through the fabric. The moment he groans softly into the kiss, you seize the opportunity to deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth, fully asserting your presence.
The kiss turns heated in an instant. Azriel's hands wander to your waist, his touch sending shivers through your body as he feels your heated skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. "Fuck," he grunts as the kiss breaks, his eyes roaming over you with newfound intensity. He takes in the sight of your nipples, visibly strained against the sheer lace. "You look..." he trails off, exhaling sharply, the raw desire evident in his gaze. "Absolutely breathtaking."
Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to undress him slowly, each movement deliberate and filled with intention. As you peel away his clothing, his heart hammers in his chest, the sensation distinctly different, more intimate than any encounter before. This wasn't just about physical need—it was about connection, about exposing not just bodies but also hidden depths of emotion.
His shirt falls away, and you take a moment to trace the lines of his well-defined chest, your fingers exploring each scar and muscle, a silent testament to his battles and burdens. Each touch seems to speak words you both had held back, acknowledging his vulnerabilities and strengths without needing to articulate them verbally.
As you kneel to undo his belt, your proximity to him intensifies the atmosphere. The sound of the buckle clinking softly as you open his pants is almost deafening in the quiet room. You glance up at him, finding his eyes locked on yours, a mixture of apprehension and longing swirling within.
With his pants finally loosened, you help him step out of them, leaving him as exposed as you are, both physically and emotionally. Standing back up, you press your body against his, feeling the heat radiating from him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest synchronizing with yours.
"Let me take care of you tonight," you whisper against his lips, a promise hanging between you, as heavy and tangible as the air itself. "Let me love you, Azriel." You guide Azriel to stand before the large mirror, positioning him so that he can see both himself and your reflection. Standing just behind him, you drape your arms over his broad shoulders, allowing your hands to roam freely across the hard planes of his chest. The room's temperature seems to climb with each deliberate caress, the air charged with an electric current of anticipation and desire.
Catching his gaze in the mirror, you let a slow, confident smirk play across your lips. "I want you to watch," you murmur, locking eyes with him through the reflection. Your voice is low, a sultry command that sends a thrill through him.
Your hands move with practiced ease, tracing down his abdomen, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. "Look at how strong you are, my love," you whisper, your voice a mix of admiration and desire.
You hold Azriel's gaze in the mirror, your eyes locking with his as you let your hand slide into the waistband of his underwear, feeling the soft, silky skin of his hard cock beneath your fingertips. Your touch elicits a shiver from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your embrace, his wings twitching with anticipation.
"I want you to repeat what I say," you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper as you continue to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate. You feel the tension in his body, the way he strains against your touch, and you revel in the power you have over him in this moment.
"Say it," you command softly, your tone firm yet loving. "Repeat after me."
His breath comes out in shallow pants as he nods, his eyes still closed, lost in the sensations you're evoking in him. "I-I'll repeat," he manages to whisper, his voice husky.
You smile, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you guide him through the words, each one a testament to his worth and your desire for him. "I am worthy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "I am strong. I am loved."
Azriel's voice trembles slightly as he echoes your words, his own affirmation mingling with yours in the air between you. "I am worthy," he repeats, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. "I am strong. I am loved."
You feel a swell of pride and affection for him as he speaks, his words a declaration of self-worth and acceptance. But you're not done yet—you want him to know just how much he means to you, how deeply you desire him.
Leaning closer, you press a kiss to the shell of his ear, your lips brushing against his skin as you murmur words of adoration and desire. "You're so fucking sexy, Az," you breathe, your voice low and sultry. "Your body, your mind, your heart—I want all of you. I need all of you."
As you continue to stroke Azriel, you feel him twitch with each movement of your hand, a visceral response to your touch that drives you both further into the realm of lust. The air between you charges with electricity, every touch and whisper amplifying the tension that wraps around you like a tangible force.
"You are incredible," you breathe out, each word laden with desire as you maintain the rhythmic motion of your hand. "Feel every stroke, every touch. This is how much you affect me, how much you are wanted."
His back arches slightly as he presses into you, his breathing deepening. The heat from his body radiates, mingling with yours, creating an enveloping warmth that makes the air around you shimmer. "I love how you respond to me," you continue, your voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down his spine. "Every shudder, every moan. You're so beautifully responsive."
Your words of praise and the relentless motion of your hand draw deep moans from him, each one escaping his lips like a confession. His hands find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours to increase the pressure, guiding you in the silent language of lovers intimately familiar with each other’s desires.
"Look at us," you command gently, nodding towards the mirror. His eyes open slowly, heavy with arousal, and meet yours in the reflection. The sight of yourselves, wrapped in such an intimate tableau, heightens the erotic charge of the moment. "See how perfect you look, giving in to pleasure. This is you—powerful yet so open and vulnerable with me."
You press your body closer against his, your chest flush against his back, letting him feel the full length of your body, the firmness of your breasts against him. "You are so strong, Azriel, but here with me, you don’t have to be. Just feel," you whisper, accentuating your words with a firmer stroke, pushing him closer to the edge.
You continue your tender assault, spreading kisses from his neck down his shoulder, each touch light and reverent. Azriel's breath comes in heavy pants, a sign of the deep pleasure coursing through him as your thumb grazes the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock, slick with arousal. The gentle yet deliberate movements of your hand contrast with the intensity of the moment, creating a stirring blend of tenderness and heat.
"You're doing so well," you murmur, peppering his skin with soft kisses that make him shiver under your touch. "Feel every sensation, let it wash over you. You deserve this pleasure," you continue, your words dripping with affirmation and encouragement.
As he tries to savor the moment, clinging to the waves of pleasure you elicit from him, you notice the overwhelmed look in his eyes—a mix of disbelief and ecstasy at the gentleness of the encounter. His usual demeanor of control and restraint is nowhere to be seen, replaced by raw, unguarded vulnerability in the reflection of the mirror.
"Keep going, Az," you whisper, your voice a sultry command that sends a shiver down his spine. "Tell yourself how good it feels, praise yourself like I praise you."
A flush of embarrassment mixed with arousal colors his cheeks, his gaze darkening further as he meets your eyes in the mirror. The intimacy of the moment, your hands skillfully wrapped around him, heightens the erotic charge between you. His voice, when it finally emerges, is husky and hesitant, but grows in confidence with each word. "It feels... incredible. I am... strong, and I am desired."
Hearing Azriel voice his own pleasure, a rare admission from him, something coils deep within your stomach, a mix of pride and further craving. His words, reflecting both the affirmations you've given and his own acceptance of them, deepen the connection, making this moment about more than physical pleasure—it's about emotional liberation and acceptance. "Look at how powerful you are, how much control you have over your own pleasure," you guide him, your voice both soothing and seductive.
Encouraged by your words, he begins to move his hips subtly, entering into a rhythm guided by the motions of your hand. His own words become more assured, his voice stronger. "I am powerful... I am worthy of this pleasure... I deserve this."
As he articulates his own worth, his climax builds, the tension in his body winding tighter. His breathing grows erratic, and you tighten your grip just slightly, increasing the pace, pushing him closer with a loving yet firm hand.
"Let go, Azriel," you coax as he teeters on the brink, your voice soft yet commanding. Azriel's grunt resonates with a newfound confidence, his instincts beginning to surface as he takes control. His hips snap forward decisively, rutting into your hand with a series of firm, deliberate thrusts. His gaze locks onto yours in the mirror—dark, intense, filled with a fiery desire that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.
"What do you want, Azriel?" you ask, your voice a soft challenge, laced with curiosity and an undercurrent of your own need for him. The question seems to unleash something within him, a torrent of pent-up longing.
With a decisive movement, he gently removes your hand from his length, confusion flickering across your face. But before you can question his actions, he swiftly pulls you around to face him. The sudden shift in dynamics catches you off guard, and you find yourself staring up into his heated eyes, your back pressed against the cool surface of the mirror.
Azriel's hands find your waist, his grip firm but not constricting, as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I want you," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to show you just how much I need you, how deep my desire runs."
He pauses, his eyes searching yours for a moment, gauging your reaction, before continuing with a more raw, almost primal tone. "I want to see you unravel beneath me, hear you moan my name as I take you, right here, right now."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation bubbling within you. The audacity of his words, the explicitness of his desires—it's intoxicating.
"I want to feel your body tremble as I fill you, to watch your face in the mirror as you come undone from my touch." His fingers trail up your side, light but purposeful, drawing a line of fire along your skin.
Before you can respond, he bends down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals his vow, a kiss so deep and consuming that it leaves you breathless. When he pulls back slightly, his gaze is unyielding, locked onto yours with an intensity that holds the world at bay.
"This is what I want," he declares, his voice a blend of raw need and absolute certainty. "Tell me you want it too."
Caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your own desires flare to life, matching his intensity. "Yes," you breathe out, the word a surrender to the storm, an acceptance of his claim over you. "Yes, I want it, Azriel."
Satisfied with your affirmation, he smiles, a predatory, triumphant curve of his lips that promises untold pleasures. The chill causes your nipples to harden immediately, a visible reaction that doesn't escape his intense gaze. His eyes, dark and predatory, drink in every inch of your revealed skin with undisguised hunger. His scarred hand ventures lower, tracing a bold path down your abdomen until it finds the heat between your legs. You gasp, a soft moan escaping your lips, as his fingers explore your wetness, a rough groan vibrating from his throat in response to your arousal.
"Azriel," you whimper, your voice laced with need and a faint protest, "this was supposed to be about you."
He looks up at you, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. "Believe me," he responds, his voice low and husky, pressing his fingers more insistently against you, "making you feel good is very much in my best interest." His words are punctuated by a deliberate stroke that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, making your knees buckle slightly.
He steadies you with a firm arm around your waist, his touch both possessive and protective. "Seeing you unravel, hearing you moan my name—it’s what I need right now," he continues, his tone both commanding and coaxing. Azriel gently turns you to face the mirror, pulling you back against his chest. The heat of his body envelops you, and you feel the firm pressure of his arousal against your lower back. Instinctively, one of your hands reaches back between your bodies, grasping him firmly, feeling his length and hardness, which elicits a soft groan from both of you.
 His fingers continue their expert ministrations, circling, teasing, pushing you toward the edge with skilled precision.
The room seems to close in around you, the mirror reflecting your intertwined forms, a visual echo of the intense connection that sizzles between you. Every touch, every whisper, intensifies the electric charge in the air, pulling you deeper into the vortex of desire.
As Azriel's hand works its magic, you find yourself leaning back into his chest, seeking support as your body begins to tremble under the onslaught of pleasure. His other hand travels up to cup your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple in a rhythm that mirrors the actions of his fingers below.
"This is about us," Azriel murmurs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "About me showing you how much you mean to me, how much I want you." Azriel’s touch becomes even more deliberate as he strokes your clit, his fingers tracing the contours of your slick folds before teasing at your entrance. All the while, he whispers sweet affirmations into your ear.
In the mirror, Azriel watches every reaction that flickers across your face—each flutter of your eyelids, every bite of your lip, the way your brows furrow slightly in concentration and pleasure. This visual feedback drives him, his actions tuned to elicit more of those beautiful responses.
"You always make me feel incredible, Azriel," you breathe out, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "No one else can make me feel like this."
His eyes, dark with his want and need, reflect a mix of pride and deep affection. "You’re mine," he affirms, the possessive words not a demand but a declaration. His fingers resume their motion, now with a renewed vigor, as if spurred on by your admissions.
You watch together in the mirror as his fingers delve deeper, exploring you, his other hand caressing your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between expert fingers. The dual sensations, coupled with the intensely erotic sight of your intertwined bodies reflected back at you, drive your arousal higher. "I want you to see how much you enjoy this, how you respond to
me," Azriel murmurs, his lips grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to watch yourself come undone because of what I do to you." As the heat of your arousal intensifies, you find yourself overwhelmed by the need for more—for him. Your whispered disclosure sends a visible shudder through Azriel, and you feel his response in the twitch of his length in your grasp. His gaze softens, filled with a tumult of emotions that had shadowed him earlier, now mingling with the undeniable love and warmth radiating from your intertwined bodies.
"Earlier," he drawls, his voice thick with emotion as he thrusts one finger deep inside you, causing a sharp intake of breath. "You said you want all of me..." His words trail off as he watches your reaction, then, deliberately, he slides a second finger alongside the first, stretching and filling you, pausing to let each sensation sink in. "Not just my body, but my heart."
His fingers move rhythmically, pumping into your core as his body presses flush against yours, his breath warm against the skin of your neck. His lips gently flutter over your skin, each touch a whisper of affection and promise. "Tell me," he commands softly, his request hanging in the air, laden with deeper implications.
Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you breathe out your confession, each word laced with the depth of your feelings. "I love you, Azriel." The words hang between you, powerful and sincere. As his movements inside you pause, you continue, compelled to reassure him of his worth. "You deserve to be loved. I don't know anyone else who deserves it more than you do."
In that moment, something shifts in Azriel’s eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, a glint that might be the beginning of belief, something warm and soft. His fingers resume their motion, but now with a tenderness that mirrors the emotion swelling in the room. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, only to replace them with the head of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart beat wildly, every nerve alight with the need for him.
"You deserve to be loved too," Azriel whispers back, his voice husky with emotion. "And I—I love you, more than I ever thought possible." With that confession, he pushes forward, entering you in one smooth, deliberate motion that makes you gasp both from the fullness and the profound significance of his words. As the intensity of your passion deepens, each thrust is imbued with a profound sense of connection, a merging of souls as much as bodies. Azriel's eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration, remain locked on yours in the mirror, capturing every expression of pleasure that dances across your features.
You're bent forward slightly, your back arched, your body yielding to his as he continues to fill you with each delicious thrust. Wet sounds fill the air, mingling with heavy breathing and soft pleas as the rhythm of your lovemaking builds, each movement proof to the depth of your connection.
Unlike your previous encounters, which were fueled by hunger and passion, now it is suffused with something more profound—love. "My legs are about to give out," you whimper, feeling the strain of the pleasure coursing through your body.
Azriel responds by pulling you back against his chest, his hand firm yet gentle around your throat, guiding you to stand straight as he continues to grind his hips against yours. The sensation of his cock nestled deep inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, sends wave after wave of pleasure through you. With a soft smile and a lingering touch, he slowly withdraws from you, the air cool against your heated skin. Turning you to face him, his eyes brim with love—a look so intense, it feels as though it could completely engulf you. He seals his emotions with a kiss, tender and passionate, a perfect echo of the feelings swirling between you.
He guides you gently towards the bed, sinking back first onto the soft sheets. You climb over him, straddling his hips with graceful ease. Lowering yourself back down onto him, a mutual groan fills the space, the sensation overwhelming yet deeply right. The kiss never breaks, each movement of your lips in sync with the rolling motion of your hips.
His hands find your hips, gripping gently, guiding and meeting each movement with his own. Every thrust is a word unsaid, every connection a line in a poem of your intertwining lives. The way his body responds to yours, the way your heartbeats seem to synchronize with each thrust, it all culminates into an exquisite dance of love. As you continue to move rhythmically above him, Azriel's words flow like a soothing stream, each phrase dripping with affection and devotion, encouraging your every motion. "You're everything to me," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrates through your core. His hands are tender yet purposeful, one gliding to stroke your clit in slow, deliberate circles that send waves of pleasure crashing through you.
The intensity of his touch makes you gasp, your head tilting back as stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Feeling the shift, Azriel gently guides you back down, his body rising to meet yours. His lips find the delicate skin of your breasts, and his teeth graze lightly, careful not to hurt but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He marks you lovingly, each kiss and nibble a witness to his deep feelings, branding you as his in the most intimate of ways.
The room is filled with the sound of your combined sighs and the soft rustle of the sheets as you move together. Azriel's other hand anchors you, his fingers digging gently into your hips, guiding your movements to meet his upward thrusts. The dual stimulation of his fingers on your clit and his deep, steady strokes inside you draws you ever closer to the edge.
His eyes never leave your face, watching every flicker of pleasure, every shift of emotion as you ride the waves together. He sits up slightly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. His breath is warm on your neck, his murmurs filled with words of love and future promises.
"Let go with me," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Let me feel you come undone."
Encouraged by his words and overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure, you surrender fully to the sensations. The world narrows down to the here and now, to the feel of Azriel beneath you, inside you, all around you. As you climax, your body tightens around him, a wave of euphoria washing over you in an intense, all-encompassing rush, crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Azriel follows shortly after, his own release spurred by the tightening grip of your body and the overwhelming sense of love.
In the aftermath, you collapse against him, both of you panting, sweat mingling, hearts beating in a synchronized rhythm of deep contentment. Azriel's arms hold you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"We are made for each other," he breathes out, a smile in his voice, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. As you lie intertwined with Azriel, the tender strokes of his fingers drawing soft patterns on your back, a sense of tranquility envelops you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. The air is filled with a serene stillness, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
You feel a surge of emotion welling up within you, a profound sense of gratitude for this man who holds you in his arms. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you nestle closer to him, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It's as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of love and warmth.
"Azriel," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "you deserve the world and more." Your words are imbued with sincerity, each syllable carrying the weight of your affection. "You've always been the one to give so much, to sacrifice without hesitation. And yet, you never ask for anything in return."
