#i did what i must for queen and country

[secret-fungi]

Pomegranate

Book: Thunderstorm saga Paring: Tai/ MC (Verena) Word count: 6000+ words Rating: M Warnings: sexual content, mentions of abuse, physical injury, bruising, and emotional harm. ooc characters.

He glanced at the thick, dark clouds that rushed like an angry tide. His room illuminated for brief seconds at a time with each strike of lighting. It cast his room in long dark shadows, making monsters out of chairs and enemies out of dressers. The once vibrant moon hid behind an opaque curtain. The chill seeped in through the stones and wrapped around him, and when the breeze hit his window, the curtains swayed and the candle’s flame faltered. Despite the hour and all the day's tasks, he lingered, taking a long sip from his glass he turned his eyes towards his desk. The letter with its seal broken sat lamely by a lantern. It was long overdue to sit on his desk, yet when it came, months too late, an indented line cut across her family’s crest, and the bottom of the page was torn. 

Once again, he set his jaw, letting out an aggravated breath before he decided to pick up the torn letter once more. For the first time since receiving it, he opened it. Neat letters, formal greetings, how training was going. Any touch of goodwill they had built together seemed to have cooled the farther she was. Or, at the very least, the parts he could read were formal. The tops of some letters peaked from the tear. ‘I’ ‘T’ ….. ‘V’ or maybe it was a Y. He tried to guess the sentences as he drank his wine. Maybe the other half of the jagged page spoke of missing him, or how she spent her days, if she enjoyed the local food and slept well in the mountain air, if she enjoyed her time and regretted having to leave– unlikely. Maybe the page told of her anger, and how she was glad to be so far from his entire family, a formal goodbye and nothing more.  

Whatever she wrote at the end of the page, the knowledge of it was kept far from him. Another flash of lighting, as he frowned he looked at the back of the letter. The shadows flashed once more. He set the letter down, tucking it between the pages of a book as thunder rattled the stones and the leaves trembled violently outside as he sat to pen a response. 

She would be concerned if he told her the truth, So he made up a lie, and responded to the rest, once again reminding her that she needn’t write to him so formally. He asked if she enjoyed the company if she was kept so busy that she couldn’t write, how she enjoyed the sights of the empire if only to picture how she’d sit and try and come up with a diplomatic response. He set it off with a wave of his hand before he fell asleep.

I don’t know what to write. I’ve written to my king, the princess and all, but it is different to tell you about those things. Are you hesitant too? It seems   Undo to write to you with trivial things. It’s fascinating to be here. It is much different than back home. Sha’arnez is an excellent teacher but he keeps me busy. I am too tired to think of anything worthy to tell you. There are flowers here, they remind me of home. I’m told you call them something different than we do, for us it is a windflower. – Verena ey Vedtree  

But the days continued without much to say, the storm calmed, and then a new one appeared, the cycle unbroken as he sat, leaned back in his chair as he read. Once more, the night had held him hostage, and again he found himself returning to his thoughts. The sun had fled once more, and rain slowly began to beat down on the glass roof. Still, he stayed, unbothered by the change as footsteps passed him by. He lingered in the space full of blossoming life despite the hour and the dinner waiting to be served. The rain pattered against the roof, and when the stars above gave no light, the lanterns around the room lit up, wine was brought, and the rain rattled on, and Tai returned to the letter that had been tucked between the pages, something to mark his spot, a hidden treasure, and a warning. 

He knew it was a warning. A lesson not to interfere, He knew. All it ever was, was a threat to tell him not to be too eager. All it ever was, was a cane to the back of his legs.

The storm had worsened, the sound drowning out much else, and for a while longer, he enjoyed that peace, swearing to himself that he would rise in just a moment, but the air whispered its command, the howling of the wind and the song of the rain, its plead to make him stay just that much longer. And so he did until he was interrupted once again. 

  “Greetings, Your Highness.” Sha’arnez greeted, with a bow as he tried not to disturb the figure in his arms, the dark, thick fabric spilled over his arms like a waterfall, and only then, when he heard a familiar voice did he look up, dark eyes switching from resting on the figure in the man’s arms or the man himself, with a raise of his brow the other quickly spoke up. “She fell asleep,” Sha’arnez explained. “Did she not ride herself?” “No, she got hurt and is unable to.” He replied dutifully as if the pair weren’t making a small puddle as the man stood before the prince. 

Tai stilled, furrowing his brows and glancing at the sleeping woman before he looked at the other. “You’ve brought her home injured?” Tai asked, a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips before he parted them once more, only to be interrupted. “This is not my home,” Verena interjected for the first time alerting the men that she was awake. She looked directly at him as she spoke, firmly, offense edged every inch of her statement. The prince made a strange face like he chewed his words along with the emotions that rose with them before he straightened out. “My apologies, I meant no offense.” He relented before slowly looking over the mage. “Can you walk?” “Yes,” she said before the other could speak for her. She stood on her own, drowning in her soaked cloak in front of him. 

He stilled for a moment, as she looked at him with a challenge in her eyes and raised a brow. “Come, Send for the physician.” “I’ve already been seen.” “And you’ll be seen again,” he said. She glanced at the rider before he nodded. A silent conversation that seemed so loud as he stood outside of it. “Have her things brought to her room for her.” Tai instructed, “Is there much to discuss?” She asked as if it was foreign. But the prince only offered his arm, and with some level of hesitancy, she took it before bidding the rider goodbye. 

The walk was strange, a heavy, thick silence surrounded them as she held onto his arm, his pace was much slower as they walked, and the sound of their steps upon the marble carried throughout the halls. She looked around, as if for an enemy that was hiding in the dark edges of grand arches and around each corner. And whenever she thought she found one she’d press herself just that much closer to him. “Did you have a safe journey?” He asked. “Yes, I am afraid it was very tiring, I doubt I'll be much company at all,” she replied. 

“I won’t keep you long.” he promised, catching the thought that flashed across the other’s face. She pressed her lips together before she turned away from him. “Have you been well?” She asked, watching him from the corners of her eyes as if waiting for him to strike.

His eyes dropped to the floor before he nodded. “Yes, thank you.” at this, she twitched, finally turning to look at him properly as they walked. A specimen once more. Maybe she caught the edge in his tone, or the response came half a second too late. He wasn’t sure what caught her attention in his words, but it was caught nonetheless. She followed him as they walked through shortcuts and weaved through hidden parts before they made it to his room. Servants rushed about to set the table as the prince led her to the lounge. Verena looked exhausted as she sank into a chair, hardly able to keep her head from rolling. But she smiled, resting her head against her knuckles as he spoke. 

A fire crackled in front of them, the warmth trying hard to beat off the chill the storm had brought with it. Her knee bent, her foot tucked under her as she looked at him. She was cold, chilled from the rain and that chill lingered around her. “Welcome back,” he said once again. “Thank you, Your highness.” “Have you written to your people?” he asked. She gave him a strange look before she nodded. “Yes.” She replied slowly, her speech slurred slightly. His words didn’t matter, they drifted from her and hung between them like blossoms in a tree. 

But she watched him, still. Nodding as she slowly blinked, her frost reddened cheek pressed up from under her knuckles and just for a moment he wanted to reach and run his fingers against the rosy flush. A maid came into the lavish room, followed by a proud-looking old man, thin and stately. The physician bowed before smiling politely at the pair, awaiting what trouble roused him from his sleep.

"Make sure she has no lasting damage." The prince commanded. On his command, Verena was shown to the adjoining suite. The room had already been prepared for her, a neat folded pile of her clothes sat on the bed and a maid waited with a smile. She wasted no time at all to tend to Verena, ridding her of her rain-soaked dress and heavy boots. The maid, quiet and knowing helped her into a robe before the physician entered.

He urged her to sit before he looked her over. He applied balm on her wounds and gave her a satchel of herbs, with it, he told the maid how to prepare the tea and that the lady must drink it three times a day. He was polite and quick, turning around as she fixed herself up.  

He left, lingering outside her door as he recounted the information to the prince. His words leaked through the doors as the silent maid dressed her for bed.

By the time she came out, the table had been set with an overabundance of everything. Tai, who had been sitting before, rose to his feet before pulling out a chair for her. She looked at him for a while before she sat. She watched as he moved around, placing things on her plate before pouring her a drink and finally sitting himself. The odd uneasy air did not dissipate as they ate, it lingered. She took a sip of the wine, glancing at it deeply as ripples cut through the dark liquid.  "Is it not to your liking?" He asked. "No, it's rather different, I was wondering what fruits were used." she covered easily. He raised his brows at her before nodding. "It has blossoms from a very famous cherry tree." He informed. She nodded slowly, taking another sip before a frown tugged at her lips.

“Did you enjoy your time?” he asked before he took a sip of wine. Her eyes flickered from her food to look at him before she nodded. She ate with small bites and spoke calmly. She looked, truly like she couldn't stand on her own. He half expected her to fall asleep right there in her chair. But she carried on with the conversation. She glanced up at him as he ate, a tired plea curtained with each slow blink.

"Am I staying?" she asked as he chewed. He nodded, covering his mouth with a fine table napkin before he spoke. "It's necessary," he said. Verena pressed her lips together before she took another bite. "I see."

"It is nice to see you again." he said "Thank you, You look well." He narrowed his eyes at her as she took a bite. “Say it.” he urged with a small smile. She paused, a questioning expression crossing her features. "You want to say something, do it," he explained.

"I have nothing to say." She denied. His eyes shifted across her features as he ate. They took turns observing the other, both circling the other with each interaction. It was known, expected, and accepted. Of course, the dearest thing they kept to their hearts but they allowed the other to observe. It was an unspoken agreement outside of their working together; it said they could and should be known to each other.

It was this knowledge that made Verena's anger so very obvious. It was the way she pressed her lips and held her tongue, the way her eyes narrowed and as she ate she seemed to watch him as if he had set a trap. Her anger was as obvious as her longing for her home, maybe they fueled each other, but he wasn't quite sure. But it was to be sure that she was upset and wanted to leave.  

“Do they enjoy bathhouses as much in Esshai as we do here?”  He asked suddenly. She looked at him, a confused look striking across her features before she took a bite of her food, Humming softly as she watched him as if trying to find where under his clothes he had hidden the dagger. She chewed her food slowly as she blinked at him. “Bathhouses are fairly common, yes.” She said 

“It is common to bathe with your rival, as well. As a way to wash bad blood.” She adds. He raised his brows high before he asked “Does it work?” “It is likely the wine’s fault.” she admits, watching him with a tired smile. “We have many sayings, poems, and such on it.” She adds. Tiredness had loosened her lips.

He watched her eat, and every so often she’d look up from her plate and cut the piece she had already cut in half before she slowed down. “Then, let me fix my mistake.”  She giggled, an odd free sort of laugh before she realized, after some time, that the prince was not laughing with her. No, when she opened her eyes once more she found his expression serious and genuine, that telling expression that must’ve been a family trait as it said to all that you’d better listen to them. 

“Royalty do not often participate in this sort of activity.” she explained after her breathing calmed. He tilted his head to the side and arched a brow. “You could if you’re very close, but it is uncommon.” 

He nodded slowly, undeterred by her attempt as he cut off pieces of meat. It took, and placed it on the other’s plate. All of a moment for Verena to concede, a silent look of reproach as he took a bite. it took only him to fill her plate, and she relented. A small smile appeared on his lips as he continued his meal. “It will not wash the war from our hands.” she said “I know.” he replied “But it would be unfortunate if we were to dislike each other after all the time we must spend together, so it is best to solve issues quickly.” She watched him with that same strange look, as if he had been replaced and she was trying very hard to find the difference. 

She raised her cup to him and nodded. “Then, may the waters wash our anger, and the wine replace the blood we have drawn.” she said with an amused smile as if she was waiting for the moment he pulled away. It worked in his favor, to have to call upon a servant to have a bath drawn. By the way, her lips curled, it was obvious she thought she understood.

When the food was eaten and they had finished chatting, he showed her to the bath. Tall, painted ceilings and lavish furnishings, plants and pots, sofas, and a few ornate changing screens, they were heavy and edged with carved gold. The tub was large and deep, It wasn’t far off from a bathhouse used by nobles, and as a maid left a tray of wine on a lifted spot in the tiled tub before she left with a bow, closing the doors on her way. Verena glanced at the prince who looked rather resolved. “You can change behind the screen,” he said as she started to undress. She glanced at it sideways before she continued her task, watching as he made his way behind a screen.  They hardly spoke, the sounds of ruffling clothing and the thuds they made as they dropped. “Do you have a tradition like this here?” she asked.  “Not quite.” he admitted.  “Are you very uncomfortable?” She asks “You’re not the first woman I’ve ever seen.” He shot back. He could almost see the expression, but if she said anything, it was muffled. 

She didn’t wait for him to come from the screen before she stepped into the water, a loud, pleased sigh slipping from her lips as the warmed water enveloped her. By the time he had come out, a towel tied firmly on his hips, she was sitting with her arms outstretched and her head resting on the edge. She closed her eyes almost immediately, her travel-weary muscles relaxed at once. He hesitated for a moment, glancing at a fairly nasty bruise on her shoulder, it blackened her tanned skin and raised beneath it. When he joined her, she didn’t bother to open her eyes or dip deeper into the waters, she stayed as she was, covered only by the towering bubbles that grazed her chest, as with each sway of the waters, her cover lessened. 

She seemed to forget he was even there– that she was even angry with him in the first place as she rested her eyes, only when he moved did she open her eyes to catch him. A brief pause as her eyes lowered before they quickly snapped back to his eyes.  “Were you very busy?” She asked, “Not so.” He replied. She hummed.  

For a while, they just sat a safe distance from each other, letting the lightning fill the room briefly before the warm glow was returned by the fixtures that hung about the room. He glanced at her as she stared at the ceiling, following her gaze before he spoke up, soft and low as if he wanted to bring her close to make her hear. "It depicts King Alas' life as he fell in love." "The lover king," she muttered in response. He glanced to the side to look at her. "It was my favorite story." she explained, not moving from her spot. He smiled, "It's a pleasant one." He admitted. It was one you tell children, the king who had fallen so deeply that he had fought the world to make her his wife. Everyone knew them, their love and life. Parts of their letters are quoted more often than not. "Do you think you could do it?" she asked. "Maybe once," he said

"Lovers, what becomes your body if not food for trees? What becomes of your blood if not to dampen the trenches? Lovers, what becomes of your cries if your voice is not your own?" She recited softly, lamely. He nodded, realizing she wasn't looking at him to see his response he remained silent anyway. They sat and laid out as they told each other history and poems, hands waved in the air as tales were recounted, and laughter encased the room. He gave her a drink and took his own, and the more they drank the more tolerable the other became.

"You seemed offended that I didn't undress in front of you," he announced after the fair amount of wine had its effect on him. "Yes, It is a big part of this tradition, you show and are shown that the other hasn't brought any weapons,” she informed. He nodded slowly before he glanced at the wine. "What else do you do?" He asked. "This is enough," she said with a small smile. "Then tell me out of curiosity," he said. "You typically wash each other's hair." "Typically?" "Others choose something different," she said with a vague wave of her hand, laughing as he understood.

He nodded once, setting his glass down before reaching for a golden vase. "Sit up," he said. She rolled her head to look at his, her eyes dropping to the vase in his hands. She looked at him strangely but he only raised his brows. Relenting, she sat up, moving farther into the tub with him.

He brought up a pitcher, his free hand tilting her chin up before he moved to shield her face from the water. The surprisingly gentle movement made the other giggle as she looked up at him. "What?" "It's much more intimate when you do it this way." She says. He raised his brows high "How else do you do it?" he asked "I dunk my hair in." She said with a grin. He paused for a moment before pouring more water on her. She reached out in front of her, grabbing blindly until she felt his arm, she held him, her nails sinking into the muscles in his arm as she cackled, the bubbling sound as she tried not to inhale the water.

Once she had stopped coughing he had already poured out some shampoo into his hands, he messaged the shampoo into her hair, it lathered and foamed, and as it did she let out a hum. "Lavender." he nodded in response, watching as her shoulders slowly dropped once again. She leaned into him as he worked, closing her eyes and letting a small, pleased smile grace her lips. He doubted that she knew that she was even smiling, but he made no moves to let her know. He watched her expression shift and change, how her thick lashes twitched and fluttered every so often. His eyes dropped down to her lips, her lips pressed together as if she were trying to hold in a smile. She failed at the corners. They twitched and kept turning upwards no matter how she tried, but she tried.

"You are willing to do much for diplomacy." she muttered "You too." He replied after a beat. She laughed a bit “Is that a demand?” “An observation.” His hands dropped to his side and she opened her eyes. She laid back and stared at the high ceiling once again. She didn't expect him to return, his fingers combing out the long dark ribbons.

Her head pressed further into his fingers as he massaged it. “Why are you angry?” He asked. She muttered, her voice low and unintelligible. “I’m not mad.” she said clearer. He hummed softly, its skeptical rhythm made the other smile softly. He lowered her head into the water, rinsing out the lavender wash. From her spot, flat on her back she looked up at him, watching as his tiredness looked much more severe when the lightning hit, but when the room was once again only lit by the candles, he was tired no more. She would not admit it, not even for a moment but, there had always been something melancholic about the prince’s appearance, something haunting in a strangely beautiful way, like a flame catching on a painting, a flower as its dried, darkened petals fell to the table. Something fleeting and out of reach.

She wouldn’t admit it, but there was beauty in the empire. 

She caught his eye, his brow twitching as closed her eyes again. There was beauty. But she would refuse to see it. Block her ears to muffle his words and close her eyes to hide from his. What beauty is there in devastation? Some morbid beauty, draped in a cloth soaked in the blood of all that she loved. Despite the blood streaking down his body, drawing lines across him– there was beauty in the empire. There was devastation in the empire. 

And What beautiful carnage He was.

"Prince?" She called. He hummed. "You don't have a tradition like this, do you?" she asked. He paused for a moment. "No." he admitted. He watched for her reaction, anger, amusement... anything. But she had none at all. She remained still for a while before she parted her lips again. 

“I’m going to die here, aren’t I?” she asked suddenly, tilting her head back to look at him. She watched as he stilled his face, his whole body frozen as if he tried to come up with a lie. She liked to pick out his expressions, guess what they meant. With each twitch of his lips, every raised brow, every subtle movement his eyes made, he gave away the thoughts he held on his tongue, and with each one she decoded, she felt an odd sense of victory, pride at somehow coming closer to the heart of him. But as she watched the truth still behind his teeth, no victory was found. 

“Peace is a sacrifice,” he replied. “In time, you’ll find something you like here.” He added. She frowned deeply, swallowing a few times before she let out a sigh, her lips moved subtly as she whispered a silent prayer. Then, she nodded, closing her eyes for a moment as he returned to washing her hair. That moment was all she took, and with the breeze, it was gone. 

She rose from the water before she took the vase from him, her eyes glancing at the top of his head before he nodded. He tensed for a moment as he laid back into the water, but as he stared at the ceiling for a moment it was nice. Hesitantly her fingers combed through his hair. She didn’t know what she expected to see when she looked at him as close as she was now, but it wasn’t him. At this distance… he was real. The warmth from his body crept up against her, his naked chest moved as he breathed, he was real, and with one strike  she could kill them both. Kill her friends. Kill her home. 

