#we’re so royally and completely fucked

[sadpanda]

Seeing videos of Trump’s incoherent rambling at his press conference today in between videos of LA literally burning to the ground is definitely something

[autism-disco]

ok handels messiah is just as wonderfully dreadful as i remember it why does he write tenor lines like that. what the hell man

[miniwheat77]

Can’t hide. (141 x Reader.)

!NSFW, smut, sex pollen, 141 hunting reader, p in v sex, gang bang, you know the drill no minors!

“You ready for this?” Captain Price raises a fist up to you. “Born ready cap.” You smile. Bumping the side of your fist into his.

“Nothing to it anymore. Clean sweep, be back by lunch time.” You smile.

Those were your famous last words, before all hell broke loose.

It started out normal.

Infil went excellent. Quick and easy. Nik found a good spot for the Helicopter to land, left without a problem. He wouldn’t be too far away when Captain Price called on him.

Sneaking in was easy too, everyone laid low and stayed quiet. Eliminating every single threat on the small base was also just as simple, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Until something went wrong.

Gaz was the first to come across it. The massive underground bunker full of huge vats. Full of a mysterious liquid. Vials upon vials, syringes full. It seemed endless. Nobody knew what the mysterious liquid was until you stumbled upon the paperwork for it. And than. It was go time. The five of you worked for a couple hours destroying every bit of it, each of you even having fun with it.

Until Soap tripped over a notebook and stumbled into a large pool of it, he catches himself with the edge.

But not before his hand dips into the liquid.

It burns immediately. It absorbs into his skin almost instantly and his body soaks it up like a vitamin. “Shit.” He gasps. “That can’t be good.” Captain Price laughs. Just after he finishes speaking, they hear Gaz let out a hiss. “Shit- it soaked through my boots!”

“Well that’s really not good.” They laugh. “Let me get Nik on exfil, Laswell will know what to do.” He mumbles.

He doesn’t announce it, but it’s soaked through his boots as well.

That leaves Ghost and you who haven’t been infected and he wants to keep it that way.

“Nik, we’re ready for exfil.”

“I’m worried about these storm clouds Captain.” Nik calls back through the radio. “Shit… bloody fucking…” he hesitates before speaking into the radio back to Nik. “ETA?”

“Maybe tomorrow morning if it’s clear Captain, I can get someone to come in with a vehicle.”

He sighs. “It’s alright, we’ll wait it out.”

He walks back into the bunker, Gaz and Johnny have shed a couple layers, a sheen of sweat glistens off of them. The drug is starting to set in. It wouldn’t be long now. “I got myself with a Syringe, Price.” Ghost mumbles. “Bloody hell. Who isn’t infected now?”

“Just Y/N, sir.”

He sighs.

“Did we destroy all of the paperwork?” He asks. “Yes sir.”

He groans. You’re fucked. Royally fucked.

“Well. Suppose we wait it out and see what happens because I have no clue. Nik can’t get here until morning becaus-“ a loud burst of thunder hits and cuts him off.

“Of that.” He sighs.

He paces for a few minutes, doing the old man things that he usually does, but as the minutes tick by, everyone gets more antsy.

“Let’s go find somewhere else to stay, it’s cold and dangerous down here.” He mumbles. His own heart is pounding in his chest. The five of you make your way back out of the bunker, walking through the mud and pouring rain to get inside the building completely. You split off and look for a good spot to stay for the night but the only thing anyone finds is a conference room.

Everyone picks a chair around the table, and it’s a waiting game after that.

You’re off in another world daydreaming, not paying too much attention to anything. Thinking about the hot shower you’ll take when you finally get out of here. It’ll be so nice, washing away the blood and dirt.

You don’t see the 4 stand up, gravitating toward a specific corner. You don’t see them conspiring.

You’re not expecting it when Soap grabs a hold of you. Holding you much tighter than he normally would for any reason at all. It pulls you out of your thoughts and that’s when you see that there’s something wrong. The four of them surround you. “W-woah!” You mumble, trying to tug your arm away from Soap. He doesn’t budge. “Let go Johnny- what’s wrong?” You ask, eyes darting around the room. You’re only met with hungering eyes. None of them make a move to stop him.

Before you know it, they’re lifting you up, the four of them slamming you down on the large oak conference table, a hiss leaving your lips when your back hits it. Only then do you see your Captain coming at you, Syringe in hand. “Woah! Hey wait! You don’t have to do this! What’s going on?”

“It’s a sex drug sweetheart. And we’re all infected.” He chuckles. His voice is far darker than before.

The syringe stabbing you in the arm has you hissing out, teeth clenched. He presses the back of it, injecting the liquid into you. “You now too.” He smirks. His gaze is dark as he looks at you. The four of them looming over you like a storm. Gaz reaches for your waistband and that’s when you know this is about to get serious. They’re like a pack of hungry wolves ready to tear you to shreds.

“Fuck.. smell so good.” Johnny groans. You get a good grip on the table and slam your heel into Gaz’s chest, making a mental note to apologize to him when all of this is over. You force yourself back, rolling off of the table and making a break for it.

You bust through the metal door at a full sprint and don’t look back for even a second. The rain is coming down fast and it’s hard to run through the mud but you manage. The dense forest around the compound will shield you from them, or so you hope.

Branches of pine needles and leaves slap past you as you sprint, your heart pounds in your chest but you know what awaits you if you stop.

“It’s alright!” You hear them yelling out to you. Clearly coming after you. “You can run but you can’t hide!”

The deep roar of Simon’s voice has chills rising up your spine. The drug is working its way through your veins now. You had to create as much distance as possible from them. You notice a stream and decide to take another way. Walking into it to conceal your footprints and using it for a while. It feels like you’ve been walking for miles when you finally step out of the freezing water. You’re sure there’s no way they’ll find you, so you settle down between some bushes.

You lay low and quiet. You’re freezing cold and it’s hard to hide but you manage it. The rain never lets up, and you never hear anything else, settling down to try to warm yourself up before you died from hypothermia. You have nothing, having taken all of your gear off in the conference room you had found. Bad move.

You wait. Shivering with cold feet covered in mud. When this was all over you were going to take the hottest shower you’ve ever had.

Once again, your mind fucks you.

You’re off in space somewhere when arms wrap around you. His deep laugh has you squirming. “You’re not getting away this time sweetheart.” He laughs.

It’s Ghost. You slam the back of your head into him, bloodying his nose. He’s dizzy from the hit, he lets you go and you take off again. This time there’s four sets of footsteps chasing after you, right on your heels. Like something out of a horror movie. Your lungs burn and your legs ache but you don’t make it far, a hand on your ankle has you colliding with the forest floor. You cry out when whoever had tackled you moves on top of you. They’ve got you pinned. You’re thankful that it’s just pine needles under you now, much nicer than the mud.

Your shirt is soaked and stuck to you.

You’re horny from the stupid drug and you know you can’t keep yourself away from them any longer. You’re still panting as they stare down at you. “Fine. You caught me.” You breathe.

They laugh. “Nice little game of cat and mouse, lass. Now it’s time to pay up.” Soap chuckles. He grasps the hem of your pants, fighting them off of you since you’re soaked to the bone. You roll your eyes at him. “You’re nothing but a bunch of pervs.” You roll your eyes. “Before, you were fighting us. Don’t see you fighting me now.” He chuckles. He’s right, you’re not fighting him. The ache you feel in your belly is begging for relief. “If I’m such a perv, tell me to stop.” He looks down at you. The moonlight illuminates him just enough. You can see his hand gripping his throbbing cock. He’s got himself lined up with your entrance. Legs pushed apart. The others have let go. Seeing you’re not putting up a fight anymore.

You shake your head.

“Do it.” You grit your teeth. He laughs. Pushing himself into your dripping hole. You take in a sharp breath, whining out. Hearing him chuckle at how pathetic you are. Captain Price raises your shirt up, thumb brushing over your nipple. You reach up and grasp his hand. You guide it down to your clit, hearing him scoff, shaking his head with a smirk. “Looks like the drugs working on you too. Little slut..” he laughs.

“Not gonna work, I like when you’re mean to me.” You look up at him, smile playing at your lips. He rolls his eyes, laughing when your eyes screw shut as he starts drawing circles into your clit as Johnny fucks you. “Such a bad girl. Ran away for nothing but fun hm? You like the chase sweetheart?” He chuckles. You wanted him to shut up, so you grasp his exposed cock. Hearing him sigh. “Shit…” he mumbles. He’s hard and throbbing. His body begs for some kind of release.

The primal need they feel to have a pussy on their cocks. It’s unbearable.

Soap is like a wild animal as he fucks you. Groaning out as he fucks you like a madman. Captain Price doesn’t stop circling your clit and it leaves you a writhing mess. Ghost looms over you, pumping his cock with his hand. They’re so pathetic and desperate, you feel bad almost. You look back at him, through your eyelashes. Eyes locking with his. It sends sparks shooting through him. The look you have, it’s nothing but filthy. You lick your lips and he knows immediately what you’re implying. He wastes no time scooting further toward you and you part your lips as he lines his dick up with them. They part as he slides into your mouth, nearly crying out as you take him down your throat. “Oh fuck…” he whines. You toy with the tip, tonguing it as he nearly cries from being deprived. They’re all so pathetic. “Come here, Kyle.” You draw away from Ghost for just a second to wave Kyle over to your free hand. He all but scrambles to you. The attention you’re giving them is more than they’ve had in months. “Oh fuck..” he whines. Your hands wrapped around them, it’s nearly too much. You take Ghost back into your mouth, your captains fingertips still dancing across your clit. Ghosts hand moves to pinch and toy with your right nipple, Gaz takes the hint and does the same to your other. You mewl at the stimulation. Feeling more at once than you’ve ever felt, but you can’t help but want more. You give them a few minutes before you fight against them. They worry you’ll run again but you prop yourself up onto your hands and knees, pushing Johnny down and climbing on top of him.

He’s surprised for a second. You move over him, sliding back down onto him. He gasps out. You grasp your captains hand and guide him behind you. “Oh shit..” he mumbles again. Realizing what it is you want. He spits into his hand, gliding it up his cock. Lining up with your ass. He teases your hole with his tip, getting you slick enough to handle him. When he slides into you and both of your holes are filled, you’re almost satisfied. You need just a little more.

Ghost stands over Johnny, cock lining back up with your lips and you take him into your mouth.

Johnny’s hands find your nipples as he fucks himself up into your pussy. You whine out, hand reaching out for Kyle’s dick once more. You wiggle your right hand free, gliding it down the front of you, finding your own clit. And finally, it’s enough.

You’re shaking after just seconds of being stimulated. To the point it’s almost too much. “Ah fuck- gonna cum.” Soap hisses.

You draw away from Ghost and the words leave your lips before you can stop them. “Cum in me- fill me up.” You gasp.

The drug doesn’t make him think twice before he’s filling your pussy. Crying out and bucking his hips until he’s too overstimulated to think straight, drawing away from you. He switches places with Gaz.

He steps away, obviously trying to clean himself up. The clarity is there now in his brain, the realization of everything going on is becoming clearer.

The other three still remain, all desperate to feel your walls clamping around them. Gaz has nestled himself beneath you, surprised when you move right up to him, raising yourself up with your knees and lowering yourself onto his cock. You’re close, you just need that final push to reach an orgasm. He starts thrusting up into you, once against feeling that same intense pleasure as before. He cups your breasts and your breath hitches in your throat. The knot is building, getting bigger and bigger.

“Oh f-fuck!” Captain Price gasps, hips stuttering as he reaches his high. He fills you up, wrapping his arms around your front and burying himself inside of you. He’s panting. Relaxing for just a second. Feeling the way your body lurches as Gaz thrusts up into you. Captain Price regains his composure and stands up. Taking a deep breath as he creates some distance. Ghost is quick to take his place. Your knees are tired from the hard ground.

Ghost lines his fat cock up with your ass, sliding into you. Filling you to the hilt with his big cock. You whine out, nails digging into his arms. He takes a deep breath. Lips right by your ear. “Deep breaths doll.” His voice is deep, sending chills up your spine. He pulls you flush to his chest, his shirt is wet and cold against you. His cargo pants are too, the only warmth you feel from him is his cock pulled through the zipper hole. He glides his hand over your chest and stomach, trailing it down your front to your nub, rubbing circles against it. Your breaths get more ragged and unsteady, a sob is clawing its way out of your throat. You’re shivering from the cold, the rain has never subsided. Your hair is completely soaked, Ghost moves it onto one shoulder so that he can leave kisses against it.

You clutch Gaz tight, his hand entwined with yours as he thrusts into you.

“Agh, I’m so close!” You cry.

“Me too…” Gaz breathes.

Rocking your hips into him, meeting his thrusts. He’s not going to last. He hisses, his pretty white teeth showing in the moonlight. You lean down, letting your head rest forward as they ravage you. “Ah- gonna… gonna- ugh!” Gaz moans out, hips jerking up into you as he fills you, not stopping for even a second as he rides out his high. He finally stops when he’s overstimulated and Ghost draws himself out of you. Lifting you off of Gaz. Gaz stands up, and moves to join the others in the building. You’re nearly fucked out, so close to being on the edge but just short each time. You’re desperate at this point.

“Hold on.” Ghost hesitates. He tugs his soaking shirt off, fighting with it for a second. He uses it to clean off his shaft.

“What are you doing?” You ask. “I.. I didn’t want to give you an infection or anything. Don’t worry about it.” He mumbles. When he’s gotten himself completely wiped off, he lifts you up onto him. “They’re so selfish aren’t they? Leaving before you’ve even cum.” He’s got a grip on your hips, guiding you down his shaft. You whine out. You’re fucked out but still want to cum so bad. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest any minute, you want it so much. “How about you cum with me hm?” He breathes. “Deep breaths darling, hold onto me.” He pants. His grip on you is tight.

He keeps a steady pace. You’re right on the edge again.

“Cum with me.” He breathes. “Show me what you can do darling, go on.”

You bury your head into the crook of his neck, crying out as you finally reach your peak. It washes over you like a tidal wave, shaking against him. He grits his teeth and whines as he reaches his own high, filling your pussy.

He rides out your highs, raising you up onto him by your hips. You’re nearly sobbing when he lowers you from him for just a second. “Fuck…” you whine. “Here, it’s cold but it’s all I got. Put it on.” Ghost passes you his soaked jacket from earlier. It is cold but it covers you. He lifts you up, beginning the hike back to the building.

———

“You all look exhausted.” Nik notes as everyone climbs into the chopper.

You exchange glances, resting your hand over your neck. There’s been a number of love bites left there the night before. You pretend like you’re rubbing your neck. Hiding your pink cheeks. “Uh.. yeah. It’s been a long night.” Captain Price avoids his gaze. “Ready to be back at base.” He laughs.

Nik notes the extremely quiet and awkward ride back to base. Ghost sitting a tad bit closer to you than normal.

“Does it hurt?” You mumble to Ghost. “What do you mean?” He asks. “You said you poked yourself with a syringe and got infected yesterday, does it hurt?” You ask again. “What syring- oh.. oh uh… yeah. No it doesn’t hurt.” He mumbles. “Where was it again?” You ask. “Oh uh. It was somewhere on my hands but the needle was so small so you can’t see it.” He lies.

You don’t catch the lie that he’s so clearly hiding.

His dirty little secret.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader.

the day after another full moon, blitzø comes into the office bragging about his sexual prowess. when you make one too many snide comments about it, he decides to show you just how good stolas gets it every month.

based on an anonymous request and far longer than I originally planned.

4k.

featuring: pure smut, bondage, oral sex (m&f receiving), breathplay, dom!blitzø, overstimulation, degradation, daddy kink, sex in the i.m.p. office, creampies, very minor bloodplay.

“Well,” Blitzø makes a show of stretching his arms out in front of him as he comes strolling into the office, interlacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “If the way his Royal Bird-ness was still shakin’ and droolin’ when I left is any indication, we’re good for at least another – where the fuck are you guys?!”

You roll your eyes from where you’re holed up in the conference room, suddenly wishing you had decided to work from home today. The last thing you were in the mood for was listening to your boss brag ad nauseum about his sex life; you’d had the latest of a long string of bad dates last night, and while they’d actually managed to impress you enough to earn the chance to come home with you, they’d proved quickly disappointing.

“In here!” you call out despite your reluctance, your feet kicked up on the table in front of you, and you fold your arms across your chest.

“The fuck is everyone else?” The imp demands as he enters.

“On a Sunday? D’you really think M&M are gonna come in on their day off just to hear you brag about how you fucked the prince again?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t ya?” he shoots back.

You wave a hand at the stack of papers piled up beside your shoes. “I pulled the short straw on paperwork this month. You’d remember that if you weren’t so busy thinking with your dick all the time.”

He narrows his eyes at you for a moment before shrugging and rounding the table to take his own seat at the head of it. You smack away the spade of his tail as it comes up to caress your cheek mockingly as he passes, and he snickers.

“Guess you’ll have to do, then. You wanna hear the panty-droppin’ play-by-play, or you want me to just tell you the gushiest top ten?”

You sigh heavily. “I’ve got work to do, Blitzø.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, tail waving back and forth behind him. A downright evil grin plays across his features and he sing-songs, “Ooh, someone’s jealous.”

“Oh, sure,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just sit here all day, pining and completely wet with jealousy because you’re off fucking the owl instead of me. It’s a miracle I wasn’t just getting myself off right here thinking about it.”

Blitzø cocks an eyebrow, his gaze sliding down over your body. It lingers at where your thighs are pressed together, your knees against the edge of the table. He smirks up at you from under his brows when his eyes return to your face. “Hey, tits, don’t let me stop you. You wanna rub one out thinking about Stolas squirmin’ on my thick co—”

“For the love of Satan, please shut up.” you say dryly, and Blitzø cackles. “Besides, if you were half as good as you think you are, you wouldn’t constantly feel the need to tell us about it.”

The imp scoffs, sneering. “Bitch, I’m twice as good as I think I am.” He jabs a finger at you, tossing his sunglasses onto the table in front of him. “You might know that if you ever unwadded your panties from your ass long enough to have some fun.”

“Because ‘fun’ automatically translates to getting naked with you.”

He shrugs a shoulder, that infuriating, knowing smirk still in place. “Don’t have to be naked. Got plenty of things I could do to you without takin’ off a thread, and you’d still be gaggin’ for more. Besides, you’re so hard up and overdue for a good bone sesh that I bet I could get you beggin’ for it just as much as Birdy-boy does in half the time.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to deadpan despite the way his words have sent heat rushing through your body to warm your belly and your cheeks. Instead, you lower your feet to the floor, pointedly dragging your paperwork across the table towards you. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, boss.”

“Hey!” he jabs his finger at you again, standing up so he can plant a hand on the table and lead towards you. “I don’t come in here and question your skill in the sack!”

“You just told me I was hard up!”

“Yeah, but that ain’t because of your…” he stops, eyes widening. A broad grin widens over his features as realization hits him and you hold back a grimace. “You had a date last night!”

Damnit Millie. “I—”

He pouts at you mockingly, leaning closer to you and further into your personal space. It’s getting harder to avoid his eye. “What’s the matter, sugartits? Did they get your motor runnin’ then fail to deliver all the rough and tumble you wanted? They get you all hot and bothered, all ready to beg for it like a good little slut and then leave you high and completely fucking dry?”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, pointedly trying to ignore the insinuation. Because fuck the bastard, but he’s right… and something in his tone is really starting to send a prickling over your skin that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Blitzø’s smile widens, darkening into something seductive as he moves around to your side of the table. He spins your chair towards him, taking hold of your knees and pressing them far enough apart to step up between them. You feel your face flush further. “Don’t avoid the question.”

You roll your eyes again, hands curling into fists in your lap as he leans ever closer into your personal space. His claws are still wrapped around your knees, and you feel them smooth up your thighs at a glacial pace. “Fuck, Blitzø, you’re such a fucking—”

His mouth meets your roughly, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s hard and angry and hot, and he kisses you with enough force to press you back into the chair and knock the air out of your lungs. His hands are still on your thighs, and you feel his claws tighten on your flesh. Your curse yourself when you hear a whine slip out of you, and even muffled by his mouth, you just know he hears it too.

When he breaks the kiss you inhale sharply, and he only moves back to meet your eye again. His claws skim over the inside of your thighs tauntingly, and even through your jeans, it makes you shudder the closer he gets to the apex of your thighs.

“So,” Blitzø says, and the sudden huskiness to his voice makes you swallow. His tail is switching back and forth behind him, an almost predatory edge to the movement. There’s a challenge in his eyes, and despite everything, it thrills you. “You wanna fuck me or not?”

You exhale a breath in the hopes of steadying yourself. He knows the effect he’s having on you, the cocky bastard. “…You’re gonna be fucking insufferable either way, aren’t you?’

He nods slowly, that irritating, self-assured smile widening slightly.

You sigh, reaching up to take hold of the lapel of his jacket. He snickers as you tug him roughly back towards you.

“You know if you suck, I’m never gonna let you live it down, right?”

Blitzø’s attention has already dropped to your front, his fingers releasing your thighs to instead slowly unbutton your shirt. You shiver as his claws just ghost against your sternum as they move. “You gonna talk this much during?”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

 He spreads your shirt open, walking his fingers idly up your stomach. He palms your breast suddenly, grin widening as your breath hitches when he squeezes.