Tears well up in your eyes as you continue, overwhelmed by the depth of your feelings. "You're the most beautiful soul I've ever known, inside and out. And I... I love you more than words can express."
A soft gasp escapes your lips as you struggle to articulate the depth of your emotions, the magnitude of your love for him. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely a whisper, "it feels like the weight of the world is crushing down on me, suffocating me. But then... then you walk into the room, and suddenly, everything becomes clear. I can breathe again." Your confession hangs in the air, the silence punctuated only by the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.  
As tears well up in Azriel's eyes, his gaze meets yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. His brows furrow with the intensity of his feelings, and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping you in a tight embrace. With trembling hands, he gently lifts your chin, capturing your lips in a soul-crushing kiss.
In that moment, he pours every ounce of love and tenderness into the kiss, conveying with each touch the depth of his emotions. As you part, his chest heaves with emotion, and he gazes into your eyes with a vulnerability that renders you speechless.
"My love," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "those words... they mean more to me than you could ever know." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch feather-light against your skin. "I never thought myself deserving of such affection," he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. "But you..”
He takes a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from yours. "With you by my side, I can finally sleep peacefully," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "For centuries, I wandered in darkness, haunted by my past. But with you, I've found solace, a sense of peace that I never thought possible."
You reach out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs gently wiping away the tears that still linger in his honey-colored eyes. "Az," you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness, "you deserve all the love in the world. You are worthy of every ounce of affection I have to give."
With a soft smile, you press a kiss to his lips, a silent promise of your unwavering devotion. "Together," you murmur against his lips, "we'll navigate through the darkness, hand in hand, until we find the light." In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of each other's embrace, you know that you've found your home in each other's arms. And as you hold each other close, you're filled with a sense of peace and contentment that you know will carry you through whatever trials lie ahead.
540 notes · View notes
dunebrat · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
THE PEOPLES PRINCESS
Reader x feyd rautha smut
Summary: you get married off by your father to secure alliances. Despite you knowing your new husbands reputation, you finds yourself drawn to him.
➽─────────────────────❥
As you stepped onto the arid planet of Arrakis, the sun beat down relentlessly, casting harsh shadows across the shifting dunes. You, a princess, were escorted by your father, the ruler of your home planet, to marry the infamous Feyd Rautha. Your first encounter with Feyd was chilling. He stood tall and imposing, his eyes cold as they met yours. You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his gaze.
Throughout the preparations for the wedding, Feyd remained distant, barely acknowledging your presence. Amidst the bustling preparations, your father sought you out, his regal bearing softened by a look of paternal concern. He approached you with a tenderness that belied his stoic exterior, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness.
"My dear," he began, his voice gentle yet tinged with gravity, "today, you embark on a new journey, one that will shape the course of your destiny."
You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions churning within you. "Father," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, "I know not what the future holds, but I will face it with courage and grace."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to grasp your hand. "You are a beacon of strength and resilience, my child," he said, his voice filled with pride. "No matter what lies ahead, remember that you are never alone."
Tears welled in your eyes as you embraced him.
Your wedding gown, made from the finest silks and embellished with gorgeous lace and brilliant gems, was a vision of grandeur and elegance. Its flowing procession, glistening in the intense desert sun, followed you like a moonlit river. As you stood in the grand hall, waiting for the wedding ceremony to begin you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, knowing that once the ceremony commenced, there would be no turning back.
But amidst the fear, there was a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, against all odds, this union with Feyd would bring you the happiness and fulfillment you had always longed for. But you know the man that will soon be your husband is no kind man. But as you stood before him at the altar, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce determination. When he leaned in to kiss you, you felt a rush of lust.
On your wedding night, as the grandeur of the ceremony faded into the intimacy of the chambers, you found yourself alone with Feyd. The flickering candlelight casting shadows across the room, adding to your senses heightened.
Feyd, with his usual air of confidence, approached you. His eyes, sharp and penetrating, seemed to pierce through the facade you tried so desperately to maintain. He noticed the tremble in your hands, the uneasiness that lingered in your of your gaze.
"You're scared," he observed, his voice a low, rumbling growl that sent a shiver down your spine.
You nodded, unable to deny the truth of his words. "I am," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Feyd closed the distance between you, his presence startling in its intensity, his lips twisted into a knowing smile. He said, "Fear can be a powerful motivator," with an a hint of humor in his voice. "But it can also be mastered."
With a swift yet gentle motion, he reached out to cup your face, his touch surprisingly tender against your skin. His eyes bore into yours with an unwavering gaze, as if daring you to challenge him, to defy the inevitable.
Feyd's eyes raked over your body, his gaze lingering on the curve of your hips and the swell of your breasts.
His voice was low and husky, his words a command.
"Strip." The word hung in the air like an order, leaving no room for negotiation or hesitation. You hesitated briefly before complying with Feyd's demand. You unbuttoned your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a pool of fabric. Underneath you wore nothing but lace underwear and stockings that accentuated every curve on your body.
Feyd's eyes roamed over your body, his gaze intense and unwavering. "I want you to know that I am not a man who will be gentle with you," he said in an even tone as if it were simply stating the obvious.
"I will take what I want, and you are to do as I say." The words hung in the air like a threat.
His gaze was intense, his voice commanding. You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the way he spoke to you. The words were harsh and demanding, leaving no room for negotiation or compromise.
You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to process what he had just said. The weight of his words hung heavy on the air between us and for a moment | felt trapped by them.
"I understand," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
"I will do as you say." The words were barely out of your mouth before Feyd's hand was on the back of your neck, his grip firm and unyielding.
He pulled you closer to him, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both demanding and possessive. His tongue invaded your mouth with an almost brutal forcefulness as he claimed it for himself.
His other hand found its way to your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting the nipple until you gasped in pain.
The pain was sharp and intense, but it also sent a strange rush of pleasure through you. You found yourself responding to his touch in ways that surprised even you.
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and crevice as if he were mapping out a territory. He pulled you closer to him until his hardness was pressed against the soft folds of your sex.
You could feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable. His hands moved down to your hips and he lifted you up so that only the tip of his cock was inside you.
He held you there, teasingly close to the edge of pleasure. "Do you want this?" he asked in a low voice that sent shivers down your spine.
"Do you want me to take what I need from you?" The words were a command, not a question. The words were barely out of your mouth before Feyd's grip on you tightened and he thrust into you with a force that left you gasping for air. He fucks you hard and fast, his hips slamming into you with a force that left your body trembling. The pain was intense but it only seemed to fuel the fire of desire burning within him as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.
You could feel the wetness between your legs, a testament to how turned on you were by his rough treatment.
His hands roamed over your body, leaving bruises and marks that would be a reminder of this night for days to come.
Days passed after the wedding night, and you found yourself adjusting to life as the wife of Feyd Rautha. One evening, as you sat alone in the grand hall of the palace, Feyd approached you with a quietly. His usual stoic demeanor softened slightly as he took a seat beside you, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting.
“May I join you?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface.
You nodded, surprised by his sudden display of openness. "Of course," you replied, unable to hide the shyness in your voice.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, the only sound the soft rustle of fabric and the distant hum of activity within the palace walls. And then, with a hesitant sigh, Feyd spoke, his words measured yet tinged with emotion. "I know I am not what you expected," he began, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. "I am not known for my warmth or compassion, but know that I will do everything in my power to protect you, to keep you safe from harm."
"I believe you husband," you replied softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.
802 notes · View notes
indecisive-capricorn · 7 months ago
Text
Headcanons to Dating Yandere Tom Riddle:
WARNINGS: MDNI! Yandere, stalking, implied dubcon, mentions of sex, violence, mentions of blood, mentions of breeding, mentions of wife, mentions of marriage, etc.
SUMMARY: A chance to experience what dating Tom Riddle is like, even when it's against your will to do just that.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, this headcanons leans more into dating Yandere Tom Riddle but technically, even without the yandere and dark part, he will do questionably dark things for his partner. I'm planning to make other headcanons that goes into details about that specific situation. For example, a "Headcanons to Dark Tom Riddle x Pregnant Wife Reader"
MASTERLIST & REQUESTS: Before you go, have a glass of wine or better yet, recommend a good bottle. any kind of message is always a delight.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It doesn't matter where you come from, alright? Although it's important for Tom to have an excellent muggle free reputation, Tom has his ways to make sure any history you have with muggles are erased. No one knows your precise history because of it either, but according to their Dark Lord, you were a witch from a fine family in France. While that might have been true, what they didn't know was how you were actually a rebel and fought against him for a time until he kidnapped you.
You left him with no choice! He was infatuated with you due to your strength and infamous beauty. Tom kept on sending you gifts, invitations to balls even and attempted to bait you to become Dumbledore's spy in order to get closer to you. However, you rejected all his gifts and invitations, burning them into the fireplace as soon as they arrived.