The sounds of the world were muffled by the water, and as he listened to its song he let out a sigh. When he had to return, he did so reluctantly, rising from the water before he sank to accommodate her. She watched the water as it made its path before she reached for him. Ignoring the way he raised his brows at her before he glanced down at her, he was much less ashamed, he didn’t rush or even hide his eye’s slow movements down her frame before just as slowly his eyes returned to hers. As if he teased her with doing what she hadn’t the courage to. She was less hesitant this time as she brought him closer. 

“You never wrote,” she said. “The letter was lost for a while.” At this she glanced at him again, studying his eyes as she scrubbed his scalp. “Was he angry?” She asked. Tai’s eyes fell to her collarbone before, and with a lazy blink, he met her eyes again. 

He hid the truth once more with a twitch of his brow that reminded her of their positions. He wasn’t sure why he did, truthfully. Everyone knew. All it ever was, was a lesson, he knew. Everyone knew. Even before he was called to meet his father, a smile on his lips as he asked if his lover had written to him. Even before he told the prince she only spoke of him in the presence of the emperor. It was a taunt, a show of arms. All it ever was, was a threat to tell him not to be too eager.

Don’t be too wise, too involved. Don’t step on his toes or look like you wish ill on him. But by the gods, don’t you dare slouch, boy. 

Maybe he wanted to pretend to be better than he was in front of her.  Prove that he’s more. 

But the truth was simpler; A king cares for nothing but power. But He was not a king, nor the emperor. But He could hold nothing of his own, and should he acquire something for himself, it belonged to the prince not the man under the crown.

She looked at him once more, meeting his eyes as she continued to wash his hair. She gave no reply, and she didn’t bother apologizing, she just kept looking as if there was something to find beneath his skin. He swallowed, fixed to his spot as she worked. 

It was still, just the sound of the water being pushed around softly, not a creak or scratch at the door, somewhere the word had fallen away. She forced him to slouch, as she scrubbed his scalp. He stared at her, his eyes moving around her features as she worked. It wasn’t exactly hatred that tugged at the corners of her lips— though it was there, it lingered between her brows and hung from her teeth. — But it wasn’t exactly fondness — that was quicker, it flashed in her smile and left with a blick, it settled in her eyes, before looking away. —  more a strange sense of curiosity as if she watched some form of torture be inflicted. 

His eyes dropped to the bruise on her ribs that disappeared under the water, his fingers moving on their own to graze the skin. She tensed under his touch, letting out a sharp intake of breath as she cast him a warning look, but despite it, she remained, letting his fingers settle into the dips of her ribs. “Does it bother you?” he asked, his voice low. “When I lay on it.” she replied, matching his tone. His fingers traced around the dark edge.

 “One of the oils added helps with it.” He said, watching her reaction as his fingers moved. “Did you ask for it?” She asked softly. He nodded. There it was. Almost fondness, he watched as it spread into her smile and flitted across dark eyes before it was gone. His fingers slid across her wet skin and her eyes dropped to his lips. She was drawn to him, like an idiot to a flame, like seeing a storm and waiting to see what it brought, a morbid curiosity that begged to watch him take hold of a weapon, and draw blood so she might see what he does next. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the devil’s hunger, but with all his curiosities, he interested her. 

So she let him slip closer. She put up no fight when his lips finally met hers. She straightened, her hands still in his hair. Firm. Insistent. Urgent. He pulled her closer. She flinched, pushing towards him to avoid him touching the mark on her back. A muttered apology was breathed into her open mouth as she stretched to meet him. In that half a second there was an agreement, an understanding of sorts. A silent agreement to leave the troubles at the door. The storm continued outside, and with each flash of light, each crash of thunder the pair didn't bother to part. Heavy breathing and splashing waters cut through the stillness.

His hand slid down her back like a feather, fingertips not truly pressing against the sensitive skin. It urged her forward. Hate and attraction seemed to fight within the mage. One moment she was demanding, her grip on his hair almost painful, her teeth on his lips just a touch too harsh, and the next she held him with a look she wouldn't have let him see if she hadn't drank. But he didn't mind, his grip on her only grew firmer as they dove deeper.

The already warm room seemed to only get warmer as the prince took a step back, retracting his hand to feel the step behind him before he pulled her to sit with him, his hand knocking over a glass of wine as they settled against each other once more. She chased him without parting, pressing herself against him, as they stepped. 

The change didn't bother the pair, continuing as if nothing had changed, her knees bracketing his legs as she sat, pushing into him until he was leaning fully on his elbows. This action did not make the smug smile fall from his lips, somehow, it grew. She could feel it, as her hand encased his cheek, she felt it in the curve of it. She could feel it as his hand rested against her hip. She parted from him, just enough for their noses to still be touching, enough to still breathe the other's air. She found his eyes already opened, half-lidded and smug. 

His heart beat rapidly against her roaming hand. Her eyes flicked from watching her hand’s movements to watching his expression. Daring, encouraging, longing. She didn’t go lower than his naval. He watched her as she made her exploration as he made his own. His movements were less based in curiosity than they were based in affection. His fingers ghosting over her clavicle before they started to dip down. She strained to keep silent, her back tense as his fingers trailed lower.

He looked up at her, as his fingers circled her navel, she had stilled against him, her hand curled against his chest. Her brows furrowed and deep frown pulled at her lips, despite her efforts she was given away by the soft trembling as his fingers moved up again, and the way his name started to form on her lips. 

He opened his mouth to speak but whatever it was, was swallowed as she kissed him again. She wouldn't let it happen again, once the wine wore off and she had left this would never happen again. Each moment was a tick in the clock. One second closer for the moment to end. If asked, she'd leave this part out of the story of her time in the empire, she'd deny it.  

Because beauty was one thing... But Tai was another.

He parted if only to catch his breath for a moment. For a while, they stared at each other, trembling and flushed. She blinked at him, long lashes fluttering as she did. Her mouth fell open as she heaved. He watched as a multitude of micro-expressions tugged at her features. He could almost read her thoughts spiral before he rested his head against his shoulder, his eyes flicking up to the painted ceiling. "If you gave me time, I could." He promised before she could regret it. She looked up, before with a sigh she looked behind him at the spilled wine before he looked lazily and shrugged. She opened her lips again but closed it softly.

He watched as if he already knew the thoughts in her head. He sat up again, dipping his head down to place soft, open-mouth kisses against her shoulder. "It's late." She said as he smiled against the top of her breast. "You should sleep." He said. “You don’t seem angry anymore, You said some prefer other ways?" he asked. She paused for a moment, gathering her scattered thoughts to understand what he asked, and when she did, she laughed heartily. "Yes. No," she said as she stood up from him. The absence of the other’s warmth was immediately felt, marked by an odd stuttery movement and fingers grazing a toned leg. A strange, out of mind sensation as they reach for each other in small barely noticeable ways before they return and carried on. The hand dropped and the woman continued to walk up the steps beside the prince. 

He watched her with naked interest as he pointed to the towels. He gave her a wolfish grin from over his shoulder as she dried off. “Then they do not sound like rivals.” She laughed. “No, back home we say they are lovers who are the last to know they are in love.”  He raised his brows high before the sound of his laughter filled the room, it wasn’t overly boisterous or anything of that sort, it was a low, soft sound. Like the rain against the roof. “I should work to anger you more often.” He said “You needn’t change a thing, prince.” she replied quickly. 

He gave a knowing look before he laughed again. “Then, until next time.” he said, his back still turned to her while her wet steps crossed the path to the towels.

she limped slightly, favoring the uninjured leg much more than she had when they walked together. He realized that she was either too tired or found it to be useless to try and keep up the facade now. 

His eyes followed the path of her towel before he nodded. “Esshai was right, with this tradition.” “I’ll make sure to tell the king of your approval, then.” “oh, I’m sure you will.” 

“Verena?” He asked. “Yes?” “Consider me.” No response came. He doubted a verbal one would. 

He stayed where he was, with his back to the edge. as she dressed and left for bed. He listened to each sound, the rustle of her clothing and the soft words muttered under her breath, to the sounds of her footsteps and the closing of the door. He listened for the second door to close and waited for her voice to carry to where he was, but she made not a sound for the rest of the night.

[smileysuh]

devil's girl

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader I ft. Mingyu & Wonwoo

🔮 preview. “Three hundred years ago, one of your ancestors promised me a descendant as my prophesied betrothed. A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of heaven or hell. A witch who would be identified by the mark of the Devil, drawn through with three lines.”

tw/cw. foreplay, fingering, oral (f receiving), Cheol is low-key pussy obsessed, overstimulation, 5-inch long demon tongue, invisible demon bondage magic, the demon magic can also vibrate her clit a little, bdsm themes, slight choking, squirting, wet kink, massive cock cheol, pussy stretching, impreg/breeding/cum kink, dirty talk, service dom Cheol, consent is a must, begging, multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, hand job, dream/incubi threesome with Mingyu & Wonwoo, double fingering, degradation, dacryphilia, etc… I pet names: (hers) little/my sweet, pretty girl, good girl, whore/slut (1), baby, little love, etc. (his) sir, daddy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.2k

🍭 aus. king of hell!Cheol, witch descendant!y/n, prophesy, arranged marriage, yandere/possessive themes, slight kidnapping, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I feel like I need the men I write about every time, but when I tell you I need this man biblically, when I tell you I need him to kidnap me and make me the Queen of Hell and knock me up with demon hybrid babies asap-

Prologue:

It was not a fate that she would have ever wished upon any of her descendants, but there was a price to pay for power, a price to pay for life and a line continued. The old crone signed the contract, bound in blood, with the King of Hell, promising one of her own line as his future intended.

She could not foresee when the prophesied witch would be born, all she could promise The Dark King was that the descendant would bear the mark of the Devil. Somewhere in the world, there would be a girl born with a pentagram birthmark, run through with three lines, and that girl, would bear the task of giving children to the King of Hell himself.

The crone did this to solidify her line would survive the witch trials ravaging the country, the contract would ensure demonic protection from death- none of the King’s loyal followers would allow harm to fall upon any woman who could possibly birth the next Queen of Hell. 

As the trials continued, not one of the crone’s daughters were harmed. Years went by, with the crone checking every new grandaughter and great-granddaughter for marks. When it became clear that the prophesied girl would not be born in her time on Earth, she urged all her descendants to be fruitful and multiply, in the hopes that, with a large family line, the Demon King would have a harder time finding the contracted child.

Upon her death, the old crone’s family took her words to heart. Not only did the daughters multiply after the witch trials had ended, but they split. Some became nomadic, others found places to settle down and have whole swaths of children. Many of these descendants took upon new names, as women always took the last name of their husbands.

In this way, the old crone hoped to cheat the devil himself, and for a very long time, she was successful in her evasion of him.

one

“This better be important,” Seungcheol groans, shifting on his throne to assess the two low level demons in front of him. 

The incubi exchange looks, and finally one steps forward. “Sir, we found her.”

“You found her?” the King repeats. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“The witch,” the second demon says, fumbling as he also moves forward to address Seungcheol. “The one from the prophecy, with the mark.” 

The Demon King feels a twitch of something electric, it makes his finger tips jolt, and he begins to strum them along the dark marble arm of his throne. “What are your names?”

“I’m Wonwoo,” says the first incubi, “and this is Mingyu.”

“Well, Wonwoo, Mingyu, the two of you better not be wrong.” Seungcheol stands up. “Where is she?”

“We can give you the details, only…” Mingyu casts an anxious look toward Wonwoo, “we’re pretty sure she was wearing a high level demon ward.”

“What?” The word comes out as a growl, and in the lava fields of hell that stretch as far as the eye can see behind him, there’s a tremor that betrays the King’s rage.

“A demon ward,” Wonwoo repeats. “An heirloom. It’s a necklace. We tried to get her to take it off, but even while dreaming, she was pretty protective over it.”

Seungcheol can’t believe what he’s hearing. It’s been over three hundred years since he’d made a contract with the old crone. Three hundred years of waiting for the ability to sire a line with a witch who would be able to withstand the process. He’d almost given up the hope of ever finding his betrothed, only for two sinful incubi to find her in the dream state. The fact that she’s warded is the cherry on top of this whole fucking thing.

“That bitch,” Seungcheol groans. “The old crone has done everything in her power to make sure our contract would never be fulfilled, and she’s even left warding jewlery.” 

If the witch wasn’t in heaven, Seungcheol would pay a visit to her himself to enact his revenge for this final piece of treachery.

You do a service to save an entire line of witches, and this is how they intend to pay back your kindness. 

“It’s not the end though,” Wonwoo offers helpfully. “We just have to convince her to take the necklace off, that will break the ward, and you can summon yourself into her room as soon as it’s off.”

“If the two of you do this for me,” Seungcheol notes, “you will be rewarded.”

“We’re just happy we found her for you,” Mingyu says, voice shaky. “It’s been a very long time.”

Too long, in fact. 

two

You’re lost in a dreamy haze. Two pairs of lips are on your throat, one man pressed to your front, the other at your back. Hands caress your form, and nothing has felt this real. You’re moaning, eager for the fiery touches.

“We need you to do something for us,” the man in front of you whispers, licking past the shell of your ear and making you shiver.

“Anything,” you blurt out, already reaching for his cock.

A hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you meet the stern man’s gaze, you note the darkness in his eyes. 

“This is a pretty necklace,” he muses, as the person at your back nips at the chain that encircles your throat.

“It’s a-” you swallow back your lust, trying to form words, “an heirloom.”

“How badly do you want to be fucked, naughty girl?” 

“So bad,” you whimper, pressing your thighs together in the hope that you can quench some of your sexual appetite. 

“Then you need to promise us that when you wake up, you’ll take this pretty necklace off, only for a while.”

“Huh?” You’re confused, and the man behind you immediately brings his hand to your core, stroking you through your nightie. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you feel like they’ve asked you to do this before- but your memory is as fuzzy as the vision in front of you, and the men are more than distracting.

“You can do this for us, right?” he presses. “Please?”

“Why do you need me to take my necklace off?” you ask. It had been a parting gift from your mother before you were put up for adoption, and in her note, she’d warned you never to take it off. You can already feel yourself becoming restless at the turn of this dream, what had started so sweet and sexual has turned darker than you’d been ready for.

“It looks like it needs a little… TLC, don’t you think, baby?” One large finger slips into your core, and at the same time, the man in front of you tugs down your dress to access your breast, flicking at the nipple.

“Tell us you’ll do this,” murmurs the one with his mouth on your chest.

Your fingers tangle through his dark curls, keeping him on your breast while he begins to suck on your sensitive bud. It’s practically impossible to say no to them.

“Okay,” you whisper finally, voice shaky. “Just for a little.”

“There’s our good girl,” the one in front growls, adding a hand to his friend’s so he can slip his own finger into your dripping core. They both begin to work you open, and you can’t help the gasps of pleasure that begin to escape you, your grip flying to broad shoulders to keep yourself standing between the two large men.  “Now we all get our reward.”

three

You wake up feeling relaxed but needy. You remember ghosted touches as you head for a morning shower, washing your body and remembering strong hands trailing along the same path. 

As you do your usual skin routine, your necklace catches your eye in the bathroom mirror, and you’re reminded of the promise you’d made in your dream. Upon inspection, you do think the necklace could use a little refurbishment- you’ve been wearing the chain since childhood, where your commitment to never taking it off had been like life and death.

If you’d had a dream about removing it, if even for a little while, maybe that was your subconscious telling you it’s time to let go of the hold your mother has on you. After all, she gave you up- what do you owe her? What’s the point in still wearing this around?

With a sigh, you reach behind yourself, fiddling with the clasp. There have been a few times you’ve been required to take the necklace off, at hospitals, or the dentist, certain airports- it won’t kill you to remove it for a little while today.

You don’t think much of it as you set the heirloom onto your bathroom counter, in fact, you’re already planning out breakfast. You go to the kitchen, humming to yourself while you open the fridge to look at the contents inside. 

As you reach for the orange juice, the hairs on the back of your neck begin to raise, and you feel a powerful energy, as if you’re being watched.

“Goodmorning, sweet girl.” 

The sudden voice makes you jump, heart lurching into your throat as you whip around.

There’s a man standing in your kitchen. He’s dressed in all black, with a long silky jacket over top of dress pants and a matching charcoal shirt. His hair is dark too, and he has a smirk on his handsome face.

It only takes you a moment to assess ‘oh, he’s hot’ and one more to decide to throw your juice directly at him.

The man quickly lifts his hand, flicking two fingers. It’s as if the container of orange juice hits some invisible barrier, and it goes flying directly into your sink.

“Don’t be like that,” he tuts, clicking his tongue. “Is that any way to greet a man like me?”

“Who are you?” you ask, mouth going dry as you cower back against the fridge, feeling suddenly very naked in your tiny shorts and crop top. 

“An angel,” the man says simply, but the all black outfit is a dead give away that he’s lying.

“Yeah?” you let out a small laugh. “What’s your name then, mister Angel?”

He stares at you for a moment, something dark flashing over his features. When he smiles this time, you notice sharp canines. “Satan.” 

Your entire body runs cold. “I don’t…” You lick your lips. “I don’t see any devil horns, or a tail-”

“Would you like to see them?”

“No?” 

The man takes a step toward you. “You’re reacting better than I expected, Devil’s girl.”

“Devil’s girl?” you repeat, pressing your back tighter to the fridge in an effort to get away from him as he approaches closer and closer.

“That’s you,” he nods. “That’s what you are. It’s who you were destined to be.”

“I don’t know much about destiny-”

“Why would you?” he shrugs. “It’s been three hundred years since your family agreed to the dept they owe me. In that time, you witches have made it extra hard for me to keep track of all of you. I’m not surprised you don’t know anything about the prophecy, although, I will admit I’m a little disappointed you clearly haven’t stepped into your powers yet. Part of me had been hoping for a bit of a fight.”

“I can still fight you-” you insist, reaching out to grab a weapon from the knife block, brandishing it at the intruder.

He simply laughs, and with the flick of his fingers the knife goes flying out of your hand, landing in the sink next to the juice. “Silly little girl,” he grins. “Power reacts only to power, and though I can see you have power in your veins, it’s clear that no one has unlocked it for you. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get there.”

“Why would I want your help?” You cower back against the fridge, unable to move from where you’re standing. It feels like your feet are weighed down, and you wonder if this is another one of his magic tricks.

The devil puts his hand on the surface next to your head, blocking you into your fate. “Because, silly girl, at the moment, I’m your fiance, and soon, I’ll be your husband.”

“What?” The word comes out as a croak, your heart going a mile a minute in your chest.

“Three hundred years ago, one of your ancestors promised me a descendant as my prophesied betrothed. A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of Heaven or Hell. A witch who would be identified by the mark of the Devil, drawn through with three lines.” 

Realization washes over you. The mark on your ass- the peculiar birthmark, the mark you’ve always been insecure about-

“How…” you swallow thickly. “Why now? How did you find me?”