“Seriously, though, might wanna save your breath.” he continues, pinching your nipple hard. He grins when you jerk at the sudden pain. “’Cause you’re gonna need those lungs for all the ways you’re gonna wanna scream my name.”

“Ugh, you’re such a—”

Blitzø’s mouth is on yours again before you can finish the insult, one hand still on your breast. His other hand bunches in your hair, forcing your head back almost painfully. He bites at your bottom lip before his mouth moves lower, teeth and tongue teasing at your throat. His fangs graze your pulse point, and you hiss at the pain of it, feeling blood well up against your skin. His tongue slides over the same spot, and he purrs.

His other hand tugs the cup of your bra down to bare the soft flesh to the cold air and to him, palming it roughly. You arch under his touch, tightening your hand on his lapel and tugging him closer. Blitzø chuckles against your neck, straddling your thigh, and you shove his jacket off his shoulders.

“Shoulda known you’d be an eager little slut,” he mutters against your collarbone and you take his face in your hands, bringing him back into another heady kiss. One hand moves up to flick fingers over the spines between his horns, and he groans into your mouth. “Just like Stolas… you uptight bitches are always—”

“Shut the fuck up, Blitzø,” you snap back at him, taking hold of his horn as his mouth returns to your throat and lower, lips sucking a mark into the curve where your neck meets your collarbone.

He grinds down against your thigh and you thrill at the feeling of his hardening cock against you. When his tongue finds your nipple, you gasp.

“Nope,” he replies simply, annoyingly self-assured, his breath teasing the damp flesh of your breast. Your nipple tightens further under the caress of it. He cups a hand between your thighs, rubbing it roughly against your denim-covered cunt.  He toys with it through your pants for a moment, pulling his hand away as soon as a moan slips past your lips. “Now, get your hot little ass up, slut. Supplies are in my office.”

“The fuck do you need supplies for?!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Holy fuck, Blitzø!” you buck up into his mouth, eyes rolling back.

He’s got you spread out on the desk, your hands bound up with rope and tied to the base of the legs at one end. The length of the rope has forced your hands up over your head, the ache in your biceps completely eclipsed by the sensations between your thighs. Blitzø is kneeling between them, his tail wrapped tightly around one and his hand around the other, your knees thrown over his shoulders. He’s lifted you up off the desk so all your weight is balanced on your shoulder blades, his other hand wrapped around your stomach to reach his claws between your thighs to torture your clit.

His tongue is deep inside your cunt, the sound of his feasting on you the only thing competing with your moaning. Blitzø groans into you, and you swear you can feel his smirk when you try to grind your pussy up against his mouth, hindered by the position he has you in. His tongue finds your g-spot and you whimper brokenly, teeth digging hard into your lip. You can feel your own release dripping down between the cheeks of your ass; you’ve come three times already, and your entire body is shuddering with the stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you chant through gritted teeth, brow furrowed. Blitzø is watching you from beneath his brows, eyes hooded and his claws tightening on your thigh. You strain against the ropes, the threads of it digging into your wrists, and he grins against your cunt, his tongue pressing against your g-spot just as he pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck!”

You cum again, hips jerking under his touch, desperate to get away from his torturous tongue.

You hate yourself a little for admitting, “Blitzø… I can’t…”

He snickers, flicking his tongue over your clit as he withdraws it. “Aw, c’mon, sugar. Birdy made it all the way to six before he was tapping out and begging for me to finally give him my sweet cock. You can last longer than that, can’t you, slut?”

The spade of his tail slides over your clit, and you twitch. You know he’s goading you but you can’t help but clench your jaw petulantly and nod, and he grins up at you.

“That’s a good girl,” he tells you huskily and you whimper as his breath teases over your swollen clit. He raises a brow. “Ohhh, you liked that, huh? You like being a good girl for daddy.”

You glare up at him even as you feel your face flush with heat.

“You do,” he continues cockily, tongue touching your clit for a moment and you shiver. “You love being daddy’s good little slut, don’t you?”

“If you…” you say breathlessly. “…If you need a breather, Blitzø, you can just say that.”

He snorts, squeezing your ass. “Uh, uh, tits. You wanna another round, I need to hear you say it.”

“Satan, you’re an asshole.”

“Yup,” he replies, ever so slowly circling your clit with his thumb. You exhale shakily. “Now say it. Tell me you’ll be a good little slut.”

You force yourself to heave an impatient sigh, trying to inject as much impatience into your voice as possible. Still, despite your efforts it comes out breathy and shuddering. “I’ll… I’ll be a good slut for you… daddy.”

Blitzø’s grin widens victoriously and he rewards you by returning his tongue to your cunt, and your head falls back against the desk. Your chest heaves as he quickly works you undone again, two fingers pressing into you.

“Alright, alright, don’t embarrass yourself, tits.” he tells you tauntingly.

“Go fuck yourself, Blitzø.”

“Heh.” he chuckles obnoxiously. “Keep talkin’ dirty like that and I might just leave you all trussed up and pretty like this for M&M to find tomorrow morning.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Fuck, you’ve got a slutty little mouth,” Blitzø groans as you swallow around him, choking slightly as the head of his cock brushed the back of your throat. “Satan’s taint, listen to you. You’ve been holdin’ back on me, pretendin’ to be all innocent.”

You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t choose that moment to thrust hard into your mouth, the length of him sliding against your tongue. You curl it obediently around him as he does, and his eyes roll back for a moment.  He’s kneeling between your bound arms, watching with hooded eyes as your throat bulges each time he fucks himself into your mouth. You can barely breath; you find yourself lightheaded even as you suck at his cock eagerly.

You’d just barely made it to eight orgasms without blacking out before he’d finally let up, childishly determined to take more than he’d expected. It had left you sweaty and aching against the desk, and you could still feel a small pool of your own cum against your ass as you’d finally been allowed to relax your hips down against the wood.

Blitzø has claws fisted in your hair, and you whine around him as he reaches down to squeeze your breast, pinch your nipples. Every now and then he lets the spade of his tail brush over your clit, and he snickers when it makes you jerk and gag around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand leaving your nipple to take hold of your throat. He can feel his cock thrusting beneath your skin, and he squeezes, grinning devilishly as you let out a choking moan. “Baby likes being choked, too, huh? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

Blitzø plays with you like that for who knows how long, withdrawing his cock from your mouth just long enough for you to pull air into your lungs with a desperate inhale before he presses in again. You’re drooling and whimpering, body quaking against the desk as his tail starts teasing your clit again in earnest.

Your hips buck up under his ministrations, and Blitzø doesn’t stop until you gag in earnest, pulling out and smirking as you cough.

“That’s my girl.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Blitzø’s cock slides into your cunt slowly and you whimper at the feeling of it, eyes squeezed closed.

He’d watched, annoyingly amused, as you’d caught your breath, sitting back on his heels over you. Then he’d surprised you by producing bottled water when he’d untied you.

Still, he’d barely given you more than a minute before he was urging you to roll over onto your knees. He’d wrapped the rope around your thighs before retying your wrists, tightening it until it forced your thighs apart. The way he’d tied you forced you to sit with your back arched slightly, your kiss-bruised breasts on full display as you knelt on the hard wood. You’d normally find yourself embarrassed by the way you were exposed, but the way he watched you, admired you, instead made your mind spin and your heart throb in your chest.

You’d heard his belt buckle clink at he unfastened his pants behind you, surprising you by pressing an almost tender kiss to the side of your throat. His claws ghosted over your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Always knew you’d look good on your knees, baby.”

You’d turned your head as he had, catching him in a kiss that was all tongue and still-desperate need. He’d groaned into it, letting it linger for a few long moments before he finally broke away again. Now, he’s laid out beneath you, his hands clutching at your hips as he lowers you onto his cock. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back as he bottoms out inside you. His pelvic bone brushes against your clit and you whine. Blitzø echoes the sound with a growl.

“Holy shit, sugar,” he grunts, flexing his claws against your flesh. “Holy fucking shit, didn’t know someone could feel this fucking good…”

He urges you into riding him slowly, his claws trailing over the ropes crisscrossing the flesh of your thighs. The way Blitzø watches you grind over his lap sends sparks through you in ways you don’t want to address and your hands strain against the ropes with the sudden urge to touch him.

You want to see how he’ll react to your hands running over his sides, your nails scratching over his nipples. How he’d react to your hands gripping at his horns as you ride him. And you want to kiss him again, you want to trail your lips over his throat and feel his pulse under your tongue.

You want to work him undone that same way he has you.

Blitzø pushes his hips up into yours, hand retaking your hip. His grip is harsh and demanding, claws digging so hard into your flesh you wouldn’t be surprised if it bruised. He’s watching your breasts hungrily as they bounce with every thrust he makes up into you, and the hand still on your thigh moves to tease your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Blitzø!” you cry out, voice rough with overuse and need. Your thighs tense, the rope digging further into your flesh. You’re so close to cumming again, and the fact that the ropes are stopping you from taking full control of the pace is driving you mad. “Fuck!”

“Fucking told you you’d be screamin’ my name,” he growls, head falling back against the desk. “Shit, you’re gonna feel so good gushin’ all over my cock, princess.”

You moan aloud, eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna need to hear you beg for it, remember?” he tells you, his voice breaking slightly and you know he’s close too. He pinches your clit, his tail wrapping itself around your middle. “C’mon… be a good slut and beg…”

You’re almost sure he’s so far gone that all you’d have to do is wait and he’d cum before he got what he wanted, but you need to cum too; you’re so close that your jaw clenches and your toes are curling. So, you give him what he wants. What you both need.

“Please, Blitzø…” you whine, eyes meeting his. “Please, I need to… I wanna feel you cum, Blitzø…”

He moans, claws quickening against your clit. The two of you actually cum together, his hips thrusting hard up into you. You can feel tears in your eyes as your orgasm wash through you, your chest heaving.

The two of you stay frozen like that for a while after he slumps back down against the desk, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You close your eyes, shuddering with each exhale.

Your eyes snap open again as you hear the shutter effect of his phone’s camera.

“The fuck did you just take a picture of?”

He grins lazily up at you, turning his phone so you can see. The photo shows his hips framed by your thighs; your cunt still stuffed full of his cock. Only the base of his cock is visible, his cum drawing lines down it as it leaks out of you.

You jerk your wrists against the ropes, the movement making you whimper as you accidently squeeze your over-sensitized cunt around him. He snickers, the sound breaking off as his eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Delete it, Blitzø.”

He shakes his head. “Are you kidding? You’re pure spank bank, tits.” his smile widens. “Speakin’ of…”

He snaps another photo, this one aimed high to capture the curve of your breasts. There are makes littering the soft flesh, let behind by his teeth and lips, and the spade of his tail has come up to rest its tip against your nipple.

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“Don’t I know it.” he replies nonchalantly. You feel his tail unwind itself from your stomach and he frees your wrists. The rope slackens immediately around your thighs, your legs prickling with pins and needles as blood returns to them. He rubs his hands over the flesh to help the blood flow. “And you fuckin’ love it.”

“‘Love’s a strong word for it,” you reply dryly, massaging one of your wrists with your other hand.

“Yeah, but it’s a four-letter word,” he says, tossing his phone over his shoulder towards his clothes and propping himself up on his elbows. You can feel him softening inside you as he hands you the water bottle. “I don’t even know how many letters are in ‘get all hot and drippy over it’.”

“Twenty-four.” you say almost immediately, taking a sip of water. You offer it to him; you can feel his tail brushing back and forth against your calf. It feels strangely, surprisingly normal to be still straddling his lap, naked and breathless, and you try not to let yourself question it.

“Freak.”

You smile softly to yourself at the fact that he’s managed to try and insult you even as he takes hold of your wrists and uses his thumbs to rub sensation back into them. He doesn’t even really seem to be aware that he’s doing it.

“You know I’m not helping you clean up this mess, right?”

Blitzø snorts, grinning up at you. “What makes you think I wanna clean up? How’s anyone gonna believe you let me rock your fuckin’ world if they don’t see the evidence? And you know I fuckin’ did.”

“Don’t get too cocky about it, Blitzø.” you shoot back. “How d’you know I wasn’t just faking it so I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Heh. ‘Cocky.” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Tell what’s left of your voice you were fakin’ it.”

“You’re so—”

Blitzø reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down into another fiery kiss. Your back aches as its finally allowed to bend that way again, but you barely register it with the way his tongue feels sliding against yours.

“Sexy? Fuckable?” Blitzø suggests against your mouth. “Ready for round two?”

You giggle despite yourself, letting your forehead bump against his. When you pull away, he’s smiling like he’s pleased with himself for making you laugh. “You might be, but I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Alright,” he tells you, his tail grazing over your thigh. “But I’m countin’.”

[shixcherie]

Gut Feelings Got Me Here (pt.1) | Song Mingi ☆

◂◂ Part one of Little Miss Strategist series ▸▸

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List | Little Miss Strategist series (coming soon...)

☆ Day 28 : Impact Play

↬ [ Synopsis ] : As a princess, you were not accustomed to hearing “NO” from anyone in the kingdom. That changed when you had your first encounter with Mingi, the royal sculptor, whose silent, mysterious, and dark personality drew you in like a curious kitten. Will curiosity kill this kitten, or will a love so powerful emerge from all the painfully pleasurable and torturous intimacy that even death itself would step aside?

☆Word Count : 11.6k (yup, i went fucking overboard..sry ;P) ☆Genre : Smut with alot of plot, Angst, Royal Au, Historical Au. ☆Pairing : Royal Sculptor! Mingi x Youngest Princess! F.Reader

☆☆☆ WARNINGS : mdni!, Historical setting, Pure Smut(18+), some royal-ish plot, impact play, Reader is masochist while Mingi is sadistic, pain play, angsty atmosphere, knife usage (mild), mentions of blood, Mingi is holding a secret , bondage, use of bondage gear, oral (ffem recieving), Mingi is tough nut to crack, reader is a menace but quite intelligent (when the situation demands), praise, pet names ( darling, little princess, honey) mentions of traumatic past, deadly royal punishments, self submission, pain play, nipple play, something secret plans are being carried out against the royal family.

NOTE : Yes… I’m going to continue and complete Kinktober, even though we’re way past the 31st. I really want to finish this challenge and not leave it incomplete, so I hope ma chéries will enjoy this royal love between a princess and the royal sculptor.

p.s: I was gonna post this on 15th nov but then my brain went "no no no...add more stuff!" so i-uhh well..fucking did that and now its kinda super duper long.

↬ Also, turning this into a mini series cuz I cannot for the sake of my freaking life write a plot heavy one shot..so hope you will become a part of this mini series. Enjoy ma chéries.

The grand hall glowed under the soft light of lanterns wrapped in red and gold silk, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Ornate wooden screens, carved with intricate dragons and phoenixes lined the walls, while tall pillars adorned with lotus flowers and mythical creatures stretched up toward the ceiling. The faint scent of sandalwood and jasmine lingered in the air, carried by the smoke of incense burning in bronze holders.

Members of the court gathered quietly, their rich robes were a sea of deep greens, dark blues, and royal reds, each shimmering with golden and silver embroidery.

All eyes were fixed on the man in the center of the room, the royal sculptor, Song Mingi. The fifth-generation sculptor of the Song lineage knelt on a woven mat, working carefully on a block of marble. With each tap of his chisel, he carved a likeness of your mother, the Empress. His movements were slow and deliberate, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

Seated near the front, you tried to maintain a composed expression, though your patience was starting to wear thin. Art could be beautiful, yes, but this endless tapping and chiseling ? It felt tedious, even unnecessary. You had far more interest in the kingdom’s politics and the strategies behind running the empire. The court’s art was all well and good, but it wasn’t what you spent your time studying.

You glanced at your father, the Emperor, dressed in indigo royal robe embroidered with golden dragons. His expression was one of complete absorption, as if he had no other thought in the world.

“What an exquisite talent,” he murmured, his deep voice carrying through the hall.

Beside him, your eldest brother, Chan, nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on Mingi. “Indeed, Father. Each stroke reveals more than just an image. It’s as if he’s capturing mother’s essence.”

Your mother, the Empress, wore a faint smile, her hair pinned with golden lotus-shaped pins that shimmered in the warm light. Her expression softened as she gazed upon the developing sculpture. “To see beyond the stone… It takes more than just talent,” she remarked. “It’s rare to find an artist who can capture not just a face, but the spirit within.”

Another tap of the chisel. You fought the urge to sigh. It’s just a statue, you thought. Why does it need all this reverence or this much silence?

The Emperor leaned forward, his voice both commanding and gentle. “Mingi,” he called, drawing the sculptor’s attention. “You capture the likeness with great skill. But tell me, what is it that inspires you ?”

There was a slight pause before Mingi looked up from his work, meeting the Emperor’s gaze. His expression was unreadable, the lines of his face set in a stoic mask. His deep voice was low, but steady. “Your Majesty,” he replied, “the Empress’s strength and loyalty to the kingdom… these are what guide my hand. Only by capturing the heart behind the face can the sculpture come to life.”

Another long pause, and Mingi returned to his chisel, not showing the slightest sign of being affected by the royal presence. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Strength, loyalty, heart… How dramatic, you thought, tapping your fingers restlessly against the chair.

If I had that much time on my hands, I could come up with something more exciting to focus on, like the political affairs in the council.

Your father’s voice cut through the stillness again, his tone suddenly darker, though you paid little attention to the words. “Mingi,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “you have until the end of the month to finish. I trust you understand the importance of the deadline.”

You didn’t hear the slight tightening of Mingi’s jaw, nor did you notice the brief flicker in his gaze. You were far too absorbed in your own thoughts, eyes glazing over as you glanced around the room, your patience stretching thin.

Another chisel tap. Another pause. You sighed, tapping your fingers lightly against the armrest of your chair.

How much longer could this go on ?

Mingi’s voice, calm and composed, replied in a steady rhythm, “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier with the exchange, a subtle shift that you couldn't quite place, but you remained too disinterested to care.

Your gaze wandered over the court members, the lavish tapestries, and the flickering lanterns, anything to distract you from the monotony of this sculpting demonstration. Your mother, beside you, seemed content enough, her gaze soft as she watched the work take shape. Your father, too, was absorbed, his eyes locked on the sculptor.

Why can’t they just see it for what it is ? you thought. A statue. A simple statue. What’s all the fuss about ?

You shifted in your seat, supressing a yawn as you leaned back. The tension in the room was palpable, but it had no effect on you. Whatever hidden meaning there was in your father’s words didn’t matter,not when the only thing you could focus on was the mind-numbing repetition of Mingi’s chisel.

The Emperor’s next words were softer, quieter, and you almost didn’t hear them. “Make sure you do not fail,” he said, his gaze lingering on Mingi, the weight of the statement settling into the silence.

Mingi responded with another brief, “I will not fail.”

The room returned to its tense stillness, but you were still lost in your own boredom, oblivious to the gravity of the exchange. It was a moment that would have been heavy with meaning for anyone paying attention, but to you, it was just another moment in an endless sea of dull ones.

Chan noticed, a quiet chuckle slipping from him. Leaning toward you, he whispered, “Finding this all a bit dull, little sister?”

You shot him a wry smile, grateful for the distraction. “Is it that obvious ? I mean, I don’t see how you and Father find all this so thrilling.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Art is more than just entertainment. Discipline, focus… there’s beauty in it.”

You tried to look thoughtful but knew you probably just looked bored. “Maybe. But why does he have to be so serious ? It’s just a statue.”

Your mother’s soft voice caught you off guard. “One day, my dear, you may find that focus and patience are beautiful in their own right. There is a quiet power in restraint.”

You gave her a polite nod, but inside, you couldn’t help but disagree. Your gaze returned to Mingi, who was still working with that infuriatingly stoic expression, seemingly oblivious to the admiration around him. It was as though he existed on another plane, one where he didn’t feel the need to acknowledge anyone watching him. He was as much a part of the stone as he was its sculptor. Hard, unmoved, and silent.

You slumped back in your seat, determined to endure this as best you could. But for all your efforts to ignore him, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.

Who was this man, this royal sculptor, who could stand so unmoved before the royal family ?

As soon as the sculpting session concluded, you leapt from your seat, eager for a more exciting ways to spend your time. A group of maids hurried after you, struggling to keep up as you moved from room to room, as each maid follow behind you. They whispered gentle protests as you made your rounds, but they knew better than to try stopping you. Even when they did, you always managed to slip past them with a playful grin on your face which was both charming and unstoppable.

Being the youngest of the three royal children, you were treated with an abundance of care, and no request that left your lips was ever refused. As the Emperor’s darling little princess, you were never burdened with any royal duties. You were your mother’s most precious child, especially since you had been born premature and required constant attention from the very beginning. This made your parents cherish you even more.

Though all this love and attention spoiled you, it also motivated to gain knowledge in various fields. Growing up, you observed your eldest brothers, Chan and Minho, as they became powerful figures. Chan, the Crown Prince, was groomed to rule, while Minho served as the Kingdom’s general, leading the army at the northern borders of your vast kingdom.

As their baby sister, you were showered with love and affection, and they never hesitated to help you with your studies.

Breezing from one room to room, nothing seemed to peak your interest until you reached the royal kitchen, where two of your favorite chefs , Wooyoung and Yunho were engrossed in preparing the dessert for the royal banquet.