You were intelligent enough to know about his plan, but as evil and cruel as Tom was, he was also a genius.
When Tom kidnapped you, you had screamed all the curses in the world at him, refusing for him to even touch you. However, it silenced down when you saw several death eaters pointing their wands to the necks of your little sister and other family members.
You were a rebel and if Tom tried to take you with the threat of hurting your family, he knew you would continue to reject him. After all, actions speak louder than words, and as the death eaters began to torture your family, you finally got on your knees and pleaded for him to stop. Tom was more than pleased with your actions, but to ensure that you will stay true to your promise, he demanded a kiss from you, which you reluctantly gave in the form of a peck on the lips.
Though Tom had spared your family, he will make sure you never see them again. One way or another, no matter how many times you plead and beg to see them, he will rip you away from your family for the sole reason so that your focus would not waver from him. Yeah, he's that possessive of you.
Speaking of being possessive, Tom from the beginning of the relationship will always make sure you are covered in the finest silk and most rarest yet stunning jewellery. You might try to refuse them at first, but you don't quite get it. All of the fine dresses, luxurious clothes and expensive jewellery that he had picked out for you was also his way to tell others that you're his, that you're his possession. Try to refuse it and he will punish you.
There are various of punishments Tom can give you. It depends on what you have done that made him measure how severe the punishment should go, but it also depended on his mood. If Tom was only lightly jealous, he'll most likely just leave marks on you like hickeys and bruises. However, if Tom was severely jealous.. then prepare yourself. Tom had once fucked you in front of two of your old friends whom he had taken as prisoner as a way to humiliate you after you had tried to communicate with them in their cells. Just don't defy him, okay? It won't end up good for you.
Other than that though, Tom will take care of you. He feeds you well, pampers you and even shower you with affection from time to time, which you always try to refuse. Tom tries to spend some time with you whenever he has the time, even with the ongoing war. Tom doesn't usually allow you to be out of the manor, but with his company, he allows you to wander around the garden and as much as you hate his company, a bit of fresh air will certainly do you good after being stuck inside for a long time.
However, with all that, he expects you to do your duties as well. You both might not be married yet, but Tom already views you as his wife, the only thing lacking is a wedding ring between your fingers and a ceremony. It will happen sooner than later. But due to it, you became the lady of the manor is your job to make sure that everything was going well in your 'home', telling the servants on what they must do to keep the cleanliness of the house.
And oh, on that note, you're not able to ask for them to help you escape. You learnt that the hard way because the day after you had tried to ask them, all of their tongues had disappeared, unable to speak properly anymore.
Tom desires to flaunt you to the public after making your relationship with him 'official'. However, he will only start bringing you to balls after he was sure that you will behave and Tom might just make a potion to help with that. He considers it as one of the duties you have to perform as his partner. But oh my, you do look ravishing in that tight dress he picked out for you.
At times during the night, you found Tom rubbing your stomach, eyes full of desire, as he thought fondly of children. He had been unsure of starting a family before. Of course Tom needed an heir, but he didn't think he would ever find himself wanting more children until he met you. It didn't matter if you didn't want children. Sooner or later, before or after marriage, you will be swollen with his child. And what better way to ensure an heir than start now?
512 notes · View notes
faesdreaming · 8 days ago
Text
𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
────────────────────────
content warnings: yandere themes/behaviours, possessiveness, forced companionship, threatened self harm (not reader), reader can be read as afab or amab
Tumblr media
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆:
His royal highness, your sworn liege. You swore an oath, forever binding yourself and your service to him. Knights, of course, he has a plenty. But you? You’re different. Special. He sits above all upon his throne. The burden of his crown is a heavy toll. And unlike the other knights he has in his command, you don’t simply act to obey.
You’re his most trusted advisor alongside being his most loyal soldier. You act to soothe his woes and offer insight. You traverse not just his kingdom but many others on your journey, enabling you to provide a different and rather refreshing perspective. Knights are made to uphold values of honour, loyalty, and nobility but the King has never met one quite as earnest as you.
He remembers the day you were knighted. How you knelt before him and pleaded your eternal loyalty. It’s a fond memory, one he replays whenever your admirers fawn over you or when you go on quests. It acts as a balm to soothe the possessive jealousy that rears its head. And how he loathes your seemingly never ending desire to go on quests. Certainly, before you endeared yourself to him, he hadn’t cared. Attain glory, uphold your honour. It is what knights are meant to do.
Alas, now, he cannot help but detest when you leave. His attempts at making you stay only delay it slightly longer. His orders for your aid, for your company all interrupted by the endless demands for your talents. It drives him mad. You’ve won more than enough glory. You’ve proven your honour and how noble you are countless times.
Stay with him, he’ll grant you every knight’s dream. A castle, large and built with grandeur. And what better castle than his palace? He’ll construct an entire wing, or perhaps an entirely new palace for you. He’ll shower you in all the gold and jewels you could ever want and more. He’ll throw the grandest of feasts and balls in celebration. Whatever your heart desires.
Or perhaps he’ll lock you away in a tower as all mad kings tend to do. Keep his knight all to himself, dressed in the finest silks and draped in exuberant jewelry. Oh, but you’d hate him wouldn’t you? Eyes once filled with shining loyalty showing nothing but contempt and bringing him despair. He couldn’t take it. Yet, he’s slowly and surely waning. Look at what you’ve done to him. Your mighty king beholden to your wishes.
He’s desperate, hungry, yearning for you. His knight, his soldier, his advisor, his confidant. His. Heed his commands, won’t you? For even the kindest rulers committed the worst atrocities when driven mad, and you’ve certainly ignited his descent.
“𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒:
The loveliest damsel across the lands, her highness, the princess. Locked away in a tower by an evil wizard, waiting to be saved by you. Her gallant knight. Do you know how long she’s awaited your arrival? It’s to be expected, of course. Princesses being kidnapped by evil wizards, dragons and other malevolent entities are a common occurrence. As is a knight saving them. It’s destiny.
Certainly other knights have tried before. But all perished at the hands of the wizard who abducted her when she was but a girl and locked her away. She was beginning to think it was hopeless until you came along. Silly her, she knows how it goes. Damsels are saved by honourable knights, then, they live happily ever after. Her entire life she has waited to be saved by you. And now that you have, you’ll wed her of course!
Except you don’t. You refuse to, politely declining her advances. She doesn’t understand. Do you not know how these stories are meant to end? She’s supposed to be your reward, your prize for your heroic deeds. But then, you tell her she’s not a reward, eyes shining earnestly. And oh, even that doesn’t make her fall harder.
No one has ever afforded her autonomy before, she’s always been an object, a prize. It’s like a switch is turned. Suddenly, it’s not a duty, but a desire. She needs you to be by her side. You’re the only person who sees her for who she is.
The princess grows obsessive. She wants to be with you and will do anything to achieve it. Thus, she schemes. She fakes kidnappings and attempted assassinations, all conveniently timed and placed so you’ll be the one to save her. Yes, it may be a tad suspicious but you wouldn’t question her. She’s a hapless damsel and you’re a noble knight, after all.
Of course, she’s not the only damsel you’ve ever saved. She isn’t the first either. But the princess is determined to be the last. Whatever true dangers that require your skills will be shoved to the side when she grows more dramatic with her plots to gain your attention. You must see she’s in need of you. Always in danger. She needs you by her side to protect her.
And if you still refuse to be with her? The princess will have no other option than to take the most drastic measures. You’ll find her up at the edge of the top of the castle’s towers. Dagger poised above her chest, plump eyelashes wet with tears, and a wobbly bottom lip. But in her eyes, all you can see is the madness only lovesick lass could have. She can’t live without you. Thus, you must choose: to be with her or to have the crushing guilt of her death haunt for eternity. Either way, you will hers. Whether through life or death.
“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃:
The fiercest creature known to man, the dragon lord is your natural enemy. He is able to shift from dragon to man in a matter of seconds. Not that it matters, of course. For all knights will fall to his prowess. Then, you come along. At first, the dragon lord dismisses you as yet another fool attempting to slay him. He sighs, bored. Stupid mortals and their useless prides. Did they not understand they would never be able to win? He is the best of both worlds, the mightiest of dragons and men.
Yet, you don’t. You don’t try to slay him. You don’t try to steal his treasures. You reason with him. Your sword is a powerful tool, but you’re a reputed charmer for a reasons. Your words are crafted from a silver tongue. There isn’t a hint of the usual arrogance that men of your station usually hold. This intrigues him. Genuineness is something he hasn’t encountered for centuries. Especially not from a mortal. So, he entertains you. He leaves the village he’s terrorizing, not because he’s swayed by your words, more so you amused him. Yes, that’s it. He returns to his cove of golden treasures, not anticipating to waste a single moment thinking back on you.