“I had help. Two incubi found you in your dreams. You were wearing an heirloom with a ward against me, but lucky for us, they convinced you to take off the silly little crone necklace. I couldn’t touch you while you had it on, couldn’t be in the same room as you, but now… I can be here with you, and…” he reaches out a hand, dragging a finger along your collarbone, “I can touch you.” 

“And if I say no to all of this?” you ask. “If I say no to marrying a man who’s literally Satan?”

“Then I’ll convince you,” the demon leans close, his hot breath ghosting over your throat. “I can be awfully convincing… also, if it makes you feel better, don’t call me Satan.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“Seungcheol.” There’s a softening in his tone when he says this new name, and as you stare at his handsome face, you realize that is suits him. “And what should I call you, my sweet?”

You whisper your name and Seungcheol repeats it. You can tell he’s enjoying the taste of it on his tongue, and as you share this close proximity with the man who claims you’re his betrothed, you realize your innate attraction to him, despite the circumstance. 

“So…” you lick your lips. “What now?”

“Now, little sweet, I take you back to my Kingdom.”

“You mean Hell.”

He grins, and you once again get a view of those sharp teeth. You wonder what they’ll feel like against your skin, and the thought has your body tingling with lust and shame. 

“What if I don’t go with you.”

“Like I said, I’m awfully convincing, but on this one, you don’t have a choice.” He lets out a sigh, playing with a strand of your hair. “There are many religions in this world, little sweet, and in many of them, the King of Hell gets his Persephone. Although, in this case, you have no Demeter to protect you. The witch who promised you to me is long since dead, and your family line got muddled and convoluted in the hopes that it would hide you from me. Unfortunately for them, I’m here to collect, and there’s no one in the world who can stop me.”

“But, I mean-” you search for any way to get out of this. “I have a job-”

“Yeah? Tell me about this job.” 

You can’t believe he’s humouring you, a slight appearance of interest appearing in his features. “I’m a full time baby sitter, an au pair,  the girls are expecting me-”

Seungcheol lets out a low growl from deep in his chest. “So you’re good with children.”

Your mind goes back to what he’d said not minutes ago: ‘A girl of her bloodline who would bear my hybrid offspring, children with the power of demons and witches, bodies unrestricted by the laws of Heaven or Hell.’

Of course the King of Hell has an impreg kink and is turned on by your job as a nanny. 

“I can’t go with you,” you insist.

His hand wraps around your throat, thumb teasing your jaw. “It’s not your choice.”

His eyes flare a fiery red colour, and it feels as if the air is sucked out of your lungs. Your hair ruffles, as if you’re in a wind tunnel, and a moment later, you’re no longer standing in your kitchen.

Seungcheol releases your neck, gesturing to the room you’re now in. “This is your new home,” he announces, giving you a moment to take in the black marble floors, scarce furniture, and large bed in the center of the space. There’s a floor to ceiling window that encompasses a whole wall, and through it, you see what can only be decribed as a literal Hellscape. 

You can’t help it, you approach the window, mind going blank as you stare out at the fire fields. 

Seungcheol is silent as he comes up behind you, pressing two hands to the windowed wall and blocking you in with your back to his chest. You can feel his breath along your throat. “Welcome to Hell, sweet thing. This is all yours now, although, I doubt I’ll let you leave this room too often, not until I know I can trust you.”

It’s funny to hear Satan talking about his ability to trust you- a girl who’s done her best to be good her whole life. 

Seungcheol’s lips brush by your ear. “Should we get started, then?”

“Started on what?”

“You know what.” He presses a shockingly soft kiss to your throat, nose nuzzling by your jaw.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’ll be honest with you, little one, I’m not a nice man. But… I’ll be good to you, if you’re good for me.” One of his hands slips down from the window to grab at your hip, tugging your back flush to his chest. “The way you were good for Mingyu and Wonwoo in your dreams last night.” 

The names mean nothing to you, as the men in your wet dream had never given them, although, they must be the incubi he was talking about earlier. The fact that Seungcheol knows about your sinful nightly escapades with two other demons has you feeling shy, your skin heating at his words.

“Even so, demons need consent to enter human bodies,” the King of Hell explains. “Which means, if you withdraw your consent, I’ll be forced to stop. Although… something tells me you’ll consent.”

His hand glides from your hip to your exposed abdomen, and he teases you on what path he’s going to take- up to your breasts, or down to your aching core.

“What…” you swallow back a moan, “What makes you so sure?”

“I can smell your arousal, sweet girl, and there are signs I can see too.” His hand smooths up to your breast, and he squeezes your sensitive flesh, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. “I think you’re well aware that I’m going to fuck you, in a way you’ve never even dreamed of being fucked before.”

Your breath catches, and you bite at your lower lip to stop a whimper from slipping out of you. Your back arches, pushing your chest more into his large palm.

Seungcheol grins against your throat. “I can see how much you want this, little sweet. Do you want to see how much I want you?”

He grinds his front against your ass, and you can feel his hard cock- fuck, he feels big. You shiver at the realization that your betrothed is packing, and Seungcheol laughs at your reaction.

“Tell me you want this,” he commands.

“I-” You bite your tongue.

His hand wraps around your throat, lips moving to your ear. “Tell me you want this.” 

“I want this,” you admit weakly. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol growls. His hand raises from you neck, fingers finding your jaw again. He prompts you to turn your head, meeting his gaze as he leans over your shoulder, looking down at you with a dark expression. 

You know what’s coming, and you can’t help yourself as he draws your lips to his own. Your eyes flutter shut, mind going blank as you enjoy the feeling of him. He’s warm, but you suppose you should expect that from the King of Hell. 

The kiss deepens all too quickly, and you find yourself turning in his embrace, grabbing at his broad shoulders to pull him even closer. 

Seungcheol lets out a growl when your breasts press against his chest, and he leans down, grabbing at the back of your thighs so he can lift you off the marble floor. He presses you back against the window, tongue tasting your own and dominating you as he kisses you like a man who’s waited a hundred years for this- or, strike that, a man who’s waited three hundred years. 

There’s a rage in the way he kisses you, rage in the fact that he was forced to wait so long, but behind the rage is something like desperation. His fingers dig into your thighs, his mouth unrelenting against your own.

You’re not sure how long the kiss lasts, but soon, he’s carrying you to the bed. He sets you onto the lavish mattress, tearing at your clothes until you’re naked before him. He towers over you, staring down at your body while you catch your breath.

“Beautiful,” he muses, reaching down to massage your breast, which sends sparks of delight through your entire form. “You were made for me. My sweet. My little queen. My lost witch.”

When he says it like this, something about it feels right. 

Something about him feels right, as if your soul has accepted him, even after such a short amount of time. 

Then, in the most shocking twist of events, the King of Hell himself gets onto his knees for you. “Come here, my sweet,” Seungcheol says softly, grabbing at your thighs to tug you down the silk sheets toward his face. “It’s time for me to have a taste.” 

He leans toward your core, taking in a lewd breath before letting it fan across your skin. Your core throbs at the proximity. Seungcheol grins at your reaction, tongue moving to prod his own fang- which is when you realize, his tongue is like his cock: monstrous. 

You suck in a choked gasp, eyes widening. You’d thought he was going easy on you by giving you his mouth first, come to find out his tongue alone is probably as large as most men’s cocks- this must be a Devil thing, but before you can think too hard about it, Seungcheol is licking your slit and your mind goes silent.

A whimper escapes you, your back arching, core pushing closer to his face. Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, his large hands finding your abdomen to pin you in place. “Stay still and take it, pretty girl,” he warns. “Or there will be… consequences.”

He licks at you again, flicking your clit with as skilled a tongue as you’ve ever had. Your pussy is already throbbing with need, and it takes everything inside of you not to buck toward his face again.

You can feel him watching you when you throw your head back, whimpering at the way he circles your clit. Then he drags his tongue down, dipping it into your wet heat. Your body tenses at the intrusion, mind short cirucuiting as inch after inch of tongue invades you, licking at your walls while Seungcheol groans at your taste.

Fuck- a five inch tongue is definitely a demon thing, but you can’t bring yourself to hate it as he begins to literally tongue fuck you stupid. 

Not only does Cheol have the largest tongue you’ve experienced, and a willingness to use it, he’s got an eagerness in the way he eats you out. It’s as if he’s trying to devour you, holding nothing back as he growls and groans his way through working you up to your orgasm. 

The feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach is hot and all consuming, your muscles tensing with effort as you get closer and closer to your peak.

“Fuck- Cheol-” you whimper, unable to hold it in any longer as your hips push toward his face, one of your hands moving down to grab at his hair-

It’s as if hot, invisible handcuffs wrap around your wrists, tugging them up and over your head, pinning you to the bed while you squirm with confusion and lust.

“What did I say about consequences if you didn’t behave yourself?” Seungcheol asks, pulling away from your core and licking his wet lips with that tongue of his.

“I-” you push at the invisible binds on your wrists. “I’m sorry- I was just so close-”

“So close that you lost your manners?” He taps his fingers along your abdomen. “That’s not very queenly of you, my sweet.”

“I’m sorry-” you say again, tears begin to form in your eyes as you feel your orgasm dissipating. “Please-”

“Please, what?”

“Your tongue- I was so close-”

“Do you really deserve it?”

“Yes!”

“You’ll be good for me?”

“Of course, I’ll be so good-”

“If you’re not good for me,” he warns, “you don’t get to cum, remember that.”

“Yes, okay, I understand-” you fight the urge to thrash in his embrace, and it feels like forever that he assesses you before finally bringing his face between your thighs again.

Just as his tongue is about to lap at your pussy, he stops. “Actually, I want to hear you beg for this. Beg for me to let you cum.”

You’re practically delirious, muscles still tight in preparation for your orgasm, and you’ll do anything he says right now. “Please, please, Sir- please let me cum!”

Seungcheol lets out a satisfied growl. “Sir, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll take that for now, but pretty soon, you’ll be calling me daddy.”

You whimper at his words, core dripping with spit and arousal. “Please-”

He buries his face in your pussy again, holding nothing back. His hands move down to your thighs, squeezing and adding a slight pain that has your entire body tingling. Gasps escape you, escalating in pitch as he drags you closer and closer to your orgasm again-

“Cumming,” you whisper, as the most intense orgasm of your life slams into you.

You do your best not to thrash around, but as Seungcheol obscenely tongue fucks you through your high, it’s the most you can do to stay as still as possible. You push up against the invisible binds on your wrists, gasping and whimpering-

“Fuck, my clit- it’s too sensitive-” you try to tell him, only for Seungcheol to focus more on the sensitive bud.

Your toes curl, a strangled sob escaping you at the stimulus. All you can do is lay there and take the pleasure he’s giving you- you’d thought he was being nice when he’d decided to eat you out, but you see now that maybe there was a bit of sadism in it. He’s clearly enjoying making you cum so hard that you’re beginning to cry, your muscles screaming at you from how tense you are-

“Please, please, please-” 

With one final flick at your clit that has you letting out a high pitched squeal, Seungcheol pulls away from your pussy. He blows hot air on your core and you twitch, thighs closing, body shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Look at you, crying and I haven’t even given you my cock yet,” Seungcheol muses, standing up and staring down at your body. 

He pulls off his shirt, and even through your tears, you take a good look at his chiseled form. 

Fuck, he’s even more gorgeous with his skin showing. His shoulders are broad, arms all beefy and strong- he’s an absolute unit, but you guess you shouldn’t have expected anything less from the King of Hell. 

Then he goes for his pants, pushing them down to reveal the largest cock you’ve ever seen in person.

Your mouth begins to water, fuzzy mind trying to figure out just how many inches this man is about to bury into your wet, twitching pussy.

“Think you can take it, pretty girl?” he asks, wrapping a hand around the base and pumping his hard length.

“Something tells me you’ll make it fit,” you whisper, your core throbbing at the idea.

Seungcheol grins. “We just met, and you already know me so well. Guess that’s part of the whole destined to be together thing. Makes shit easier.”

Instead of getting on top of you, Seungcheol tugs you closer to the foot of the mattress, then, with one twitch of his fingers, the entire bed raises, positioning you exactly where he needs you to be in order for him to fuck you while standing up.

He grabs at your breast, teasing your nipple while you mewl. Your own hand reaches out for his cock, and he allows you to grab him. You wipe your thumb across the angry red tip, smearing precum along his shaft to add lubrication, making it easier to pump his cock slowly while he continues to tease your nipples. 

His hand begins to decend, and he teases two fingers along your pussy lips. “I guess I can be nice and stretch you out,” he sighs, slipping the digits into your core. 

It’s a kindness you’re not sure you expected from him, and it prompts you to squeeze his cock tighter in your palm while he begins to finger fuck you open, scissoring his digits and testing your inner walls. 

“I can’t fucking wait to ruin your perfect little pussy,” Seungcheol groans, fucking you even harder. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking well, gonna be a good girl and squeeze my cock even better.”

“Yes, Sir,” you whimper, abdominal muscles tensing as he begins to stroke your gspot. 

“Should I give you one more before I give you my cock?” Seungcheol asks, thumb finding your clit and making you cry out. “You’re already wet, baby, but I want you dripping when I finally fuck you stupid.”

You pump is cock faster as he pistons his fingers into your gspot, his thumb unrelenting on your sensitive bud. He works you up to another orgasm with deadly precision, your entire body tensing with pleasure before falling over the edge.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol growls, fingers fucking you through your high. “That’s a good girl, squirting all over my fucking hand-”

No man has ever made you squirt before, and the feeling is intense. You’re gasping, crying from how good it feels, like an overwhelming sense of relief washing over you, a warmth spreading out from your core.

The sound of your squirt is obscene too, gushy, spongy noises filling the room with each pump of Seungcheol’s fingers.

“Sir,” you whimper, “need your cock-”

“Yeah? Is my good girl finally ready to please her King?”

You can only nod, letting go of his cock in favor of grabbing the sheets, needing an anchor for what’s about to come next.

“You know what this means, right?” Seungcheol asks, teasing his tip along your wet pussy lips. “You know I’m going to cum so fucking deep inside of you that you’re going to be dripping for days.”

You nod again, whimpering at the idea.

“You want to be bred though, don’t you, pretty girl? You’re practically begging for it now. What happened to the girl who threw juice at me this morning? All it took was a little cock and you’re dick whipped for you King.”

“All it took was a big cock,” you correct him, skin flushing at the words that have just slipped out of him.

Seungcheol laughs, his canines sparkling in the low light of the room. “Biggest cock you’ve ever had,” he agrees. “Biggest cock you ever will have. After this, you’re mine. Completely. Body and soul.” 

In past relationships, you’ve toyed with the idea of forever. It’s been a thought that strikes fear in your heart, but for some reason, looking up at the King of Hell, forever doesn’t scare you anymore.

Something tells you he’s going to take care of you, in a way no one ever has.

It’s clear he’s very protective over you. He believes in soulmates, in destiny, in prophecy- you’re his perfect match, and he’s fully bought into that idea… maybe you’ll buy into it someday too.

“I’m yours,” you agree finally, staring up at the beautiful devil.

He bends over you, pressing his lips to your own. With one hand, he cups your cheek, keeping you close, and with the other, he guides his cock to your pussy again, slowly pushing in.

You gasp against his mouth at the immediate stretch of his cockhead in your tight core, your hands flying to his shoulders.

“I know,” he coos, “I know, but it will feel good in a second, I promise.”

You’re happy he made you squirt, because the wetness coating your pussy makes it easy for him to slowly slide inch after inch into your core. He thrusts shallowly, and the movement helps your body become adjusted to his massive size.

You’re shocked at how big he is- it was one thing to see it, and another thing entirely to feel him- to feel the vein running along the underside of his cock while it drags against your sensitive walls.

Seungcheol’s mouth is hot against your own, his tongue seemingly back to a normal size as he licks at your lips. You think he must be trying to distract you from the intense feeling of being stretched out on his cock, and it’s another kindness you’d never expected from him.

When he’s fully sheathed in your core, you both let out groans of pleasure. 

The King of Hell straightens again, looking down at you while his hands graze your form. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod, licking your lips. “Yes, please.”

He grabs your hips, holding you steady so he can begin to rut into you.

Your view of him is insane. How is his body so perfect? He’s chiseled in the best of ways, his chest looks downright biteable, his biceps bulging as he holds you down, his abdominal muscles clenching with each thrust-

You’re absolutely delirious for him, your own hands finding your chest to tease your nipples.

Seungcheol’s gaze shifts to where you’re touching yourself, and a smirk appears on his face. “Fuck, baby, that good, huh?”

You can only nod and let out a needy mewling sound, pinching at your nipples and making your back arch while he rails your pussy.

Each drag of his cock along your sensitive inner walls has you seeing stars, and when his hand flattens over your abdomen, you nearly loose it.

“This is how deep I am,” he tells you. “Bet having-” he groans, “Bet having your guts rearranged by the King of Hell wasn’t on your bingo card this year, was it, little love?”

“No, sir,” you shake your head, whimpering at the feeling of pressure on your stomach from his hand. God- why does this feel so good? You can feel him everywhere, he’s all consuming, and that familiar feeling of an oncoming orgasm is building yet again.

“I can feel you tensing up,” Seungcheol notes with a laugh, his thumb moving down to find your clit. “Gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mewl, the title feeling more than natural on your lips.

Seungcheol’s grip on your hip tightens at the word, his thumb applying more pressure to your clit while he fucks you even harder, impaling you on his massive cock with each rough thrust.

“Beg for daddy to let you cum.”

“Please- please, daddy, fuck- I wanna cum so bad, wanna make you feel good-”

“I’m not cumming with you, not yet,” he warns. “As much as I love this position, there’s only one way I want you when I’m filling you with my seed, and that’s on your hands and knees, face buried in the pillows, crying like my good little whore.”

His words have your pussy fluttering around his cock, and it makes his grin widen.

“You like that, huh? Like the idea of being my perfect little cock slut?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Made for me,” he grunts, pinching your clit and making you cry out. “You were fucking made for me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me you deserve it.”

You can’t even fight the command, your body short circuiting, muscles clenching as you follow through with what he wants. Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s large cock.

He doesn’t stop, he only fucks you harder as you squeal and thrash against the bed- when you reach out to grab his arms, the invisible binds appear again, pinning your hands above you.

Seungcheol laughs, but there’s a groan in the sound too, and you know you’re probably squeezing him like a fucking vice. 

“Good girl,” he growls, and it only makes your pussy flutter harder.

The squelching sound returns, and you can’t even find it within yourself to be shy about the way your body is reacting to him, you’re too overwhelmed by the euphoria surging through your being to think cohesively.

“You’re crying again,” Seungcheol notes. “How cute.” His pace slows, and suddenly he’s grabbing at your jaw, hauling you into a sitting position, your face just inches from his own. 

His eyes are dark as he looks at you, then his long tongue is lolling out of his mouth, licking away your tears while you struggle and shiver, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you think you might faint.

“Tell me you’re ready for me to breed you,” Seungcheol growls.

“I’m ready for you to breed me,” you say meekly, core throbbing again at the idea.