The smell of sweet pastries and savory stews filled the air while Yunho and Wooyoung were absorbed in their work, carefully arranging fruit tarts and custard buns on silver trays. As you tiptoed up behind them, your maids tried to hold you back, whispering, “Princess, please, the chefs are busy preparing for the banquet…”

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” you said brightly, startling Wooyoung so much that he almost sent the whipped cream flying.

“Princess!” he gasped, clutching his chest. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”

“Oh, Wooyoung, you’re too jumpy,” you laughed, sneaking a finger into a bowl of honeyed custard. “And who could resist all these treats ?”

Yunho gave you a playful glare. “And there goes the custard,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You’ll spoil your appetite before dinner, princess.”

“Not if I keep it a secret from everyone,” you replied slyly, reaching for a spoonful of candied fruit.

With mock horror, Wooyoung moved to block the tray of ingredients. “No, no, no! You’ve already sabotaged half our desserts!”

You leaned in close, smirking. “Not my fault, its just that my favorite chefs make the best deserts in the world that I can’t contain myself.”

Yunho chuckled and shook his head. “Remind me never to let you in here while we’re working.” He tried to shoo you out, but you swiped one last piece of fruit, grinning triumphantly as you left the kitchen, their playful grumbles reaching your ears as you walked to the banquet with your maids trailing behind as they sighed at your antics.

The royal banquet in evening was a grand success, with the chefs’ culinary creations earning well-deserved praise. You swarmed through the crowd, exchanging warm greetings with friends and royal guests from neighboring kingdoms. All the while, you felt Chan’s watchful gaze on you, ensuring you wouldn't try any mischief in the midst of the gathering.

As you savored the delicious food, your eyes landed on Mingi, the royal sculptor who was standing a corner, but he was not alone. He was deep in conversation with an elderly man who looked to be a high-ranking official. The discomfort on Mingi’s face was unmistakable, and there was a hint of fear in his eyes as he listened to the older man. His hands fidgeted nervously, confirming your suspicions.

What is wrong with him ? Who is that official ? Why does he look so scared ?

Your thoughts were interrupted and your feet lifted off the ground, when your second brother, Minho, swooped you up into his arms. You gasped, playfully swatting at his shoulder.

“Brother!” you gasped, squirming in his grip. “When did you get back ? And put me down, would you ? What kind of behavior is this ?”

Minho only laughed, ignoring your protests as he carried you effortlessly through the crowd. “What, no warm welcome for your favorite brother ?”

“You’re the general, for heaven’s sake!” you huffed, still trying to wriggle free.

But your attempts were futile as Minho simply laughed and carried you through the crowd, drawing amused glances from nearby guests who were well-accustomed to his playful antics. He winked at you before delivering you directly to your mother, where the two of you were swept into the flow of conversation with family and friends.

The concerning thoughts about Mingi faded to the back of your mind as night settled around you.

—

The next day you embarked on another one of your side quest. On your way you passed Mingi’s sculpting chamber, he was carefully chipping and giving a shape to yet another statue. His face as usual was stoic, giving away no emotion as he engrossed in his work.

As you were about to leave for the training grounds, a small scar on his hand caught your eye, it was definitely from working on the sculptor. Suddenly his scared face from the yesterday’s banquet flashed infront of your face as you slip into deep thoughts.

Why be soo serious and engrossed in a work of this sort where you don’t even have time to take care of yourself ? You thought before making your way to the training grounds.

Carefully skipping the Apothecary in the way, where the royal doctor Yeosang, who also happens to be your master who taught you medicine was busy working with some herbs. Quietly, you slipped out to the training grounds, where San and Jongho, your brother Minho’s right-hand men, were practicing their sword skills.

Their movements sharp and focused, their wooden practice swords clacking as they clashed. As you approached,your maids came running to you, whispering, “Princess, it’s dangerous…” You thought you had sneakily escaped their watchful eyes.

“Go easy on him, Jongho! He’s not used to winning!” you cheered from the sidelines.

San’s face twisted in a mixture of shock and slight annoyance as he looked over his shoulder. “Princess! Are you here to distract us or give encouragement?”

“Oh, I’m here to keep things interesting,” you replied, grinning.

Jongho chuckled and gestured for you to join. “How about you, Princess ? Want to show us your swordsmanship ?”

You raised your hands, laughing. “I wouldn’t want to kingdom in your safe hands”

You clapped your hands, watching as the two resumed their practice, but you couldn’t help tossing out little comments to keep them on their toes. “Jongho, don’t let San get the better of you! And San, maybe try not falling for the same move twice?”

San sighed in mock defeat. “I’d be doing so much better if I didn’t have a certain royal running commentary,” he muttered, though the glint in his eyes said he didn’t mind one bit.

As they resumed their sparring, the faint smile did not leave their lips despite their best efforts to focus. The maids behind you exchanged worried looks, but they knew better than to interrupt. They could only sigh as you moved on to go back to your chambers in order to do your daily studies.

On the way to your chambers, you noticed the royal apothecary doors were open, and with Yeosang nowhere in sight, you welcomed yourself inside despite your maids’ protests urging you to go back to your room.

After about thirty minutes, you emerged from the apothecary, casually wiping your hands clean. Just then, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Princess,” Yeosang’s calm yet stern tone stopped you in your tracks. You turned, attempting an innocent smile as he raised an eyebrow at you. “And where were you today instead of attending our teaching session ?”

“Oh… umm… I was just studying in the library,” you replied, attempting to sound convincing. “Librarian Seonghwa gave me a few books about political alliances and strategies… so…” You tried to keep a straight face, concealing the fact that you had actually been at the training grounds with San and Jongho.

Your maid sighed behind you, which caught Yeosang’s attention, but he let it go this time.

Yeosang’s gaze narrowed as he looked at the apothecary, then back at you. “And what exactly were you doing inside the apothecary?”

“Oh… well, I was just… um… looking for some rare herbs…umm.. for tea! Yes, I wanted to surprise my mother with a new blend,” you replied, hoping it sounded convincing.

Yeosang’s expression softened slightly. “Alright. That’s good. But try not to skip the class again,” he said, his tone both kind and unwavering.

With a sheepish nod, you promised to be there next time before making a quick escape.

Meanwhile, far from the apothecary, Mingi sat in his sculpting chamber. A small jar of ointment had arrived, sealed with the royal doctor’s distinctive stamp. Attached was a short note, instructing him on how to apply it to reduce scarring.

Mingi turned the jar in his hands, his brow furrowing as he wondered who could have sent it, especially with such precise instructions. Deciding not to question the gesture, he applied the ointment to his scarred hand, feeling a faint relief as the cool medicine soothed his skin. Setting the jar aside, he resumed his work, his usual stoic focus slowly returning.

—

Next morning, the palace courtyard bustled with the lively early morning activity, sunlight filtering through the trees and casting long shadows on the stone path. You were just moments away from the library for your morning session with Seonghwa, the royal librarian and your master who taught you royal etiquettes, when a familiar voice cut through the air.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to see a frowning Minister Hongjoong and your brother Minho who was lounging in a chair with a smug grin on his face. A finished chess game board rested between them.

“Well, if it isn’t our little strategist,” Hongjoong greeted, his tone light but laced with frustration. His brow was furrowed in a mix of annoyance and amusement, clearly because Minho had bested him again.

You greeted them both, and Hongjoong glanced at the chessboard between them, shaking his head. “That’s eight matches, and eight losses. I’m beginning to think your brother is impossible to beat.”

Minho smirked, leaning back in his chair with a confident grin. “Impossible ? Not at all, Minister. Maybe you just need someone who won’t make it so difficult for you.” He glanced at you with a teasing gleam in his eye. “My sister, perhaps ?”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Your sister ? Do you really think she'd be an easier challenge?"

Minho laughed softly, clearly enjoying the banter. “I’m pretty sure she’ll be just as much of a handful as me, but who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky."

Hongjoong’s eyes sparkled with challenge as he turned to you. “Oooooh ? Is that so ? Well then, Princess, how about a match?”

“I’m so sorry, Minister Hongjoong, but I have to be in the library. Master Seonghwa will be very angry if I skip the lesson,” you tried to excuse yourself.

But Hongjoong pressed, “I’ll speak with Seonghwa, don’t worry, Princess Y/n. Defeat me, and I’ll grant you three wishes of your choosing.”

“Three wishes ?” you repeated, lifting an eyebrow as you exchanged a glance with Minho, whose smirk widened at the challenge.

Minho chuckled softly, thoroughly entertained. “Oh, don’t worry, Minister. It’ll be over in minutes. Today your luck seems extra bad with chess.”

Hongjoong’s pride flared at Minho’s words, and his smile sharpened. “Perhaps you are too confident in your sister’s abilities. I won’t make it easy.”

Minho leaned in, his voice thick with playful mockery. “Don’t go easy on her, Hongjoong. It’ll make it all the more fun when she beats you.”

The gauntlet was thrown, and there was no turning back now. You took a steady breath and nodded, accepting the challenge.

“Alright, three wishes if I win,” you agreed as your pulse quickened. The game began with the pieces set on the board.

As the game unfolded, Hongjoong’s moves were calculated, each one sharp and deliberate, his gaze never wavering. You matched his intensity, your mind working at its full speed, weighing every possibility.

But as you considered your next move, something caught your attention.

Across the courtyard, Mingi stood in quiet conversation with the same high-ranking official you had seen at the banquet. His posture was tense, his usually stoic expression strained, and the exchange between them seemed uneasy like something was off. Mingi’s hands fidgeted, and the official leaned in close, his words low and firm. Mingi’s eyes flicked away, his jaw clenched before he nodded reluctantly.

Your heart skipped a beat. Why does he look so unsettled ? The uneasy feeling you’d dismissed at the banquet two nights ago resurfaced, gnawing at you as you watched him, unaware of Minho’s watchful gaze on you, as your eyes lingered on the royal sculptor.

“Princess ?” Hongjoong’s voice cut through, drawing you back to the game. His brow was furrowed, waiting for your move.

You focused back on the board, shaking off the unease that had distracted you, and locked into the game again. The moves began to fall into place, and soon Hongjoong’s defenses started to crack. His confidence wavered as the pieces shifted in your favor.

It was clear that Hongjoong had no chance of winning now. His gaze hardened while Minho chuckled beside you. With swift precision, you moved your bishop into place, trapping his king in the corner, making it impossible for him to escape.

“Checkmate,” you said softly, meeting the Minister’s gaze, victory twinkling in your eyes.

Hongjoong stared at the board, disbelief flashing across his face. Minho burst into laughter, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, completely unfazed.

“See, Minister ? I told you it’d be over in minutes,” he teased, his grin wide. “Looks like my little sister knows a thing or two after all.” He reached over to gently ruffle your hair as he admired your game.

Hongjoong managed a faint chuckle, though the blow to his pride was clear. “Well played, Princess. I seem to have underestimated you,” he said.

Minho didn’t miss a beat. “Better luck next time, Hongjoong,” he teased. “Perhaps you should find a gentler opponent next time.”

Hongjoong gave a rueful smile. “I’ll remember that, General.” he muttered. “And as promised, Princess, three wishes are yours to command. Use them wisely.”

As Hongjoong walked away, Minho leaned in with a grin, his voice low but amused. “Impressive work,” he murmured. “Just don’t ask for anything too easy. Okay?”

You smiled slyly in return. “I’ll make of that.”

But as Hongjoong disappeared into the distance, your gaze drifted back to where Mingi had stood. The unease that had been creeping up on you during the game returned, stronger now. There was something more to his conversation with the official, something you didn’t fully understand.

What was going on? And why did Mingi seem so unsettled? More importantly, why am I so concerned about him anyways ?

In the evening, after finishing your studies and wrapping up the day's tasks, you decided to take a stroll through the garden. The evening sky had begun to change, painted with soft oranges and purples as you savored the peacefulness that came with the beautiful sunset, with no maids trailing behind you. It was just you and the cool evening breeze, uninterrupted.

As you wandered, your gaze fell upon Mingi’s sculpting chamber, tucked away in a quiet corner of the palace. You had often wondered what went on behind its stone walls, curious about the man who worked in such isolation. Mingi rarely spoke to anyone, kept to himself, and seemed detached from the world around him.

You’d seen him pass by occasionally, his usually calm expression betraying nothing of the thoughts that lay beneath.

What was it that made him so distant ?

You had heard nothing concrete, but sometimes, when you caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability, there was an almost visible tension around him. It was as if there was a weight on his shoulders, as if something inevitable that he couldn’t escape was waiting for him. He was always buried in his work, meticulously carving away at his sculptures for the royal family and higher-ups.

But tonight, something felt different. A strange impulse stirred within you to check up on him, to see how he was doing. You knew he had been working tirelessly for days, never leaving the chamber except to eat or sleep, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the toll was starting to show.

Was his hand okay ? Has he eaten yet ? Why am I even concerned about him ? He never interested me in the first place, nor is sculpting any of my passions, so… why am I concerning myself with such trivial matters ? You brushed the thoughts off, thinking it was your doctor instincts kicking in.

With a steady breath, you approached the chamber door and pushed it open.

The air in Mingi’s workshop was thick with the scent of freshly carved stone and the faint scent of sweat from hours of labor. The light was dim, casting long shadows that stretched across the cold floor, making the room feel both alive and suffocating at the same time.

He stood at his workbench, eyes focused on the figure he was sculpting, the chisel in his hand moving with the kind of precision that only comes from years of practice.

But as always, he was alone.

You watched him for a moment, standing quietly in the doorway. There was something about him. Something so mysterious, withdrawn, that made you wonder why he kept so much to himself. The rumors swirled, of course, but none gave you a concrete reason for his strange demeanor.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

And your curiosity got the better of you.

“Are you always this quiet ?” you asked, your voice breaking the silence as you stepped into the room. You didn’t wait for an invitation as there was something about him that made you want to push, to question, even if it irritated him.

Mingi didn’t flinch. His chisel paused mid-stroke, but his eyes didn’t shift toward you. The only acknowledgment was the briefest tightening of his jaw, a hint of irritation that quickly disappeared.

“I don’t need company nor do I like talking.” he said flatly, not looking up. His voice was deep and rough, the words blunt, as though he had said them a thousand times before. There was a coldness in them that sent a chill through you, but it only piqued your curiosity more.

“But why ? You’re always alone. Always working.” You moved closer, your voice soft but insistent. “Why do you keep to yourself like this ?”

There was a flicker in his eyes before he turned to face you fully. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and intense. The room seemed to shrink, the weight of his stare pressing down on you, almost suffocating.

“Because it’s none of your business,” he said, his voice sharp, as though he’d spoken those words many times to keep others at bay.

You weren’t satisfied. Something in you itched to know more, to unravel the mystery behind his detached behavior. “I don’t buy that,” you said, your voice rising ever so slightly. “Everyone has a reason. What’s yours ? Why do you act like this ?”

“I just hate people.” Another one of his dry and sassy replies.

“How’s your hand ?” you asked, a slight concern in your tone as as your eyes flickered to his hand.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he replied slightly taken about by how you know about it but soon his voice went flat again. He rubbed the scared spot which seemed fine now but nervousness was evident in his body language as you mentioned his hands.

You caught it, the way his hand had trembled ever so slightly. His composure slipped, just for a moment, and that was enough to make you press harder.

“You don’t look fine,” you said, stepping closer, eyes narrowing at the sight of the cloth wrapped around his hand, a different spot from the scar though. “What’s going on with your hands, Mingi ?”

His jaw clenched tightly at your question, and for a split second, the room seemed to hold its breath. The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words, and then he stepped closer, blocking your view of his hand entirely.

“Please leave, Princess.” he warned, his voice low, dangerous.

But you didn’t listen. You stepped forward, your curiosity ignoring the obvious warning. “You’ve been hiding it, haven’t you? Your hands, what’s wrong with them ? I am studying medicine, maybe I can help.”

His eyes darkened, the usual calm of his demeanor replaced with a cold, calculating glare as his tone went a notch up. “I told you to leave. No one can help. So let me do my work.”

Hmm…what does he mean by “No one can help” ?

His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. Instead, you watched as the muscles in his neck tightened, his posture stiffening. You couldn’t quite place it, but something was eating at him, something far deeper than just the isolation he had wrapped around himself.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on ? Maybe I can help, you know I can talk to my father if someone is bothering you.” you said, your voice steady now, defying the uneasy feeling that crept through you as you refered to the higher up you had seen him with in the mroning.

The tension in the room grew unbearable, and with a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you into him. His grip was so tight it nearly crushed you as you both stood chest to chest, pressing as your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were wild now, filled with a fury you hadn’t expected.

“You should’ve left when I told you,” he growled, his voice low, deep, and raspy. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the heat of his anger, but you weren’t afraid. No, something darker stirred within you, something drawn to the rawness in his eyes, the power in his grip. It was a strange, almost magnetic force, something you hadn’t felt before.

You barely had time to register the position you both were in when something cold touched your skin, a knife against your throat, the cold steel barely grazing your skin.

“Don’t test me, Princess,” Mingi said, his voice almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver down your spine. “I won’t hesitate.”

The shock of the moment hit you harder than you expected as you stood there frozen, eyes locked onto his, the world around you fading, and it wasn’t just fear that kept you in place,it was something else.

Something thrilling. A craving, maybe. To be handled like this, with power, with rawness….with anger which was a stark contrast to how you were oh so gently taken care of by everyone around you.

“You’re playing with fire,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you stared at the knife. “Do it. I’m not afraid.”You challenged him wanting to see how far he is going to go.

But for a long, tense moment, Mingi didn’t move. His gaze never left yours, the silence in the room suffocating.

Giving him a smirk, you moved your neck slightly as the knife gave a small slit on your neck and blood spurted out, nothing dangerous enough to kill you but enough to make Mingi pull the knife away as his eyes widened at the crazy act you just pulled, his grip loosening on your wrist though the soft and concerning flicker of emotion that was in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you but he soon composed himself into the stoic and cold god he is.

“Leave,” he said, his voice cold again as he recovered from slight shock you just gave him.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t argue. You turned and walked out of the workshop, your heart racing in your chest, your mind swirling with the intensity of the moment. You had pushed him too far, and yet, you hadn’t felt more alive than you did right now. You fingers ran on your neck smearing the blood off. If your maids or anyone else see it, chaos would unfold which you not hoping to cause.

Walking towards your chambers, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Mingi’s silence than you had realized, a secret you were fully sure he was hiding the after witnessing the softness in his eyes, even for a brief moment, it was enough to pull you into his dark world.

What was he hiding ? Is anyone bothering him ? And why did the knife on my throat make my heart race… with thrill ? Did I like it, his anger, his rawness…why am I suddenly admiring such negative traits ?

—

After that night in Mingi’s chamber, you found yourself avoiding him. It wasn’t intentional, but your feelings were too tangled to face him. His dark aura, intense and commanding, had a magnetic pull. The way he handled you, in such raw and unflinching way was a stark contrast to the gentleness you were used to, leaving an impression you couldn’t shake.

Yeosang and Seonghwa tightened your schedule, leaving no room for wandering thoughts. Still, you noticed Mingi’s absence.

When you asked, Minister Hongjoong mentioned he’d gone home for urgent family matters. The news left an unexpected ache in your chest, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself it didn’t matter.

Yet, no matter how busy you kept yourself, thoughts of Mingi lingered. His raw presence had stirred something deep within you, something real but unsettling. It made you question everything you knew about your desires, even though you didn’t fully understand why.

So, you buried your feelings and focused on your studies, too afraid to confront them.

After a long day full of tasks, you found yourself in the library, hoping to find some peace among the books. Going near Mingi’s sculpting chamber would only make you think about him, and you weren’t ready for that yet. As you wandered through the shelves, trying to distract yourself, Hongjoong appeared, his footsteps soft but noticeable. He greeted you warmly, but his sharp eyes quickly caught the sadness in your expression.

"Is something troubling you Princess ?" he asked, his voice was gentle.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to share. Your thoughts were tangled, and you weren’t sure if it was wise to speak about what had been bothering you. You hadn’t fully understood it yourself, let alone said it aloud. Finally, you spoke carefully, leaving out the incident with the knife, unsure how to explain the confusion inside your head.

"It’s... Mingi," you said softly. "There’s something about him, the way he keeps his distance, his coldness... It’s not just how he acts. It feels like there’s more to it. I can’t shake the feeling that something happened to him, and I’m curious. What’s his story ?"

Hongjoong paused, thinking before speaking. "Mingi’s... been through a lot," he said carefully. "His family’s past is not something people talk about. But it’s shaped him. It’s a heavy burden he doesn’t show."

You nodded, trying to take it in. Hongjoong’s gaze softened, but he didn’t say more. You understood—he wasn’t going to share everything, at least not yet. Some things were better left unsaid until the right time.

Then, Seonghwa entered quietly, sensing the mood. He smiled softly, his eyes full of understanding as he spoke. "I see you’ve been thinking about Mingi a lot," he said. "What’s got you so curious ? You’ve never seemed interested before."

You faltered, not sure how to explain. Why had you suddenly been so affected by him ? You didn’t even understand it yourself. The more you thought about Mingi, the more unsettled you felt.

"I... don’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just feel like there’s something beneath all that coldness. Something that makes sense, but I can’t figure it out. I... I just want to understand him better. Just out of curiosity. You know how I am with that, Master Seonghwa.”