Unfortunately for the dragon lord, you plague his mind. He’s an old creature, far older than even your kingdom. And he’s been so very bored for so very long. It leads to him shifting into his human form to gain more information. Only to sate his curiosity, though. Certainly not for any other reason.
His interest is once again peaked when he hears tales of your immense talent. You were holding back against him, weren’t you? Oh, how vexing you are. A simple knight, daring to try and swindle the dragon lord. And how vexing it is for him to have fallen for your coy act. It should irritate him far more than it does. But he’s lacked true companionship for so long. Dragons are a dying species and mortals are unworthy. Well, except for you.
Yes, you’d make a suitable companion. The dragon lord decides that you are his new companion and sets off to find you. Shifting back into his dragon form, he scours the land for you. Upon recognizing your scent, the dragon lord swoops down and nabs your unsuspecting form. You try and protests but he’s far too strong and large for you to fight off. He flies you back to his trove of treasures. The dragon lord sets you amongst his precious possessions, at the center, of course. For you are the most precious of all.
You’re smart, aware you cannot escape him with strength. So you try with wit. You bide time, keep him entertained and try to slip out. It’s a process you repeat multiple times, with the dragon lord catching you each time. He’s never cross with you, if anything, he’s amused. You truly are entertaining. The dragon lord will never take your attempts seriously. You’re a game to him. You may be his companion, but you’re more akin to a bird in a cage than an equal. You’re still his possession, after all. He’s a dragon lord, possessive instincts demanding he hoards you away from everything and keep you all to himself.
“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇:
The mistress of the black arts, the witch doesn’t expect to fall for someone such as yourself. She doesn’t expect to fall for anyone at all. Witches are, by nature, deceitful. They are beautiful and cruel. They engage in the dark arts. However, they are not all pure evil. Some have a modicum of compassion in their hearts. And you seem to draw out hers. Perhaps it’s because she’s known you since childhood. Before you were a glorious knight and she an infamous witch, you two were just children with seemingly impossible dreams and the weight of the world on your shoulders. But time changes things, it’s made what should be enemies out of you by the nature of your positions. Yet she cannot bring herself to hate you.
Not when you are truly noble, as knights are supposed to be. She’s encountered many a proclaimed knight in her time. All eager to vanquish her. Yet they all fail. And they all contribute to her disdain towards the blinded citizens of kingdom and the selfish aristocracy. What are knights but dogs to the nobility and monsters to the innocents? She’s seen knights and paladins set villages ablaze, slaughter innocents in the name of either their king or their whims. All knights disgust her. All except you, of course.
You’re her dreamer. You’re her innocence. You’re still the same person who believed in fairytales and noble values because you uphold them. That’s why you’re so beloved. By everyone, but most of all, her. You’ve never turned on her. You understand her nature as not evil. You even go as far as to bring her potion ingredients. She’s your dearest companion. The witch relishes in the thrall she has over you. In the thrall you have over her. You two, bound by mutual past, shall be intertwined in the future.
The witch strives to protect you. She patches up every wound you receive, regardless of how small, with her potion brews. She enchants a charm to ensure your safety— and if it happens to allow her to watch over her at all times, then it’s only because she wishes to keep you safe. And perhaps she may curse her rivals for your affection, so what? A light hex never hurt anyone. She’s indefinitely more relaxed than your other options, though. Witches, while some join covens, prefer independence. She would never want to stifle you.
So, the witch does what she does best. She casts curses and creates enchantments to keep you out of harms way. You may embark on your quests, you may indulge in your whims, but she is certain you will always return to her. And if you don’t? Well, she is a master of the dark arts. She can easily summon you and tether you to her. But she won’t. Probably.
Overall, the witch is concerned about your safety. She may guard you from a distance, but she guards you viciously. You are the only connection to her past, you are the only one who understands her. She cannot bear to lose you to anyone or anything.
“𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜.”
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍:
A rival, a friend, an equal. This is what they are to you. The paladin, once a squire alongside you, now a sworn knight of the Holy Order. How your paths have differed. Yet, in some ways, you remain the same. Namely, the competition between you. The paladin is always one step behind, has been since your days as a squire. You best them at spars, at races both on horse and foot, in accolades as well. They’re a paladin, and yet, you receive more recognition than them. It drives them mad. You drive them mad.
For one, they should be above the petty jealousy you stir. They should be satisfied with their status. But they are not. They always compare themself to you. They want so desperately to share the light you unwittingly bask in. Alas, none of it is for them. They resent you, they loathe you. Even worse, they respect you. Beyond your skill, you’re the paradigm of a true knight. You’re noble and good-hearted in a cruel world. You’re pure in a way no one else is. It inspires nothing but admiration. The paladin has admired you since your shared youth, they even tried to convince you to take up the Holy Vows
They’ve yet to succeed, but they won’t stop trying. After all, you’re all they’ve been chasing after. You’re the peak they seek. They train relentlessly to improve. Not to become your equal, but to become your better. They want to surpass you, to prove themselves worthy. They want you to look at them the way they’ve looked at you. The paladin wants to be the center of your world.
They work tirelessly. And yet, you always seem to far away. Their obsession grows deeper, more dangerous. The more attention you gain, the more desperate they become. How can the paladin reach you if you’re so far away? It calls for more drastic measures. Perhaps sabotaging your reputation, or ruining your quests. Ensuring you have no one to turn to beside them. Maybe even a maiming is in order, something to incapacitate you and keep you in the paladin’s grasp.
Don’t worry. They’ll be worthy someday. Until then, the paladin will watch from afar, stewing with jealousy and yearning. Be careful though. One wrong move could have the paladin turning towards the more unsavoury means of attaining you. They’d be remiss to, of course, but they cannot let you slip from their hold.
“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬.”
────────────────────────
a/n: I’m back, from a very long hiatus. Special thanks to @forbidden-sunlight for motivating me to get back into writing :)
more yandere fae + new works coming soon
269 notes · View notes
failuredraws-exe · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Cadenza Zvahl, Queen of the Swamp.
The adopted daughter of Hayden-husband to the lord of Meteli, Joh- sister to Laurance Zvahl, Cadenza fancies herself a princess.
Though, *technically* speaking, she is, in a way. Her step-father is a lord beloved by all, and her father a well respected diplomat. She is high ranking in society, wears the latest fashions, pioneers for her people, has animal (chicken) companions, is kind, understanding, fun! Everything a proper princess should be! If only she didn’t live in a swamp.
Cadenza fancies herself a princess, whilst her brother fancies her a brat.
The only *society* Cadenza is high ranking in is the little plot of muddy land they call home. She wears the latest fashions but ventures town barefoot. She does pioneer for her people! When she isn’t sleeping the days away in fields of flowers. And don’t get him started on the chickens.
She’s kind but petty, understanding but blunt, fun but irresponsible. She is aloof, she is demanding, she is young. His bratty, kid sister. The Queen of the Swamp. A name he coined, a title she hates.
A *proper* princess would live in a high castle surrounded by gardens of roses and decorated with intricately carved statues of heroes from myth and gods and goddesses! A *proper* princess would be dripping in real gold, and her clothes would be woven from the finest of silk. Her hair would be combed and her skin would be smooth! A *proper* princess would never suffer from the heat and humidity, she would be wasting the hours away, lying on a cushioned seat and being fanned by servants! A proper, acceptable princess would be born in a place like O’khasis, not Meteli.
What her brother knows, and what Cadenza will not admit, is that she is not a proper princess.
Cadenza, in all her blazing glory, is indecent.
The clothes that she wears as if they were sewn yesterday, were fashionable seasons ago. The gold bangles that adorn her wrists and ankles are fake. She bathes in lakes, consorts with chickens of all creatures, and doesn’t even attempt to wrangle her hair. Her skin is bumpy and her legs are riddled with burn marks, scars she wears proudly. On a hot day, when work needs to be done, she’d be the first out in the sun and the last inside. She is bold and loud, opting to rather have her tongue be cut out than to ever hold it. In every way that matters, she is the exact opposite of a proper, acceptable O’khasis-born Princess.
And that’s exactly why Laurance loves her.
Through all the bratty bluntness, through all the demands stands proudly a young girl who cares with all her heart about the little plot of muddy, humid, damp land they call home. The Cadenza Zvahl he loves looks upon the world in all its horror and smiles at the atrocities when everyone else would scowl. There are so many things Laurance hates about Ru’uan, but for every terrible thing he could count, Cadenza Zvahl would count five times as many things that she loves.
The Epitome of Hope, her father would call her.