The King of Hell presses his lips against your own, kissing your breath away while you claw at his shoulders. Then, as suddenly as he’d kissed you, he pulls away, cock slipping from your core and making you whine. 

“Onto all fours,” he instructs.

The bed slowly lowers to an acceptable height while you fumble on shaky legs to get into doggy position. 

“That’s my good girl,” Seungcheol praises you, the bed dipping as he joins you on his knees behind you. His large hands find your body, skimming along your sides.

Then he grabs the back of your neck, shoving your face down into the mattress. 

“Part of me wants to thank you for making this so easy,” he says. “But another part of me thinks you should be the one thanking me for giving you the opportunity to carry the children of the King of Hell.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.

Seungcheol scoffs. “You can thank me when my cum is dripping out of your used hole and you’re still begging for more.”

He slams his cock back into you, and a cry escapes your lips. God, in this position, he feels even deeper- if that’s possible.

Your toes curl at the sensation, and with every rough thrust, his balls clap against your clit, making you dizzy with pleasure.

His grip on the back of your neck increases, skilled fingers finding the arteries that flow to your brain- soon, you’re not only dizzy with pleasure, but dizzy from air being restricted too. It’s a beautiful, tingling feeling, and it has you clawing at the bed, arching your back as you moan like a desperate whore for him. 

You feel something on your clit, but both of Seungcheol’s hands are still occupied, one on your hip, one on your neck-

That’s when you realize that whatever invisible magic grip he’d used to pin you to the bed, he can use to pleasure you too-

Now, you truly feel him everywhere. 

“Fuck, fuck-” you struggle against the mattress, another orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it, take it.” 

“Are you close?” you ask, and from the silence that you’re met with, you’re pretty sure you’ve caught him off guard. “Please tell me you’re close- I want to be full so bad, want you to breed me, Cheol- please-”

He sucks in a shaky breath, gripping your hip so hard that you’re pretty sure you’re going to bruise. His hand moves away from your neck in favour of grabbing both sides of your waist. He roughly pulls your ass back to meet each hard thrust.

“Keep begging.” 

“Please, daddy, please- fuck, this is what you wanted me for, right? This is what I owe you? Then give it to me- give me everything, breed me-”

“Cum for me first,” Seungcheol commands. “Cum on my cock so I know you deserve it.”

The magic on your clit suddenly feels like a harsh vibration, and it’s enough to tip you over the edge. You grab at the bed sheets, letting out a primal sound of pleasure as your core clamps down on Seungcheol’s length for a second time.

He lets out his own groan, and a moment later you feel his cum shooting deep inside of you, filling you up in ways you never even imagined possible.

He fucks you through your highs, his grip unwavering on your hips. It feels amazing to be used like this, to feel rope upon rope of Seungcheol’s seed invading you and coating your walls.

And the sounds he’s making- rough grunts and groans- you’ve never heard anything like it. You’ve never been this head over heals for someone before, and the notion shocks you.

Maybe you really were meant for each other- it’s hard to say what’s real as you sacrifice yourself to be his little cum dump, taking every last drop until he stills behind you, cock still buried to the hilt.

He’s breathing heavily, his gasps teasing your back. 

Neither of you say anything for a solid minute.

One of his hands leaves your hip, trailing along your spine. “Good girl.” 

You can only whimper in response. 

“I will admit, I’m still disappointed you’re not adept in the art of witchcraft, although, that’s hardly your own fault.” What a topic change. “I’ll find you someone to teach you, you’ll have lots of time to devote to the craft.”

His palm flattens against the small of your back, and he wordlessly prompts you to flatten onto your belly, pressing his own large chest against you like a blanket. His lips find your throat, and he peppers your skin in kisses. 

“Your days will be spent learning how to be a Queen, and your nights will be spent like this, with me.” His nose nuzzles by your cheek. “And tomorrow, I’ll make you my bride, officially.”

“Tomorrow?” you squeak. “Isn’t that a little… too soon?”

“I’ve waited three hundred years for you, little love. At this point, there’s no such thing as too soon.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview.  “Trust me, little love, I haven’t cum in you for months, pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to help myself even if I tried.” With a grin, you allow Seungcheol to cup his fingers around the nape of your neck, dragging your lips to his. He kisses you as eagerly as he had the very first time, pushing you backward with his large form until you bump against the window. “I’ve got an idea,” your husband tells you, his mouth moving to your throat. “I wanna fuck you against this, want you to look at your kingdom while I pump our second heir deep into your perfect little pussy.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, impreg kink, cum kink, oral (f recieving), fingering, demon magic as a vibrator, fucking against a window, fucking while wearing a dress, quickie, biting/marking/blood licking, breast play, dirty talk, praise, begging,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby, little love, little sweet, etc… (his) daddy, sir. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!reader

bonus

Hell is no place to raise a child, and it’s not a place that is easily accessible to witches either- which is why, soon into your pregnancy, Seungcheol made it his mission to find you a safe haven on Earth that you could call home.

Nestled in a small valley, far from any towns or cities, Seungcheol crafted you a home. It’s a cottage, very different from the Hell palace you’d become accustomed to.

Your days are spent basking in the sunshine with your tutor, a witch of a strong family blood line who had long been acquainted with the King of Hell. Your teacher, a woman named Faeble, also acted as your midwife, ensuring your birth with your first child was as seamless as possible, with the aid of magic of course.

She tends to the wards, teaching you about the ways of the witches, and helps you raise your son- she’s become like the mother you never got to have, and your days are peaceful. 

In the evenings, Seungcheol appears, whisking you and your son away to the safety of Hell. It’s a simple little life you’ve made for yourself, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

☀️to read the full 2.7k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

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[livwritessometimes]

Hello! I love your uni series and I'm so excited to see who's next! Could I request an Alex Albon smau with a baker reader?

: Alex Albon x Baker!Reader

: Main Masterlist

: Author’s Note - omgg tysmm 💕 Hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

…

liked by alex_albon and 72,393 others

Yourname: Nothing here to see…just a baker rolling through life one dough at a time 🤭

view all 56,921 comments

User56: Noooo queen you’ve been spending way to much time with Alex 😭😭😭😭😭 Your captions have taken a hit 😔

User02: I thought Y/n dating Alex would save us from his corny one lines but I was WRONG!! HE MADE HER JUST LIKE HIM 😩😩😩😩

alex_albon: I CAN SEE ALL YOUR CAPTIONS 😡🔪

-> User66: Oh no we’re so scared 😱

-> User51: Absolutely terrified

-> User09: Deleting this app as we speak! So scared 😦

-> alex_albon: 🤡 You guys are the worst 👎🏻👎🏻

liked by patrickh_coach and 219,627 others

👤: patrickh_coach

alex_albon: Winter break? Never heard of her 🤷🏻‍♂️ 2025 Season, here I come 💨

view all 179,728 comments

patrickh_coach: Keep up with this routine and we’ll be unstoppable 💪🏻 And don’t forget about your meal plan 🍽️

-> alex_albon: 🫡🫡🫡

User51: I-Wow! COVER YOURSELF UP YOU WHORE 🫵🏻

User42: You thought you could show your knees and GET AWAY WITH IT????? That’s IT! YOU’RE GROUNDED!

Yourname: My man! my man! my man! 🤤

-> User23: Queen I get the appeal! I swear I do but please pull yourself together 🙏🏻

-> User49: Another one bites to dust 😞

alex_albon: Why can’t you guys be normal for once? JUST ONCE ☝🏻 THAT’S ALL I’M ASKING 🙏🏻

liked by alex_albon and 92,013 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: The best part about winter break is having him all to myself 😈….Might not even give him back 🤭

view all 77,258 comments

User01: @/alex_albon how does it feel to be god’s favourite????

User32: LOVE LOVE LOVE 💕

alex_albon: oh 😳! I see…umm and what do you plan on doing 👀?

-> Yourname: Come back home and you’ll find out 😏

-> alex_albon: 🏃🏻

-> User42: why must I be punished like this??????

Williamsracing: Phew 😮‍💨 thank god! No take backs 🙅🏻‍♂️ He’s all yours now!!! Enjoy 😘

-> Yourname: WAIT NO I WAS JUST KIDDING!!! PLEASE TAKE HIM 🙏🏻

-> alex_albon: I- WOW! MY TEAM AND MY GIRLFRIEND! WOW

-> User52: @/Williamsracing @/Yourname I love you guys 😭😭🫂🫂🫂

liked by Yourname and 104,927 others

👤: Yourname

alex_albon: You know what they say…The way to a women’s heart is through her stomach 😋

view all 98,161 comments

Yourname: 🙈🙈🙈🙈

User07: @/Yourname hand to your heart ✋🏻 tell us, how many times did Alex almost burn the kitchen down????

-> Yourname: Whattt??? No! He actually has become really good at baking. Honestly you’d be shocked at how good he- 7 times and he also dropped the jar of jam, so we had to go and get a new one 😇

-> alex_albon: I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW THIS WAS COMING

-> Yourname: Good for you ig 🫶🏻🫶🏻

User55: I love these 2 so much!!!!!! Please never change you guys 🙏🏻

User03: Umm *gulp* I- *stutters* nice *wipes sweat* nice arms *cardiac arrest*

*liked by Yourname*

User21: hmm so much sweet 🤔 isn’t he supposed to be on a strict diet or something???

-> alex_albon: shhh 🤫 Don’t tell my trainer about this or else 🔪

liked by alex_albon and 99,738 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: I could watch him eat all day ☺️ Can’t believe he’ll be half way across the country soon!!! Stay like this forever my hungry boy 💘

view all 90,193 comments

User48: SO CUTE!!!!! 😩😩😩😩

alex_albon: omggg are you like obsessed with me or something???

-> Yourname: It’s okay you can go! I don’t mind anymore. Bye 👋🏻

-> alex_albon: I’m only kidding babe 😝

-> alex_albon: Y/n OPEN THE DOOR PLEASE 😫😫😫

User20: Good Food = Happy Alex

*liked by alex_albon*

patrickh_coach: It’s nice to see you’re eating healthy! I hope you’re following the meal plan as well, right Alex?

-> alex_albon: You know it 😅

-> User93: @/patrickh_coach you should see the post Alex had uploaded a couple of days ago

-> alex_albon: I SAID 🤫🤫🔪🔪🔪

User76: Not Alex fighting for his life, trying to hide the fact that he did not in fact follow his meal plan 😭😭😭😭

-> alex_albon: I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♂️ what your talking about 🗣️

-> User88: @/Yourname Queen 👸🏻 please drop the receipts 🧾

-> alex_albon: Y/n NO 😰😰

-> User32: Y/n YES

-> User11: Y/n YES

-> User02: Y/n YES

-> User78: Y/n YES

-> User50: Y/n YES

-> User64: Y/n YES

liked by alex_albon and 108,972 others

👤: alex_albon

Yourname: TADA!!! Since, so many of you wanted to see the results of Alex’s cooking 🧑🏻‍🍳 BTW, it was very tasty, and Alex & I enjoyed it a lot 🤤

view all 90,193 comments

alex_albon: YES, I ATE ALL OF THIS! I WILL NOT BE SHAMED FOR MY CHOICES! I DEVOURED THE ENTIRE SECOND BATCH OF CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES AND ON TOP OF THAT, I ALSO HAD TON OF CHOCOLATE CAKE! THERE I SAID IT AND I’M NOT AFRAID TO SAY IT AGAIN!!!

User32: Umm….I think we broke Alex????

User09: @/Yourname Is it okay???

-> Yourname: I- honestly have no idea. He threw his phone on the sofa and is now rocking himself back and forth muttering about how he’ll be fine 🙂 Please send help 🙏🏻

-> User68: Called 911! They’re on their way 🚨

-> Williamsracing: @/Yourname sending the pit crew for emotional support 🫂

patrickh_coach: Damn @/alex_albon didn’t know you could bake so well. Bring me a batch as well!!!

-> User53: @/alex_albon this the coach you were worried about???

-> alex_albon: @/patrickh_coach you got it!!!

-> patrickh_coach: Also, Alex hope you’re ready for a brutal workout session tomorrow 😊

…

[mntozakii]

pairings: jeno x reader

i miss baek hyunwoo and hong haein so much 😪 please enjoy this cheap copy of queen of tears but make it jeno

tags: breeding kink brr, dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, established relationship

note: not proofread yet so here goes nothing,,, lmk what u think !!

your grandfather owns the largest department store in the country, it comes with perks such as doing internship under your boyfriend’s department.

legal director jeno who rarely gets to see you in the office so he makes sure to send you home everyday, he waits in his car as he watches you cutely stomps to him. as soon as you get inside, you kicked off your heels and took off your coat before he starts driving.

“baby, can you believe mr. park made fun of me because i don’t know how to use a coffee machine?” oh, that must be the reason why you seem so upset, jeno softly caresses your thigh as he listens to your grumbles about your supervisor.

“there’s no way everyone in that office knows how to use one, right?” you turn around to your boyfriend, he can only chuckle hearing your question. his dearest girlfriend can be a little out of touch but jeno likes that you are always willing to listen and learn from him. in fact, you did your first ever grocery shopping with jeno. he was beyond baffled when he found out that you never do one, your family has people who keep the fridge restocked all the time.

“princess, most people know how to use a coffee machine.” jeno whispers softly before taking your hand and kisses your knuckle. he doesn’t blame you though since you practically get everything done by your maids.

“it’s okay baby, i will teach you” jeno squeezes your hand and continues to drive. you love that jeno always teach you things that you don’t know, he is always patient and kind with you.

it is friday and you always stay over at his place during the weekend. your family is not exactly happy with your decision to date him but they cannot do much, not when your grandfather defends your love life decision.

once jeno arrives home, he wastes no time to pull you closely to his body and showers you with kisses. his briefcase falls on the floor as he carries you to his room, he gently put you down before going tsk-tsk over your almost inappropriate office outfit. jeno just hates how the female staffs talk about you and how the male staffs gawk at your body like a predator.

“baby, you need to stop wearing short skirts to the office, the hr department wouldn’t like it” jeno mumbles as he takes off his tie before wrapping it around your neck like a collar, your heart beats in anticipation when jeno unbuttons your white blouse and removes each piece of clothing from your body then undresses himself.

jeno lets you to straddle him as he admires your beautiful face, he lets out a small laugh seeing the dainty diamond necklace. few months into the relationship, he remembers spending three months worth of salaries for your birthday gift as an attempt to impress you. although you seem to be happier with the really big jellycat bunny he gifted, the same bunny that is always on his bed whenever jeno fucks you into oblivion.

jeno fondles with your thighs as he lets you to take over, you play with his fresh undercut while you slowly grind your clit against his hardening cock. jeno smiles when he hears your breathy moans turns into a pathetic whine, you are going crazy with the constant poking from his tip against your sensitive bud.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you try to compose yourself, jeno hums when he notices you’re no longer rubbing yourself on him. before he says something, you quickly kiss him to shut him off. you know that he doesn’t like seeing you delay your orgasm, he loves watching you crumble. he will only delay your pleasure when he wants to punish you (which rarely happens).

“baby— ‘m too sensitive” you pout when he shakes his head in disapproval, jeno taps his fingers against your thigh as he counts to three.

“one”

“two”

you give a little whimper of protest before you start to rub yourself against him again, you heave out a sigh when your throbbing core glide on his veiny length. jeno looks down at the adorable sight of you trying to put his dick into your cunt, he playfully pinches your clit.

“let me do it for you, princess” jeno kisses your lips sweetly as he lines up his cock on your dripping pussy, he pulls you down to sit on him as his cock sinks inside of your hole.

“so fucking tight and warm” jeno mumbles as he feels your walls pulse around him, he rubs your clit in a circular motion and chuckles when you cries for more. your boyfriend holds you by your hips and thrusts up into your cunt as his thumb focuses on the tiny button of yours, your nails dig deeper into his shoulder as his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly. you try to push his hand away but he distracts you with a kiss,

“keep your hands off or i’ll tie them up” jeno warns before he gives a hard thrust into your dripping pussy, loud squelching noises fills the room as he keeps on fucking you. he flicks your clit again and again before giving a deep thrust into your poor pussy, he moans out when you let out a tiny squirt.

“fuck baby, does it feel that good, hmm?” jeno asks as he continues to fuck you in the same pace to reach his high, you can’t even reply to him and just nod lazily as he abuses your sensitive hole. jeno lets out a deep grunt as he shot warm ropes of semen inside of you, he pulls you to lay downside on the bed with him.

“you’d look so beautiful carrying my babies” jeno mumbles as he caresses your tummy, he just wants to breed you and make you a mommy. he pulls out to see his cum oozes out of your pussy, he groans before warming his cock inside of you again. it takes every strength of him to not start fucking you, he kisses the blade of your shoulder instead.

“should i get off the pills?” you playfully ask and laugh when he pinches your cheek. it is fun to tease jeno about his kink, he is so shameless about it.

“my baby— seriously, don’t play into my fantasy, it’s breaking my heart” jeno mumbles as he hugs you tightly. jeno knows that it’s still a long way before marriage, he also knows that your parents won’t approve it easily so he can’t get his hope up yet.

maybe someday, jeno gets to start a family with you.

[katiascraft]

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it 💌 thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.

[abusivelittlebunny]

omg would u ever write a full fic of ur arranged marriage au?/do u have any other thoughts on it i loveddd the comic

The new Queen of Spain

I will!!! I already have it planned out actually and ranted about it in the manic manner I do to some mutuals, it will be DELICIOUS and definitely my style which may not suit for some people but I ain't here to win a popularity contest.

For more thoughts on the arranged marriage au I'll be continuing below the cut, just hiding it in case you don't want to get spoiled!

Charles is 19 here, he's the oldest omega princess of Monaco. (I wanted him to be about the age that Carlos first met him at irl where he called him innocent looking)

His older brother, Lorenzo (28) is an alpha and the heir to the throne but he must surrender it after the war in which Spain conquered Monaco and made it into a vassal country. He would have been executed but Charles begged for mercy and offered himself to save both of his brothers.

His younger brother, Arthur (16), is also an omega and both him and Lorenzo are currently in captivity and are used as bargaining chips

Carlos is the alpha crown Prince and is 30, his current age simply because I find him more handsome and intimidating as well as disillusioned at this age which will be a key part in the story

His disillusionment mainly comes from having been set to marry the omega boy Princess of Holland, Max since he presented and the two of them did actually want to marry and had a sweet romance but the engagement was broken off by their fathers, the two kings, who were bickering so much it nearly started a war

Max was then married off to Christian Horner, who came from British nobility but with not enough power to take the throne for himself from his young wife

Daniel is also a Knight in the service of the dutch Royal family and is Max's not so secret alpha lover. He is hoping to marry Max one day but Max also has other alpha lovers and is less jaded.

Carlos doesn't forgive his father for ruining a marriage that could have been based on love and mutual respect but he is promised a bride even better than Max in Charles.

However Charles is already betrothed to Jules Bianchi and his father insists on keeping to that marriage.

As Carlos' father once again fails political negotiations which lead to another war where Monaco becomes a vassal country to Spain, the King of Monaco as well as Jules fall in battle.