As you spoke, you felt a strange warmth in your chest, something you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t want to admit it, but a part of you was becoming more drawn to him, even though you weren’t sure why.

Was it pity ? Curiosity ? Or something deeper you weren’t ready to face ?

Seonghwa simply nodded as he was fully aware of how engrossed you become when you get curious about something but his gaze stayed on you, full of quiet understanding, and Hongjoong didn’t press further.

For now, they accepted your answer.

But as the conversation ended, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Mingi wasn’t just a distant figure anymore. He had somehow crept under your skin, leaving you more curious and maybe more invested than you wanted to admit.

—

Next morning, after breakfast, you went to find your brother, Minho, who was busy sorting through a stack of papers in the royal study. He glanced up when you entered, his brow furrowing slightly. Even before you spoke, you could tell he wasn’t going to like what you were about to ask.

“Minho,” you started, trying to sound casual, “I was hoping I could get your permission to visit Mingi’s sculpting chamber today.”

He looked up fully, his expression wary. “Mingi?” he repeated, his tone skeptical. “What for?”

You hesitated briefly, then gave your prepared excuse. “There’s a figurine Mother received from Mingi’s father. It’s cracked, and it’s very delicate. I was hoping he could repair it. His skills are unmatched—I don’t think anyone else could do it properly.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You’re asking to go alone, to Mingi, of all people?” His tone was light, but there was something sharp underneath it.

You smiled, trying to appear unfazed. “Yes, it’s nothing to worry about. I just need to handle this. I’ll be careful.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning your face. “Fine. But if anything happens—”

“I’ll be fine,” you said quickly. “Besides, you’re in charge of the kingdom right now with Chan and Father away. You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Minho paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll allow it. But be careful. Mingi is... unpredictable.” His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t push the issue.

With his reluctant permission, you left the room, a knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach.

__

The royal carriage rolled to a stop in front of Mingi's home, its wheels grinding against the gravel with a soft crunch. You stepped out, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. The air around you was still, and the quiet seemed too loud, almost deafening in its silence.

"Wait here for me at the corner of the road," you told the carriage driver, your voice was more serious than usual. "It might take a while."

The driver nodded, his face unreadable, and the carriage slowly rolled away, leaving you standing infront of of Mingi's property. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and made your way towards the door.

The door creaked open, revealing Mingi, his tall, broad frame filling the doorway. His dark eyes locked on you, their gaze sharp and assessing, but he said nothing at first. Behind him, the room was a befitting image of organisational chaos with sculpting tools scattered across a workbench, shards of marble dusted over the floor, and half-finished sculptures looming in various stages of creation.

“You came about the figurine,” Mingi said at last, his deep voice steady and calm.

Before visiting, you had sent him a letter, letting him know of your arrival. You waited for a few hours, expecting a refusal, but no reply ever came. That silence was all the answer you needed, and so you set out for his home.

“Yes,” you replied, holding out the small sculpture. It was a fragile piece, an intricate bird with its wings outstretched. “It’s my mother’s favorite. She would be heartbroken if it couldn’t be restored.”

Mingi stepped aside to let you in, his expression softening just slightly as he took the figurine from your hands. He turned it over carefully, his long fingers brushing along the cracked base and the damaged wing.

“It can be fixed,” he murmured, setting it down on the workbench. “The damage isn’t beyond repair, but it’ll take precision.”

You watched as he began gathering tools, his movements were methodical while his focus was intense. For the first time, he wasn’t keeping you at arm’s length. His quiet acknowledgment of your presence, of your request felt like a crack in the wall he had carefully built around himself.

“You’re truly gifted,” you said, your voice was barely above a whisper.

Mingi paused for a second, his fingers hovering over the delicate tools. “It’s not a gift,” he replied, his tone was thoughtful and gentle. “Just years of practice. Anyone could do it.”

“I doubt that,” you countered softly, catching a flicker of something in his expression — pride, perhaps, or even gratitude.

The moment was short-lived though.

Mingi’s shoulders tensed as his gaze snapped to the window. Following his line of sight, you spotted a figure striding toward the house with purpose. The official.The same one you had seen Mingi with in the banquet and during your chess match with Minister Hongjoong.

Mingi cursed under his breath, turning back to you with urgency in his eyes. “Hide. Now.”

“What ? Why ?”

“No time for questions.” His tone left no room for argument as he grabbed your arm and pulled you toward a door at the far end of the room. He opened it quickly, shoving you inside before shutting it firmly behind you.

You stumbled slightly, steadying yourself on the wall, and froze as you looked around.

The room was dimly lit, shadows flickering over walls lined with tools. Whips hung neatly alongside polished canes, their leather and wood gleaming faintly. Paddles of various shapes rested in perfect order, while chains with cuffs dangled from iron hooks. A dark wooden cross stood against one wall, its straps and buckles leaving no doubt about its use. Nearby, a leather bench with worn restraints sat waiting. The air was thick with the scent of leather, and the space exuded power and intimacy, every detail carefully curated for impact. A shiver ran down your spine as you took it all in.

Is this what he is really into ? Your cheeks flustered at the thought of those stuff used upon you by him. You shook your head as the sound of raised voices outside the door pulled you back.

“Mingi,” the official’s sharp tone cut through the air, “you’ve had more than enough time to reconsider.”

“I’ve already told you,” Mingi growled, his voice low and hard, “I won’t do it.”

“You’re being reckless,” the official shot back, his words cold and deliberate. “This isn’t just about you. Do you really think you can defy the royal court without consequences?”

“I won’t harm them!” Mingi’s voice rose, frustration and anger breaking through. “Whatever you’re planning, leave me out of it.”

“You don’t get it,” the official said, his tone dark. “Your creations aren’t just art—they’re tools. Tools that can change the balance of power. Think carefully, Mingi. The clock is ticking, and this choice is yours.”

A loud crash broke the tense silence as something heavy hit the floor.

“Get out,” Mingi snarled. “Now.”

“Very well,” the official said, his tone icy. “But don’t think your refusal absolves you. You’ll regret this defiance.”

The door slammed, and the sound of retreating footsteps echoed down the path.

Inside the room, your heart raced as you tried to make sense of what you had overheard. The tension outside had disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence. Slowly, you reached for the door, ready to face whatever awaited on the other side.

You didn’t have to open it. The door swung open abruptly, and Mingi stood there, his tall frame blocking the light behind him. He slammed the door shut after stepping in, the sound reverberating through the room. His chest rose and fell as if he’d just run a great distance, and his hand gripped the door handle tightly, knuckles white.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His eyes swept across the room, and then it hit him as he realized where he’d pushed you in his rush to hide you.

His face twisted, half-apology, half-irritation. “You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, the sharp edge of anger not fully gone from his voice.

Your eyes wandered over the assortment of tools neatly arranged on the walls, your cheeks flushing with heat.

“This… this is where you work?” you stammered, though it was clear the room held more than just the tools of his craft.

Mingi didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he brushed past you, grabbing a whip from the wall. The action was quick, and a slash went across his body, startling you. He maintained a safe distance from you as another lash traveled across his skin, pushing the delicate figurines in the room as the whip met them.

Was he punishing himself with the whip...why ?

“I’ll send the figurine back so you can leave now, Princess Y/n,” he muttered, his tone cold. He turned to face you, his eyes blazing with frustration. “I’ve had enough people meddling in my life today.”

His words stung, but you stood your ground. “I couldn’t just leave… not after hearing what he said,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “What’s really going on, Mingi? What does he want from you?”

Mingi let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and mirthless. He lashed the whip against a nearby wooden block, the crack echoing through the room. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said bitterly, his back still turned to you. “None of you royal types ever do. You think I’m just your sculptor, a tool for your games.”

His words hit harder than the whip’s crack, but you refused to let them shake you. “That’s not true,” you said firmly. “I’m here because I care, Mingi. I overheard enough to know that whatever that official is plotting is dangerous. You don’t have to face this alone.”

Mingi turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as if searching for something in your expression. “Care ?” he scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. Care doesn’t mean anything when you’re part of the system that’s made me this way.”

Your throat tightened, but you refused to look away. “You’re right. I don’t understand everything,” you admitted, taking a cautious step closer. “But I want to. If there’s even the slightest chance I can help, I’ll take it. Let me prove I’m not like him.”

Mingi stayed silent for a while, trying to say something but holding back. Only his grip on the whip tightened, and you took that as a chance to press on further.

“Instead of breaking those delicate figures and hurting yourself…” you paused, gently placing his hand, which held the whip, onto your shoulder. “Use it on me. Let my unbreaking resolve be the proof to you that I am here to help and not take advantage of you.” You took a deep breath, trying to make sense of the words that had just left your mouth. You were literally asking him to use you.

Why had you offered yourself? You had no idea.

One thing was clear in your mind: you wanted to help him, and maybe… a small part of your heart wanted to experience the rush again—the same feeling you’d had that night when Mingi had a knife at your throat.

But this scavenger hunt was going to be more painful. A hell of a lot more painful.

Mingi’s hand tensed, his grip on the whip faltering as his eyes locked onto yours. His anger, once fiery, flickered with confusion. "You don’t know what you’re saying," he muttered, his voice rough and shaky. "This isn’t something you can just offer. It’s not a game."

"I know it’s not," you replied firmly, heart pounding as you met his gaze. "I heard what that man said. Whatever this is, I can see it’s tearing you apart. If I can help—"

"Help?" he interrupted, a dry, bitter laugh escaping him. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "You think letting me take it out on you will help? It won’t fix anything. You don’t understand the weight of this, Y/N."

"Then help me understand," you said, stepping closer, refusing to back down. "You’re not just hurting yourself—you’re drowning. If you can’t trust me yet, fine. But don’t shut me out."

His fingers tightened around the whip, his jaw clenched as he fought the turmoil inside. The battle in his eyes was clear—anger, pride, and something softer, more vulnerable, that he was trying to bury.

He studied you for a long moment, searching your face. "You don’t know what you’re asking," he said, voice strained, the whip falling limp in his hand.

"Then show me," you whispered, voice trembling but determined. "Let me carry some of this with you."

Mingi exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair. "You’ll regret this," he muttered, but his grip on the whip tightened, as if he’d already made his decision. "This isn’t something you can just endure."

"I’m not here to prove a point," you said, steady despite the storm inside you. "I’m here because I believe you’re worth helping, no matter what."

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped. Instead, he walked to the wall, setting down the whip and picking up a leather strap. He turned it over in his hands, his shoulders stiff with hesitation. "This is different," he warned. "You’ll stop if it’s too much. Tell me if you can’t take it."

"I will," you nodded, meeting his gaze.

He motioned for you to step forward. "Place your hands on the table. And remember... you can always say no."

The first strike hit your back, sharp and stinging. A gasp escaped your lips as the pain jolted through you, but it wasn’t unbearable. It was different, almost… inviting. Your grip tightened on the table, but you didn’t move. The sting was real, but there was something else, a rush that followed it, spreading heat through your body.

Mingi stopped, watching you with eyes that seemed to search for something. “Still willing?” he asked, his voice softer now, like the anger inside him was starting to fade.

You met his gaze and nodded. “I’m still here.”

He swallowed, conflicted. He raised the strap again, this time hitting harder. The pain cut deeper, but with it came a strange warmth that spread across your skin. The sting lingered, but instead of pulling away, you leaned into it. You could feel your body reacting, the mix of pain and heat building something inside you that you couldn’t ignore.

With each strike, Mingi’s face softened. The anger was slowly replaced with something else—something that made the pain feel like a release, both for him and for you. Every blow became more than just pain; it became a way to let go, to release tension in a way that felt almost necessary.

The strikes kept coming, steady and rhythmic. The sharp sting gave way to a deeper warmth that filled your back, spreading through your body. Each blow was a wave, washing over you, making the pain and pleasure mix in a way that left you breathless.

Your breaths became uneven, not from pain but from the pull of the pleasure that followed it. You were no longer just feeling the sting; you were feeling something deeper, something that made you crave the next strike. Mingi was no longer just focused on releasing his own anger; he was reading you, feeling you, paying attention to how your body responded.

After one particularly intense blow, his hand brushed your shoulder, lingering for a moment. “You’re shaking,” he said quietly, his voice soft.

“Not from fear,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the trembling inside. The pain was still there, but it didn’t matter. It was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through your body.

Finally, the strikes slowed, then stopped. The flogger slipped from his hands as he stepped closer. His touch hovered over your back for a moment before settling there, gentle and warm, a stark contrast to the heat still flooding your skin.

You closed your eyes and let yourself feel that softness, letting the pleasure linger in your body even as the pain began to fade.

"Why would you do this?" he asked quietly, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers traced over the marks he’d left on your skin, his touch soft, almost apologetic. "Why let me hurt you ?"

"Because you needed it," you answered, standing up to face him. "And maybe... maybe I needed it too. To show you that you’re not alone, even if you think you are."

For a moment, his jaw tightened, and you saw the struggle in his eyes, like he was ready to pull away again. But instead, he stepped closer, gently cupping your face. His thumb brushed your cheek as he looked at you, as if searching for something he wasn’t sure he could find.

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer, like he didn’t want to let go. The kiss that followed was slow, soft, a very short kiss but full of emotions. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His voice was quiet as he said, "You’re maddening. You make me want to trust again, even when I don’t feel like I deserve it."

You smiled softly, your hands over his. "Then trust me. One step at a time."

In that moment, you could feel his walls starting to break down, just a little.

The air between you was heavy with tension, each heartbeat feeling like time slowed. Something inside him was changing. Maybe he was starting to trust again after all these years of being alone. Maybe it was care or....love.

His fingers shook slightly as they touched your bruises, slow and careful, like he wasn’t sure you’d pull away. But you didn’t. When his fingers grazed the welts on your skin, you didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the pain you felt—it was something deeper, something real. His touch was gentle, and it made you feel like maybe everything was going to be okay.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, like the words were difficult to say but necessary all the same.

You swallowed, your body humming from the aftermath of what had just happened. It wasn’t pain anymore, it was something else. You couldn’t find the words, but your body knew what it was, a quiet yearning, a need to be close, to lean into the warmth of his touch. His hands moved slowly, tracing the scars along your back, each movement light but filled with purpose.

"Does it hurt ?" he asked quietly, his voice full of concern. There was no judgment in his words, only care.

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head. "It’s... it’s different. It’s not just pain. It’s…” You couldn’t quite explain, but somehow, in that moment, you didn’t need to.

His hands lowered, skimming over your sides, exploring with a kind of passion that made every nerve in your body come alive. Slowly, he began to undress you, his touch deliberate and slow, as if he was savoring each moment. He wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t rushing to get to the end. His hands were soft, his movements careful, like he was afraid of breaking you.

When your gown finally slipped from your shoulders, his gaze dropped immediately to your back, to the marks still visible. The look in his eyes softened, and for a second, you wanted to hide, to cover the scars. But you didn’t. You let him see every part of you raw, vulnerable, but still here.

His hands moved to your arms, slowly trailing up, each touch deliberate, each movement meaningful. When his thumbs brushed over your collarbone, you gasped, feeling the tender sensation of his touch against your skin.

“Are you sure, darling?” he whispered, his voice low and filled with care. It wasn’t doubt, but a need to be sure, to make sure you were okay with what was happening.

You answered by, reaching for him and pulling him closer.

Words weren’t needed anymore as a silent permission to go ahead was exchanged between the both of you.

His lips met yours again, kiss started slow as he now with your approval was ready to savour every bit, every taste of your slowly. It wasn’t just passion, it was something deeper. A connection that couldn’t be put into words. His hands moved back to your back, feeling the rise of each scar, each mark. He touched you like you were something fragile, but also something he couldn’t help but want to hold.

As his lips trailed down your neck, you couldn’t help but gasp at the feel of his teeth grazing your skin. His breath was warm against you, his body pressing closer, the tension in the room thickening with every movement. His hands slid lower, gently caressing your body, every touch reminding you of his carefulness, his tenderness.

His hands slid under your waistband, pulling the fabric of your royal attire down with slow, deliberate movements, each tug filled with a quiet anticipation and care. It was a slow burn, building gradually, with no rush, no force.

When your clothes were finally gone, he stood before you, his eyes soft but heavy with a quiet hunger. His gaze moved over every inch of you, tracing the lines of your body with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no judgment, no shame in his eyes. Only reverence. Your naked form ignited a deep, smoldering passion within him, and he pulled you impossibly closer, until your bodies were tangled together, hearts racing in sync.

His lips found yours again, deeper this time, urgent, like he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breasts. He touched you with a mixture of gentleness and need, his palms warm against your skin as he cupped the fullness of your chest. His thumbs grazed over your nipples, a soft pressure that made you gasp, your body responding instinctively to his touch. His hands moved in slow circles, caressing, exploring, as if he was memorizing every part of you.

The sensation was overwhelming, a tender yet electrifying connection that made you feel both grounded and entirely lost in the moment.The warmth between you grew, but it wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, tender, an intimacy that seeped into your very bones.

His lips trailed down to the marks on your torso, each kiss placed with reverence, each one like a silent promise. You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation, your body responding to him in ways that left you breathless.

“You’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. It wasn’t possessive, but something deeper, more intimate. A declaration that felt like both a claim and an offering.

You replied, your voice steady but filled with warmth, “Mhmm...I’ll protect you, in every way possible. Always.”

The air felt alive between you, charged with something deep and unspoken. His hands slid down your sides, steadying you as he lifted you onto the edge of the workbench. The cool wood beneath you was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between your bodies, and your breath hitched as his dark eyes locked with yours. They held something raw, something that made your pulse quicken with a mix of longing and love, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Slowly, Mingi knelt before you, his hands firm on your thighs. The way you looked at him made his heart ache, as though you saw every part of him, the good and the broken, and still wanted more. His lips pressed soft, lingering kisses to your inner thighs, each touch sending a shiver through your body. He took his time, savoring the moment, letting the tension build until it was nearly unbearable.

His hands firmly gripped your thighs, pulling you open with the kind of deliberate care that sent a shiver up your spine. His eyes were locked on yours for a moment, dark and intense, before trailing down, his breath teasing your sensitive clit. It was almost unbearable, his warm exhale brushing against your slick heat, the tension coiling tightly inside you as he took his time, savoring every second of your vulnerability.

When his tongue finally flicked against your clit, your breath hitched sharply, a gasp spilling from your lips. The sensation was electric, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through you. He didn’t rush, he began with slow, teasing strokes, dragging his tongue over your most sensitive spot in lazy, deliberate circles. Each movement built on the last, the steady rhythm making your hips buck forward instinctively, craving more of his touch.

A low hum rumbled from his chest as he tightened his grip on your thighs, holding you firmly in place. The vibration of his voice against your clit made you moan, your head falling back as the tension in your core tightened further. He alternated between swirling his tongue around your clit and sucking it gently into his mouth, his pace maddeningly slow yet so precise it left you trembling. You tried to pull away for a moment, the sensation almost too much, but he wouldn’t let you.

Your thighs trembling as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. And just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, his mouth shifted, his tongue dipping lower, plunging deep into your core with a deliberate stroke that made your whole body jolt.

A broken cry tore from your throat as he fucked you with his tongue, slow and deep, each thrust of it drawing you closer to the breaking point. His nose brushed against your clit with every movement, adding another layer of stimulation that sent your nerves into overdrive.

Your body twisted under his touch, every nerve on fire, every gasp and moan spilling from your lips raw and unrestrained. He worked you with relentless precision, dragging you to the edge of release again and again, only to pull back just enough to let the tension simmer, teasing you mercilessly.

Each time you begged for more, your voice shaky and desperate, he only smirked against you, his tongue plunging back into your core, twisting and curling as if he were determined to make you fall apart completely.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging hard as your thighs clamped around his head. He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core and sending you spiraling. Your breath came in ragged gasps as the intensity built beyond what you thought you could handle, your body trembling violently as he pushed you closer to the brink.

But he didn’t stop there. His tongue moved faster now, his lips latching onto your clit once more, sucking harder in a way that made your vision blur. The overstimulation was dizzying, every touch too much and not enough all at once. You were utterly at his mercy, your body completely his to command.

When your release finally came, it was devastating. A scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm tore through you like a tidal wave, leaving you shaking and gasping for air. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop, his tongue and lips coaxing every last drop from you until tears pricked at your eyes from the sheer intensity.This was the first time someone has touched and handled your body this way.

“Breathe,little princess.” he murmured against you, his voice rough, and it took you a moment to realize you were still trembling, your body barely able to handle the aftershocks. He slowed his movements, soothing you with soft kisses against your clit and inner thighs, grounding you as you came back down from the high.

Weakly, you reached for him, pulling his hands to yours. You kissed his knuckles softly, your lips brushing over the roughness of his skin as your chest heaved. It was a quiet, desperate act, a thank-you and a plea all at once.

Mingi sat up slowly, his eyes locking with yours as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. The look in his eyes was intense, filled with a quiet sadness that made your chest tighten. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but heavy with emotion.

“I need to tell you something.”

His words, raw and hesitant, pulled you out of the lingering haze of warmth, dragging you into a harsh reality.

You met his gaze, worry flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening like the words hurt too much to say. But he forced them out anyway, his voice cracking slightly. “When this is done... the royal family—they’re going to take my hands.”