When Joh passed, when her father was presumed dead, each and every time her brother went missing from the realm; she never let her grief nor anger consume her. Even when it was all she wanted to do, even when she had every right to curse the world, when she had every right to hate, and hate and hate. She always chose to love.
Cadenza Zvahl lives her life with hope. A trait that never falters, and one befitting a title far stronger than Princess.
Indecent and fashionable, blunt and understanding, proud and kind. Meteli-born and raised.
Cadenza Zvahl, the Queen of the Swamp.
317 notes · View notes
areislol · 3 months ago
Text
life as a monarch isn't easy, of course, but with a needy and infatuated concubine on top, it just makes your life and duties far more difficult than they need to be.
infatuated! chen liu, your favoured concubine, is a constant presence in your life. draped in the finest silks and adorned with gold ornaments, he’s the very picture of elegance—and perhaps a bit too spoiled.
his adoration for you is unmistakable, bordering on obsession, and it often complicates your already demanding responsibilities as a ruler.
he always follows you around wherever you are, his doe eyes filled with longing whenever you’re out of sight for too long. he’s ecstatic when you ask for him to accompany you, whether it's a simple walk through the gardens or a more formal event.
chen liu can’t stand the thought of sharing your time, let alone your affections. he pouts when you visit other palaces, pressing his lips to your ankle in a silent plea for reassurance. the more you distance yourself, the more insistent he becomes, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.
despite this, you find it hard to reprimand him harshly. you know he would throw a tantrum if he could, but he’s careful not to embarrass you in public.
the tension between your duties and chen liu’s constant need for your presence grows more apparent. you’re often preoccupied with matters of state—diplomatic meetings, strategies to strengthen the kingdom, and managing the delicate balance of power among the nobles.
yet, every time you return to your chambers, you’re greeted by the sight of chen liu, waiting anxiously for a moment of your time.
he’s there when you wake up, his eyes lighting up the moment you acknowledge him. he’s by your side during meals, though his gaze is often fixated on you rather than the food. and in the evenings, he lingers near your quarters, hoping for an invitation to spend the night with you.
the other concubines are aware of his favoured status, and while they dare not voice their jealousy, you can sense the unease it creates. chen liu, however, seems oblivious to this, entirely focused on you.
but lately, his behaviour has started to concern you. he’s become more possessive, subtly questioning you about your visits to other palaces. his tone, once playful and adoring, now carries an undercurrent of fear—fear that you might one day choose someone else over him.
currently, you sat at your desk, surrounded by scrolls, letters, and missives as the morning sun streamed through the tall windows of your private chambers, casting a golden light across the finely woven tapestries and marble floors.
being a monarch was no simple task. today, like every day, you balanced the needs of your kingdom with the politics of foreign palaces, trying to secure alliances and maintain peace.
as you read through a letter from a neighbouring royal house, a soft knock came at the door. without needing to look up, you knew who it was—chen liu.
"enter," you called, your voice steady but distracted.
chen liu stepped into the room, dressed in his usual elegant robes of rich silk. his movements were graceful, but you could sense the tension in the way he carried himself.
he always exuded poise, but there was something in his demeanour today that seemed... off. you knew why, of course. chen liu did not enjoy sharing your attention, especially when that attention was given to other royals, diplomats, or anyone who took time away from him.
"your highness," he said softly, coming to stand beside your desk. His eyes flicked over the scrolls, his lips pressing into a thin line before quickly returning to his usual soft expression. "allow me to bring you some tea."
you smiled, though your eyes remained on the parchment in front of you. "thank you, chen liu. tea would be nice."
He bowed his head, his silky raven-coloured hair cascading in silky waves, framing a face that was both delicate and striking, an eye candy that drew attention effortlessly as he turned to fetch the tea. the room was quiet again, but you could feel his silent frustration in the air.
chen liu never voiced his jealousy, never acted out, especially not in public, but you knew him well enough to recognise the small signs: the way his jaw tightened when you spoke of foreign dignitaries, the way his hands lingered a little longer when he served you as if trying to reclaim your focus.
when he returned with the tea, he poured it with the same careful elegance he always did, setting the cup before you. you took a sip, grateful for the warmth, but you couldn’t ignore the quiet tension.
"you’ve been distracted lately," he said softly, standing beside you, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk. "so many letters, so many meetings. your attention is always... elsewhere."
you paused, setting the cup down and finally looking up at him. his expression was calm, but his dark eyes held a sadness, a quiet frustration.
“you’ve been visiting the phoenix feather abode often,” he remarks one evening, his voice tinged with unease. he’s kneeling at your feet now—something he grew fond of doing—his fingers lightly brushing against your robes as if seeking to anchor himself to you.
“is there someone there who’s captured your interest?”
you sigh, not again.
“my duties require me to visit all the palaces,” you explain gently, hoping to ease his mind. “it’s not a matter of preference, chen liu.”
but he remains unconvinced, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “then why have you not visited me as often?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “have i done something to displease you?”
you can visibly see how his brows furrow, the fear that he’s losing his place in your heart. it’s a delicate situation, one that requires careful handling. you reach out, lifting his chin so that he meets your gaze directly.
"you could never displease me, liu," you assured him, "you are my most cherished companion, but i cannot let my personal desires interfere with the needs of the kingdom."
chen liu knows that, he knows that there's no one else in the world who could make you as happy as he could, who could satisfy you, who could meet your needs. but even so, he wishes you could just focus on him even if it was a couple of minutes.
his fingers tightened around the hem of your robe, his eyes filled with desperation. "your majesty," he murmured, his voice trembling, "please, just a moment of your time. i need you... i need your touch."
you could feel the intensity of his need as he clung to you, his gaze pleading. it was clear that his heart ached with the absence of your presence, with a sigh, you gently pried his fingers from your robe, your touch tender despite the firm resolve in your voice.
"chen liu," you began softly, "i understand your worries, but... please understand, my duties require me to be away. the alliances and meetings are absolutely crucial for the stability of the kingdom."
his eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he took a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. "i know, your majesty. it's just that... every day, it feels like I'm losing a piece of you. the time we used to share seems like a distant memory."
he knows the way he's acting right now is childish. he was a concubine, your concubine, not a lover.
liu's patience seemed to wear thin as he gripped your robe with frustration, his earlier submissive demeanour subsiding. "you know i don't like it when you pay attention to anyone other than me," he murmured, his teeth gritting with irritation.
his eyes, once filled with pleading, now sparkled with a challenging glint. "why bother going to see those men? you have me."
"it's not fair, you know. you spend so much time with them, making deals and alliances, while i'm left here, waiting for scraps of your attention. do i mean so little to you now?"
your eyes widened slightly at the shift in his tone. his behaviour caught you off guard, although you weren't all that surprised by his brattiness. he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as if to shield himself from the reality of your obligations.
"i will not discuss this any further," you said firmly, your tone brooking no argument. "feel free to stay and be silent or leave."
chen liu's eyes widened at the finality in your voice, a mix of defiance and hurt flickering across his face. he took a deep, shaky breath, his posture shifting as he grappled with his emotions.
he hesitated, glancing around the room with an air of uncertainty. the room, filled with the soft glow of lanterns and the muted colours of opulent silks, suddenly felt colder to him.
he lowered his gaze, a sign of both surrender and submission. "i apologise," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "i'll stay."
chen liu remained at his spot beside your legs, his earlier brattiness replaced by a sulking silence.
you watched him for a moment, your heart heavy with the knowledge that the distance between you had grown despite your best efforts. turning back to your paperwork, you felt a pang of sadness, but what else could you do?
as you continued with your tasks, you cast occasional glances at your concubine. despite his silent brooding, he stayed put, and before you both knew it, hours passed, and as the day drew to a close, you finally set aside your work.
the room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the floor. you turned to find chen liu still there, his eyes fighting hard to stay open.
with a sigh, you reached out your hand, beckoning him closer. he wasted no second, rising to his feet and standing up. his fingers brushed against yours, and for the first time that day, you allowed yourself to let go of your burdens, if only for a moment.
"come," you said softly, pulling him into your embrace. "you’ve waited long enough."
his arms wrapped around you tightly, his head resting against your shoulder as if he feared you might slip away again.
for tonight, you could afford to forget the world outside. for tonight, chen liu would be your world, just as fate wished for you two to be.
and as you held him, his grip tightened, just slightly, silently promising that he’d never let you go, no matter what.
252 notes · View notes
insomniac-hours · 2 months ago
Text
06 // Dragon
This is part of my Yantober writing list Fafnir the Dragon TW; You're sacrificed, kidnapping, murder mentions but not detailed at all, your fams betrayal, slightly suggestive moment that isn't really sexual, creepy behavior at times
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Blue Dragon Yan that terrorizes your village whenever they do not meet the quota.