Jules married Charles right before heading off to the war so their marriage, while based mainly on mutual love, was left unconsummated and Charles is now a young virgin widow who at first accepts his fate to become a nun in a monastery but upon Carlos Sr seeing the young princess, his fate is set to change

Sr lies to Carlos and says Charles has already been deflowered therefore unfit to be the wife of the future king and produce the next heirs to the throne. He instead deems it a better choice to marry Charles himself as a diplomatic way of asserting that he no longer wishes the war to potentially continue and establish alliance

Carlos is of course absolutely furious as he has been denied a bride he was set for for the second time. He has omega maids set to keep him company in secret in Lando and Oscar, but he would never be granted marriage to a simple servant despite his white lies to Lando keeping him hoping that one day they'd marry.

Lando is fully delulu, in love with Carlos since the first day they met, while Oscar sees things for what they are and he's the sort of sassy maid who has little patience for Carlos' promiscuous ways but he still feels a pull towards him. He's often the voice of reason Carlos needs to shut down to keep his pride

Fernando was a Spanish Knight and a close friend to Carlos Sr and through that connection he could arrange himself a very beneficial marriage to the omega son of the governor of Canada, Lance. Fernando is the one trying to reason with Carlos over the benefits of being spoiled on the options of political marriage with other gorgeous brides.

These brides include omega Princesses like George of Britain or Franco of Argentina, the omega son of the president of the US, Logan Sargent, or that of the governor of New Zealand, Liam Lawson, and let's not forget Charles' younger brother as well, Princess Arthur himself.

George is in love with the head of the British army, sir Lewis Hamilton but he is a divorced man with a still living ex wife in Nico, therefore his family won't allow him to request his marriage to the man. He also proves to be a prime bestie to Charles in these trying times, mainly because he despises princess Max and the enemy of my enemy logic stands. But that friendship may fracture once George starts to realise Carlos may be actually a good marital prospect...

Max is however a very chill rival to Charles in terms of their relationship to Carlos; Charles is at first scared of Carlos, he is a captive princess after all, he has no reason to fall for Carlos even if he is the most handsome alpha he has ever seen in his life. It is Max who reassures him that if he feels unsafe, he should go to Carlos because his heart is made of gold and he's the most trustworthy and kindhearted alpha he knows.

Charles both appreciates the advice but is also wary of the flame that clearly did not die out between Carlos and Max and his jealousy will only grow later down the line.

Talking of jealousy, Lando will be stirring shit with a wooden spoon because of the hatred he feels for Charles for stealing Carlos' attention away from him and it will be juicy.

The only non toxic couple here is once again Pierre and Yuki who are respectively a French alpha Duke and Charles' ally and a Japanese omega princess who is Max's ally. This doesn't mean they won't take part in the drama though.

Now, the fic will begin on the shitshow that is the wedding reception itself and rather than one mega fic I will be making multiple smaller ones set in this universe.

[rebelssvy]

holiday hero party ✧.*

kirishima x reader

⋆·˚ ༘ *

summary: you meet red riot at a party, a lot of flirting, some back story monologue. bakugo and kaminari come make fun of him. you save him.

i love thinking about flirty but also himbo-ish kiri.. he’s just trying his best ♡︎♡︎

every year the hero association would hold a party for the top hero’s in each country. this year it being held in france. in your country your country you were celebrated, thought of highly. you gained the name ‘queen’ by some of your fans. choosing to be humble, you would laugh off whenever your nickname came up.

so here you were, finishing up your look. wearing a dangerous long dress that paired your skin tone well. pairing it with lots of jewelry. you looked stunning.

arriving at the party, you recognized many people. it was going to be a long night.

it was an hour into the party, feeling utterly exhausted. saying far too many ‘hello’s and ‘thanks you’s for your own good.

some what overwhelmed you made your way over to the bar you stoped dead in your tracks when you ran into a solid wall. looking up you realized it wasn’t a wall but a man..

“oh my gosh i’m so sorry!” you blurted out stumbling backwards to create space.

“no worries pretty girl..” he said staring down at you, charming smile printed on his face. looking up you came to realize it was red riot. you read the events that happened to his class in highschool and always kept track of him since. recently you saw that he saved a pregnant woman from several bullets just by standing infront of her.

you stared at him not knowing what to say. starting to feel vulnerable under the weight of his eyes, you chose to stand tall. remembering who you were you gained some confidence in yourself.

“red riot..right?” you asked him tilting your head his way. you watched as he wore a shocked expression for a minute before a smile replaced his face once again.

“the queen knows of me? i must be blessed!” he laughed out. you cringed at his words. you didn’t like that he thought of you like that, let alone that he also knew who you were.

instantly picking up on your change in demeanor he saved your conversation, “oh you don’t like your little nick name?” he chuckled out, fixing his posture slightly.

“no no i don’t mind it, it’s just i see you as my equal… not like my fan..” you giggled, suddenly feeling very hot.

“let me buy you a drink.” he said before taking your hand and leading you to the bar. you gasped at how charming he was. you felt like you were running behind him as he lead you with large strides.

as you sat down at the bar with him, you took a moment to take him in. staring at his body that was clothed in an all black tux, black dress shoes. if you looked closely there was red accents all across him. very minimal.

he caught your attention with his words “i am a fan by the way.” he said while turning to face you. his confidence shook you slightly.

“is that right?” you questioned him further.

“i saw you on the news in highschool… when you saved that bridge from falling.. is it true you did that while walking home from school? if it is i admire you for being so strong seriously!” he commended you with flushed cheeks. his eyes telling the story that you lived.

you took a second to respond to him, sipping on the drink he payed for. “well yea i guess.. i was walking home from school and someone had a quirk awakening on the bridge. i heard the explosion before i saw one of the beams coming down. i just kinda thought that if i had the power to save them, that’s what i should do..” you realized you rambled to far on and then grew shy waiting for his response.

when you looked back at him you realized that he seriously wasn’t joking about admiring you.

“that’s so fucking cool.” he said before changing his focus to the drink infront of him. as he sipped it you watched his adam’s apple move in his throat. slowly your eyes wandered to all of him.

you decided to make a remark, hoping to see where you actually stood with him. “ok this is going to sounds crazy…” you started. “around the time that i gained some traction from my acts, i saw you on the news.. when your class had all those things happen. i’ve always kept an eye on you since…” you finished.

the look on his face was priceless, shock and disbelief that slowly morphed into curiosity. questioning you he said “you’ve been keeping track on me?”

“i would be lying if i said no.” your drink making its way into your system, surging some needed confidence and energy into you.

“must be my lucky night.” he paused before saying “prettiest girl in the room keeps tabs on me..” before he took his drink into his mouth, eyes never leaving you.

you gasped at his words, suddenly you felt light.

“are you flirting with me?” you asked him with a giggle.

“yes. i am.” he said comfortably, stating his truth. “or at least im trying. im not very good at it.” giggling with you.

“well whatever your doing i think its working” you said reaching for your drink once again. only to realize it was emptied out. frowning slightly at without realizing.

“here,” he signaled over the bartender and ordered you a second drink. also getting you a water. his charisma was overwhelming.

“thank you.” you mumbled out before sipping on your drink again.

the silence over took you once again. you realized how easy it was to talk to him. you really liked him being around you. almost too much, a concerning amount.

“what can i call you? if i can’t call you queen?” he said leaning over to you, you felt the tension change slightly.

“just call me y/n.” you stated.

“how about princess?” he asked softly, lowering himself to your ear. you couldn’t form words. stuttering to a reply, you said.

“you can call me whatever you want.” you said, weakly. soon after your response you started cringing at yourself. bringing yourself to a giggle yet again.

“i’m sorry i can’t take myself seriously!” you laughed out, he laughed with you. “what should i call you red riot?” you asked him.

“just call me ejirou.” he said leaning back in his chair, you noticed his legs fall apart slightly.

you jumped in place when a loud voice boomed behind you.

“kirishima my guy! holy shit no way.” you turned to find a yellow haired man paired with the more popular pro hero dynamight. they closed in on the two of you. making their way to stand behind the two of you. you turned in your chair.

you noticed kirishimas face, it was full of agony.

“this is fucking halarious” the explosive one said. you knew his name was bakugou. but to be honest you were too afraid to call him by his name.

“what’s so funny?” you asked the two standing next to you.

“kirishima here has had a crush on you since highschool. so it’s kinda hard to think your sitting here with him at a holiday party.” the yellow haired once laughed out.

kirishima flushed at their remarks. you noticed all of it. they were obviously close to eachother.

“the queen and red riot, a dream come true.” bakugou laughed out. taunting his friend.

“this is so embarrassing.” kirishima shrugged into his hands.

coming to his rescue you said “well.. funny enough as it is. ive been harboring a crush on red riot for a while.” you shrugged nonchalantly.

bakugou and yellow hairs face dropped into shock. kirishima along with them.

“i’m not trying to be rude but me and ejirou were just about to leave.” you stood up and grabbed his hand. urging him in silence to follow your lead.

“it was nice to meet you two.” you said calmly before dragging him away from the men and to the exit.

after a silent trip to the coat rack and out the door. you finally made your way outside. the cold air frosting over you.

“you really are my hero, princess.” he said from behind you, you turned to meet his eyes.

“it’s no problem. and i meant what i said so.” you watched the air get sucked out of his lungs. taking in his expression, he really was handsome.

“can i take you out sometime princess? like without my friends coming to embarrass me, just me and you.” he smiled softly, praying you would say yes.

years ago this was your dream. funny how things work out like this.

“yes i would like that a lot, ejirou.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

thinking about making a part two when you hard launch, maybe even starting a family. the worlds favorite hero family ♡︎♡︎

[rynbutt]

mansplaining. | spencer reid.

request: @a-second-hand-sorrow "hey queen, just wanted to say i absolutely love your spencer stuff, you write him so well!! as a fellow aussie I was wondering if maybe you could write something with spencer and an australian reader? just something cute and silly, maybe with him infodumping everything he knows about australia ahaha, love your work!"

you can find my other fics on my masterlist.

requests are open!

cw: fem!aus!reader, none really, fluffy, silly fr

a/n: short and sweet hehe

Henry held your hand tight as you guided him to the elevator.

JJ had just gotten back from a trip to Michigan for a case. She ended up sleeping for a couple hours before she had to go back into work again, all before little Henry woke up for the day. Since she hadn’t seen her son in almost three weeks, you thought it would be nice to bring Henry to her with some lunch as a surprise.

You had been JJ and Will’s nanny for almost 8 months now. Since Will had returned to work and JJ’s job was still incredibly demanding, they started looking for a nanny for their 3-year-old son. You just so happened to be looking for a job and to finally put your experience as a nursery assistant back home to good use. 

“You excited to see mummy?” You asked Henry as you stood in the elevator, his little FBI visitor badge far too big on his little body.

“Yeah!” He replied excitedly, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You had taken Henry to pick up some lunch at JJ’s favourite place then let Henry pick out a pastry for each of you to have for dessert.

“Alright, remember, you have to hold on tight to my hand, okay? There are lots of people around,” you reminded the young boy, crouching down to his level.

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded, his tiny hand squeezing yours.

The elevator dinged and you gently guided Henry toward the bullpen, silently searching for JJ’s office. Henry stayed close to you as you swerved through the busy agents. You decided to ask someone who you thought looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, Emily, right?” You gestured toward the dark haired woman sitting at her desk.

She glanced up at you, seeming to recognise you and little Henry almost instantly, “Oh hey! You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of JJ’s office-”

“Did you know the Australian mainland extends from west to east for nearly 2,500 miles?” someone behind you said, obviously hearing your Australian accent.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked at you, “don’t mind, Reid.”

You turned around to look at ‘Reid’, he was cute, probably the young doctor JJ told you about. You pointed at him, “Dr. Spencer Reid, right?”

He ignored you, “And most of the rocks forming the foundation of Australia are from the Precambrian and Paleozoic time… about 4.6 billion and 252 million years ago respectively,” he looked up at you, “yes, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

“I’ll go get JJ for you,” Emily sighed, frowning disapprovingly at Reid. You sat down next to Emily’s desk, picking up Henry to sit him in your lap.

“Where are you from?” Another man asked, “I’m Derek Morgan, you must be Henry’s nanny?”

“Yeah, I am… I’m from Melbourne,” you smiled.

Spencer interjected, “Melbourne isn’t said like that. The spelling negates that.”

“Kid… she’s from there, I think she knows how it’s said,” Morgan retorted. 

You just chuckled softly, “I’d love to hear you mansplain my country to me, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not mansplaining,” Spencer replied, seeming offended.

“You kind of are,” Morgan added, leaning back in his chair.

“Mansplaining!” Henry exclaimed, making both you and Morgan laugh. Henry bolted from your lap the moment he saw his mum. You stood up to greet JJ as little Henry tackled her in a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” JJ asked, cuddling Henry close to her.

“We thought we would surprise you for lunch,” you smiled, “Henry picked some pastries out for us too, for dessert… I hope it’s okay?”

“No, it’s perfect,” JJ replied, “it’s just what I needed honestly,” she sighed, giving you a side hug as she guided you to her office.

Henry sat on the floor playing with a few toys you brought along for him while you and JJ talked, “so, that Dr. Reid? He’s a character.”

“You met him, huh?” she leans back in her chair with a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you replied, “he seems…” you trailed off.

JJ nodded knowingly, “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“He’s cute though,” you shrugged with a small laugh.

“Mm, I’ll make sure to tell him that,” JJ teased.

“Don’t you dare,” you retorted quickly. 

You spent the last half an hour of JJ’s break sitting with her and Henry on the floor helping him do a puzzle he had left from the last time he was here. It was nice for JJ to see her son, she missed him terribly but she knew he was in good hands with you.

JJ had to get back to work shortly after and she squeezed Henry in a tight hug, reminding you she might be late again tonight, which you didn’t mind. 

“Say ‘bye-bye’, mummy!” You held Henry’s hand, waving at JJ. 

“Bye-bye, mommy!” Henry called, waving his little hand around. 

You spun around, guiding Henry through the bullpen again before an idea popped into your head. You turned on your heel at the side of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey, Dr. Reid?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He peered up at you.

“Ever heard of drop bears?”

a/n: i hope you liked it! i know it was a short one but i think it's funny. another chapter of pierced coming soon >:)

[onegirlatelier]

April, 2024 | Shetland lace shawl

Hi there! It’s been a while. I’ve been kept busy by all my university work…and this shawl.

The shawl is knitted to celebrate the wedding of my friend (now friends, I should say). A wedding is really the perfect excuse for all the heritage crafts and heirloom projects that might seem too serious to gift in other occasions. I did ask the recipient beforehand if she would like it, though, and I was so, so honoured that I got an enthusiastic ‘yes’. I’m sure this sentiment is shared by many makers, whatever gift they are making.

Shetland fine openwork, a knitted lace, seems to have emerged with the beginning of the reign of Queen Victoria, who championed and popularised the craft. It was probably spread from the Isle of Unst to other parts of Shetland. What surprised me the most when I first read about it was that Shetland shawls and other lace pieces were largely exported as luxury items and rarely worn by islanders themselves. Women bought yarn from spinners and knitted mostly in their homes. They then took them to local merchants and exchange the finished objects for goods or (commonly after the 1880s) money to supplement the household income. The ‘supplement’ nature of this work probably means it was not compensated as much as a job outside the home would be for the same hours and skills. Besides, it was not always easy to spin an even 1-ply yarn at 1600 metres per 100 grams. For a piece of knitting with a large ‘plain’ area (i.e. only knit stitches), the unevenness was impossible to hide but could only be discovered after the area was worked. Then the maker had to either frog (unravel) the area or continue with the risk of the whole piece not being able to sell.

Whilst it is very reasonable to point out that Shetland ladies did not usually wear this type of lace (I’ve been to the Scottish Highlands once, in summer, and it was not fine lace weather), I imagine that at least for some, it wasn’t just about making money. Some sort of fulfilment must have been from the satisfaction of having a piece ‘properly done’ by continuing and adapting a traditional pattern, technique or material. I think this sort of satisfaction is also why many modern knitters are willing to spend hundreds of hours on lacework.

Intricate handknitted lace items can still be bought today (a quick search on Etsy would show many are form eastern European countries with a long and prominent craft tradition), but many are knitted for friends or family members. It always makes me so happy to see people share the gifts they have made, whether big or small, simple or complex. I joke with my online craft friends that no handmade fibre project can claim to be so unless they have a hair or two woven into it. It is the proof of existence for the maker, who tries to go against the irregular nature of handicrafts and, at the same time, accepts it. It is about wrapping up hours, weeks or months in one’s life, along with the songs they have listened to and the perfume they have worn and the memories they have made, and putting it squarely in someone else’s hands and saying: ‘All this, for you.’

A Wedding Shawl

I have not read anything about there being a standard form of ‘wedding shawl’ in the Shetland tradition. However, there is definitely a category of square shawls with similar sizes and a few construction methods. The samples I’ve seen mostly measure 1.5-2m on one side and have three parts: a central panel, four borders and a strip of edging. It is worked flat in garter lace from centre out.

Neither is there a standardised yarn weight. A widely available yarn is the Shetland Supreme Lace Weight 1-ply by Jamieson and Smith, which weighs at 400m/25g. The Queen Ring Shawl examined by Sharon Miller used a yarn at 700m/25g. From my experience, if you want the shawl to be a true ring shawl (i.e. you want to be able to pull the shawl through a ring) at the size of the Queen Ring Shawl (210cm on the side), go for 700m/25g or finer.

I chose a rectangular shawl because I had very limited time, but I did enlarge it because for me, an abundance of fabric does mean an abundance of cozy happiness.

Pattern

Shell Grid and Spider Webs Puzzle, pattern No.19 in the book Shetland Knitting Lace by Toshiyuki Shimada.

The names of the motifs are confusing. One motif (or two highly similar motifs) might just have two different names if they are produced in two different regions. Names do not mean everything, but I’ve had fun trying to match the motifs with names according to this article by Carol Christiansen at the Shetland Museum.

The double yarnovers (YO's) in the diamonds were called Cat's Eye, but perhaps the 'Spider Web' in the pattern name is referring to the three rows of double YO's in the centre panel. It has a really simple but effective edging.

Yarn

Mermaid Lace, in colourway #naturel, sold by Great British Wool in the Netherlands. This yarn is 75% merino and 25% sea algae silk. ‘Sea algae silk’ seems to be a semi-synthetic plant fibre like viscose, with algae involved as part of the raw material. (At this price point I don’t think it has anything to do with sea silk, which is fibre produced by actual shells.) The brand name for the most popular product of its type is probably Seacell.

I bought the yarn, because I had never worked with this fibre before and was curious. What I like: it was a little cheaper than a wool/silk blend and has blocked very well. The whole skein was continuous so I didn’t have to deal with a single yarn joint. What I do not like: it lacks the sheen and smoothness of real silk and doesn’t feel as strong, although it doesn’t shed. In conclusion, I’d rather use a traditional Shetland 1-ply or another natural fibre yarn.

It's also worth mentioning that whilst I prefer to support small businesses, it was disappointing to have received a 93-gram skein when I had ordered 100 grams. It was one of those days between Christmas and the New Year and I somehow did not contact the customer service, but I really should have.