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. His confession hit you like a blow, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said, your heart racing in disbelief.

“Your... hands?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his gaze falling to where your hands rested on his, your fingers entwined as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. “They said it’s the price I have to pay. Once I finish the sculpture of the empress and meet the emperor’s deadline... my hands will be cut off.”

Your heart ached for him, for the burden he carried. The weight of the looming deadline, knowing that the very thing he was creating—the sculpture of your mother—would lead to his punishment. His reward? The loss of his hands. Why did your kingdom have such a rule? And on top of that, there were officials within your own kingdom using his art to harm the royal family. Mingi, caught in the middle of a storm he couldn’t escape, made you pull him into your arms.

Tears welled in your eyes as the full weight of his words sank in. He was so calm, so resigned, yet beneath his stoic exterior, you could feel the raging storm. The man who had just held you with such care, worshipped you with tenderness, was willing to give up the very hands that had brought you to life only moments ago.

With everything you knew now, there was no going back. You were about to plunge into the heart of your kingdom’s darkest secrets, fully aware of the cost. But one thing was certain — you would either save him, or burn everything to the ground in the process.

And that is how our princess Y/n fell of the royal sculptor Song Mingi.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[spacedace]

“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”

“Tt, of course.”

“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”

“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”

“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”

“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”

“They are training to gain influence over you?”

“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”

“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”

“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”

“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”

“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”

“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”

“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”

“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”

“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”

“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”

“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”

“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”

“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”

“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”

“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”

With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.

Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.

Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.

The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.

The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.

Though a lot more entertaining.

[kiyomitakada]

okay fuck it i went to a leonardo da vinci exhibit today and now i have a leonardo da vinci death note AU in my head because i am a parody of myself so you can fucking have it i guess what do i even do with this

light yagami: young genius polymath who is good at literally everything

unfortunately for him he is a foreigner in italia (his family immigrated) so the government is not letting him anywhere near their weaponry projects. instead he does art. yes light yagami painted the mona lisa no i do not take criticism i’m in too deep

his portraits are predictably amazing. smash hit. soon aristocracy from all over italy is contacting him to draw them and their mother. this means he doesnt even have time in the day to draw giant fuckoff warship designs anymore. what point is there to life, he sulks.

eventually he accepts a commission from one kyosuke higuchi! we’re italianizing him because i really don’t think this AU works otherwise but let’s call him higuchi anyway. higuchi is a fifty-something duke of something or other who has recently married one misa amane who is twenty-something (the same age as light). misa is the subject of the portrait because higuchi just loves his darling wife so much (read: they had a shotgun wedding and higuchi needs to keep up appearances)

light is like wow someone who isn’t white it’s been like five years. i kind of feel bad for her, this situation is very suspicious. hello miss amane if you’ll just sit down over there while i get my brushes

misa (seeing the first person who has been even remotely sympathetic to her absolutely horrific life, noticing he hasn’t tried to make any advances on her at all [this is a good thing]): I AM DRASTICALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU.

light: what

misa’s plan of seducing light predictably fails because he’s light, so she explains she has to get the fuck away from higuchi somehow

light is like okay well i am sorry to hear that but what does this have to do with me.

misa, tearing up: im a damsel in distress! also i can get you information about his court

light: whats his job

misa: financial advisor

light: oh fuck yes okay

so light’s plan is now to worm into the yotsuba court to get funding and hopefully sway them enough to let him pitch his cool weaponry ideas so he can Change The World. he does need income in general too (both for himself and his family; expected lifespan was way shorter then obviously).

misa’s plan is to kill higuchi somehow which will be much easier with light as backup she thinks

so. light packs up and moves to the yotsuba court which is thrilled to have THE light yagami portrait artist (i do more than portraits…) in their employ

oh yeah, misa mentions, the prince of the yotsuba court is kind of… weird

light: you could have told me this before

misa: ehe. dont worry about it!! it’s just um. he had a weird personality shift a few years ago? and now he refuses to wear royal attire. he always dresses like a peasant.

light: well it’s not like i’m going to be there to judge him on fashion am i.

THAT’S RIGHT. SIKE THIS IS AN ISEKAI NOW. yes L does remember light killing him <3 he (L) woke up in fifteenth century renaissance italy in a twenty-something-year-old body immediately after the heart attack. by some miracle he already knew italian.

so everything is going swell until one day light walks into his workshop to find the prince flipping through his notebook

light, sleep deprived: hey what the fu—i mean. uh. good morning your highness

there’s no need for that formality. call me L.

(…but your name doesn’t start with an L?) thank you, your highness L. um. sorry i know my handwriting’s messy.

on the contrary i find it completely readable, as long as one reads backwards and caesar shifts it three letters forward.

(oh SHIT he’s onto me) haha what are you talking about?

in fact i think this mechanical dragonfly contraption is rather ingenious.

oh aha that’s not important, just a passing fancy honestly

[ignoring him] if only you had some better way of providing torque, because as it stands the spring engine is extremely poorly designed.

what the fuck did you just say to me

[they end up physically fighting over the notebook because of course they do. meet cute!]

some more details:

ryuk is the patron light eventually gets after being in higuchi’s court for a bit

rem is higuchi’s personal assistant, who was disowned by her own royal-blooded family because her family sucks. she hates her job. if it weren’t for misa she’d probably be on the other side of the country by now

i don’t know where the wammy kids are. they’re definitely competing to be the heir to L’s throne but also they’re not related because there is no way that all the wammy kids (the whole orphanage of wammy kids) could have come from the same person. maybe some kind of insufferably high collar royal boarding school? did they even have those? help me

kiyomi and teru are both advisors in other courts (which are extremely corrupt, light seethes, in his perfect world there wont be any of those anymore) (you work for a court light) (thats different)

okay i’m done for today. you never know about tomorrow though. /threat.

[ @deathnotetober day 12: isekai ]

[badsongpetey]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

The Water Guardian (aka Cryptid Keith AU) Part 10

The irony of climbing, at least for Lance, is that it makes it hard to talk, and talking is his forte. Well, maybe that’s not the actual irony, which is for once in Lance’s life, he’s glad for a reason to stay silent.

The cliff is moderately challenging, it wouldn’t be so bad with ropes or at least chalk for his hands, but as it is, it’s taking a good deal of his concentration not to misstep, and to keep up with Keith. Gone is Keith’s hesitance and fear, replaced by something intense, something urgent, and Lance is doing his best not to fall too far behind.

If he’s being honest, he’d kind of hoped getting out a bit would help Keith shake off his nerves. The Keith he’s grown to know is far from timid. He’s brave, and smart, and kind, and.. FUCK! Lance’s hand slips with his concentration just as he’d shifted his weight and now he’s dangling by the other hand over 100 feet up.

“LANCE!” Keith yells from above him. “Lance! I’m coming!”

Lance grunts and uses the momentum of his swing to grab onto another handhold and stabilize himself.

“I’m okay.” He says through clenched teeth. “I…” he grunts again, louder, as he pulls himself up to the next foothold, “… I got this.”

He hears something move over the rocks above him, and then suddenly Keith is right next to him, eyes wide with fear. “Lance! Are you hurt?”

Lance scoffs. Here he is, winded and clutching the cliff face like a long lost lover, and this asshole doesn’t even have the grace to be out of breath. “I’m okay, hot shot. Don’t get your mullet in a twist.”

Keith makes a sour face at that, but doesn’t move from Lance’s side.

“I’m okay. I just need a sec, just to catch my breath.”

Keith nods and lets out a breath, purely from relief and not exertion Lance jealously notes. “Guess that makes me King of the Cliffs.”

The guffaw that takes over Lance is completely unfiltered. “Oh my god, this isn’t a competition!”

Keith sniffs thoughtfully, “I agree, you really haven’t been much competition.”

“I think I liked you better when you hid from me.” Lance laughs.

“Ah,” Keith says softly, still close, “I think that’s not true at all.”

Lance’s breath catches. This close Keith’s eyes are swirling galaxies of violet and flame, and he can’t imagine any creature, human or dragon, could have eyes more beautiful. Then those eyes turn to look up.

“I think we’re over halfway there. I could carry you…”

“YOU CANNOT!” Lance sputters. “I do not need to be carried, by you, or anyone, anywhere. I’m fine. I’m great. I can carry myself, thank you. Not.”

Keith blinks and chuckles. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry to suggest your majesty is anything but completely self-reliant.”

“Ah-HA! See! You acknowledge my victory!” Lance shouts, triumphant.

Keith slides away, giving Lance room to move. “Yeah, yeah, King of the Falls.”

“Your Majesty.” Lance corrects.

Keith shakes his head. “Does it offend his royal ego if I hang back and climb, so very painfully slowly, next to him?”

“His highness is offended by the wording of the offer, not the offer itself.” Lance sniffs, holding back a smile.

Keith sighs theatrically, “I’ll take what I can get.”

Lance doesn’t stop the smile as he resumes climbing, grateful to have Keith by his side for more reasons than he can spare the brainpower to think about.

Continued on:

[meteor752]

I rewatched ever after high with my girlfriend after like, six years

We had…thoughts

Do you guys think fairytale people look down on those who aren’t from a fairytale? Because, Ever After High seems to be the most like prestige school, but not everyone can go to it. Is there like racism going on between fairytale people and normal people?

It’s said many times that Apple will be like, the future queen, but when we meet Snow White she’s a fucking capitalist. Also Apple being queen means kinda nothing cause half the school are royalty and will grow up to become kings and queens. That title doesn’t mean anything

We had like, ten kids from wonderland, but no Oz kids? I feel like a Dorothy child would be very obvious, like what the hell, same with the witches

The school actively encourages evil people to be evil, then become surprised when they are evil. Like, Evil Queen cursing Wonderland and almost taking over the world? That’s on you, principal

Also can we place lock up the principal in jail? He lied and manipulated his students, stole from Raven, and kept his brother cursed and locked up in the basement. Like, ???? The brother comes back and is just like “Oh I missed you so much brother” like no!!!!!! Get that man out of here!!!!!

Do the fairytale people reproduce like, asexually, or do we have a ton of inbreeding between the royals? Well, it would be the most realistic aspect of the show

Hot take: Apple is a great character. Like yeah she’s a little selfish, but when we’re shown how she was raised it’s fully understandable that she’s so obsessed with fulfilling her destiny, but she’s never rude or bitchy, not ever really to Raven. Also she gets better! Active character development! She’s one of my favorites

Why the fuck is Allister frolicking in Wonderland. Bro Alice came back, she left that place, yet everyone is just like “Yep he’s a wonderlandian”, like no! Also he’s a royal? Bro you can’t be a royal, you were actively rebelling against your story by going to wonderland early

It’s a little messed up how many of the kids are like, being forced to die. Like Ramona? She will be fucking gutted after eating her sister if she goes with her story. Like what is this school, what are these rules?

Apart from Sparrow, surprisingly, everyone of the boy designs are so fucking boring. Ew

I love the direction they took for Briar. I think they kinda realized after the first episode that shit, it’s kinda weird that this girl who’s destiny it is to sleep for 100 years to just be fine with it. Briar is also one of my faves

Speaking of the sleeping beauty story tho, do you think it’s rare for the school to have a sleeping beauty? Cause we’re shown that this school has housed like, generations of fairytale characters, but since Sleeping beauty clocks out for a hundred years, and probably only had a child after that, they must only get her like, every fourth or fifth generation. Kinda interesting actually

Daring X Cerise > Daring X Rosabella. Like idk, maybe it’s that Cerise can like, fully challenge him in his views, forcing him to become better in a way. Like, with Rosabella it feels more like an “I can fix him <3” mindset, while with Cerise it’s more “I can knock him down a peg”. I just thought they had a better dynamic, idk

Speaking of the Charming family, gf and I fucking hate Dexter’s name. Like, Daring and Darlings names match each other so well, not just that they sound alike but that they have meanings. Dexter is just a boring name

We tried to come up with name ideas, Dating was the funniest one to us, but we thought Dastardly was kinda fun.

Like, our thought process was that he was meant to be like, the classic jealous twin brother, always looking to sabotage his perfect older bro, except he wasn’t that at all. Like, a running joke would be that it would look like he was sabotaging Daring, or like being mean, but then the camera would like zoom out or smt and show that he was like, playing a video game or just doing something completely different. It would have been more fun, plus it would have given Dexter like an actual personality instead of just, inferiority complex the person

Dashing could also have been an idea for a name

Kitty should have a tail. As should her milf of a mother have. Also like, real cat ears instead of just a hat or a headband. It feels obvious

I mean Bunny has actual bunny ears, plus she can transform into a bunny, but why is the cat just like A Girl

How can Hunter belong to both the Little red ringing hood story, and Snow White. Is his dad just a mad multitasker, or does he have two dads? I like the second option honestly

The storybeat of the characters all living through each others story honestly should have been like, an entire special. It’s the most interesting thing the show did, and I wish we could have seen more, cause it lasted only like seven minutes. But that gives us more time to see that thrilling book all storyline, amiright?!

Briar’s moment was especially heart aching, and I wish we'd gotten more of it

But like, since Briar as the evil queen saw Apple poisoned instead of her mum, does that mean that Raven was talking to herself in her story

But at the same time, Blondie saw the current queen of hearts instead of Lizzie, so like what's going on

Snow White and The Evil Queen have like the vibe of high school rivals/ex girlfriends, and they did go to school together, but like Queenie is literally her step mom. Like what. If Raven were to live out her story, would that mean that she would marry Apple's dad? Whoever that is?

The more you think about the lore of this world the more it doesn't make sense, but it also becomes like incredibly dark

The Pied Piper is one of if not my favorite fairytales, but I hate how he is represented in this show. Like he kidnapped children and then drowned them, that man shouldn't be a teacher!

Also white queen is a teacher at ever after, yet her daughter is still in wonderland. Like bitch just left her there, what the hell.

I love that they didn’t make any of the princesses stuck up bitches, like Descendants did. Like, the girls are all kind, with vibrant personalities and a lot of love for the people around them. The closest thing to the “mean girl” stereotype is Duchess actually

But Duchess makes total sense! She fucking drowns at the end of her story, of course she wants another one. Why is Raven’s rebellion praised but Duchesses scorned? Also why is she a royal, girlypop is literally trying to steal other people’s happily ever after, she a rebel

There is more I can say, but this post has already been deleted twice from my drafts, and I am scared of it, so it’s better to get it out now

Also, as a final little send off, here’s my ranking of the characters, and the ships

[ak319]

Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

PART X ➺ Prev ⤷ Series m.list Your name is Deniz here

(Kade's POV)

"Here, Your Highness." My hands held the papers from Richard, but my gaze remained fixed on the wall in front of me.

9 a.m. The team will be here at 11. But what was throwing me off, keeping me on edge, was your behaviour. You were completely detached. You still had a mild fever, and God knows what exactly Father said to you. I preferred it when you were at least fighting back.

"Um, Ronan, call my wife, will you." I can't believe I am this weak, too afraid to even face you right now.

‘Is this what you wanted, Kade?’

Yes, it is. Whatever is happening, or however she feels, she’s still my wife. As she should be. You need to cope. I can't ignore reality, even if I am so deeply in love. Sometimes, I have to sit back and... let things be, however cruel they may seem. I can sense it--your defeat. It's near, and eventually, everything you consider bad or wrong in your mind will fade, leaving only my love. And I refuse to accept that this is wrong. I might accept it if someone else came along, declaring they love you more than I do, but I know that’s never going to happen. The mere thought of it made me let out a chuckle. Because there is no other me. There never will be.

Your footsteps made me alert, and I offered you a gentle, reassuring smile, though it probably went unnoticed. "Come, darling. Here, sit beside me. We need to discuss a few things."

You sat down without any protest, your hands resting in your lap, gaze distant. "You alright? Need anything? Please, just tell me, love." You responded with a disapproving sigh, and I couldn’t help but notice the lack of warmth in your eyes. "Do let me know if you do, even if it's in the middle of the interview. It’s not live, anyway." I handed you a copy of the questions, trying to ease the tension. "Um--so... here are the questions. It’s probably best we go through them ourselves first."

"Just tell me what I have to say."

A flash of frustration sparked in my chest. "No, that’s not how this is going to work, darlin. Can we have a moment, please."

"Yes, Your Royal Highness."

As soon as everyone stepped out, I turned back to you, leaning closer. "Look at me, love. Why are you shutting down like this? We’re in this together, aren’t we?" My voice softened, but my grip on your hand remained firm. "You can’t just sit there and follow a script. I want you in this, not some hollow version of yourself."

You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet mine. "Just... tell me what to fucking say. Please."

I shook my head, a dry chuckle slipping through my frustration. "Fine. If that’s what you’re so keen on, then sure, I’ll play along. But remember this, Deniz, what you say might be scripted, but what I’ll say there... it will be true." My hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer even as you tried to pull away. "Every word I say will be. I’ll make sure everyone knows just how much I love you."

I paused, exhaling to gain control over the storm of emotions swirling within me. "And if I have to make them see that you’re mine, that we belong together even when you’re like this, I’ll do it. Because no matter how you act right now, no matter how many times you try to push me away, I’m not going anywhere."

I searched your face, hoping for even a flicker of the defiance you usually had, the spark that used to meet mine. But there was only silence, and it cut deeper than any harsh words.

"Just... be casual, natural. You don’t have to do anything more than that. I’ll even let them know about your fever; that should help, take some of the pressure off." I tried to keep my voice steady, gentle, but the tension in the air was palpable. "I’m... here for you. You know that, right? Always."

Your silence lingered, stretching the space between us. It gnawed at me, stirring a frustration I struggled to swallow, but I knew it was better than getting snapped at. Right now, it felt like I was walking on thin ice, every word a potential crack beneath my feet. And with you in this fragile state, I couldn’t afford to make a wrong move.

"I love you, my princess," I whispered softly, letting the words hang in the air, hoping they might reach you, touch a part of you that still remembered us. But your expression remained distant, and the ache in my chest tightened.

With a resigned breath, I called out, "Ronan, Katie, come in." I straightened, bracing myself for the next few hours. "The sooner this gets finished, the better."

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(YOUR POV)

Five minutes left before it starts, and of course, Ewan appears at the room’s door, his eyes lingering on both of us, especially me. I knew that look, it was a subtle warning, just as I expected. And right beside him stood the Queen, Bella, with an almost sympathetic smile on her face.

Two minutes.

As the door clicked shut behind them and you settled into the couch, your eyes finally began to take in the room, drifting over everything. The interviewer made some friendly small talk with you and Kade, who gently shifted you into a more comfortable position on the sofa, her arm pressing against yours, trying to ease the tension from your body.

“Relax and just breathe.” Her whisper cut through the fog of your feverish thoughts, bringing with it the strange realization of how much... has changed. She’s beside you, her presence so familiar, so comfortable, as if you had invited her to be this close.

But you didn’t.

No, you didn’t do any of this. You don’t agree with any of it, and yet here you are, trapped in a scenario you never signed up for.

You’re caught, Deniz~

Your own mind seemed to mock you, a cruel voice echoing through the haze, leaving you questioning how you ended up here.

Don't lose your cool right now. Please. Don't cry. Don't.

The atmosphere in the room is thick with a forced sense of warmth, the kind that comes with polite smiles and scripted pleasantries. It feels like the air conditioning is too cold, but there’s a faint sheen of sweat on your skin, not just from the fever, but from the weight pressing down on you. The interviewer sits opposite you and Kade, her cheerful demeanor almost grating in its brightness as she tries to build a sense of ease. Kade's hand remains firmly on your knee, a gentle pressure that borders on possessive.

As the interview begins, the camera’s red light flicks on, and your heart stutters in your chest, the realization sinking in that everything you say here will be seen, analyzed, judged. The questions begin softly, a slow lead into more personal territory. You try to focus, but your mind is a swirl of mixed emotions, resentment, confusion, and a faint hope that somehow, this will be over soon.

The interviewer leans forward, clasping her hands with enthusiasm. “So, Kade, when did you first meet Deniz?”

Kade’s lips curl into a smile that looks warm on the surface but holds an edge you can almost feel. “Ah, I remember it vividly. It was during a high school cricket match. Deniz was bowling, and I was there for... let’s say, a friendly obligation.” Her gaze shifts briefly to you, her smile widening. “She was so focused, so determined. Even then, she had this fire in her. And I was just mesmerised. I thought, ‘Here’s someone who knows what she wants.’ It… intrigued me,” It’s a version of the story that leaves out the years of distance, the way she’d re-entered your life with a determination that left you with little choice.

The interviewer’s attention shifts to you, her curiosity genuine. “And what was your first impression of Kade, Deniz?”

You open your mouth, but the words feel trapped, caught in the tangle of thoughts that your feverish brain can barely unravel. You clear your throat, forcing your voice to stay steady. “It’s funny, back then, I was just focused on the game. Never thought I’d end up catching a princess’s eye,” you add, a saccharine edge to your tone as you look at Kade. “I guess you could say I wasn’t really looking for anything… or anyone, at that time.”” Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, and you hope it’s enough. You hope she’ll let it go.

Kade’s hand tightens slightly on your knee, and she gives a low, soft chuckle. “She’s always been humble like that. But for me, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

“But fate has a funny way of bringing people together, doesn’t it?” She says smoothly, her arm wrapping a bit more firmly around you, holding you in place even as your mind yearns to drift far away from the room.