He demands treasure, whether it's gold or silk or information does not matter as long as he can add it to his hoard.
Blue Dragon Yan that arrives to collect his monthly payment, only to see you sitting atop a small sack full of gold and jewels.
Blue Dragon Yan that realizes that your village is sacrificing you due to not having enough for the usual pay, if the less than pathetic amount of treasure was anything to go by.
Blue Dragon Yan that has been wishing for a mate, wanting to feel the love of another for so long and deciding to spare your life in hopes of making you his lover.
Blue Dragon Yan that gathers its things and, with as much gentleness as it can provide in its monstrous form, picks up your smaller form.
Blue Dragon Yan that takes you to his cave and sets you down on a pile of clothing, your bindings undone by his sharp claws, blue eyes glowing as he gives you space.
Blue Dragon Yan that watches you as much as you watch him, graceful and silent as he moves out of his cave to gather you fruits to eat every day.
Blue Dragon Yan that takes a few weeks of both of you getting used to each other before he finally shows you his human form.
A tall, elegant man with long dark hair, blue eyes that glow, horns that curve upward in such a delicate stroke, and a long tail swaying behind him like a cat's tail would.
Blue Dragon Yan that cuddles you that night, despite your wiggling and attempts to shove him away, wanting to feel your warmth against him after longing for a mate for so long.
Desperate to have you, mate with you and show you just how much adoration he held for you after weeks of watching you and picking up your habits.
Blue Dragon Yan that gets you the finest clothes, covering you in his jewels and making sure you look beautiful at all times.
Blue Dragon Yan that will kill any human that comes in search of you, refusing to believe that you want to escape him.
Blue Dragon Yan that claws at your silk-clad body, hungry for your body but not wanting to scare you away from him further.
Blue Dragon Yan that strokes your sleeping body, staring at your face and memorizing each dip and curve in your skin.
Blue Dragon Yan that never plans to let you out of his cave, deciding that it would be much too dangerous for a simple human like you.
After all, wasn't it your own father that had thrown you into the clutches of a terrifying beast?
130 notes · View notes
le-monchou · 12 days ago
Text
we keep behind closed doors || jingyuan
Tumblr media
note: i know i am late as hell but i had issues haha. this could also be a big multichapter jing yuan fic but idk. jing yuan my husband yes sir anything for you 🤤🤤🤤|| minors please do not interact with the post || 552 words || kinktober masterlist.
Tumblr media
there’s something curious about your latest client. the purest white hair, as fluffy as a lion’s mane, and just as messy with how he stashes money inside of it, and yet having eyes so sharp that the entire world could cut itself on it. he’s silent, used to making requests and demands with his eyes alone, and though you hate the egoistic clients who barely make you come, his ego isn’t as fragile as he makes it out to be. “hello, dearest.” is how he always starts before you hear the familiar jingling of a pant drop, jewellery, belt and all. 
“hello, sir.” you whisper into the dark, a tentative hand between your legs moving so fast and steady that one could consider you’ve been pavloved into sex and sweat and the ease he brings with him. this man is the only customer who gets you in this kind of mood, after all. “you’ve missed me, i see.” light, lilting- this man has a habit of messing around with you. “i’ve missed you too, dearest. won’t you come closer?” 
there is no more ‘closer’ to come to, not without losing this job, you want to say, but honestly? this is a shitty job, and men like him are 1 in a 1000, so you shuffle on your knees, biting your lip at the friction as the door opens and you close your eyes out of habit. “there’s my dearest. keep those beautiful eyes closed just like that.” the man murmurs as he ties a silk band around your eyes before covering your body with the thin robe offered by your employer. 
“now, my dearest.” he starts, kissing your cheek before hooking your robe in his hands, “do i have your permission?” you nod, unsure about where this was supposed to be going, nervous about getting in trouble, but all that fades when the man kisses your neck and inches his way towards your chest, kissing and biting your skin as his hands make his way to your hips. “when you tell me to stop, i shall. not a word more i need from you. if you do enjoy it, just let me hear you, dearest.” you nod, sighing as he massages your sore body before pushing you onto your back gently, laying you on the finest silk before gently inserting a wet finger into your cunt. 
“this i had been waiting to do for ages, dearest.” he sighs as he inserts another gently, bending over to kiss your cheek, neck and chest, littering them with bites that you knew would blossom like the forbidden red lillies in the dark. eventually, he speeds up the pace as he finds the spot that gives you the most pleasure, and as you climax, you feel his hair graze you gently like the exquisite silk curtains many women say grace the rooms of the luofu general’s home along with your work name whispered like praise instead something so shameful and dirty like most men make it out to be. 
and as you lay on the silk cloak, catching your breath, he waves your- in no less terms- owner over, and says simply, “i will buy their freedom. consider all their debts paid, and for any discrepancies… well, you may contact the general of the xianzhou luofu.”
Tumblr media
98 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 1 year ago
Text
Sugar daddy Rhysand
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: What would our High Lord be as your sugar daddy?
warnings: mdni, nsfw, sexual themes,
A/N: This was so fun to make!!
banners: @cafekitsune
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
- sugar daddy Rhysand who overhears you and your friends at Rita’s talking about how you’re struggling with your rent and scholar fees.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who initally seeks you out and introduces himself for it to be more of a business transaction.
- Sure thing, it's a win-win for both of you. Rhysand covers your expenses, and you take care of his physical needs.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who has an overload of money which would be perfect to spend on you.
- In return, you give him company and comfort. You accompany him to balls, go on dates, shopping sprees, listen when he needs someone to talk to.
- You both agree that this is a good dynamic, and that neither one of you view this as a romantic relationship. You agree that neither one will fall in love. It’s strictly physical.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who at first seems to just like hanging out with you, making you wonder why he's into the whole sugar baby thing instead of dating. But after he starts sending money your way following your first few meet-ups, you stop questioning it.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who picks out luxurious lingerie in the hues he believes complement your skin tone and shape, choosing the finest laces and silks available. He's well aware they won't stay on for long, but he still likes seeing you in them either way.
- sugar daddy Rhysand whose cock hardens everytime he buys you something. Seeing you flash a smile and your little ” thank you daddy, I love it!! ” makes his pride and ego skyrocket
- sugar daddy Rhysand who makes you an authorized user on his account so that you never have to ask him for money. He links your accounts together so that anything he earns ends up in your account aswell.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who kisses you extra hard infront of males who try to hit on you, making it clear to them that you’re off limits.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who rewards you whenever you show him a good grade by eating you out on his throne, with you wearing his crown.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who punishes you when you’re bratty by edging you for hours, and when you finally think he’s giving in after apologizing and begging, he steps away with a wicked grin.
” Bet you’re never doing it again. ”
” M’so sorry daddy, I promise I didn’t mean to flirt with that guy! I swear I’ll never ever do it again, just l-let me come, please. “
- sugar daddy Rhysand who finally lets you come, but only if you ride him with no assistance, because at the end of the day, he could never truly deny you. But he still needs to show you that he doesn’t tolerate brats, so you’ll have to chase your own high.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who lets you know in you mind that Keir managed to piss him off yet again with his relentless talk, and commands you to wait for him in his bed, naked, to fuck his anger out on you.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who gives you 5000 $ for everytime you come on his fingers when you’re out for dinner at a fancy restaurant, who loved speeding his fingers up when the waiter comes to take your orders, watching your face flush, thinking it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who buys you an incredible and luxurious apartment in the fancy neighborhoods of velaris, making you his neighbor aswell. He pays for all maintenance and whatever decorations and renovations you desire.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who is confused when he finds out you spend your own money, demanding to see the receipt so he can give you back the amount you spent. He finds it almost offensive.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who lays on your chest as you scrape your nails against his scalp to calm him down after a shitty day
- sugar daddy Rhysand who cheers for you the loudest at your graduation. Who buys you the most thoughtfull gift that makes you bawl your eyes out.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who brings you along on trips to other courts because he desires your company so much. Is there a hidden agenda when he reserves the most romantic accommodations? Certainly not. He simply wants the best for his sweet girl.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who treats you as though you were tailor-made for him, with a captivating blend of gentleness and authority that never fails to turn you on. His imposing stature and unwavering willingness to fulfill desires, whether it be financially or physically, surpasses your previous lovers in every way.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who slowly starts to fall in love with the things you do for him, and starts to realize that he has broken your inital agreement to not fall in love.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who is wary of telling you incase you don’t share the same feelings. But he braves it and tells you anyways because it kills him to not be able to rightfully claim you.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who is over the moon and could cry from relief and happiness when you tell him that you’ve been feeling the same.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who fucks you so gently and romantic with whispers of sweet nothings and promises for the future the night of the confession.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who sees the way your eyes sparkle and cheeks heat when he first introduces you as his for the first time. He swears he feels his heart burst out of his chest to see you so happy and content.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who feels that golden thread, binding your souls together after a few months of dating.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who sets up to have the biggest, most luxurious and ornate mating ceremony in Prythian when you decide to bake his favorite pie for him, ultimately accepting the bond that intertwine your very souls.