Needle

2.5mm 80cm circular needles. See modification below.

Modification

This Japanese knitting book follows Japanese sizing for knitting needles. The suggested size was no. 1=2.4mm. I figured that I could use a 2.5mm since I knitted on the tighter side, and in any case it was probably okay to make the lacework a little more open by going up a needle size.

I am not going to give out the pattern, but it is probably necessary to explain the structure of this shawl. The centre is knitted first, and then an edging is knitted onto it by picking up either live stitches or the vertical edge of the centre as you go (see schematic below). The four ‘corners’ of the edging have short-row shaping to help it lay flat. I know that traditionally people can achieve this by other methods, but I haven’t tried any of those yet.

I enlarged the pattern by increasing both the width and the length. I casted on 133 stitches instead of 101 for the centre panel and knitted Part B 8.5 times instead of 5.5. The spider web pattern in Part B requires the stitch count to be (something dividable by four) plus two, so I made one central increase before the spider web to get 134 and a central decrease after it to get it back to 133. Due to the openness of the lace, the change of one stitch is not visible.

The enlargement meant I had to recalculate the edging as well, because the number of stitches available for pick-up changed. Originally, at each corner you do two repeats with four short-row shaping each. I did 1.5 repeats following the original placement of short-row shaping in order to make the total number of repeats fit the number of edge stitches on the centre panel.

The pattern says to Kitchener-stitch the last row of the edging to the provisional cast-on. It just didn’t make sense because that would be two rows too much (the Kitchener stitch row plus the provisional cast-on row). To make the number perfectly fit, I knitted only ten rows of the last repeat (there were usually twelve in each repeat). Then I Kitchener-stitched the end to the provisional cast-on, following the lace pattern. I am quite proud of this solution because it is completely invisible.

Somewhere in the pattern it said to purl (looking from the right side). It seemed strange because the rest of the lace was entirely garter. I knitted those stitches and so far I haven’t sensed a ‘mistake’.

The pattern originally calls for 45 grams of yarn. I estimated (based on the increase of stitches in the centre panel) to need about 80 grams. I ended up using 86 grams. Besides the inaccuracies in my estimation, it was probably also because I knitted much more loosely than expected as it was difficult to tension the yarn tightly at such a weight. Like I've point out in the Yarn section above, I was lucky not to have needed more than 93 grams.

The original finished size is 53*118cm. I ended up with approximately 70*170cm.

Conclusion

This shawl took about three months of my craft time i.e. one full day every week for three months and many mornings before I had to leave for university. Knitting outside my room just didn’t work because I was a) engaged in some other activities that made it difficult to steady my hands, and b) worried about putting a white shawl on any public surface.

The pattern itself is relatively straightforward. The first difficulty was, of course, to understand the instruction written in Japanese. Google translate was horrible so I had to rely on my knitting experience. Fortunately, much of the text description was also found in graphs and charts. Then I had to get my hands used to the tiny yarn. After that, it was only fiddly when I did the edging, because I had to turn about every twelve stitches, and by that time I was handling a giant cloud of stitches on my lap. It did give me a lot of time to go over my favourite documentaries and films, and the last bit of edging was surprisingly quick!

Traditionally, Shetland shawls could be sent back to the maker for maintenance. I think it only fair for me to offer that too because I don’t want a gift to become a trouble (same as how you do not use non-machine-washable yarn for baby knits).

In general, I am very pleased with this shawl. It does pass the ring test, despite not being a traditional wedding shawl size or thickness. I do have a whole lot of actual Shetland 1-ply in my stash, so I am really looking forward to taking my Queen Ring Shawl project out of hibernation in the near future.

Reference list for Introduction

Christiansen, Carol. Shetland fine lace knitting: Recreating patterns from the past. Marlborough: Crowood, 2024.

Mann, Joanna. 'Knitting the Archive: Shetland Lace and Ecologies of Skilled Practice'. Cultural Geographies 25, no. 1 (January 28, 2017): 91–106. https://doi.org/10.1177/1474474016688911.

[tarotofhope]

PAC: 【What do your parents think about you & Why ?】

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

𖨆 Pile 1

Cards: Death, 3 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Strength, Queen of Wands, 4 of Cups, The World, 9 of Wands.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. There's a lot of heavy energy in this pile because there are two 8s in the cards. For some of the audience reading this pile, Either, both of your parents/one of your parents could have passed away when you were very young and you had to live with your relatives or in foster homes. For some of you, even if your parents were alive, they could've been so busy that they left you under the care of other people most of your childhood and teen age. For the remaining audience, I'm getting that even if both of your parents were alive and not so busy, they were very over-protective, over-bearing and strict, so you never opened up to them, you kept your thoughts to yourself and they never got to know you very well. All in all, whoever took your custody, didn't do their job well. You got sick and tired of them, and you've always been looking for a listening ear and comfort in the outside world. You've been waiting for someone to truly understand you and love your soul, someone who doesn't tie you up(not in a literal sense, iykyk) just because they're concerned about your safety, someone who respects your right to freedom. You might have left your guardian/parents behind and went out on your own journey to discover yourself, embracing your independence. It took a lot of courage and strength to do this, but you did it anyway. You might have faced a few major ups and downs in your life as a result of which you became mature much faster than your peers. You're much stronger now and you'll continue to be so. Your journey is from hardships to finally becoming The Queen of Wands. You might have good judgement of people and their intentions. Your parents/guardian might say that they were protecting you from harm all this time, that's why they were strict with you, they want your best and so on..but in reality, you know that wasn't required, what they actually did was messed you up. For some of you, they could be keeping you from going far away from them, because now they expect you to take care of them. They're not allowing you to grow and be your own person. Now, see, people from different countries will have different outlook on this. Indeed, old people need care but keeping a young person trapped and not letting them have a life of their own is not right. Raising children with the intention of getting something in return during oldage, is outright selfish.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

𖨆 Pile 2

Cards: The Hierophant, The King of Pentacles, The Sun, 8 of Wands Rev. clarified by The World, The Fool clarified by Ace of Pentacles, Ace of Cups clarified by 2 of Pentacles, Queen of Swords.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You guys along with pile 1 are my brave and bold people, I must say. Great leadership qualities you've got. Even your parents think so. They just think that you don't realize this, they think that you're not aware of your full potential and you're not quite out there as you should be in order to become a successful person. They think you're also very demanding of them and you don't understand the value of money. They also know that you're religious or traditional in a way but you make your own rules when it comes to you. They know you'd do very well when you'll be in a position to lead a group of people. I can see 2 scenarios here, few of you could themselves be facing a hard time in love, struggling a lot, while others of you could be giving a hard time to people who are in love with you/romantically interested in you, such as rejecting proposals, having commitment issues, intentionally or unintentionally breaking other people's heart. You are more ambitious and goal oriented and interested in focusing on your career rather than love. Your parents can sense this, whether you talk about these issues or not. You seem like a very practical and rational person to your parents and so you're not verbal about how much you love them, you're a person of actions. Your love language could be acts of service or gift giving. They also think that you believe in yourself so much that nobody can bring you down. Yet there is this issue that you somehow do not realize the amount of power you hold, that you have the ability to achieve big things in life. Your parents already see you as the King of Pentacles, The Hierophant, but they think you're not working up to it whether they've ever said this to you or not.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

𖨆 Pile 3

Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Temperance, 2 of Swords clarified by The Moon, 4 of Wands, 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Swords, High Priestess, Queen of Pentacles.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your parents think that you're very mature and you can also give good advice to people. They think you're quite sensible and philosophically, you're very open minded but when it comes to being sure of your own life, you get very confused. You might be torn between choosing your career and settling down. You don't know how to balance both. You're confused about what could come upon you if you do both the things. Currently, you could be more focused on your career, you might be wanting to achieve stability in your career first or you have a set target of achieving something specific in regards to your professional life. As far as your love life is concerned, whatever your relationship status might be, you seem heavily confused because you're afraid that your love life might interfere with your professional life. Your parents are very concerned about this because they want you to have more clarity in life and they want you to arrive at a proper conclusion. They might be trying to give you advice on this, but you're still confused and want to be left alone to decide for yourself on such significant matters of your life. Some of you might be into long distance relationships and so you're even more confused while some of you want to travel abroad for work and settle there. A few of you might even be waiting for your visa or if you're already abroad, you might be waiting for your citizenship. I'm also seeing lot of arguments here, between you and your parents. Your parents might be traditional and they might want you to have a traditional approach to life too. They want you to become responsible in life. You might want to travel the world or enjoy your life your way no matter how messed up it may look like to others. You don't want to have regrets later on in life. Your parents think you're not clear-headed though you seem so put together, they think you're so much internally balanced but you're not using your inner guidance in this matter.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

𖨆 Pile 4

Cards: 9 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Queen of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles clarified by Justice, The Sun, The Tower, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles and 4 of Cups.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your parents think you're very lazy. You could belong to an upper middle class family or a financially well off family. They think you've been fortunate enough to have everything you demand available to you within no time. They think they've spoiled you but they still love you so much. Some of you could be an only child. Some of you could've started your own business or joined your family business. They know you're someone who wouldn't like to work under anyone, you would want your own thing. Your parents know that you're very talented but you don't do anything about it or you don't extract the full advantage out of it. They believe you can show the world how talented you are, that you are your own individual person, unique and full of potential despite coming from a wealthy family. They don't want the world to tell you later on that you didn't achieve anything on your own. You could have also inherited a lot of ancestral property or wealth. You want to continue having this kind of life in your future too but you're not working hard enough for it. You might also be very young at heart or very childish. You like to be spoon fed or you want others to do your work for you. Your parents might also have this fear that, if you don't learn your lessons by yourself, life will find out other ways to teach you and then that would put you in a tough situation and you wouldn't like it, you might have to learn the hard way then. That's why they want you to work hard for yourself and your future. You might also have too many friends, too many people who might not even be your well wishers. Your parents(even your guides) want you to choose wisely. You need to focus on yourself and that can be done only when you'll be in solitude. You need to observe more and be more connected with yourself.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

𖨆 Pile 5

Cards: Justice, 4 of Swords, 4 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 6 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, The Empress, 9 of Cups Rev, The Tower and The Emperor.

Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your parents think that you're unbiased and fair. You don't do things to show off or to impress anyone. You'll let people hate you for the things you do, which you think is right in your heart. Even your parents could be a little irked by how you defend yourself and others because they think you're arguing when you're just putting your point across. They think you're the quiet, calm and lonely child of your house. You not only like your solitude but you thrive in it. You function best when you're left alone, they think. They know you're also the one who hates conflicts but would start a fight if you're being wronged. They also think you're emotionally very sensitive and would go out of your way to help others. Your parents also want you to let go of the past and the things that hurt you, because you get yourself stuck in the sorrow and hurt and then you just don't budge, you don't move on. It takes a lot for you to get out of an emotional turmoil. They like how you're happy with your own self but they also want you to get out of your comfort zone and be out there more, make friends, talk more, socialize more. Maybe you have a very few friends or no friends at all. They think you'll succeed in your life if you go out and travel more because they think you also lack confidence and boldness. They think you're also very protective of them, very caring and family oriented. They want you to become strong because you might have faced a lot of difficulties earlier and you still appear very naive and weak to them(for a few of you, your parents or others might even tease you for appearing naive and weak) but I think you have a lot of inner strength, pile 5, which the world doesn't see. They think you're the disciplined and obedient child. They know you'll stick to them in tough times but some of your parents might even be taking advantage of you. They also think that you're not smart and clever enough to understand tricky situations/people, you may or may not be so.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

——————————— ♡ ♡ ♡ ———————————

[threepandas]

Bad End: The Nunnery

The Queen's portrait was a magnificent thing. A masterpiece of light and color, detail and delicate symbolism. She was immortalized. Forever in the prime in her life. The height of her beauty. Regal and magnificent as the day the King first saw her.

She was gazing to the left, face cool, and too those who might not know her? She might even seem cold. But, according to her? She had been a WRECK. Terribly nervous that she would trip or embarrass herself. She had been, after all, new to this country. Still uncertain. Standing before a VERY important figure in both the social and political circles of her new home.

So she defaulted to her "princess mask" as she called it.

Focused on her maid.

It? Was one of many such stories the Queen has told me. Over tea. On walks in her garden. Practicing etiquette or dancing. At meals. The King often joining in fondly. Reminiscing about those earnest and awkward early days in their marriage. Assuring me that my own will be just as warm and lovely.

But...

I know it will not.

Otome games. Oh, otome games. Why did I ever love you? What could I have done to anger you so? That you would cast me in to a role such as this? The woman to be scorned. Who must dedicate her life, work and work and WORK... only to have it all ripped away. Have everything she's ever known stolen by some upstart. One with no training, no support, no IDEA of what she's doing.

Who will lead everyone and everything to disaster, RUIN, with her careless tounge and unthinking ways.

Too Rule is not a GAME.

It is a SACRIFICE.

The crown not some trinket you wear just to match your DRESS! The crown prince some man you marry for mere LOVE! If love comes, you are blessed. Lucky. But the reality is? You sit on a chair that bleeds you dry. Beneath a crown of suffering. Asked to make impossible choices. Blamed for things beyond your control. Expected to live, bleed, then die there.

With some gods damned DIGNITY.

Can she do that? CAN SHE? Your pretty, flower brained, indecisive child of a lover? The one who is so "different" and so "carefree"? Who's lives has she held in her hands? What futures? Does she even KNOW who our current trade partners are? What the tax on sheep's wool is?

For that matter...

Where were YOU?

No. My husband to be? Will never marry me. I know there will be no happy ending here. And... and it hurts. Because dispite KNOWING my "role"? My destiny? Time moves slowly. Day by day. And I have a schedule to keep. A part I must play.

Unlike my Cannon counterpart, I am not haughty. Nor am I cruel. I behave as best I can, for a young lady of my station. Dignity, compassion, but with leadership. I am being trained, after all, to be the future Queen.

I play with my young brother-in-laws. Rolling balls in the flower garden. Clapping games. Listening to them practicing their reading. And as they grow, practicing their swords. I attend my lessons. Attend the rare party. Barely see my birth parents, who were only too happy to all but sell me off for power.

And my fiance?

Can barely tolerate me.

Cruel "jokes" and mud. Only getting angrier when I do not shriek and howl like the upset child he expected I would be. The more he gets punished for trying to torment me, the worse a witch I apparently am. Clearly, having planned it all. His poor mother is distraught. His father furious with his tutors. Who is allowing this behavior, they wonder? It is certainly not them.

But they can not be everywhere. So instead, I am brought where they can supervise. I do not mind. Find quite joy in how the Queen plays with my hair instead of her fan. How the King will pick me up, when I was small enough, to place me on his lap and show me his work. Then sets aside a chair, so we may "work together" as though my lesson's work could ever rival his own in importance.

They had wanted a daughter.

Love their sons.

But...and here they always trail off. The weight of something heavy and unsaid passing between them. The King hand usually warm, cradling, on my head. They do not want to say it. Worry me so young. Or worse, traumatize me.

After all... the King's family has a nasty paternal lineage trait, in which boys tend to try and kill the competition. Be it their siblings, parent's, or sons. They don't... share well. It had been flavor text in the game. For the "only kind to me" type prince.

Daughters however? Generally normal. Tend to take after their mothers.

The King had widely been known to want twenty and maybe a prince... if he HAD too.

They got several prince's instead. Worse, it had nearly killed her Grace to give birth to them. After that? The King refused to try again. Turned his hopes to his future daughters-in-law instead. It... it was beyond what I could have ever dreamed.

It was WARM. Dream like.

Gentle.

They radiated the sort of strength and dignity that made you WANT to listen. To lean into them and be protected. Sitting with the Queen in her parlor, side by side, as I leaned against her? Cradled against soft fabric and rich dyes. Her unique perfume delicately filling the air like tendrils of mist in a dream, the scent of tea and the melodic hum of her voice as she talked. It was like a beautiful trance sometimes.

Or when the King took me riding on his massive beast of a warhorse, just because he knew I loved the scared up old menace. I had to sit practically in his lap, side saddle, because the old grouch was a gremlin who wouldn't behave otherwise. But WOULD let me pet them with enough bribes.

I... I tried to be a good child.

A daughter they could think fondly off.

And... and I knew it would HURT. It would HURT so, so fucking bad. Not to lose my ASS of a fiance. No, he was a fool. But... but to lose the closest thing I had to parents in this world. I... I didn't want to go...

But.

BUT!

If I must? Then I would be well trained. Have a spotless reputation and dignity befit a royal. His Majesty could no doubt help me find a new engagement befitting my station. And I doubted her Grace would just toss me aside. I... I hoped.

When the Protagonist came? It was every nightmare I'd ever had. Endless scandal and horrifying indignity. Even my political rivals, my social foes, were grimacing. Were taking me aside to "freshen my make up" so I wouldn't have to see my intended behaving so... unforgivably.

Just fornicate in public, why don't you?

Can't be any LESS subtle.

I held the fiancee of the heir to Minister of Defense, a lovely girl I had known but not well, as she wept. The son of the prime minister's fiancee stared, grim faced, into the distance. She had come from several nations away as part of an alliance. I offered her my guest rooms. Whatever she should need.

Things spiraled.

They played out their happly little love story. Acting as fluttering children as their actions caused chaos and destruction all around them. She refused to choose. Somehow her father allowed this. I kept myself in the public eye, knowing better then to hide, for all that I desperately wished too. It payed off.

Someone tried to frame me. Spread terrible rumors about henious acts. To bad that everyone had SEEN me suffering with dignity and grace, in public where they could watch me.

It seems I was not the only one to reincarnate.

Why could not just be happy? Fall "in love" and steal one live from one soul? Was your greed so great? Did it really anger you that much? That I would not play along?

It certainly angered His Majesty, the rumors. They were unforgivable, according to Her Grace. But... BUT, sadly, the girl was pregnant. And the idiot was their son. The other idiots their allies foolish, foolish offspring. What could be done?

Simple.

Send them to His Majesty's brother.

It was, after all, tradition to spread out after coming of age. What with the whole "I want you dead" tendency that ran in their family. All the better so as to not step on metaphorical toes, as it were. And the King? Had one surviving (for now) brother. The high priest of the High Northern Temple. Good and remote.

Perfect for banishment and a life of reflection.

That, however, left me I reminded them. I was met with matching smiles. Adopted or marry the next youngest prince! Obviously. Ah. I see. But wouldn't that be-?

The queen takes me arm, tucking it in hers, and tells me not to worry about it. Leads me towards the gardens. Have I seen the new flowers they've just ordered? They are quite lovely. I had not. I let myself be distracted. Lean my head against the Queens shoulder as we walk. And finally... relax.

I'm safe.

The Queen smiles. We are joined by the King, his expression warm. I feel at peace. Protected. Treasured. I love them so much. A warm and perfect family. I'm glad I don't have to leave. I say as much and they laugh, hugging me.

"Oh, of COURSE Darling! We would NEVER let you go!"

"That's right, my dearest. You're here forever."