The interviewer, blissfully unaware, nods along , a blush covering her own cheeks, charmed by the sentiment.

“And then, you two met again years later or...?” Sarah continues, trying to maintain the flow of the story.

“It was like no time had passed, really. We reconnected almost instantly, and... well, the rest is history.”

You swallow thickly, trying to keep your own voice steady as you add, “Yeah, we… we met again, and things just… happened. Happened in a way I never expected, almost.” Your chuckle was soft, eyes dropping to your lap. You wanted to bury yourself in the ground. Your parents and Clara will watch this shit too, you realized.

The next question shifts to Kade once more, a simple one about how long you’ve been together, but she spins the answer into a tale of persistence and love that you barely recognize. “We’ve been together for a few years now, but honestly, it feels like a lifetime,” she says, casting you a smile that’s too perfect, too deliberate. “And I wouldn’t trade a moment of it. I mean, she for me possessed everything that I loved, a good spirit, the charm, the humour. That smile. Everything." Which translates to 'I have been stalking her for years and have been together in my own head'.

Asshole.

You nod along, your mind barely processing her words. You feel adrift, your thoughts tangled between the memories of what really happened and the story she’s weaving. Part of you wants to speak up, to say something real, but the weight of the moment crushes your voice. The cameras, the interviewer’s expectant eyes, the almost invisible pressure of Kade’s grip, all of it keeps you silent, playing along in a scene where the script isn’t yours.

The wife of the ex-playgirl Princess is what you are now it seems.

Kade’s voice continues, carrying the conversation forward, her tone polished and confident, while yours slips further into the background. She’s in control of this, just like she always is. You wonder if anyone else in the room can feel the undercurrent of tension, the way each of her words lands like a small, calculated blow.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

Kade’s lips brushed over your knuckles, and her words held a practiced softness, but you knew better. “See, darling? You did so well,” she cooed, her gaze steady, as if willing you to agree. The room buzzed around her, the team finishing up their last-minute checks on the footage, but all you could focus on was the way her grip never quite loosened.

You were exhausted, body and mind. The retakes had dragged on each one pulled from you with a tension you could barely mask by the end.

“Kay, so, let's go and have your medicine and some snacks,” she said, her tone sweetened but laced with that unmistakable firmness. Her hand remained entwined with yours, guiding you as if you were too fragile to walk on your own, or maybe too dangerous to leave unguarded. “Then we’ll get some photos taken. After that, you can rest, princess.”

Rest. You almost laughed at the irony. The way she said it, like it was a reward rather than just a moment to catch your breath.

Kade’s smile grew, pleased with your compliance, and she leaned in closer, her voice lowering just for you. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise,” she murmured against your ear, her tone gentle but carrying that familiar undercurrent.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

The dining room was heavy with expectation as Kade’s voice cut through the silence, drawing everyone’s attention to the matter at hand. A tension that belied the way she held her glass.

“So? What did you decide, Father?” Her voice was measured, but you could sense the undercurrent of urgency in her tone.

Ewan, ever composed, met her gaze with a hint of amusement. “About? Your house, you mean?” He allowed the question to hang in the air as Kade nodded, sipping her drink in a bid to appear relaxed.

“Well... you both did well.” Ewan’s gaze shifted to you for a moment, offering a vague, almost formal acknowledgment. It was one of those moments where you could almost feel the hierarchy of the family pressing down on you, an unspoken reminder of where you stood in all this.

“And, as for your coronation, I was thinking in November.”

You felt Kade stiffen beside you, the tension in her shoulders apparent as she tried to mask her reaction. “I mean, that’s, thank you, but do you mean to say we have to stay here till then?”

“I mean, your call. If you want to move early, then sure." Ewan’s tone was definitive, as if the matter were already settled, the decision made long before this dinner.

Before Kade could respond, Bella’s voice joined the conversation, smooth as ever. “Your father decided on York House, in Kingsreach.” She offered a polite smile, as though trying to soften the news. But the air in the room only seemed to grow colder.

Kade’s knuckles whitened against her glass, and you could feel the frustration radiating from her. She tried to keep her voice steady, but there was an edge to it, a subtle irritation that wasn’t lost on you or on Ewan.

“I appreciate your thoughts, truly, but I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t consider Ravenstone. It’s quiet, secluded. I think it would be a better fit for us.” She tried to keep her smile pleasant, but you could see the underlying tension tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Ewan, however, seemed unmoved, offering a tight smile. “Ravenstone is lovely, but this isn’t just about you, Kade. Kingsreach offers a better balance. It’s closer to the city, to Buckingham, which means you’re accessible for your duties while still having your privacy.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “Besides, you and Deniz are still... adjusting to things. A place like Kingsreach will make it easier for both of you to settle, without the isolation of the countryside. I think it's for the best.”

Kade’s grip on her glass tightened again, her jaw clenching briefly. “I don’t see why you would make that decision for us. I thought this was our choice.”

“It’s a family decision, Kade,” Ewan responded evenly, leaning back in his chair. “And as much as I value your opinion, I’m thinking about the long-term.”

You could feel Kade’s frustration building beside you, a storm that was barely held back, but she forced a tight smile. “Right, because it’s always about what you think is best for us.” Her voice was sharper now, a challenge in her eyes as she stared back at him. You found yourself shrinking in your seat, wanting to disappear from the tension, but Ewan’s gaze found you again, lingering as if to gauge your reaction.

Bella stepped in smoothly, trying to ease the tension. “Kade, darling, we’re not saying it’s set in stone. It’s just a suggestion. But Kingsreach does have its advantages, especially as you prepare for the coronation.”

Kade’s expression softened slightly at her mother’s words, but the rigidity in her shoulders remained. She glanced at you, searching for support, but you looked away. Part of you understood Kade’s desire for Ravenstone--a place that would have allowed her to perhaps isolate you?. Another part of you felt the weight of Ewan’s logic, knowing that staying closer to the palace meant less friction, fewer battles to fight. You feeling more at home here.

The silence settled over the table again, thick and uncomfortable. Kade finally looked back at Ewan, forcing a smile. “We’ll think about it, Father. But I still believe Ravenstone has... potential.”

Ewan’s smile remained polite, but there was an unmistakable finality in his tone as he replied, “Of course, Kade. Take your time to consider it. But remember, there’s wisdom in seeing beyond just what we want.”

“Right. I just, I always wanted to move to Ravenstone. I love it. And it’s just... supposed to be mine. York, Kingsreach? Seriously? Where Romana lives too?” Kade’s voice carried an edge of bitterness, and you could sense how badly she wanted to cling to the dream of Ravenstone.

What the fuck is going on? Is this really what rich people fight over? It felt surreal like you were watching some twisted sitcom play out. The fights back home were over who ate the last piece of dessert or swiped the best leftovers from the fridge, but never this.

Ewan’s gaze darkened, but he kept his tone even, trying to reason with her. “What’s wrong with being with your sister?”

Kade’s frustration spilled over. “I want privacy! Something of my own. For my future family.” Her words sent a jolt through you, like ice in your veins. Family? Your thoughts spiraled, panic rising in your chest. She was already thinking about kids, of tying you even closer, of sealing this life together permanently. No, no, no. NO! SOMEBODY KILL ME ALREADY--

You hesitated but couldn't stop yourself from muttering, “Isn’t Buckingham... good? It's fine here.” The words slipped out before you could catch them.

“Deniz. Hush now.” Kade’s words cut through the air like a cold blade. Her voice was low but sharp, a tone she had never used with you before. It made you flinch, and a flush of embarrassment crept up your neck. Your chest tightened as her command sank in, leaving you feeling small and exposed. Even the three others exchanged startled glances.

The audacity.

You couldn’t quite process what hurt more, Kade’s uncharacteristic order, or the way it seemed to strip away the last remnants of any illusion you’d held. That despite everything she’d done, the manipulations and deceit, she had always treated you with a veneer of gentleness before. Now, was that gone? Did...you do something so bad? Maybe she's just frustrated right now.

"We will talk about this later." Ewan shut down the conversation and left everyone to their own thoughts.

Next

(AN: comment below to get tagged for this fic🫶)

[sorchathered]

Don’t take the girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x reader

Summary- the after effects of Perry and Royal killing the Tillerson boys brings more trouble and heartache into Rhett’s life, can he keep what he holds most dear or will he lose it all?

Warnings- language, violence, mentions of death, smut.

A/N- I meant to put this out months ago but never did, hopefully y’all like it! It’s a rewrite of one of my first fics and I still don’t know if I like it but I’m putting it out into the tumblr-verse anyway lol.

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“I called my firm in Cheyenne, and they said they could get my position back for me by the end of next week, I-I think it’s the best option right now.”

Rhett reels back from you like he’s been slapped, furiously shaking his head eyes full of venom.

“Don’t you get tired of it? Constantly running from your problems?”

You give him an incredulous look, clearly he’s not going to let this go quietly like you’d (foolishly) hoped.

“I’m not running! It’s self preservation Rhett! For both of us! We can’t just dilute ourselves into thinking we could weld ourselves back together, we’re completely different people now and I love you- God I love you more than anything and always will-“

“Don’t, you don’t get to use that on me when clearly you and I have different ideas of what love is.” He looks absolutely disgusted now, you can barely stand to look at him, it brings tears to your eyes to even think you’re hurting him again.

“That’s not fair and you know it-“

“Not fair?! You wanna know how many girls I’ve slept with since you?”

“Don’t” you reply weakly

“At least a hundred, maybe more I don’t even see their faces anymore Y/N. I haven’t had a single relationship that lasted more than a month since you left, I can’t even try to make it work. I got with Maria trying to feel something, anything but I couldn’t get serious, she knew I’d never be over you and I hate that she was right. Because when I’m fucking some buckle bunny or one night stand you’re the only face I see. You came home and it was like a sign, I could get my second chance and get my shit together, be the man you deserved. But there’s something broken in you, you can’t just let me love you.” He looks into your teary eyes and shakes his head, “I refuse to be the reason we fell apart. You turn your back on me now and that’s it darlin’ don’t ever think I’ll let you in again.”

He turns on his heel and slams your front door, rattling the windows with the force of it. You want more than anything to run after him, beg him to listen but you know he’s right. You are scared; Perry and Amy were missing, Trevor and Billy were dead and Rhett had barely made it out unscathed. The Tillerson’s were still circling like vultures, Perry had admitted to murdering Trevor before he disappeared but they wanted retribution and they’d take a pound of Abbott flesh to settle the score. Dropping to your knees in your family’s home you sobbed, you knew you’d fucked up again but you didn’t know any other way but to save yourself when things got tough.

You and Rhett had fallen in love overnight it seemed, your mother’s had been attached at the hip all your lives and to say the two of you tolerated each other was an overstatement. Junior prom seemed to change everything, he asked Maria and she turned him down cold, and your boyfriend dumped you the week before so of course your parents suggested you go together. Rhett couldn’t think of anything more painful in his life, but he knew better than to question Cece so off he trudged in his suit jacket, wranglers and best pair of boots to pick you up. When you crossed the threshold it was like he’d never seen you before in his life, you’d always been one of the boys to him but in your baby blue dress and hair all curled he swore you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on. You had been inseparable from that night on, always holding hands and stealing kisses; Perry attempting to take the piss out of you at every opportunity but it never phased you.

When you’d been accepted to college in another state Rhett felt like his whole world collapsed. You both promised you’d make it work and stay together but the distance became too much and before you knew it 6 years had passed between you. You’d seen each other in passing over holidays but he was jaded from the heartbreak and you knew better than to push him. Your mother had passed at the beginning of the year and you made the trek back to Wabang to settle her affairs, but ended up getting a job with the local law firm and before you knew it months had passed and you’d fully integrated yourself back into the community.

Stepping into the pit bar that summer night had changed everything, he’d been drinking with his buddies and you had let an old high school girlfriend convince you that drinks and line dancing were the cure for your melancholy. Some guy got a little too handsy, Rhett came out of nowhere and knocked him on his ass and just like that the two of you were making out like teenagers in the front of his old pickup. You’d picked right back up where you left off, and then everything went to shit that fateful fall night when Perry took Trevor’s life.

Rhett was seething as he drove back to the ranch, he felt like his skin was on fire and couldn’t stop the tears from spilling as he violently shook. How was he supposed to go without you again? He’d been patched up with tape and glue for years, just trying to make a name for himself in the pbr circuit and drowning his sorrows in beer and pussy. He’d become a shell of who he was without you, a version of himself he hated. You’d come back into his life and for once he had hope for a future outside of just surviving. He knew you were scared but damnit so was he! His family was unraveling at the seams and he couldn’t do anything to stop the onslaught of troubles that ravaged everything he held dear. He slammed the truck to a stop, tears blinding his eyes as he began to hyperventilate, sobs wracking his body and he let it all wash over him. Didn’t know how long he’d sat there until he was startled by his phone ringing, pulling himself together to see who the hell needed him this late at night.

“Rhett! Rhett please- I need you to listen-“

You sobbed into the phone, something was wrong; you hadn’t been the number on the screen when he answered, and he heard a thud and a scream from you on the line as someone else took over the call.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a dilemma Abbott, both my brothers are dead and there’s no one to pay the price for the sins your family committed. So it looks like your sweetheart will have to do.” Luke Tillerson laughs darkly as he drags you out to his truck by your hair, Rhett can hear your sobs through the phone and he nearly blacks out from the anger coursing through him.

“Luke if you hurt her-“

“Aht Aht let’s not make empty threats Rhett, you know I hold all the cards right now. You want to see her alive? Trade yourself for her, you’ve got twenty minutes.” The line goes dead and the phone lights up again with a text. With shaking hands Rhett opens the message, blood splattered across your beautiful face as you lay slumped in the bed of Luke’s truck. Coordinates for a location and a countdown pop up next, and Rhett has to wrench the door of the cab open to throw up. He unlocks his phone again and dials Sheriff Joy, he doesn’t know how to fix this but he’ll give himself up, let Luke torture him until his last breath if it means keeping you safe.

Against the sheriff and his father’s wishes Rhett is speeding down the highway, gps taking him towards the location Luke sent him. His shotgun that normally lay under the bench seat of his truck was in his lap now, knowing he would do what was needed if it meant keeping you alive; even if that meant Wayne Tillerson would bury all three sons in the span of a month.

Joy had begged him to wait for them to get there first, but he knew at the first sign of police presence Luke would do something drastic and he couldn’t take that risk. He shut off his headlights as he turned into the drive near the tiny shack the directions had led him to, putting the truck in park a couple hundred feet away. He still had a good ten minutes to spare maybe if he could get the upper hand he could subdue Luke and get you both out of this unscathed.

Creeping up towards the old building he could see a light and hear voices, as he peered into the window he found Luke pacing the floor with you tied to a chair. Bruises were blooming across your cheekbone and your nose was bloody, tears pouring from your eyes as you begged him to let you go. You catch movement in the window, his eyes meeting yours in that moment you know you need to create a diversion if you want to keep the both of you alive.

“Luke you don’t have to do this, you know Rhett isn’t responsible for what happened! You can still walk away from this, I won’t press charges and we can let this go.”

He cocks his head to the side, appraising you, something dark behind his eyes that causes a shiver to run down your spine. He shoves himself off the rickety table he was perched on, kneels down in front of you and places his hands on either side of your duct taped calves.

“Oh y/n you sweet little thing. I’m not blind you know, I’ve noticed you over the years; you grew up to be quite the woman. Accomplished lawyer, definitely more than just a pretty face and it kind of makes me wonder why the hell you’ve been wasting your time on Rhett. He’s small time darlin’, never gonna be anything more than a glorified ranch hand, constantly chasing after his daddy’s approval. Tsk tsk if your parents could see you now, all the time and money they wasted to get you out of this piece of shit town and here you are repeating your mistakes all over again.”

He’s taunting you, just looking for a fight; any excuse to take out some of the aggression that has sat under the surface as his whole world fell apart. You could give him what he wanted, go head to head and maybe keep him distracted while the clock runs out, but really you would just be prolonging the inevitable. He wanted someone to pay for what had been done to him, and you knew he’d get it. So you looked at him with the sweetest smile you could muster and spit directly into his face. While he was distracted you pushed your chair forward to land on top of him, hoping to disarm him as the gun slides across the floor. He lets out a shriek, hauling you back up by the hair just as Rhett quietly steps through the door behind him. Luke raises his open palm to strike you and as he does Rhett slams the butt of his shotgun against the back of Luke’s head, rendering him unconscious. He steps over his body as he rushes for you, your body shaking as he looks you over, making sure all your injuries are superficial.

“Baby girl look at me, you’re ok y/n. Don’t panic, this isn’t over yet.” He leans down to kiss you and you nod frantically, you know he needs to subdue Luke before he comes to and tries to attack again. Tucking the pistol Luke was carrying into his waistband he hauls his unconscious body off the floor and begins taping his arms and legs together. Flashing lights and sirens fill the quiet and you let out a sob, everything is going to be ok, you two are finally safe.

After nearly an hour of questioning and prodding from the paramedics you are finally free to go, gently placed in Rhett’s truck and tucked inside his arm as he drives you back home. Luke had been arrested, no bail was set and a protective order would be put in place to keep the two of you safe from what was left of the Tillerson family.

You’d let Rhett carry you inside and up the stairs to your room with no complaint, normally you’d fuss at him for babying you but after the events of the night you needed him close.

As he began to remove your shoes you were overcome with emotion, tangling your right hand in his hair and letting out a sob. He startled at the outburst, surging forward to pull you back into his arms, cradling you in his lap and he tried to calm your tears.

“It’s alright sug, just let it out baby I’m right here I got ya.” He was pressing kisses to the side of your head and you didn’t know what was coming over you as you quickly grasped his face and slotted your lips against his. You needed him to be closer, shivering in his arms as you began to yank at his clothes, trying to curl yourself in on him. He tried to pull back to make sure you were really up for what you were asking but you wouldn’t let him, rubbing your clothed core along his ridiculous gaudy belt buckle and sucking his tongue. Giving in to you was as easy as breathing, if he was honest he needed this as much as you the fear of losing you had shaken him to his foundation, if he could convince you to stay he’d make sure you got everything you dreamed of.

Finally stripped bare you lowered yourself onto him, tears still silently spilling from your eyes as you kissed him, the thought that you’d almost given this up mere hours ago was unimaginable. He let you take the lead, grinding down on him and letting his pubic bone catch your clit with each thrust, head thrown back in pleasure as he sucked marks all over your chest. It was pure need thrumming through you both as you cried out and reached your orgasm, whispered I love yous against each others skin while he let you ride it out. Flipping you on to your back he began to chase his own release, wrapping his rough hand around your throat and pulling you into a passionate kiss, he groaned deep into your mouth and came inside you, the heat flooding your abdomen bringing another climax of your own as you both collapsed to the floor a tangle of sweaty limbs.

You must’ve fallen asleep like that because you woke to the sun peering through your window still tangled up in Rhett’s warm embrace on the bedroom rug. You nuzzled into his neck and pressed kisses to his jaw as you felt him stir beside you.

“Wake up sleepy head, need to get us both cleaned up and fed” you cooed at him and he grinned underneath his arm, laugh rumbling through his chest and against yours at the realization that you two hadn’t even made it to bed. He let you haul him up and drag him to the shower, what should have been an innocent soaping up of bodies became a heated affair with you pressed against the shower wall as he fucked you hard until you both were spent and starving.

He knew you still had a lot to talk about, what had happened before your abduction still wasn’t resolved but he didn’t press it, content to just spend the day wrapped up in you. Cece had called you both over a dozen times, full of worry after Royal had come home to tell her what happened. You rang her after breakfast and promised everyone was ok, agreeing to come have dinner later in the week after you’d rested. You knew you’d have to field questions from most everyone in town in the aftermath but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to any texts or messages on social media; just the thought made you nauseous all over again, memory of the feeling of Luke’s hands brutalizing you making you drop the mug in your hands shattering on the ground and making you jump.

Rhett was there in an instant to help you clean it up, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself and tossing the remnants in the trash. You looked up at him letting out another sob, since when had you become such an emotional wreck?! You couldn’t seem to keep it together as you began to apologize over and over, Rhett scooping you up into his arms and placing you on the counter to hug you close.

“Hey, hey none of that ok? You didn’t do anything wrong, you knew this shit would happen and tried to make a clean break; goddamnit I should have let you then I could have kept you safe from all of this.” He felt wretched, he’d blown you off when you said the Tillerson’s would look for revenge and then been forced to watch as you were nearly taken from him as a result of his family’s sins. You shook your head violently now, trying to force the words out because if he blamed himself for one more minute you may explode.

“I shouldn’t have tried to leave Rhett! If I hadn’t run you off last night Luke would have never been able to take me, and we wouldn’t have gone through all this!” You wailed and stuttered as you tried to continue, needing him to understand what had been consuming your thoughts all day. “I don’t ever want to be without you again, I was so scared he’d hurt you or me and we’d never get a future together. You deserve everything baby, I promise I won’t ever leave again just please don’t blame yourself for this anymore.” He couldn’t stop the tears now, didn’t know where yours began and his ended but he pressed himself to you and poured all the love he had into kissing you.

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*1 year later*

Rhett was exhausted. He’d finished up last years circuit in first place, made the finals and won those as well, catching the eye of scouts who signed him immediately for a professional team. Since then he’d been touring and riding in competitions, in and out of hotels but always on the run to get back to you. The season was finally over and he was bone tired, but he drove all night to make it home to your little homestead in Cheyenne in the wee hours of the morning. Moving out of Wabang had been a breath of fresh air, the two of you were thriving in your careers and had bought a small farm on the outskirts of the capital city, a new start just what you both had needed. He trudged up the steps now, quietly trying to enter your house not wanting to wake you so early. But as he entered the living space he saw the bedroom light on and heard soft cries flowing down the hall. There in the warm glow of your shared bedroom was his beautiful wife and 1 month old baby girl, you were singing softly to her as you rocked her in your chair, attempting to soothe the little one back to sleep. His heart swelled at the view, drinking both of you in as he leaned in the doorway, completely enamored.

You looked up at him, sensing his presence from his gaze and cooed down at the baby in your arms. “Look what we have here my sweet little angel, daddy is finally home.”

He crossed the room to gather you both in his embrace, he’d gotten everything he ever wanted.

————————————————————————

Tagging- @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia

[lilavolturi]

Bloody Kisses

Content Warning ⚠️ 🌹🌹Mild smut/BDSM undertones 🌹🌹 co-author @quidditchflyer

Icy cold hands clamped down on my upper arms and pulled me along the chilly hallway of a sprawling castle. No matter the resistance I put up, Arlo’s strength was above mine. He had snatched me off the street, an innocent tourist from America.

“Please..don’t do this!!” I asked of him, but he marched me onward.

“I believe you’ll find yourself quite comfortable here. Anything you want is yours, anything at all,” he spoke so perfectly and cleanly, from a completely different era.

“Don’t let him kill me!!!” I sobbed as I was pushed through the chamber doors of Caius Volturi.

“That’s not up to me, now is it? You’re a gift, so act accordingly. Chin up, no tears,” Arlo said to me with cheer, like a father giving away his daughter at her wedding.

Caius looked up from his book, casting curious eyes my way. His blood red irises chilled be to my bones. My lips trembled as I stared back, eyes wide with terror. The doors were shut behind me, leaving me alone with the cruelest vampire known. Temperamental, prone to violence, and a sexual deviant.

“Welcome. I’ll do my best to make you comfortable and well looked after,” he began, staring me directly in the eyes. “I have a gift for you.”

I wiped tears from my cheeks, trying to not visibly shake. Caius Volturi reached into a drawer by his luxurious bed, producing a silky red box.

“Vampires don’t sleep,” I stated simply as he approached me.

“No, but humans do. Open the box.”

He placed it in my hands and I did as instructed. Nestled in a pillow of red silk was the most striking diamond ring I had ever seen.

“What?”

Caius touched my cheek with cold fingers, unsmiling, and slid the ring on the appropriate finger.

“I’ve been forced to choose another mate. So I chose you. They’ve read your memories..who you are. They think you’ll be a good fit once you’ve gone through the transformation,” he told me in a flat, monotone voice, seemingly annoyed with my presence.

“What happened to..?” I asked before I could remember to hold my tongue.

“I killed her for disobedience.”

Instantly, I shut my mouth and dropped my eyes to my feet.

He lifted my chin with his index finger to make me meet his gaze. “That won’t happen to you. If anyone else touches you, bothers you in any way, I’ll make them dig their own grave.”

I trusted that he was serious, as he didn’t seem to have a sense of humor. “Wh-what do you want me to call you??”

“By my first name, preferably. But I don’t mind a nickname,” he said to me quietly, melting a little around the edges. “Also, we need to see if we’re sexually compatible.”

“You..you’ll break every bone in my body!!” I protested, but I’m hushed by icy cold lips on mine. I recoiled from the undesired attention, but I caught a trace of his scent. Sweet..yet floral and earthy. He smelled so good..

“I have many lifetimes worth of experience,” he told me confidently, cracking a smirk. “But I don’t think I need to be gentle with you.”

I nodded, on the edge of a total anxiety meltdown. Caius showed me no comfort, no kind words.

“Wow,” I breathed, forgetting royal vampire etiquette as I looked him in the eyes. “You’re..beautiful.”

“I know,” he said flatly.

“What should I do now?”

“May I touch you?”

I was shocked by this..a vampire asking for consent to touch me. “Yes. I’m just..nervous.”

He grinned wider, assuming I was a virgin. Caius was delighted by the idea of making me bleed. “First time?”

“No. You’re fucking scary.”

“You’re awful bold, you know that? But..I am pleased by what I see. Show me more,” Caius told me with a sultry tone of voice, hands wanting to roam my body.

I stripped and left my clothes in a pile on the floor. Shivering, I complained of being cold and he made sure the room was warmed to my liking.

Caius looked me over with intense excitement, and I slipped into bed. He followed, slowly dropping his clothes as well. I couldn’t help but stare him up and down, in awe of his physical perfection. My body couldn’t help but react to him, turned on by his sugary sweet scent. He watched me staring as he joined me in the bed, completely nude.

“This is yours, forever, if you live through the change,” he told me softly, taking my hand and placing it on his chilled body.

Caius smiled as he lowered my hand til he wrapped it around his cock. Automatically, I stroked him slowly before taking him into my mouth. He purred with pleasure as he began warming to human body temperature with my touch. He pulled me away and tried to kiss me, but I was scared of getting nicked by his razor sharp teeth.

“I know what I’m doing,” he snapped loudly, hand clamped on my face. He smiled as I winced in pain.

I nodded quickly and Caius kissed me hard, his lips tasting like honey. He was as sweet as he smelled, and I loved it. Unable to hold back, I wrapped my arms around his neck and grabbed a handful of his blonde hair.

“Please..” I whimpered in his ear.

He carefully slid inside of me and I spent a passionate night in the arms of my personal devil.

I had been a resident of the Volturi castle for a month. Other residents looked on me with disgust, but don’t dare bother me. I quickly learned just how feared the Volturi kings were, especially Caius. However, Jane cornered me one evening in the massive library where I sat reading.

“You deserve to die.”

“Why? Because I’m human?” I snapped back with sarcasm.

“You don’t belong here. Vampires of his status deserve royal mates,” Jane replied, her cold monotone never changing.

“You jealous, Jane? Caius already told me everything about everyone. Especially about your bullshit,” I responded with equal coolness, flipping the page. “Touch me, and Caius will have you buried alive in chains.”

I wasn’t aware that Caius was actually listening in on this exchange at first. But I felt a tingly sensation in my spine and I flicked my eyes in his direction. Biting back a grin, I waved at him and he smiled as he came out of the shadows.

“Get out,” he snarled at her, and Jane actually obeyed.

As soon as she was gone, he sat next to me and caressed my cheek. I leaned into his touch, stretching out on the lush couch to lie in his lap.

“It’s time,” he announced quietly, running his cold fingers through my hair.

Determined to go through this with my dignity intact, I stood up and allowed him to take my hand. He led me to a special room specifically meant for feeding purposes, and I had never been more fearful in my entire life. I was facing my own mortality with only a 50/50 chance of surviving the next 3 days.

Arlo, Marcus, and Jane were present as official witnesses to the occasion, following the vampiric laws. I tried to numb myself as protection from my emotions, but that failed me when Caius Volturi got the event going.

“I’ve chosen you as my mate. You will be transformed from human to vampire, of royal status. Over the next three days, you will change. And yes, it will be the most painful experience of your life,” Caius stated, staring down at me where I sat on the edge of a designated bed. It was dressed with all black linens, a symbol of death and rebirth.

“I’m ready.”

I was lying. I was definitely not ready.

He sat next to me, cradling my cheek in his cold palm. I asked for one last kiss in case I didn’t make it. Caius smiled and did so, leaving his delicious, sweet taste on my lips.

I turned my head, willingly offering my neck to him. It happened so fast that pain was delayed for a few seconds. But once it set in, and he finished feeding, it felt like molten iron had been poured into my veins. I was sweating, panting, my heart beating at a strange pace that made my chest ache.

Dying, I thought to myself, I am dying.

With every stuttering beat of my heart, venom raced through my body. My breath caught in my throat as I fell into a black hole of fiery agony. Having lost control of my body, I stared at Caius with rivers of tears streaming down my cheeks.

Before I fell unconscious, Caius showed me his respect for my unwillingness to scream. He sat next to me, cradling the back of my head in his palm as he lowered me onto my back. I fought to stay conscious as long as possible, grabbing my vampire lover’s hand.

“Squeeze if you need to. You cannot hurt me,” Caius said to me softly, treating me so gently. He lowered himself to my level so he could kiss my lips again. “Sleep..”

I was awake…til darkness stabbed his grubby, hooked nails into me. Screaming pain ripped through every cell of my body, feeling as if I’d been flayed. Every nerve was rubbed raw, soaked in salt, and set aflame with rocket fuel levels of agony. Death seemed a relief from this hell, but I knew from the beginning there was no way he’d let me take the easy way out.

I felt like I was in a permanent state of pain purgatory, only able to breathe and open my eyes occasionally.

Floating in the black void, pain faded and a warmth flooded my body. Still paralyzed by the venom, moving was impossible, but I could feel everything. The individual threads of the sheets beneath me..I could smell the ozone in the air as a storm was approaching..and I could smell the floral, honey scent of my mate.

I felt warm fingers touch my face, which encouraged me to take a pain free breath. My eyes slowly opened, seeing that I’m surrounded by the Volturi kings and Jane.

Caius was touching my face, and his touch was no longer ice cold. He felt like the warm touch of a human, and I reached out for him.

“Is it over?” I asked weakly, a burning hunger in my abdomen.

“Welcome to the Volturi clan, young one,” Arlo announced to me with utter joy, all smiles. “Your mate will guide you..teach you everything that you need to know. At nightfall, you will be presented with your first meal.”

“Enjoy your union,” Marcus added, nodding in my direction with respect as if I had always been there.

Caius smirked at me, grasping my hand and leading me to what was now our chamber. As soon as the heavy oak doors shut, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on me.

“I want to show you something,” Caius said, leading me to the full length mirror by the window.

I stared myself down and it was like my reflection belonged to a stranger. My eyes no longer had their beautiful green irises. They were the color of fresh blood, a haunting shade of red. My skin was as smooth and flawless as marble, not one single imperfection. My hair was just as manicured, as were my nails. My once slightly crooked teeth were straight and dangerously sharp.

Caius, for the very first time, complimented my appearance. “Absolute perfection.”

“Your skin…feels different…” I mumbled, still processing my change mentally. “You don’t feel so cold..”

I felt his hands on my shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. His sweet lips placed a kiss on the scar his bite left in my flesh, sending intense tingles down to my lower regions. Caius instantly felt my arousal and he smiled evilly, touching my breasts.

“It’s time to consummate our union,” he whispered in my ear, tightening his grip around my waist. Caius pressed himself against me, equally as excited.

I turned around to face him and stared with my jaw dropped. He was beautiful before, but now he was even more so. Caius smiled back, basking in my admiration.

I had almost completely lost my sense of fear, and I didn’t bother to ask for permission to touch him. He had made me his equal, taking my human life and gifting me immortality. My hands reached up to touch his face, my fingers brushing over his full lips. If I still had a heartbeat, it would have been pounding.

Caius leaned down and kissed my lips roughly, and I slipped my tongue in his mouth. We made out heavily and he ripped my clothes off, flinging them aside before shoving me against a wall. He allowed me to undress him and cover his body with kisses and gentle nibbles.

“I can’t wait to break you in,” Caius snarled in my ear, sucking my neck as he picked me up by my ass.

As he pushed his cock inside of my hungry, soaked pleasure temple, I sank my nails into his back. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, making me moan his name. Thank god the walls were made of stone.

After that mind blowing sensory experience, I begged Caius for more.

“Don’t hold back,” I panted as he tossed me onto the bed with enthusiasm. “Please don’t hold back…”

He was incredible in bed, making me orgasm over and over with zero mercy. Once more, I dug my nails into his back and left surface scratches, making him growl with pleasure.

“You belong to me..” he purred in my ear, rearranging my insides.

Caius gripped my throat as his facial expression began to change. I watched him go from my respected, powerful vampire mate to a man at the mercy of his own intense desires. His pounding into me began to slow down, his beautiful face contorting into an orgasmic display.

After one more hard thrust, he let out a deep groan of pleasure as he came inside of me. I, however, wasn’t finished. I demanded more, pulling him back down on top of me.

“More,” I told him, growling for the first time. Caius was amused, but hushed me with his finger on my lips.

“I’m going to make you wait.”

One rainy afternoon, while I was in my favorite chair reading, Jane decided to give me shit again. I ignored her at first, but her mouth stopped moving..and I could still hear every word.

“Shut the fuck up!” I snapped at her, growling and hissing.

“I didn’t speak..you can read minds?” Jane asked me with curiosity.

I slammed my book shut.

“I know how you think of me. Do a better job of protecting your mind,” I threatened her, feeling leftover human frustrations with my situation.

“Caius has found his angry, bitter match.”

Something inside of me broke into sharp slivers, opening a new ability I never thought I was capable of. I held my ears, dropped to my knees, and let out a piercing shriek that would’ve made a banshee proud. Glass windows split and exploded, the heavy doors to the library slammed shut, and Jane was flung through the air like a rag doll.

Jane expressionless face showed a tinge of fear, which I greatly enjoyed. I stood up and stomped over to the small vampire, hovering above her.

“This has nothing to do with Caius, you pathetic excuse for a vampire. You are below me, do you understand? You will show me respect and follow every order given or I will enjoy ripping you to pieces,” I spat at her, at my very wit’s end with her blatant disrespect.

A slow clapping of hands began. Jane and I looked in the direction of the sound. There stood my mate and his co-ruler Arlo. For the first time, I saw Caius smile.

“You’ve shown us nothing but impressive abilities and excellent leadership skills,” Arlo began, looking as proud as he did the day he gave me to my mate.

“I want her next to me,” Caius told Arlo, mentioning having my own throne put next to his. “Her place is at my side, the first Volturi queen.”

Arlo shot Caius a look of surprise, as Caius was very adhered to the laws and traditions of the Volturi.

“We need to have a meeting and discuss this with Marcus,” Arlo insisted, but he was supportive of having a Volturi queen.

“Marcus doesn’t know his ass from a graveyard,” Caius snorted, rolling his eyes and then smiling at me. I grinned back, licking my lips.

Caius started showing me more simple affection, holding my hand as we went to our private rooms. I leaned into his side and he held me close as we walked, kissing the side of my face.

“You’re absolutely formidable,” he said to me with pride.

“Caius?” I asked softly.

“Yes, my queen?”

“I…love you,” I admitted to him, feeling confident in my words. “I love you..do you feel the same?”

“I’m about actions, not words. But, to state it simply, yes I do.”

I paused our walk and looked up into his eyes, a burning need for physical contact. Caius smirked and kissed me passionately, holding my face in his hands.

I, the first Volturi queen in vampiric history, had thawed the coldest heart.

[brainddeadd]

Ummm mayhaps a request:

In honor of the lovely matching costumes of Matt and Jonathan (srsly had me crying from laughter), perhaps a Halloween party where reader goes as the snowman from Elf and it makes Matt happy

Or idk something along the lines of distracting Matt from the injury he got while they're with the others 🥹

Halloween Party 2024 no. 2

ngl i read this as a baby devil request im so sorry

so this is like some kinda weird ass joint ranger-devils demon party with them not dating

i hope you enjoy even though i royally fucked up

The arena was buzzing with energy as players and staff mingled at the Halloween party. Y/N walked in, beaming in her Snowman costume, complete with a fluffy white outfit, a bright orange carrot nose, and a jaunty top hat perched on her head. She felt cute and ready to enjoy the festivities, blissfully unaware that her costume would soon lead to an unexpected connection.

As she navigated through the throngs of costumed teammates, she caught sight of Matt Rempe and Jonathan Quick across the room. They were an amusing sight: Matt was decked out as Papa Elf, his tall frame enveloped in a cozy red and green outfit, complete with a fuzzy hat and a fake beard. Jonathan, beside him, was the embodiment of Buddy the Elf, with his green and yellow ensemble, complete with a giant smile and an almost contagious enthusiasm.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle as she approached them, catching the end of their playful antics. “Hey, you two! What’s with the get-up?” she called out, crossing her arms and pretending to scold them.

Matt turned, and his face lit up with a grin. “Well, if it isn’t the cutest snowman in the room! Jonathan and I thought we’d bring a little holiday cheer to Halloween. What about you? Did you plan to match us?”

“Match? I had no idea you guys were going as elves!” Y/N laughed, looking down at her fluffy costume. “But hey, snowmen and elves make a pretty good team, right?”

“Absolutely!” Jonathan chimed in, doing a little dance. “Snowman, Elf, and even a little Christmas spirit in October—what could go wrong?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but deep down, she felt a warm flutter at being part of the fun. “I think it’s just a little too early for Christmas cheer, but I’ll take it. You guys look ridiculous!”

“Ridiculously festive, thank you very much,” Matt replied, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Now, come join us! We need our snowman to help us spread the holiday joy!”

Y/N joined them, and as they made their way through the party, they turned heads and elicited laughter from their teammates. Jack Hughes, dressed as a superhero, spotted them and raised an eyebrow. “What is this? A holiday movie or a Halloween party?”

“Why not both?” Matt called back, clearly enjoying the attention. “We’re here to bring cheer to the chaos!”

As they approached the snack table, Matt leaned closer to Y/N, a teasing glint in his eye. “You know, Snowman, you really complete our little holiday trio. We could start a new Halloween tradition.”

“Oh yeah? What would that be?” Y/N replied, trying to keep her tone light, though her heart raced a little at the prospect.

“Dressing up as our favorite winter characters and spreading joy wherever we go,” Jonathan added with a grin. “I can see it now: the Snowman, Buddy, and Papa Elf bringing laughter to every party!”

Y/N laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up her cheeks. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment. But I’m definitely down for some festive fun tonight!”

As the three of them grabbed snacks and laughed at the absurdity of their matching costumes, the camaraderie felt easy and natural. Matt leaned over, snagging a cookie off the table while looking at Y/N. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a snowman, you’ve got a fiery spirit.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Is that your way of saying I’m more like a fire hazard than a snowman?”

“Maybe just a little,” he quipped back, winking.

Just then, the rest of the Devils’ crew, including Jack, Nico, Luke, and Dawson, approached, each of them laughing and shaking their heads at the sight of the trio.

“What a sight!” Jack said, clearly amused. “The snowman with two elves? Didn’t think I’d see that today.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t plan this! It’s all coincidence,” Y/N defended, laughing along with the boys.

“Coincidence or not, you all look like you belong in a Christmas special,” Dawson teased, nudging Matt with his elbow. “And don’t think we’ll let you live it down anytime soon!”

As the playful banter continued, Y/N felt the warmth of friendship enveloping her. The boys’ protective nature shone through as they rallied around her, ensuring she felt included and cherished. Matt's presence was comforting, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that their connection was deepening, even if it was just as friends for now.

As the party carried on, the group moved toward the dance floor, Y/N sandwiched between Matt and Jonathan, feeling the excitement and joy of Halloween, but also the promise of something more on the horizon.

“Alright, let’s show these folks how the Snowman and the Elves can party!” Matt declared, and Y/N couldn’t help but grin widely.

“Let’s do it!” she shouted, ready to embrace the night, the laughter, and whatever came next.

[lowkeychenle]

Try Me On [NJM] (feat. Chenle)

Description: FWB!Jaemin takes you to buy lingerie. You're surprised when he tells you to pick out one Chenle will like too, until you realize what his goal is. A few photos and a video call later, you know you're in for it the next time you see Chenle.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3,073

Content Warnings: So much goes on here lmfao sooo public sex (Jaemin), phone sex (Chenle), one lil instance of a hand necklace (thank you Jaemin), use of the term Princess, Chenle calls them brats yada yada oh and unprotected sex (plz don't do this part)...and use of mirrors.......and taking pics and videos there's a lot okay

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader x Na Jaemin

Author's Note: This is the second installment...so you should read the first part of the AU first, but the poly portion of it is kind of ambiguous right now? They'll get there eventually but the smut needs to progress naturally to that point (bc boo more smut right?)

Opposites Attract [Poly!Jaemle Series Masterlist]

General Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @haeigoo

“Isn’t the whole point of lingerie like, you being surprised?” You furrow your eyebrows at Jaemin. “Plus, what if someone sees you with me?”

“You know we’re still friends in real life, right?” Jaemin chuckles as he walks into the store behind you.

“Male friends don’t usually go with female friends to try on underwear, Jaem,” you remind him, eyes already snagging on a few pieces you like.

“I’m a man, and you need a man’s opinion. Sounds simple enough to me.”

You snort in response.

“It’s not complicated at all, Princess. Plus, I paid them to close the store for two hours so you could find whatever you’d like.” His tone is so nonchalant, you almost miss what he actually said.

“You paid them for what?” Your jaw drops. “Jaemin, what the hell? What if they know who you are?”

“Money solves all problems,” he says. “Stop worrying. The clock is ticking and if I don’t see you at least 90% naked, I’m gonna make you 100% naked in the middle of the store.”

Your cheeks suddenly burn like you’re on fire. There’s not an ounce of humor in his voice.

“While you’re at it,” he pauses briefly, almost like he has to come to terms with what he’s about to say next, “find something Chenle would like, too.”

No way in hell today is happening. It’s completely possible you’re dreaming right now, because Na Jaemin just told you to pick out lingerie sets to wear for him and your other fuck buddy. It’s only been a week since you took both of them at once. Things seemed fairly normal after that—as in, they went back to having completely separate relationships with you.

“Didn’t know you thought of me with Chenle a lot,” you mutter, looking anywhere but at Jaemin.

“At first it was a little bit of an ego shot.” Jaemin’s honesty almost knocks you off your feet. “But it feels normal now. And I’m not going to buy you lingerie to wear for me and not think of the way Chenle has bent you over every surface of your house.”

“Jaem—“

“I never realized how turned on I’d get at the idea of watching you get fucked by someone else. You were so overwhelmed, Princess. It was sexy.” He runs his fingers through his hair, chest rising. “Pick some out for him, too.”

You clear your throat, trying your best to pretend his simple words didn’t have heat swarming inside you. If the offer was on the table, you’d take them both again. The pleasure was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you swear you can still feel it tingling inside you at the mere thought of them.

Jaemin prefers lighter colors. Pinks, whites, baby blues. He likes feigned innocence and purity, fabric that left little to the imagination but still covered you enough to leave him some joy in unwrapping you.

And even though you hadn’t ever dressed in lingerie for Chenle, you have a feeling you know what he likes. Blacks, reds, deep, royal blue. For him, you couldn’t really convince yourself he’d like anything more than he likes seeing you naked.

You pick out four to try on. There’s only one that might spark something for Chenle, but you aren’t completely sure. Jaemin would help you decide.

You head over to the fitting rooms, giving Jaemin a wide-eyed glance when he tries to follow you. The worker stops him.

“Sorry, sir, I can’t let you go in there.” She holds up her hand.

“Ah.” With a sigh, he reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He opens it and grabs a wad of cash, holding it out to the woman. “I don’t even think I’m really here right now.”

Reluctantly, she takes it from him and disappears toward the front of the store. You should scold him for doing something like that, but you can’t help but like it much more than you should.

Jaemin leads you into the room by the small of your back, closing and locking the door behind you. You’re not sure what to expect from him. There’s plenty of space to move around, and he sits on the bench on the far side of the room. You stand between him and the mirror, the skimpy shreds of fabric clutched to your chest.

“You want me to just…”

“Yep.” He grins, raising his eyebrows. “I’ve seen it all, baby.”

“It’s different in this context. What if they look bad on me?” You frown at him.

He scoffs. “(Y/N), in no world are any of those gonna look bad. You’re so sexy, you make me hard no matter what you’re wearing.”

You won’t lie—he boosts your confidence way more than you should allow. If Na Jaemin is calling you sexy, you have to be, right?

“Try Chenle’s on first. We’ll send him a picture.” Jaemin pulls his phone out of his pocket and winks. “Think he’s busy?”

You pull your shirt over your head. “He said he was recording with Donghyuck and Renjun today.”

“Let’s make his day a little harder, huh?” He chuckles to himself, leaning back against the wall as he watches you strip.

His gaze drinks in every inch of your bare skin as you remove the rest of your clothing. You try to ignore the dark look in his eyes once you’re fully naked, really try, but everything he does makes you crave him beyond belief.

The royal blue fabric is intense, despite the lack of material. It’s completely sheer, displaying your already peaked nipples without even a smidge of coverage.

“Fuck,” Jaemin mumbles, shifting forward. “You look so fucking good.”

“I don’t know about that.” You let out a small laugh.

“C’mere. We’ll ask Chenle.” He spreads his legs, and you already know what he wants you to do.

“Jaem…”

“Baby,” he whines. “Come get on your knees and let me show him. You didn’t mind both of us at the same time last week.”

You do as he asks, kneeling in front of him and placing your palms on your knees. Gulping, you patiently wait as he positions his phone to take the photo.

“You look so good,” he says, wetting his lips. “Wanna do one more pose for him?”

Against your better judgment, you nod.

“Put your ass up.” It’s not a suggestion.

You listen, turning around and sliding your chest against the floor. The hardwood is cold on your skin, but Jaemin’s sharp inhale makes you undeniably warm. With a burst of confidence, you spread your legs a but further, knowing you’re giving him a clear view of your pussy.

Jaemin grips your ass while he takes the picture.

“Okay, baby. Get one of the other ones. Hurry, or I’ll have to fuck you in this one before Chenle does.”

Blushing, you get up and grab the pink one you picked out. You barely have time to get it all the way on when Jaemin’s phone buzzes once, twice, three times.

He looks at the screen and chuckles. “Chenle’s mad at me. He said he wants to, and I quote, rip that flimsy fabric off of her and fuck her stupid.”

You’re so weak when it comes to them. Jaemin glances up at you, a dark look in his brown eyes.

“My God, look at you.” He clicks his tongue. “Should we keep playing with him? I think so.”

“We can’t stay here all day,” you warn him. “We’ve already been here for an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll give you the choice then.” He sighs. “You can suck my cock or you can get fucked while I send videos of us to Chenle.”

“This isn’t real.” You laugh, smacking your palm to your forehead. “Jaemin, we’re in public!”

“This is a closed room,” he replies.

His gaze rakes over your body.

“We’ll buy that one, too. Put the white one on and pick an option.”

Your logic doesn’t work when you’re around Jaemin. He offers to fuck you and you melt into a puddle immediately no matter where you are or what you’re doing. Your body knows he doesn’t stop until you’ve finished, and now you crave release.

“We gotta be fast, babe.” He unbuttons his pants as you put the white set on. “Please, please pick getting fucked. I’ve been so hard this whole time.”

If you’re going to commit to this, you’ll act the part, too. You put on the best seductive face you can, moving slowly over to him until you’re standing between his legs.

“I’m buying you all of these,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Too fucking sexy.” He turns you around so you’re facing the mirror, his fingers trailing up your bare sides and sneaking under the white lace.

You gasp when he yanks you down onto his lap, hands resting on your hips. He chuckles lowly, kissing from your shoulder to your jawline.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, eyes nearly rolling when his touch ghosts along your inner thighs.

“Just making sure you’re ready for me.” He squeezes your leg.

“I’m ready.” You grind down the best you can, living for the way he hums in response.

He releases you, allowing you to stand up while he pushes his jeans down. Reaching into his boxers, he pulls himself out of his boxers, stroking a couple times before he beckons for you to join him. You climb over him and make sure to face the mirror while you straddle him. The uncomfortable plastic of the bench digs into your knees, but as Jaemin slides the thin fabric covering your heat aside, you don’t even think of it.

“God,” he groans when he slides a finger along your entrance. “You must fucking love the thought of both of us, don’t you?”

“You might like it a little more than me,” you tease him.

You barely get the sentence out before he’s guiding his throbbing cock into you. Once he’s fully inside, every word you considered saying next has disappeared, and all that’s left is how good he feels. The stretch is a little harder to take without foreplay, but he allows you time to adjust.

“Princess,” he mutters against your ear. “You brought him into this. I’m being good and sharing, is that not what you want? Because I can just as easily keep you for myself.”

You lift yourself up with his guidance, moaning when he thrusts up to meet you on the way back down. He inhales sharply, grabbing his phone.

“Keep going,” he commands.

It’s hard to move in this position, so you’re not able to ride him the way you usually would, but the lack of mobility sends more wetness to your core. You’re desperate to take all of him. Focusing on his pleasure, you ignore the ache forming in your thighs.

His hand travels over the expanse of your stomach, and from the way you see him holding his phone in the mirror, you know he’s recording. You try your best to move faster, wanting to give the recipient of the video that much more material. He finds your clit rubbing it just enough to have you moan loudly and jolt your hips before he stops.

He drops his head against the wall, ending the recording and sending it to Chenle.

“How does it feel, Princess?” he asks, touch dancing along your collarbone. The soft fabric of his sweatshirt presses into your back, and you wish more than anything you could feel his bare skin against yours. He gives your throat a quick squeeze. “You’re stuffed full of my cock, and Chenle’s watching that video wishing he was me.”

You let out a weak laugh. “Jaem, are you getting jealous?”

He fully wraps his hand around your neck and tugs you back until he’s talking in your ear. “Careful, baby,” he warns you. “Don’t give me a reason to be.”

His phone vibrates with an incoming call against the bench, and you stop moving. You settle onto his lap even though your entire body begs you to continue. Jaemin answers, but he doesn’t have time to say anything before Chenle starts scolding him.

“What part of I’m recording with Renjun and Donghyuck did you two not fucking understand?” His voice sounds strained. “You fucking brats.”

“Keep going, Princess.” Jaemin pats your leg before returning his attention to Chenle. “She looks sexy in white, doesn’t she?”

You resume your motions, trying to set a steady pace while Jaemin rubs your thigh.

“Fuck you, Jaemin,” Chenle groans, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “I don’t have a lot of time, and I’m hard as hell. Can’t believe I’m stuck recording while you’re fucking our girl.”

Our girl. You whimper at the words, and you’re not sure if the twitch of Jaemin’s cock buried deep inside you is from you or Chenle.

Your legs burn at this point, but when the signature FaceTime sound starts, you don’t dare slow down your pace. Jaemin feels heavenly inside you, and the thought of Chenle watching has you dripping down your thighs. You forget you’re in public for a moment, moans falling from your lips as Jaemin positions the phone in front of you. He uses his knees to spread you apart further, and he sinks a little further inside you.

Chenle has the perfect view of you riding Jaemin.

“You’ve always been too easy on her,” Chenle growls. “Play with her tits.”

You’re surprised Jaemin listens to the other’s command. He immediately slides his hand beneath the white fabric and tweaks your nipple. Your hips jerk and you’re so close to begging him to make you cum. You feel the high approaching, but you need more. His length is heavenly inside you, but it’s not enough to push you over the edge, and both he and Chenle know that. Your clit throbs, screaming at you to give it attention.

“She doesn’t get to finish,” Chenle says. “Fuck her until you’re done, but she doesn’t deserve it yet.”

You cry out in protest.

“She’s so pretty when she cums, though.” Jaemin pouts, moving down until his fingers tease your lower stomach.

“My God, please.” You move faster. “Please, I need it so bad.”

“Don’t you hear her?” Jaemin hums. “I always make my princess cum. What are you gonna do about it?”

His fingers connect with your clit, and you let out a much too-loud moan as your hips jerk. You move faster on top of him, wanting nothing more than to fall apart. Right before the high washes over you, he stops.

“Fuck,” you hiss, trying to get that feeling back.

Chenle’s breath hitches, and the sounds coming from his end of the phone tells you he’s fisting his cock right now.

“I’ll punish both of you.”

Jaemin’s length twitches inside you, and this time, you know it’s from Chenle. Warmth floods your legs as all sorts of images flash across your mind. You don’t want to be punished, but you desperately want to cum. Your body aches, and there’s an intense pressure building in your abdomen that makes your skin sticky with sweat and your core flutter around Jaemin.

Smirking, he finds your clit again. Almost like he knows what’s going to happen, he drops his phone and covers your mouth with his hand, muffling your scream of pleasure as your walls clamp down on him. Your vision turns white, and you barely notice what happens next between your delirious state and the way Chenle’s moans filter through the phone.

Jaemin pulls you off him and turns you around so he can look at you. You’re back on his lap within seconds, and he tugs you down until you’re filled with him all over again. He seems to have forgotten about the other man. He thrusts upward, nails digging into your hips to pull you down every time.

Another few seconds later, and his head is falling back against the wall with a thud as his warm cum fills you. He gives himself a moment to calm down, and then he grabs his phone. With your head buried in his neck, you shy away from the camera.

“Both of you better be at my fucking house in the next half an hour, understood?” Chenle’s voice is low and a bit scratchy. “I’m getting out of here, and by the time I get home, both of you better be waiting.”

“One more thing,” Jaemin says. He wraps his arm around you and lays you back against the bench. As he slides his cock out of you, he positions his phone so Chenle has a clear view of Jaemin’s cum leaking out of your pussy and gathering on the ruined lingerie.

“Don’t piss me off even more.” Chenle huffs. “Half an hour, Jaemin. I’m not playing with you.”

“We’ll see.” Jaemin grins widely, winking at his phone before hanging up. He tosses it to the side, returning his attention to you. “Are you okay, Princess? That wasn’t too much, was it?”

“I’m good.” You nod, closing your eyes. “We definitely have to buy this one now.”

He chuckles, helping you sit up. “I already paid for all of them. Did you really think I’d fuck you in it and then pay for it? I’m not a monster.”

You stand on your shaky legs, and he helps you remove the ruined fabric and grabs your clothes. Once both of you are fully dressed, he goes out to the cashier to get a bag. You put all four sets into it. When you see yourself in the mirror, you cringe at how messy you look. There’s no way that woman out there won’t know what happened in here—if she hadn’t heard you first.

You don’t look at her as you follow Jaemin out of the store. He flashes his dazzling smile at you, and you’re not sure why that sends a flutter to your heart.

“Guess we’d better go to Chenle’s, huh?” He raises his eyebrows. “He’s not very happy with us.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” You pout but nod anyway.

He laughs and throws his arm over your shoulder. “You were literally fucking yourself on my cock, babe. I think that counts as something.”

Even with your legs shaking as you walk to Jaemin’s car, everything inside you tingles with excitement at the thought of Chenle punishing you.

[fan-a-tink]

Wille & his family

If you think about it, Young royals is a story of many journeys, but one of the most central ones has been Wille’s journal away from his family. 

He starts the series with his family deciding that he will change schools. He tells them he doesn’t want to but is ignored. When Erik dies he spends what feels like two days with his family, trying to grieve together, but his mother immediately tries to get him involved in his role as crown prince. After all the shit with the video been leaked, his mother makes Wille apologize for it (still think this is one of the most fucked up things to happen in this show) and forces him to make a statement denying (himself) that it was him in the video, thereby betraying Simon, hiding his queerness and ruining his relationship. But Wille does this because this is his family and he has trusted them his whole life, and he doesn’t dare to take the leap and rely on Simon whom he’s only known for a few weeks/months at this point. And then he is betrayed by his family, when he finds out that Kristina knew it was August and didn’t tell him and is also still actively protecting August by deciding not to prosecute him. This is a key moment, because Wille learns that the foundations of his life, his family, was ultimately completely fine with betraying him and forcing him to do the speech. 

In season 2, we see the fallout of that betrayal, the aftermath. With Wille shutting out his mother, refusing to talk with anyone from the court etc. They try to take him from the school, to regain some control over his actions, but he manages to make a fragile peace with his mother by agreeing to see a therapist. His mother seriously believes that she doesn’t need to address her son’s struggles personally in any way, as a mother, and instead just makes Wille someone else’s responsibility. This is another important step, because the queen’s plan backfires and Boris is actually helping Wille realise that he doesn’t have to be defined by his family’s rules and it is possible for him to go after what he wants. At the end of season 2, when he makes that speech, he takes his first definite step away from his family, signaling to them that he will try to live his life on his own terms. 

And in season 3, we learn that this lead to the Queen having a breakdown. I know she always says it’s all about Erik, but she was dealing with that before and the only thing that has changed is that Wille has started standing up for himself. Now throughout season 3 Wille and his family are in a tricky situation: Wille collaborates with the royal court for his work as a prince and for his and Simon's safety, but he is completely on his own in his family. He receives help and support from Farima, not his parents. The Queen’s illness puts pressure on him to be ready for the crown, and at the same time no one in his family wants to really speak about it and when he meets his mother she pretends that everything is fine. Then even his belief in Erik is shattered, and he has to question the only thing he really held on to with his family: his brother and the ideal he represented, the responsibility he felt to continue Erik's legacy. All of this leads to the confrontation in episode 5, where he rightfully calls out his family for never supporting him throughout any of it. He literally yells at his father „I am your only son now. Can you see me?“ and tells Kristina that she is doing a shit job of both being a mother and the Queen. And they prove him absolutely right by just refusing to engage with him, and just leaving the room because they can’t handle the situation. 

So at the point we’re at now, Wille is the furthest away from his family he has ever been. He starts out sitting in between them when he gives his first speech after the fight at the club in episode 1. And he has become completely isolated from all of them by the end of episode 5 of season 3. Does that mean he will go one step further and turn down the responsibility of being crown prince and abdicate? I don’t know. But his journey throughout three seasons has definitely been going in that direction. He becomes more and more estranged from his family and has realised more and more that he can’t rely on them for emotional support, or rely on them to even just consider him in the decisions they make that affect his life. A part of me wants him to just get away from them and make his own way in the world. But another part also wants Kristina and Ludvig to step up and become the parents that Wille deserves and needs. 

[piebingo]

Some more young royals fanfic recommendations for you to enjoy

What lies within | chaptered | completed | by museraphoria

Wilhelm is barely fifteen when he becomes the sole survivor of a tragedy that takes the lives of his entire family. Lost between guilt and grief, Wilhelm finds himself wielding powers he never asked for, and forced to give up his only chance at a normal life.

As he attempts to pick up the pieces of his former self, his best friend Simon remains by his side, more than willing to embark on this journey with him. While Wilhelm trains to wage war on crime and injustice, his feelings for Simon start to change, and he soon must choose between living a lie or risking to lose the person who matters the most to him.

or, the Wilmon!Superhero AU everyone deserved

I don’t think I had ever read a superhero AU before so this was fun! I loved the way the characters were written and it’s one I definitely need to reread.

Oh love, tell me we’re not tragic | chaptered | completed | by starrystoryteller

"You got to be fucking kidding me," He sighs, his mom sending him a pointed look at his choice of words. He tries to twist his features into an apologetic expression but it's a lost cause as his eyes stay glued to the image on the television. He narrows his sight in on the youngest of the princes, eyes catching on the badly covered scar just under his eye. The Crown's attempt at covering up his mistake is futile.

an enemies to fwb to lovers wilmon fic

This is like the definition of idiots in love, where you just want to smash them together and make them see sense. I loved it.

You’re the cutest Jailbird I ever did see | oneshot | completed | by pagegirlintraining and TheAmberFox / @pagegirlintraining @the-amber-fox

If you asked Simon and Wille, neither of them could tell you exactly how they ended up inside a cell at the Bjärstad police department for getting in a fight with August and his friends. The thing is, neither of them is mad that they ended up there together. Will our two favourite idiots figure out by themselves why they are ready to smack people for each other or will it take some princely meddling?

They are the absolute cutest in that fic, and there’s one thing I enjoyed very much. Anything by those two authors (both separately and as a duo) is amazing and this is no exception.

You are unbreaking | chaptered | completed | by unfortunate17 / @unfortunate17

The dagger at Simon’s hip weighs more than it had when he’d first strapped it to himself this morning.

Wille gentles an arm around his shoulders, pointing out exotic birds and plants, explaining their respective habitats, their food habits. The vulnerable skin of his throat is unguarded, the tender flesh near his heart covered only by thin, white cotton. It would be quick, Simon promises himself, painless even. Wilhelm need not unnecessarily suffer.

“– back inside?”

Simon blinks up at him.

Wille’s shading his eyes, brows knitted together in faint concern as he looks down at him.

Simon feels himself flush. “Sorry, I missed what you said.”

Or, Wille is the second born son of Queen Kristina. Simon is the fool who marries him with the goal of assassinating him and bringing an end to the tyrannical monarchy. It doesn't go according to plan.

I was on the edge of my seat with this one. I love this kind of more medieval setting and the premise of that one?? Simon being there to assassinate Wille? Sign me UP. You won’t be disappointed.

I love the way you lie | chaptered | completed | by itsme_hi_imtheproblem / @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Prince Wilhelm can't seem to catch a break. When he is pulled into yet another scandal through no fault of his own, he is desperate enough to try one last thing to salvage his image: A publicly staged fake relationship.

Simon Eriksson is a struggling young artist, trying to make a name for himself and tired of the obstacles he faces on his way into the music industry. He'll take any publicity at this point.

A pact is made. Strictly business.

What could possibly go wrong?

When done right (for my taste ofc, there’s no real right or wrong way in creativity and art!!), I love a good fake relationship. And this one is done super right imo. Erik is alive, and wilmon is full of feelings and I was too when reading.

You don’t have to hurt anymore | chaptered | completed | by wilmonxoxo

Running from his mother and her unattainable expectations, Wilhelm finds solace at his brother’s house in Bjärstad. It was there he found a sense of belonging, a sense of hope, that, maybe one day, he too could be brave like Erik and leave his tumultuous household.

It only took one night for the boy next door to catch his eye. The boy who lived in the house where screaming and fighting seemed to be a constant, who shooed away help like his life depended on it but seemed to crave it so deeply in his soft brown eyes.

“I just wanna be friends with you. Everyone needs a friend.”

"Bullshit.”

Because since the first night they met, Simon saw the way Wilhelm looked at him. It was the way this whole fucking town looked at him but worse. Like he was broken, weak, someone who needed to be saved by the cute, privileged boy next door even though he’d been protecting his family for as long as he could remember - even the one who was destroying them.

"Why do you say that?”

“Because I see the way you look at me, Wille."

Because I think I might look at you the same way and I don’t just wanna be friends with you, either.

This one was very interesting to read and pretty angsty (at least to me, I don’t read much heavy angst). I loved how important of a role Erik had too. Very interesting dynamics.

Other recs: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6