- sugar daddy Rhysand who makes sure you never need or want for anything, who treats you like his queen, and gives you the life you deserve.
Tumblr media
677 notes · View notes
sfehvn · 1 year ago
Text
new religion part 2
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Description: AU- Things have gone too far between you and Astarion and he's not sure he'd ever be able to give you what you truly want. Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,804 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x fem!au!Tav
Tumblr media
━─━────༺༻────━─━
  Luxurious fur blessed your fingertips, stroking absently at the feline across your lap. You hummed a sweet tune as you continued your project. Astarion had the finest oil paints in Faerûn imported to nourish your new hobby. Looking at the canvas, well, it was very much a mess of colors. So much so that he would not have been able to make out what the picture was intended to be if he had not known. He would praise you all the same regardless. As a token of thanks, you had requested he sit for you in the garden while you paint him. 
  “You will be the first to have an original Tav piece. You can show it off when I’m a famous painter.” You joked as he assisted with setting up the easel.
  The kitten that purred against your touch was also a gift. One comment was made about how you had always wanted a cat but never had the room for one; it was just another opportunity to shower you with all of the gifts you had so deserved. The joy on your face when he presented you with the tiny feline made his heart swoon. Astarion would admit he had yet to think that offering through, though. When you were not present, which was most of the time, he had to care for the wretched little thing. His feigned attitude towards the kitten, which you had so ominously named Georgie, was a facade. He had grown to find comfort in the furball curling up to him in bed in your absence. He even caught himself cooing to the blasted little creature on occasion.
  Astarion sat in the wrought iron chair across from you, a forgotten book propped open on his forearm as he admired the tenacity on your face, tongue jutting ever-so-slightly from between succulent lips as you struggled to work with the paints. How could you be so blissfully oblivious to the beauty you are? He wondered, his head resting in the palm of his unoccupied hand. He had a burning fire in his chest, demanding he show you not only your beauty but that you deserved much more than the small cottage you shared with seven other occupants. Your rightful position was right next to him in his palace. You deserved to have everybody else waiting at your beck and call, not the other way around. You insisted you could not leave your family, nevertheless.
-
  “Stay here with me. I promise I’ll make it worth your while, my pet.” The two of you lay bare, entangled in silk sheets and each other’s arms. Astarion stroked the delicate pink skin of your cheek with the careful tips of his fingers, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. His words caused you to let out an amused giggle at his bequest. His eyebrows knitted together, and a slight frown played at the edges of his lips. He was serious.
  Your smile dropped, and an apologetic look graced your features. “Oh, Astarion.” You sighed wistfully. “I just can’t. Not right now. Papa’s not doing well; I can’t just abandon him. Lillian needs a lot of guidance at this time, and with Alan having just moved into his own home now that he’s married, there’s no one to take care of our younger sisters.” You sputtered out. Astarion noted the stress that marred your face and decided to drop the matter for now.
  “Sh, my treasure.” He coaxed, pulling your head into his chest. “We can address it later.”
-
  Astarion pondered on when he had gone so soft, for lack of better words. Before you, there was no hesitation to steal what he wanted. Much easier it would have been to just bite you, keeping you to himself for all of eternity. He had thought about it when the disdain of being apart grew too great. This was after you, though. You had brought a bright light into his world of darkness, and he knew you would never be the same if he made such a decision on your behalf. 
  Guilt regularly gnawed at a conscious he wasn’t even aware he’d had. He still hadn’t found the courage to tell you of his true nature. You often called the raised tissue on his neck his vampire bite, and he’d always panic at the joke, wondering if he’d been found out. Inwardly, of course, he ensured he remained calm and collected on appearance. Soon, he told himself. He’d let you enjoy the normalcy of your current relationship for just a while longer.
  Your groan fractured him from his thoughts. “Okay, it’s actually terrible. Please don’t laugh at me.” You pouted. 
  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.” Astarion assured, setting his book down on the table before him, pushing back his chair, and standing up. He bent down to get a better look at the canvas. “My, that’s a beautifully eclectic rendition of yours truly.” He hums, resting his hands on your shoulders, squeezing in encouragement. He meant it. It was something you had created; of course he would love it.
  “Okay, you are officially the biggest liar I know.” You grinned, patting his hand softly as he shifted away. Georgie stretched in your lap. You placed him down, smiling as he hurried away into the open door of the manor.
  “Your words wound me.” He holds his hands to his chest dramatically. “I’ll display it in the foyer.” His finger reaches to tap the tip of your nose playfully.
  “I guess it must truly be Astarion approved then.” You hummed, recalling how tumultuous he had acted when replacing the art in his foyer. It must be perfect, he had said; first impressions are everything, my dear. “I don’t think your guests would be in agreeance with you.” At this point, you had stood on your tip-toes, planting a sweet kiss on his lips.
  He dismissed your presumption with a wave of his hand. “Nonsense, my love. You question my tastes? When I’ve got you on my arm? I’ve already won.” His index finger taps the underside of your chin, encouraging your mouth to his. You oblige, and Astarion lets out a delighted laugh against your lips. He would never grow tired of how easily you unraveled for him and him only. Without breaking contact, he reaches down to grip the backs of your thighs, lifting you from the ground and setting you on the garden table.
  Your breathing hitched as his hands wrought at the bottom of your dress, pushing the hem up until it pooled around your waist. His fingers brushed your mound over already-soaked underwear. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “So ready for me already, pet? I’ve barely touched you.” Spoken like a purr, causing goosebumps to bloom over your skin. He buried his nose into your neck and breathed your scent in deeply. Chamomile and lavender had become distinctively you. His eyes close as your fingers tread over his scalp, hooking into his hair. “Keep touching me like that, treasure. I’ll fuck you right here.” 
  “Please. It’s been too long.” You murmur. It had indeed, he thought. This was your first day together after being apart for ten long, agonizing days. His fingers push your underwear to the side, the tips hardly swiping over your drenched core. The contact motivated your body further against him. Your breasts pressed to his firm chest, and he brought his unoccupied hand to sit atop them, thumb stroking delicious skin.
  Greedy hands moved to the front of his trousers and at the feeling of his bulge, you ached to feel him inside of you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and tenderly pushed your hands away. Your expression was one of rejection that panged Astarion’s undead heart, but his demeanor was one of significance. He took your hands in his as he stared deeply into your eyes. “Stay with me, Tav. The manor has never been this airy without you. I mean- I understand you have responsibilities you believe are your own, but I could give you everything.”
  With a furrowed brow, you sluggishly pull away from him. “These responsibilities are my own. This is my family, Astarion.” You pursed your lips, looking everywhere but at the man before you.
  “Pet, don’t be silly. They are holding you back. I recognize you love them, but you cannot put your needs on hold to protect them forever.” He reaches out to brush the hair from your face, but you quickly dodge the touch, pressing him aside so you can stand from your position on the table. His jaw clenches in annoyance, but he allows you your space.
  “So, what? My father will be buried beside my mother soon, and you are so selfish that you can’t even give me the grace to spend his last days with him.” He had never seen the fire on your face; your usual demeanor dissolved.
  Astarion’s jaw slackens, and he shakes his head in response. “I’m just thinking big picture. Where will your sisters go when the time comes, Tav? Are you to give your entire life to them? How is it fair to you?”
  “If that is what must be done, then so be it.” Astarion noted how heavy your chest heaved, your body shaking from anger. You were angry with him.
  “And what of me?” He was mindful of how needy and, as you said, selfish he sounded but couldn’t hold back. “What do you want with me if not forever?” Indeed, you couldn’t expect him to house the entire cavalry that was your family.
  You froze and gulped in a large breath to calm your nerves. Maybe you have been negligent of his feelings as things grew more serious between you two. “I want you, Astarion. I want everything with you. I want to take your last name. I want to bear your children. I want to care for you until we’re both old and gray.” There’s a crack in your voice as you stifle back tears. Astarion’s stare softens, his stomach plunging at the knowledge of only ever being able to gift you one of those things. “I’ve always dreamt of creating a family of my own. Of being a mother to children created with the man I love.” You pause to swipe at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I can’t leave my sisters to fend for themselves. I won’t.” 
  Astarion observes you as you collect your shawl, exiting the garden without another word. He’d let things go too far. He’d led you to believe this future you dreamed of could be achieved with him and even encouraged the delusions in his own way. Perhaps you would be better off if this relationship came to a close.
442 notes · View notes