[secret-fungi]

did u hear that? a fairy gained its wings

me recruiting homies to romance vesper with the promise of ✨gay fanfiction✨ after just being recruited

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hi, could you please do one where Baldwins wife and Sybilla absolutely hate each other, complete rivals you know. The reader was a queen of another country who willingly married Baldwin, and once she arrives in Jerusalem men pay much more attention to her than Sybilla, and Sybilla is bitter and jealous and she was really mean to the reader, but the readers is NOT a passive person and fires back at her. Thanks! ❤️

♧ Family Drama - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE!!! Good lord this took a while to write, I really hope you enjoy this Anon💖. Thank you so much for the request!! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

P.S. I spilt nail polish remover on my laptop while finishing this off and had a level 10 crashout. Pray for my computor guys 😭

Sybilla knew from the moment she laid eyes on her that y/n was trouble. From the moment she stepped one of her elegant, perfectly shaped feet from the carriage, all eyes fell on her.

Queen y/n/l/n.

A queen from a distant land who had come to marry her brother Baldwin. When Sybilla found out that her brother was being married off, she laughed. She did not mean to laugh, per say. It was only a reaction to what she believed to be a joke.

There was simply no way that any queen would be willing to give up her virginity and her dignity to wed a man plagued by such a horrible disease.

But she was wrong.

This beautiful, elegant woman was willing to give her brother a chance at a new life and rule by his side. Sybilla’s only explanation for the phenomenon was that she wanted Jerusalem for herself and her people after her brother's death.

Despite this, Baldwin was ecstatic the day she arrived. The two had been exchanging letters to one another for months now and he was beyond excited to finally meet his future queen.

The king went forward to greet y/n as she stepped down from the carriage.

“Hello” he said softly, barely being able to contain the smile on his face. Y/n grinned, “good evening your majesty” she replied with a small curtsey.

Sybilla cringed from her place behind Baldwin, perfectly keen to walk back into the castle and shut herself in her chambers until dinner was served.

“I must say my lord you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined” y/n stated with a smile as they began walking towards the castle.

Baldwin stuttered bashfully at her comment, “w-well thank you madame”.

No one had ever said such kind things to him before, he was truly lost for words. His bashfulness only made Sybilla cringe more. It was one thing that she wanted Jerusalem for her own after her brother's inevitable death, but to mock him with false flattery was another thing entirely.

Only it wasn't false. Y/n did indeed think he was beautiful. The way his silver mask shone in the sun, framing his stunning blue eyes was truly the most lovely thing she had ever seen.

She was not surprised or taken aback by his appearance at all, as he had described it to her through the letters, and he couldn't be more grateful.

The wedding was to be held tomorrow at dawn and the couple were beyond excited. When the small group of guards, Sybilla, the king and his soon to be queen entered the castle, they were informed dinner would be served in an hour.

Baldwin was delighted at this news since it meant that he and y/n could spend time talking and catching up before she had to go and sit with everyone else (since the king ate alone in his chambers).

“Shall we go to my rooms, y/n?” he asked, feeling almost shy at the simple question.

“Yes I would love to” she replied with a smile, Baldwin relaxed slightly at her acceptance.

“Before you go brother” Sybilla chimed in.

“I would like to have a word”.

“Oh of course, you go on ahead y/n” he replied, gesturing to a maid to accompany the queen.

Once she was out of sight and they were alone, Sybilla spoke.

“I don't trust her Baldwin” she said planley.

The king was shocked by her boldness.

“How do you mean sister?”

“I believe she only wishes to marry you so she can take Jerusalem… when you..” she caught herself.

Baldwin narrowed his eyes.

“Is it so difficult to believe, dear sister, that your ‘disgusting’ leperous brother has the capability to find a beautiful woman who will love him unconditionally?”

Sybilla’s breath caught in her throat.

“No- no not at all, I was simply-”

“that settles it then” he cut her off, turning to leave.

She didn't have the words to stop him. 

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

Baldwin retreated to his chambers where he was greeted by the lovely sight of his soon to be wife, standing outside on the balcony.

She turned to look at him when she heard the door close, an expression of warmth on her beautiful face.

That wonderful smile melted his troubles in an instant, and he was brought back to reality: This perfect woman was going to be his wife.

The two talked and played several games of chess before dinner was served. She was even more amazing than he could have imagined. 

Baldwin warned y/n of Sybilla before she went down to dinner.

“If she makes you uncomfortable at all, just leave the table and come get me okay?”.

Y/n agreed, but little did he know, she had no intention of anything getting between her and her Baldwin. She had fallen for the man hard, and nothing was going to keep him from her.

As y/n sat down at the table, she couldn't help but feel the eyes of men all over her.

She did her best to ignore it, but it was impossible to unsee.

The whispers of “is that the king's finance?”, “is she really going to marry him?” were deafening in her ears.

And she wasn't the only one who took notice of the prying eyes. Sybilla watched from across the table as eyes wandered to y/n. A pang of jealousy stung her as even her husband, Guy's, eyes landed on the woman's beautiful carved body.

After the food was bought out and a prayer had been said, Sybilla was the first to break the silence.

“So, y/n. Is there a particular reason you have decided to embarrass yourself and marry my brother or do you have a decent explanation?”. Thinking back on it, it may have been harsh but it needed to be said.

Y/n was taken aback by the question, but did not show it. Instead she took a deep breath and replied.

“So, Sybilla. Are you bitter and jealous because your leperous brother has found someone to love him more than your own husband loves you? Or are you just looking for a fight?” The room went silent and mouths fell agape.

Y/n just smiled and raised her eyebrows, expecting a reply from the princess.

“How dare you!” she stood, hitting her hands against the table.

“No! How dare you assume that just because your brother has an illness that it makes him unlovable” y/n yelled back, standing to meet Sybillas eye.

“I Baldwin told me what you said, that you believe I am only marrying into your family because I want your land. Well I have bad news for you, I am a queen of my own land, I have more than enough wealth on my own and need not anymore. I am marrying your brother because I love him. No more no less and nothing you do can stop that”.

Taking her seat again, y/n waved the other people at the table back to their own business.

They obliged and continued eating and Sybilla was left standing and looking like a fool as casual conversation resumed.

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

At the conclusion of dinner, y/n was looking forward to telling Baldwin what happened. How she had finally put Sybilla in her place.

He listened with surprise and excitement as y/n recounted the details from the dinner. By the end of the story, the pair were nearly howling with laughter at how the snooty princess had been pushed down.

“It serves her right, you know,” Baldwin exclaimed. “She has always tried to control my life, claiming that she was "protecting me" but in reality, she was just making me miserable and then avoiding me at all costs whenever something was going right, claiming that ‘she can't bear to look at me’. Maybe this will finally set her straight and she will learn to be more supportive".

Y/n sighed, wiping her eyes with the corner of a handkerchief, “we can only hope my dear. We can only hope”.

Baldwin thought for a moment.

“Y/n?” he said, suddenly becoming shy.

“Yes?” she said sweetly, making him feel guilty for asking.

“You.. you really do love me, yes?”

Y/n was shocked by how suddenly this came,

“yes of course. I fell in love with you before we even laid eyes on one another. And now you're here infront of me and I couldn't be happier” she said, placing a hand on his covered thigh gently.

The simple affection made the king's heart swell.

“Why do you doubt me?” she asked.

“I don't doubt you at all.. Just.. Sybilla must have gotten to me. I apologise” he put his head down in shame at being such a fool. Here was this lovely woman who loved him and he was about to go and mess it all up by doubting her-

His thoughts were cut short by a gentle hand coming to rest against his masked cheek, turning his head to face y/n.

“Don't ever apologise for needing to reassure my love. I completely understand but you must also understand that I really do love you. Nothing is going to change that. I couldn't care for the land that you rule. I would love you if you owned no land at all!, because I am in love with you” her kind eyes and her soft words were so lovely.

Baldwin choked back a small sob as tears formed in his eyes.

He nodded and did his best to fight the tears as y/n pulled him into a gentle embrace. It had been so long since he hugged anyone, he almost forgot what it felt like. It was so nice.

Y/n rubbed small circles onto his back as the tears flowed freely down his cheeks. He buried his masked face against her shoulder, quite content to remain in her arms for the rest of his life.

“Thank you” he whispered.

“I can't wait to marry you Baldwin” y/n said softly.

“Likewise, my love” he replied, closing his eyes and melting into her embrace.

[lucid-loves]

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 1

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.5k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, eventual smut, virgin reader

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: Ghost travels to the small country of Stuoca to meet the person assigned to guard for the next month. When you lay your eyes on him, you can’t help but feel scared, yet also curious. He feels the same when encountering such a precious, fragile thing like you.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8

The porcelain teacup felt warm in your hands, holding your favorite blend of tea flavored to your preference. The grandfather clock in the room ticked by, filling the silence. While you normally liked to play some music to fill the space with sound, your parents told you that you must be quiet. That you had to sit pretty and be patient until you were allowed to do so. 

You stared into your cup, slowly losing your appetite for teatime as the pit in your stomach grew bigger. You felt like there was something wrong, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. Normally, your parents were eager to show you off to any guest that was coming to the palace. Right now, it is different. You were locked away in one of the many palace studies. There was your butler with you who watched your worries grow. There were a couple of guards outside the closed doors, stopping anyone from entering unless the king or queen allowed it. 

Looking out the arched window and overlooking the lush palace garden, you wished you could enjoy your teatime outside like you normally did. Feeling the fresh air, hearing the birds chirp in the distance, enjoying the subtle aroma of flowers flowing with the wind. It was really the only time you were allowed to be outside. 

Even though you were a grown woman, your parents have always seen you as their little princess.

While you sat silently in the study, the king and queen of Stuoca was meeting the man that would guard you with his life. It was jarring being in a place like this. Everything from the floor to the ceiling was crafted with exquisite, polished stone. Anything made of wood was a rich cherry. On marble pedestals along the halls held works of art behind glass. Jewelry, crowns, busts. Golden chandeliers with crystals reflecting the light hung from the ceilings that were painted with angels. 

Everything in the palace was worth billions upon billions of dollars. Standing in the middle of it all was Ghost, a man that once was just scraping by in his younger days. He still stood out like a sore thumb among it all. The skull balaclava secured over his head, tattoos revealed on his forearm, the black t-shirt that clung tight to his muscles. It was like death himself walked the bright palace halls. 

“Pardon me, Lieutenant Ghost, but you don’t have to wear that mask here, do you?” The queen, your mother, nervously addressed from her red velvet seat. The mask was making her scared. That was how people normally reacted when they saw him for the first time.

“Yes I do, your majesty.” He curtly responded, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Ghost was just as uncomfortable as your parents were. When he heard that he was being deployed to guard a princess, he laughed, thinking it was a joke. But now, here he was being served tea and cookies with the king and queen of Stuoca. As much as being on base was a pain in the ass at times, he missed it. 

The king cleared his throat before taking another sip of tea from his teacup. When they reached out to the United States for a bodyguard, they weren’t expecting someone so. . . rough to be sent out. But, if this was the right man for the job, then so be it. As long as his princess was safe. “Thank you for traveling so far away from home in order to help us with our problem. Being a country so small, we weren’t even sure if your country would even bat an eye at us.”

Ghost shifted on the balls of his feet, growing more uncomfortable with the sudden gratitude. He just wanted to start the job already. The sooner he starts, the sooner he can end it. “You said that you’ve received threats. Anything else happened while I was busy traveling here?”

With a snap of the king’s fingers, a maid came over and presented an opened envelope. Ghost quirked a brow under his mask as he took it. Opening it revealed the original letter that was reported to Laswell. The one that he’s already seen with his 141 team. Handwritten, black ink, very articulated. The letter detailed how the royal family would burn down along with their palace. That the princess will be kidnapped and tortured if they didn’t get what they wanted, which was power to control the country. 

Ghost sighed, feeling like he got the short end of the stick on this mission. The entire 141 was working on this case. However, Ghost was the one stuck with babysitting duty while the rest of the guys got to experience all of the action. They were off investigating while he was sitting on a velvet couch in the grandest office he has ever seen. 

“That’s all we have for now to physically show you. The only other concern is the graffiti that has been popping up around the city.” The king explained calmly as a different maid brought over a manilla folder full of pictures. Pictures depicted a graffiti crow on various different buildings. They weren’t murals, but the symbols were prominent enough to be noticed. 

“A crow is a symbol of misfortune and death. A bad omen, wouldn’t you agree?” The queen spoke up, taking a slow sip of her tea as she tried to read the lieutenant’s reaction. It was impossible to do so with his mask. 

“Where is the princess right now?” He inquired. It seemed odd that you didn’t come in with your parents. He figured that they would want you right by their side at all times if they were really concerned about the threats. 

The king and queen stood as if on a cue. The king gestured for Ghost to do the same. “Our daughter is in one of the studies waiting to meet you. For her sake, please refrain from bringing up the letter and graffiti. We don’t want to startle her more than what has already been done.”

Ghost gave a curt nod before following your parents to the study where you stayed. The way they spoke about you, you seemed more like a caged bird rather than their beloved daughter. It unsettled the lieutenant, but perhaps it was just the consequence of formality. They wouldn’t have reached out to the United States for help if they didn’t care after all.

Once they approached the door, the guards saluted and opened it up. Beyond the doors was the most ornate office Ghost has ever seen. Once his eyes settled on you, you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 

Every hair on your head was in place with the help of maids. There were no wrinkles in your dress and no stains in sight. Your makeup was light and only flattered your features. The gems on your necklace complimented your bright eyes. Ghost was almost at a loss for words. When you stood up and curtsied to greet them, he could feel his heart beat against his ribs.

“Good evening.” You simply greeted, your tone polite as ever as a princess should be. 

“Sweetheart, this is going to be your personal bodyguard from now on. He’s going to keep you safe, no matter where you go. Isn’t that wonderful?” Your mother gave a sickly sweet smile, her efforts to meet the status quo seeming a little more forced as she interacted with you.

You definitely knew that something was wrong now. You may have been a confined princess, but you weren’t stupid. However, you decided to refrain from asking what the trouble was. It wasn’t appropriate. Not with your parents watching you.

For now, you focused on the news that you were now going to have a bodyguard. Your eyes shifted towards the large man. Muscles clearly defined under his shirt, posture straight and strong, mask hiding his identity. Compared to him, you were much smaller and much weaker. It intimidated you a bit. It made you hesitant to accept him. However, there were expectations to meet, regardless of how you truly felt.

“Princess Y/n. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You softly spoke as you gave another sweet curtsy towards him. 

He quirked a brow. You were taking this awfully well. A part of him expected some more push-back. He honestly expected you to be a spoiled brat. Yet, here you were, taking everything in stride for now. You knew how to compose yourself better than he expected. “Lieutenant Ghost. I’ll be keeping you safe. For me to do that, there’s going to be some changes.”

You looked to your parents, looking for the explanation for this change. There was not even a bat of the eye as they faked their smiles. “You will still complete your studies as a princess should. Attend the parties as needed to keep up appearances as well.”

Ghost shook his head, authority taking over his baritone voice. “Negative. The princess will not be attending any more parties. Doing so could risk her safety.”

Something was definitely wrong. Your eyes widened at the news. A part of you, though, was celebrating. No more parties? Would your parents really accept this? The sudden shock on their faces morphed into strained smiles, telling you that they weren’t going to accept this so easily. The king cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, it is very important for the princess to still make appearances. It is essential for her.”

Ghost looked at you all of a sudden, wondering how you felt about this change compared to your parents’ obvious protest. You tried to remain unreadable, not wanting to set either party off with your personal opinion. If you had the choice, though, you would sacrifice the parties. They were more for your parents than they were for you anyway.

Ghost sighed in slight frustration. Normally, he was excellent at reading people. He did it all the time with new recruits, enemies, and his team. Their poker faces were nothing compared to yours. “One party if absolutely necessary. No longer than an hour. Just to keep up appearances.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back your disappointment. Well, at least you weren’t expected to be present during the entirety of your parents’ showing off. “Understood, Lieutenant Ghost.”

At least your parents seemed happier with the compromise. Your mother grinned brightly. “Wonderful! Give him the princess’s schedule!”

Your butler hurried over and gave Ghost your schedule. He nearly stumbled back with how packed it was. Piano lessons, dance lessons, tea times, dress fittings, and independent study went on and on for pages and pages. Did you have any time to yourself besides sleep?

“The show must go on! If you have any questions or procedures to discuss, don’t hesitate to reach out to us. We hope that you two get along well.” The queen concluded, eager to leave the room so that she could go on with her own daily life. The king followed close behind as they left the room, leaving you and your bodyguard to get to know each other.

You didn’t mind being civil, but you doubted that he would try to get to know you. He simply didn’t seem like the type to stray away from his responsibilities for anything. For now, you silently went back to your seat to finish up tea time. Ghost stood awkwardly for a moment before finding his own place to settle. Leaning against the stone wall, he examined you further.

The way you held your teacup was gentle. Your dress draped against your legs like a smooth waterfall. The way you looked out the window was melancholic. After a few minutes, you spoke up, curiosity getting the better of you. “Why are you my new bodyguard, Lieutenant Ghost?”

Ghost didn’t expect your question. He hardly even knew what you meant when you asked it. Still, he kept his cool as he dug further. It wasn’t like there was any malice in your tone. In fact, your tone was nothing but innocent. “What do you mean? Are you asking me why I took the job?”

You shook your head, staring into your teacup once again as you got a little shy. Lieutenant Ghost wouldn’t report your conversations to your parents, would he? But, you had to know. “Is my life in serious danger?”

Behind the mask, Ghost’s mouth was partially opened with shock. His body grew tense as he realized what was really going on. “They haven’t told you, have they?”

“My parents can be. . . protective. Their priority to maintain normalcy can cause them to make certain judgments in regards to my life.” You subtly worded, fearing that the guards outside were listening to what you were saying. Hopefully, Ghost would understand what you meant.

Thankfully, he did. Now more than before, you really did seem like a caged bird. You deserve the truth. “Your parents received a threatening letter from a terrorist organization. They seem to be after your life in order to manipulate your parents. I serve under Task Force 141 that specializes in missions like this. The rest of my team is investigating the organization while I am to protect you personally.”

Your grip around your teacup tightened slightly as you learned the truth. It seemed that your intuition was correct. This was a serious problem. You swallowed your new fears down hard before proceeding as normal. “Thank you for your honesty, Lieutenant.”

Ghost sympathized with you as he finally saw a shred of how you really felt about this entire situation. His perception of who he was protecting was completely wrong. You were no brat or clueless royalty with too much time and money on your precious princess hands. You were sharp. You were polite. You were obedient. It made him want to know the real you.

He knew that he shouldn’t get closer than what was necessary. Yet, the anxious look in your beautiful eyes as you stared out the window made him want to provide you with some comfort. Some way to break the ice while also doing his job. He opted for a simple conversation about your daily schedule. “What’s independent study for you?”

“It’s my time to study what I wish within reason. Any subject that I may find interesting as long as it is appropriate for a princess.” You delicately explained, putting everything as nice as possible.

All Ghost heard was that you were restricted from real knowledge. However, it wasn’t his place to make a comment on it. It didn’t matter if he didn’t find it fair. You were a princess and you obviously took your responsibilities, fair or not, seriously. He gave a simple hum in acknowledgment for the time being on that matter. “What are you studying?”

You looked at Ghost curiously, wondering how much of this was just workplace conversation and how much of this was genuine attempts at knowing you. The way Ghost looked at you with such resolute, cold eyes made you shiver. Something told you that this was his usual look. “I’m studying many things at the moment that would be proper for me to know.”

It seemed like subtle and vague answers were the only things he was going to get out of you, but he already picked up on the fact that you didn’t do this to be cold towards him. The tone you carried was careful. Gentle. You didn’t want to say anything that could get you in trouble. Simon knew what that was like.

The conversation was dropped for the time being. It seemed like your physical being wasn’t the only thing he had to protect. Your social reputation was at stake as well. Respecting that, he focused back on guarding you. Not without noticing every little thing about you though.

You stole glances at him every so often as well as you sipped your tea. The more you looked at him, the more he intrigued you. You’ve never had a guard that had his build. You’ve never even seen someone with tattoos in person before. He stood out against the pristine white around the palace. A shadow in the light. You were curious about what he looked like under the mask.

~

The rest of the night proceeded as normal save for your new shadow. You were ushered by your butler to your routine lessons, Ghost always close behind. He stayed silent throughout it all, but observant. You did feel like he was watching your every move. While you were used to being heavily monitored, having Ghost be the one observing you made you more nervous than normal. Music lessons, dance lessons, and studying didn’t go as smoothly as you made more mistakes under the pressure. For some reason, you wanted to impress him like you were one of his newest soldiers. 

Ghost thought nothing of it as you did what you had to do. In reality, he found your abilities to be quite impressive, mistakes or not. He did chalk it up to him being an intimidating presence. Despite it, he could tell that you were skilled. 

When bedtime rolled around, he followed into your room. A grand room with a king, white canopy bed, cherry-wood antique furniture, and large, arched windows leading to a balcony. The windows were the second problem that Ghost needed to address if he wanted to keep you safe. “You can’t sleep in here. It would be too easy to-”

Meeting your eyes made him pause. You waited patiently for him to finish as he was going to say, prepared to take the steps necessary to ensure that the next change would be as smooth as possible. Looking at you, though, Ghost saw a pretty woman that he needed to be more gentle towards. Less explicit in language. You were already afraid for your life. He didn’t want to make that anxiety worse for you.

“Is there another room in the palace that has less open windows?” He asked cautiously, minding his words this time. 

You appreciated his careful consideration, feeling more and more safe with him as he made decisions to protect you. “I believe there is. I can sleep there tonight.”

He followed you to another room in the palace that was away from any windows. He nearly sighed in relief as the new bedroom was windowless, smaller, and much more comfortable to be in. The bed was still massive and the antique furniture was polished, but the warmer palette of the decor made the room feel less like a museum display. 

You felt better too as you looked around the cozy room. The windows in your usual bedroom just reminded you of what you couldn’t have. Though, your anxiety grew as you realized that Ghost was still within the room. Your cheeks grew a subtle pink as you chose your words with precision. “I would like to get ready for bed. Is it necessary for you to be here while I do?”

“Well. . .” Ghost thought carefully, trying to make the best decision here. After a few seconds, he determined that you needed your privacy. He was already invading it enough by being your personal bodyguard. With an accepting, silent nod, he stepped out of the room while you changed into pajamas. A few maid staff passed by, gawking at the lieutenant. A glare was enough to have them scurry on their way.

While you changed, you thought about Ghost. About his real personality, his job, his friends. What kind of work does he normally do? Has he ever killed someone? It certainly seemed like he’s gotten into his fair share of fights from the scars you have seen on his arms. Was he dreading this job? At times, you thought that you could see him get antsy while waiting for you. You probably wouldn’t like waiting on a princess either if you were in his shoes. 

Once you were changed into your silky pajamas, you knocked on the door. “Lieutenant? I’m all dressed. You could come in now.”

Swiftly, he came in. For a second, he admired the way you looked in your pajamas. You looked so much more comfortable. The way you were letting down your hair in front of the vanity had him gulp too. “I won’t be watching you sleep all night. Just until you fall asleep, and then I’ll wait outside the door.”

“What about your sleep?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. The way his arms were crossed over his broad chest made you shrink within yourself a bit. 

“I’m used to not sleeping. I don’t usually sleep well either. Don’t worry about me, princess.” He responded bluntly, putting some more personal distance between the two of you. He would be lying if your concern over his own time didn’t make him melt a little though. 

“I see. My apologies, but I am unsure that I will be able to fall asleep quickly tonight. You might be waiting for a while.” You honestly admitted, feeling the anxious pit in your stomach begin to swallow you like a blackhole. You already felt enough like a burden to the maids and butlers with how strictly your parents had them wait on you. 

Ghost shook his head, noticing how lightly you scrunch your brows in concern. How you nervously bit a tiny part of your bottom lip. Subtle behaviors that no one would notice if they weren’t truly paying attention. You were so different from what he was expecting when he was first told that he would be guarding a princess. “It’s fine. This is my job.”

You turned away from your reflection in the mirror to look at Ghost. Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed how blue his eyes were. Such a deep, oceanic blue that held so many secrets. He stared right back at you, noticing how your worries couldn’t be quelled with just two simple sentences. Finally, he was able to read you.

“If it will help, you can talk to me until you fall asleep. Anything you want. I promise that I won’t tell the king and queen.” He offered, taking a seat on the Victorian-styled couch that was at the foot of the bed. 

His offer came as a complete surprise to you. You didn’t expect him to be so kind. You have learned long ago that there was a difference between being civil and genuinely kind. Ghost was being nice, which felt like a rarity given his outward personality. Quickly, you finished getting ready for bed. Once you were cozy underneath the cotton covers, Ghost turned off the main light. The small lamp on your nightstand stayed on, allowing a comfortable dim to illuminate the otherwise dark room.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you as you tried to think about what to talk about. There was still a fear in you that he would tell your parents, but Ghost didn’t seem like the type to break his promises. Besides that, you never really talked about yourself before. No one has ever been interested in what you liked and disliked. Not that you had a lot of experiences with how your parents kept you in the palace and filtered what you could learn. However, that wasn’t to say that you were curious enough to find a way to learn anyways. At the very least, you had plenty of questions about the outside. 

“For my independent study, I am focusing on classicism art. At least. . . that is what my parents think. I. . . I have been studying other things in secret. My handmaiden sneaks new books into the library for me sometimes if she can.” You confessed, feeling a weight of your chest as you admitted your truth. You didn’t like lying and sneaking around in secret. While you loved new knowledge, you still carried that weight with you.

Ghost listened carefully to your confession. His back was turned towards you, a comfortable thing for you since you weren’t keen on the idea of someone watching you fall asleep. It was enough for him to just sit at the foot of your bed. 

“What new books have you read?” He inquired, wondering what sorts of books a princess could possibly want to read in secret. 

You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks flush as you admitted more of your secrets. Without interruption, he let you speak. He listened to your voice that lowered into a pleasant whisper when you told him about all the books you were reading and wanted to read. A couple of times, he couldn’t help but crack a smirk at some of your opinions that were refreshingly assertive. 

It didn’t take long for him to hear you start dozing. It started with quieter words morphing into sweet slurs. As soon as he heard your steady, deep breaths, he silently got up and left the room. Standing guard in front of the door, he contacted his team by phone to give an update. 

“Lieutenant, how is she?” Captain Price cut to the chase, his voice low as he investigated matters on his side.

“She’s. . .” Ghost began before trailing off. He had to think about the right words to use. 

“She's a spoiled rotten princess?” Another voice came through. The chuckle was no doubt Soap.

“Honestly, no. She’s a princess, but she’s anything but rotten.” He finally admitted, keeping his voice quiet since the halls seemed to echo. 

There was another laugh before the captain cleared his throat, regaining authority. “I’m glad that she is much more pleasant to deal with than what was expected. Just be careful not to get too personal. I know you will be around each other a lot, but the mission is our priority.”

“Of course, Captain.” Ghost promised, wondering if this particular promise would be easy to keep or not. 

[chimielie]

sun seeker

summary: you are a princess, a future queen. somehow, this is still not enough.

word count: 1.5k

cw: fighting, oikawa’s an asshole (sorry), arranged marriage/royalty au, fake history stuff, angst to fluff (i guess), i’m not telling you who the love interest is but like. Guess, misogyny, ambiguous ending

a/n: if i tell you that i imagined a whole other side for oikawa will you forgive me? also this was supposed to be a short drabble related to between lightning strikes but it very much was not. my bad

Your betrothed is unexpectedly quiet.

It had only been a few days since you met the crown prince, having been sequestered in your father’s court in the country for most of your life, learning to fill the seat of someday-Empress. The capital is huge, bustling with people, always noisy—or so you surmised from within your veiled carriage. You had thought, as you bowed before the Emperor and Imperial Heir, that your life was finally beginning, finally growing beyond the narrow confines of etiquette training and religious rituals.

Instead, you felt your dreams shrivel and die as your daily routine proceeded exactly as it had for close to two decades. The only difference was time mandatorily spent with Tooru, who seemed… less than enthused by your match.

You had dreamed of someone who chafed against authority as you had, who felt as bound by propriety despite the privilege of your positions. Alas, you found him to be both sullen and arrogant, eager to rule but in denial of his own dissatisfaction with a noblewoman such as yourself. It made you want to scream. You had not chosen the circumstances of your birth, the path which you had been led to walk. It was not your fault that fate had pushed you two so forcefully together without regard for your desires, ambitions, or personalities.

“I was told you visited the temple this morning,” you say, watching your fiancé pause a long sip of tea, his brown eyes temporarily widening. Your face slips momentarily into a frown; you cannot conceal your frustration with his clear disdain for such small talk but unwillingness to bring anything more engaging to your table.

“Yes,” he says finally, setting down his cup. Light brown liquid sloshes over the rim and onto his fingers; he wipes them on his robes without care for the expensive fabric. “There are many rituals that must be done to ensure the most auspicious wedding possible.” His voice catches noticeably on the word wedding. You take a sip of your own tea to hide your grimace.

It is lukewarm. How long have you been sitting here, trying to force civility?

“Did it go well?” You ask in turn, your pitch straining. Behind you, one of the imperial guards snorts. When you try to discern which of them broke character, they have all returned to a stoic, uniform position. You straighten your posture.

“It was satisfactory,” Tooru says. You hear the snort again, and the crown prince’s lips twitch, just barely.

You shut your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to take in a deep breath. Your chest feels tight, though, bound by heavy fabrics and scarlet ribbon. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere for the air to go.

“What did you do this morning?” He asks, and you throw the cup at him.

His Imperial Highness is athletic beneath his aristocracy, and he dodges it easily. It bounces off one of the silk screens behind him and lies, cracked in two, in a puddle of lukewarm tea on the floor. You bury your face in your hands and scream through your teeth, a short, guttural noise that carves a little more space in your chest to breathe.

When you look up again, he stands over you, his perfect brows pulled into an expression of concern. You know without looking that two of the Imperial Guard are standing behind you, hands on their weapons.

“You have asked me that,” you say slowly, fighting to push the words out through the red haze of rage, “twice now. And you asked what my plans were yesterday. And the answer is always the same: wait in my rooms for you to call, because I am a painting of a woman waiting for you to walk in and criticize my form and decide that I am satisfactory.”

“I didn’t—” he says, and for a moment you become a fairytale heroine instead of a scorned princess, sitting on the floor looking up at him with despondent eyes that betray your desire to be loved. “This is what we are,” he decides finally, expression no longer concerned. “I think perhaps you need some rest.”

“You cannot be serious,” you seethe, pushing yourself to your feet. One of the guards puts a hand on you, ready to restrain you.

Tooru turns, his back facing you. He glances back as he exits, tone bored, eyes cold.

“Do not worry yourself,” he tells you, “I still find you satisfactory.”

You lunge after him, but two strong hands clamp down on your arms, hauling you back. You writhe and kick, but when you look up at your guard, his face is impassive, his eyes distant.

“I hate you,” you snarl, and watch as his eyes flicker down to your face. Seeing you. “I hate you,” you say again, but it sounds much more like a sob.

You can’t sleep that night.

The moon is full, high and bright, and every time you close your eyes, you see visions of your future. A glorified concubine, living in an expensive sanitarium, surely to be driven to insanity before your husband can ascend the throne.

You sit up, wild-eyed, and throw your door open with more force than you realize.

“Princess,” says your guard, startled.

“I can’t sleep,” you say, your heart thrumming in your chest. “Hajime, please, I can’t sleep.”

“I can’t let you out of your quarters,” Iwaizumi Hajime, head of your security detail, says.

“I don’t want—” you start, and he gives you a knowing look. “I know. Please just come and—talk with me. A little.”

He sighs, deeply, a rush of wind through cypress trees, and follows you into your room.

“Sit,” you order him, and the moonlight affords you the ability to see his green eyes flash with panic. “I am your future queen. Sit.”

He sits, trying to maintain his stern, professional face, even as you peel his helmet off and run your hands through his flattened hair.

“You lied to me,” you hum, and he jerks under your touch, façade breaking. “You told me Tooru never shut up.”

“I knew him a long time ago,” says Hajime. One of the few who had come with you to Kyoto, he had been raised here and come to your father’s court as a youth to learn to fight. “He’s not—he’s stubborn. He’ll soften eventually.”

“I don’t care,” you say bitterly. “Why did you hold me back?”

“He’s the prince,” Hajime says, his voice rasping with exasperation.

“I am the princess,” you say, and his lips press together into a straight line.

“My princess,” he murmurs. Hajime has always run warm, much more suited for Kyoto’s climate than your hometown’s. When he wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his side, you can feel his body heat through his armor.

“You let him say horrible things to me,” you say. His hold on you tightens.

“He is my oldest friend.”

“I am your—” you sigh heavily, pushing away from him, looking out at the moon. “I am nothing to you. I will live, though I am ungrateful. Many would say I am the luckiest woman in all the land.” The air is very cold without his touch.

“You are not nothing to me,” Hajime says, and you smile wistfully at his selective hearing.

“At least I am satisfactory.” You don’t see what happens, but Hajime’s helmet clatters loudly on the floor a moment later. “What—”

“He is my oldest friend,” he repeats himself, but his voice is low, so deep in his chest you can barely hear him. It does not matter; you can feel his words. “I wanted to kill him.”

Your lips part on a silent gasp, and he leans in close, so close that you can nearly taste him. You’ve always loved the way he smells, something base that relaxes you instantly. You haven’t been this close to him since you left home.

“He’s the Emperor,” he continues, “I can’t hurt him. I held us back.”

“Us?” You ask, his fingers suddenly tightly intertwined with yours.

“Ask me to help you leave,” he says, and you shut your eyes against his gaze, frightening and familiar all at once. “Ask me to take you away from here. I had—I have plans, and you will not be happy with him, Princess. You will be more than satisfactory, satisfied—you will be loved.”

Something knotted tightly unspools in you, red threads laying themselves out in perfect lines. You duck your head and nod against his shoulder, face rubbing against the metal of his armor.

You aren’t likely to succeed, you know, no matter how thoroughly Hajime has planned. Your fiancé will look for you: a stubborn man, like he had said. You do not know if his disdain for you or his love for Hajime will protect you. You could both die.

“Take me away,” you say, voice ringing out like a queen’s.

The moon, at its fullest cycle, chases its estranged wife into the day. The crown prince wakes without his betrothed. The world only spins forward.

[bunnivez]

-ˋˏ 𐔌 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𐦯 ˎˊ-

⟡ ݁₊ . 𝐀 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧; 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

⟢ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.ᐟ — Homophobia, Angst

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

Grace, kind, strong, smart, obedient upon her parents. Any little girl’s dream is to be a princess, wear those beautiful high quality clothes, live in a palace and find their true love. You hated it though, if being a princess was all that good why are you unhappy? Isn’t it every girls dream? Why is it not yours?

‘Perhaps i’ve gone crazy’ is what you tell yourself, perhaps you aren’t grateful. It’s sad, really. Why must it be that a princess should marry royalty? Or a man? To continue the royal bloodline? Foolish. It pains you, it’s like a parasite eating you from the inside every time you look at her and remember she can’t be yours, nor can you be hers.

Why? Why was fate so cruel? Why did you have to fall in love with the one person you can’t have? A woman, a woman who fights for your country and serves for it. Your parents would never accept it, never; god knows what they’d do if they ever found it. Beat you? Or worse: remove her title as a knight and ruin her life.

You hated her, you hated her stupid short hair, her kind eyes, her lips you oh so want to taste, the smile she cracks when she see’s you, you hated the mornings you would see her walking her horse through your window, you hated her. You hated Cinnabar, but not as much as the fact that you can’t have her.

Would it be different if she was a guy? If she was royal? In another universe would she be able to touch you so lovingly, kiss you, hold you in her strong arms without being punished?

“You’re going to become a wonderful queen once you take the throne, princess. Whoever gets to marry you will surely be one lucky man.” Is what she once told you. It made you feel sick, you couldn’t tell her though. It would make things worse between you both and risky.

In another universe you’d be able to get married yo her, call her your wife, wake up next to her, run your fingers through those soft locks of hair—

“You’re getting married to Prince Philip.” Those words quickly made you snap, “What?” You asked. Your mother sighed,

“Lovely, we found you a proper prince for you. Prince Philip surely you remember him correct? He is a good gentleman, smart, kind, and seems to have interest in his people, your father and I have talked about it and we think he is a suitable husband for you.”

You wanted to cry, you wanted to throw the bowl of soup at them, turn the table over, rip your skin off, but you maintained a straight face. A princess must always be graceful, a princess must be obedient and not make a fuss to her parents.

When you made it to the privacy of your room however, it’s as if your walls crumbled all together. Tears can’t stop falling from your eyes, why did you fall in love? Was this a punishment? Because you fell in love with a woman? Because you fell in love with a mere knight who worked for your parents?

You sobbed against your pillow, you just couldn’t stop— when will it stop? Will there be a day you will finally forget about her and this pain in your stomach will go away?

You wish she was here. You cannot deny it. She’d run her fingers through your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, “everything is going to be okay, my princess.” However that’s a foolish thing. She probably thinks you’re happy that you’ll marry someone as kind hearted at Philip, but he isn’t her. No matter how kind he is, how loyal, how charming he is; never will he compare to your Cinnabar.

You’ll just love her silently, watch her walk her horse in the mornings, try to catch her smiles, her cute tired face after training, imagine how sweet and perfect her lips would feel, the conversations you both have in your head.

Yeah, you’ll just love her silently. She will never know, you can’t tell her. You can’t grab her hands and elope with her, you can’t be that selfish to risk her life no matter how much you need her by your side.

You’ll just love her silently, imagine her naked body next to yours, whispering your name and touching you in your most intimate parts.

You’ll just love her silently.

⟢ 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐳 ᵎᵎ — do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt any of my works without my permission and or confirmation: reblogs and hearts are appreciated ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა