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ichore · 4 months ago

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STUDY OF A SCANDAL | NEUVILLETTE

synopsis: a starving journalist, the iudex of fontaine and reader, the most talented soprano of teyvat all attend a ball at the opera epiclese where one scandal follows another as a storm does not allow anyone to leave.

tags, warnings: heavy drugs (aphrodisiac, ecstasy), involuntary drug consumption, neuvillette x afab!reader, reader is a talented singer, reader is secretly a water creature as old as Neuvi, MONSTER FUCKING, Neuvillette's takes reader in semi dragon form, journalist is a pos, cunnilingus, p -> v, unprotected, oh the consequences

wc: est 3.3k

It begins with a tear rolling down on the porcelain skin of the Iudex of Fontaine's full cheek.

As you stand tall all alone on the platform of the Opera Epiclese, not a shred of whisper or mumble leaves the people of the water nation - it's only your voice that vibrates in between their bodies, it crawls at the high walls and crimson drapes and threatens to never leave. You've sung these songs many times across all of Teyvat; you're considered an Honored Guest wherever you decided to set foot. But your heart belongs to Fontaine, and such is evident in the way your gaze lingers on its people ahead of you.

Then, as if it's supposed to be part of your show, as the last note of your last song bubbles in your throat, a clash of thunders shakes the building.

The Melusines are quick on their short legs to inform everyone to stay inside, and whereas there's no need to worry, it would be best if everyone waited in the Opera Epiclese until the storm ended. Curses and hisses rumble across the people meanwhile the Iudex of Fontaine leaves his seat and his noiseless steps carry him to his office. It's only you who notices how his shoulders rise and fall in the familiar motion of weeping, how his cloth napkin soaks in the tears that escape him despite his greatest effort to soothe himself.

“If it's fine with everyone,” you begin with your voice exhausted and slightly croak from your show. “I have enough cakes and fruits to invite everyone for a spontaneous little ball to spend the time. I'm sure my colleagues would love to entertain you with their music, as well.”

The storm is almost like a gift to you: finally you don't have to worry about wasting all the precious food that people gift you. Usually you give the majority away for the poor, but because finding such families takes time, a good amount still spoils. Such kindness in your heart is the second reason Teyvat adores you, and that same tenderness makes you rush after the Iudex with your dress held a bit higher in your fists so you don't trip.

“Excuse me?” you hear a nervous male voice call out to you, and you reluctantly stop in your tracks to offer a smile to the journalist standing ahead of you. He's skinny, too skinny to be healthy, you think. His hair crown is already fading from the top of his head, the lilac bruise of exhaustion rests under his eyes, but you suppose that he cannot be more than thirty.

“I'm happy to give you an interview later. I'm rather busy with something right now, I hope you don't mind.” you say.

“No, not at all. I just wanted to give you this.” He pulls out a heart-shaped, crimson silk wrapped box from under his arm. Chocolate, more food, great. “I know what you're thinking, but this is the Iudex's favorite and the filling is the finest Valberry jam from Mondstadt. It's very hard to get a box of these nowadays.”

“Oh, my,” you fill your heart sink at the thought of the trouble this poor man went through just to please you, and the furrow of your brow lets him know that you're sold before you take away the box. “I can't thank you enough. Is it okay with you if I share it with the Iudex? You mentioned it's also his favorite.”

“Well, yes, of course. Please enjoy. But I suppose you're in a hurry, so I shall leave you to it.” he bows as he takes your free, white silk cloaked hand and presses your knuckles against his chapped lips. “It was a pleasure meeting you. You're just as beautiful and kind as the rumors say so.”

“Thank you, once again.” you bob a quick curtsy to him before leaving him behind. He watches the white, lacy patterns on the bottom of your turquoise dress wash against the floor as you continue your hurried steps to one Melusine to another to find Monsieur Neuvillette. A smirk deepens at the side of his mouth as he watches you open the box and eat the first piece of chocolate while you wait to be let into his office, and he's already thinking about just how many good pictures he's going to take of you and the Iudex.

A shiver runs across your spine, gooseflesh blooms on your skin when you finally stand ahead of Neuvillette. He's facing his high windows, taking in the view of the year's most brutal storm: trees are bending and breaking, the wind carries away the flowers of the streets and he notices some personal possessions fly across the asphalt. As the Iudex, he's already thinking about how to fix this mess. But as Neuvillette, he can't stop his body from shaking.

“Apologies for leaving without a word. Your show was most exquisite … it touched my soul in ways I cannot find the words to describe.” The tremble in his voice is enough for you to understand the waves of emotions that wash through him.

“Don't worry, Monsieur. Knowing my music has these effects on such a great man like yourself is a compliment on its own. I will remember it for the rest of my life with pride.” Despite him having his back facing you, you can see on the reflection of the window that his usually bright gaze is darker and they're fixated on your form. You offer a slight curtsy, and you swear it's only a long second that you close your eyes for, yet when you lift your chin, he's standing closer to you with his face ahead of yours. He's so close, you can smell the lavender oil the Melusines treat his luscious hair with and the sea salt that they use to wash his clothes.

“And proud is what you should be,” he begins. “It's been a long time since I've felt such an emotional turmoil. Yet, I don't think the language you sing in is familiar to me.”

“It's a dead language,” you nod. Your fingers begin to play with the material of your dress at your sides. “My mother taught it to me when I was little. I know phrases and words, but I can't tell you where the language is from or who used it.”

“No one else speaks this language, yet you manage to touch all of Teyvat with it. You're a real talent, and it's been my pleasure to have you visit our nation.”

“Oh, it's been a pleasure more of mine, really.” You flash your pearly white teeth at him in a smile, and you swear that at the same second, from his window, you can see the storm lose its vigor and turn into a windless pour of rain. “I just wanted to check upon you, and share this box of chocolate with you at the same time if it's fine with you. A kind gentleman gave this to me saying that this is your favorite.”

“Strange, I can't recall ever seeing, let alone tasting such a dessert from Mondstadt.” He hums against the side of his index finger while musing. In the back of your mind, you already know that someone would lie about such a thing, but a strange, hurricane-like sensation washes across you as you stare at the man towering right ahead of you. The distinct color of his eyes, the ivory color of his healthy locks, the perfect pale skin are all calling to you for a touch, and you press your thighs together as your liquid desire begins to swell in between your folds. “How was it?”

“I'm sorry, what was the question?” you shake your head and laugh a little to be able to tear your stare away from him. The heat is already rising to your head, painting your cheeks rosy with a deep blush.

“I can see you already ate one. Was it to your liking?” the vibrations of his voice are more apparent, you realize, and it pains you that you can't swallow them in a kiss right now.

“Yes, Monsieur. I think it's quite nice. Has a little bit of a strange aftertaste, but otherwise it's delicious. The Valberry jam filling is extraordinary. ”

“Please, call me Neuvillette,” he returns your smile as he takes one of heart shaped chocolates into his mouth before he motions towards the couch, insisting that you sit down while he places the box on his table. “It's delicious indeed. I suppose I can trust your judgment when it comes to sweets in the future.”

“Thank you, Neuvillette.” You whisper. Sweat already begins to pearl at your hairline and on your nape by the time he takes off his cloak and his weight sinks into the couch so painfully close to you, you can feel his thigh brush against yours through your dress.

“If it isn't too much to ask,” he begins. “Can you tell me what the story is behind your last song?”

“Well… it's a love story. A tragic one.” his colors appear brighter and clearer with each passing second, his icy appearance calling to you for a release from this burning that consumes you within. You can't look him in the eyes anymore, you realize while watching your fingers get lost in the vibrant color of your skirt. “It's about two lovers who were washed apart by the Archons and the primordial sea, never to see each other again, forced to spend their entire lives yearning for the other. But one day, they meet, but one doesn't remember the other anymore.”

“Sounds Fontanian,” Neuvillette muses as he loosens the knot on his scarf, revealing his swan-like neck to you. “Apologies, it's awfully hot in here today.”

“No worries,” you offer a smile, but the first sweat drop already begins to roll down on your temple and in your thoughts, you're mumbling thousands of curses at how tight your corset is. Yet, you do not find yourself wishing for air, but yearning to steal it from Neuvillette’s lungs. “My mother was from Fontaine, so it does make sense that the language originated from somewhere here.”

“Makes it even stranger that I can't recall hearing it before, however - ”

“Neuvillette …I,” you cut into his words, hesitating to continue your words, but you're certain that you're edging closer and closer to fainting if you don't get some air soon. “It's very unethical of me to ask you, but would you be so kind as to loosen my corset for me a little?”

“Of course,” and the moment you touch his reached out hand to help you stand up, you wish you could tell him that it doesn't matter anymore and that you just need to go outside. But the rain is still pouring and the haze on your mind refuses to leave. The touch of his fingers are ever so delicate and delicious as they open the back of your dress to get to your corset. Your neck tilts and a sigh leaves your lips as the pressure on your ribs eases, and in your moment of relief, you don't notice Neuvillette's halt in his movements.

The sight of the crook of your neck invites him in for a kiss as his arms circle around your waist under your dress - at first, his touches are unsure, but as a satisfied hum leaves you, his arms tighten around you and his kisses travel from your neck to your jaw. Your eyelashes flutter when your gaze meets his, as if to give him permission to his begging eyes, that yes, he can very much kiss you. His lips feel like the sweetest sea foam: so delightful and gentle, and you can finally feel your lungs be filled with his being. You push your dress down, making it pool around your feet while Neuvillette's hands brush up on your belly to reach the front of your corset before pushing it off you and letting it fall on the dress.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, and you feel his cock twitch against your ass as he begins to fondle your breasts. He swallows every whimper that escapes your lips when he takes each of your nipples in between his fingers, playing a rough game with them. “I adore your voice, the noises you make. The thought of making you sing in pleasure for me is driving me mad. Please, let me make you mine.”

“I'm yours, all yours,” you're ready to beg for more, but as if he can read your thoughts, he lays you across the couch before he frees you of your panties, panty hoes and shoes. For a brief second, you can hear a clicking sound from the distance, but the desire entirely engulf you both that you don't notice the barely open entrance door and the journalist with his camera. If this all wasn't for him being able to put bread on his table, he would've admitted that there is something magical about the way Neuvillette's tongue finds all the right spots in your cunt. It really does make a sensational picture: the Iudex of Fontaine devouring Teyvat's most famous soprano like his life depends on it.

But for Neuvillette, that feeling is as real as your hands holding onto his ivory hair. For a while, he wondered what got into him, but his words to you were true and the sounds that escape you makes him throw away every logical reasoning as to why he shouldn't suck on your clit or push his tongue so deep into you that it makes you cry out.

“Right there, hng, please -” his eyes that were fixated on you the whole time now roll back as he feels the gush of your ecstasy pour into his mouth. He can't help, but get rid of his own clothes in fast but drunken movements, and he's ready to get back on top of you before something feral awakens in him. It's the glowing of his irises that you notice first between your thighs, then you swear that you can see his tongue stretch and part into two at its tip while his suddenly longer nails rake across your sides. This time, he's eating at you with primal hunger while one of his grip finds his growing cock and strokes it in the same fast rhythm his tongue dances inside you. You scream, you squirm, but it only makes him become all the more fast and rough as his upper lip rubs against your clit.

“What the fuck,” the journalist mumbles under his breath, his eyes widening in terror as Neuvillette's lower body grows navy blue scales, a forked tail emerges from the end of his spine and his dick is becoming dark and enormous enough that seemingly only the tip would be enough to fill you up. With shaky hands, he takes a picture.

“So it is you, hng, fuck-” you try to tell Neuvillette as another, but more powerful climax numbs your mind. Your heart flutters at the man standing ahead of you, and your love is the only thing that helps you think straight. “I've been looking for you my whole life, Hydro Dragon, my love.”

“You're not terrified…” Neuvillette notes, his chest sinking with a sigh of relief before he questions what you said to him. It's an animalistic instinct that makes him kneel between your legs, rubbing his entire length across your folds to coat it in the mixture of his spit and your sticky juices. A whimper leaves your lips each time his thick head threatens to push into your entrance. “You're not human either, are you?”

“No,” you say simply as green scales begin to form on your thighs where Neuvillette is stroking you before they disappear again. Fighting your lavender haze of lingering orgasm, you sit up to take his tip in your palm to rub it for him as you continue. “I'm a siren. So don't worry, I can take this.”

“The song…” his brows furrow as you position his cock against your pussy, and begin to push yourself against it. It's painfully slow: he can feel every crook and cany of your insides, the blood in your veins welcoming him, the very wetness and warmth of you swallowing him so eagerly until his balls meet your ass. He shudders.

“It's about us, my love. You forgot about me.” You moan as you feel your insides adjust to his size. No matter how many human lovers you took over the millennium, no one and nothing ever compares to Neuvillette.

“Forgive me,” his lizard-like tongue dances along with yours as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you up into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist, your arms hold him in a sweaty embrace as he begins to slowly pull you up and down on the length of his cock. “Forgive me.”

“It was never your fault, hng, please go faster.” you beg of him as you look down at the sight of the two of you. His legs are of a dragon, his black claws digging at the wooden floor to hold himself in place as he begins to pick up the pace.

“I remember this,” he whispers as he loses himself in the feeling of you wraps around his entire being: your sound, your smell, your eyes. He remembers it all now, and his thrusts become rougher as if he feels angry at all the years you didn't spend together. Not only did they take you from him, they didn't even leave the memory of you. Tears begin to pour from his eyes as he kisses you again, his arms tighten around you and his thrusts become sloppy, but the clenching of your orgasm pushes him over his own pinnacle and he paints your walls white with his seed.

“Don't cry, my love,” you stroke his hair while his tears fall on your collarbone after he gently places you on the couch and he lays on top of you, his body slowly transforming back to human. “We found each other, that's all that matters.”

“What about you? Your loneliness? Your fright?” his voice shakes, and you can hear another powerful wind jerk at the buildings outside.

“I've always known we'd find our way back to each other. When I was lonely, I always recalled nights like this or when you were crying because of a song about a fish family when my parents invited you over to their coral palace. I've always remembered the kindness of your heart, and I carried it with me as my companion.” you comfort him and a smile tugs at your lips as the gray clouds begin to part on the sky, and the sunlight seeps through. You think about asking Neuvillette if he wants to check on the guests, but you find him with his eyes closed and deep in a slumber.

As you are trapped beneath him and you can't hear music anymore, you suppose that everyone else already left and you can also rest.

Until you hear the click sound of a camera.

“Needless to say, you're fired,” the Chief Editor of Steambird doesn't even bother to open the envelope that contains the erotic pictures of Neuvillette and you before she tears it into shreds. “Drugging the Iudex AND a Teyvat famous star? What were you even thinking? Hell, I even doubt you were thinking at all.”

“But…” the journalist begins, but the Editor holds up her hand to halt his words.

“You're to leave this company effective immediately. And if I were you, I'd be crawling on my knees to Monsieur Neuvillette for an apology and a huge thank you for not having you executed for treason.”

And with two boxes of worthless papers and without a penny in his pocket, the only mortal who knows your love story and your true being becomes your enemy.

#neuvillete x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #iudex neuvillette #header painted by Francesco Paolo Hayez #tw: monster fucking #tw: drugs #tw: smut

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the-californicationist · 5 months ago

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Picking Flowers

@pricesugarwife left this amazing comment on one of my posts and i couldn't get it out of my head...

pricesugarwife: Nos complaces con un smut Hades!Price x Persefone!Reader??? *se arrodilla*

te amo griss!! espero que te guste esta historia que escribí para ti, nena. 🩷🩷

TW: rape/non-con/cnc elements, loss of virginity, corruption, very bad greek mythology knowledge (sorry, it's just make believe okay jeez)

In a grove in Hellas, long, long ago…

Before you opened your eyes, you already knew what you would see. Slowly, as sleep fell away from you, like the warmth of a blanket being pulled away from your body, a heavy darkness giving way to light, you could see a warm, egg yolk glow behind your eyelids. The sun had cut a path through your windowpane, and now it cast itself like a spell, masking its burn over your face. When you opened your eyes, you would squint through your lashes, looking up through the green mottled leaves, neon, blinding, of the twisted yew outside of your window. You could smell your mother’s bread baking in her old dutch oven, hints of oregano and pepper wafting through your room, bringing the warmth of the hearth with them. You could almost taste the crispy crust, roasted to perfection, protecting the soft, textured middle.

Finally, you peeked between your lashes, and before you, your self-made dream came true. The sun filtered in through your glass a little less bright than what you had imagined, but the greens were there, and they reminded you that today was your favorite day: the arrival of Spring.

“Sephie! Are you awake?”

Your mother’s sing-song voice fluttered down the hall and tucked itself through the crack of your bedroom door. She always knew when you woke up, and although you’d never questioned it, you had to admit it was uncanny. You chalked it up to the wonders of motherhood. She seemed to know every other thing about you, so why question it?

“Yes, Mom. Coming!” You called back, your own voice a little stronger, a little less like a delicate lark, a little more like a robin.

You were very much a late bloomer, still living with your mother at almost twenty years of age, especially when most of the girls in your village had suitors or proposals by sixteen. But, you didn’t let it bother you. As your mother was ready to remind you, the thread of your life was your own, and you would follow its path until the end, whether you wanted to or not. If Lachesis had measured your life out to be this way, then that was that. Why question it?

You pulled on your robes, woven on your family loom of the finest silk threads. You had begged your mom to add a tight spiral of cyclamen along the hem, the flowers so familiar, their pink heads watching you as you followed your daily path to the river. So, she had insisted that you try. You were well enough a woman now, and more than skilled enough to craft your own clothes. And you had; it had been easier than you thought, and you added a few glass beads in that same heart-shaped petal to the tips of the cord of your belt.

You owned no looking glass, but you never noticed its absence. There was so much more to do than to stare at something you couldn’t change. Focus on what you can do, your mother’s voice haunted your mind, not on what is already done. Besides, your mother insisted that you were beautiful, so why question it?

“Here, my darling,” your mom tapped you under your chin, handing you a cloth satchel full of bread, fruit, seeds, and dried meats, “Before you go to the river, please check on the well. It should have clear water for you to fill this skin. Fill it again on your way home. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t, Momma. I promise.”

“That’s my good girl.”

You were out of the door and heading down the hill to the well before you knew it, the feel of the soft grass comforting your heels, cold and damp from the morning dew. The village below you was coming alive, its people tending to their new lambs, planting seeds in the black, fertile soil, carrying buckets of water to and from the olive groves, pruning the dead branches away from the new growth on each branch. Their bustle and laughter as they worked together made you long to live in town. But, your mother had insisted that the town and its people would just be a distraction, and you’d never experienced such a thing; why question it?

When you approached the well, you were alone. You let your hands trace their way along the rough, grey stones, feeling the familiar edge, reaching for the thick rope to pull up the bucket. The worn hemp gave way, and the echo of the old wooden bucket hitting the sides of the well rang out like shrouded bells. You reached for the handle of the bucket, pulling it up to the rim, carefully filling your waterskin, making sure not to waste a drop. You used the rest to wash your face and hands, letting the cool water soak into your cheeks, adding moisture back to your body after a long sleep.

Suddenly, your eyes darted up to the treeline just beyond the well’s clearing. You thought you saw a shadow that stretched just a little too long, shaped just a little too wrong… but when you studied the dark spaces between the trunks, there was nothing but lush overgrowth. You packed your waterskin and tossed the bucket back into the water; you were eager to get down to the river. The light always played tricks on you in this glade, so why question it?

You walked quite a ways through the valley, using your fingers and the softness of your touch to coax the flowers to bloom and grow as you let your hand fondle its way through the tall grass. When you reached your river, you savored the sight. The way that it curved into a deep ox bow was your favorite thing. It was as if the river had carved out a small, circular stage just for you. In it, you worked on your crafts, practicing growing buds from seeds, trees from roots, ivy from the palm of your hand. Then, you sent it out, down the river towards town, making sure the village was well-shaded, well-fed, and well-protected from the elements.

It was hard work, and you always slept after a long afternoon of using your magic, but your mother always said that no one else would be able to do a better job than you, so you kept at it, and it was the one thing you never questioned.

This time, when you woke up from your nap, you knew you weren’t alone. As you sat up, you looked around, thinking that a striped kri-kri or a golden jackal would be nibbling at the food in your pack. But, sitting with his legs crossed, was a man dressed only in a dark blue chilton, the shoulder of which hung loosely around his waist as if he were a farmer who had been toiling in the field. He was no farmer. Not with those inhuman eyes of ice fire, pale and bright, glowing although the sun was at his back. His body was that of a giant, muscle-bound and heavy, full of power just rippling beneath the surface. He reminded you of the well. How deep did his strength flow? His beard and chest were furry but well-groomed, just like that of a nobleman.

You greeted him, apologizing for your slumber,

“Good day, sir. Forgive my sleeping. I was just tending to my flowers, and I must have dozed off.”

“No trouble,” his smile came to him easily, and you enjoyed it, basking in it, “I enjoy watching you work. It is a gift to see it up close.”

He reached out his hand and plucked one of your most vibrant hyacinths from its stem, cradling your art in his huge hands.

“Beautiful,” he purred, speaking of the flower but looking at you.

“Thank you, sir. Can I offer you some bread or fruit from my pack? I carried clean water from the well this morning.”

“How generous you are,” his smile showed his straight, large teeth this time, and he tucked your own flower behind your ear, letting the delicate petals tickle your sensitive flesh.

You prepared a small piece of bread for him, decorating it with nuts and juicy lobes of fruit that you had carefully peeled with your hands, tearing off a piece of dried meat for him to try as well. You ate with him in companionable silence, watching him as he chewed. Whereas the kri-kri would have greedily gobbled up the bread from your palm, this man seemed unsurprised by it. What was a delicacy for some of Gaia’s creatures was a mere appetizer for others. But, it may be that he had much finer fare at home, so why question it?

“Do you live near to this glade, sir?” You asked, hoping to learn more about your handsome stranger.

His hands peeled the delicate pith from the citrus lobe you had given him, expertly trimming it as if he had done it for a thousand mornings, knowing exactly how hard or easy he needed to pull the flesh for it to yield, feeding it into his mouth in a wet, juicy bite, letting the sweet nectar soak into his beard and become sticky.

He chewed slowly, eyeing you carefully as he did, seemingly in no rush to answer your question. So, you tacked on another one, impatiently,

“What should I call you?”

“I have been called many names,” he spoke, looking down at his hands, staring at his open palms as if to divine some sort of future before his eyes shot back to yours, pinning you where you sat.

“Hm,” you smiled, inching closer, pretending to get a better look at him, studying him like a statue at a temple, “You do not look like an Akakios, nor an Eirenaios…”

“No,” he chuckled, his laugh rolling like a volcanic crag inside of his throat, “I should think not.”

“I cannot imagine naming you Melanthios, though it fits your face,” you giggled.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that, little petal.”

His laugh was still jovial, so you pushed him further,

“Perhaps Kleisthenes. Your strength is apparent, as is your status. Surely, that must fit you.”

You leaned back, biting off another chunk of bread, saving the crust for last, satisfied with your naming ritual.

He shook his head,

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s very brief, or at least much less trouble than Kleisthenes.”

“Bion, then.”

“Mm,” he frowned a bit at the edges of his smile, “Quite the opposite in essence, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps you are a foreigner. One of Troy, or Rome, even? Something brief, like John.”

“I am foreign enough to this land, so I suppose John is close enough,” he sighed, allowing you to finally take your win.

You hadn’t realized how close you had drawn yourself into him. You were now near enough to smell the oils on his skin: laurel, salt, and something akin to tarnished silver. His hand reached out to touch the curls of your hair, carefully braided by your mother, entwined with small flowers and ivy stems to keep it off of your neck. But, after your nap, one lock had escaped and was now being delicately twirled in this man’s immense fingers.

“And what should I call you, little flower? Marjoram is too serious for you. Iris, not serious enough.”

“Persephone,” you offered, unwilling to force him to endure the same naming torture you had just gone through.

“Ah!” He gasped, leaning toward your face as if seeing you for the first time, “Persephone.”

Then, before you could even know what was happening to you, your lips were tasting his. He was cradling you in his arms, holding your limp body against his bare chest, the gold of his necklaces and armbands warm from his body heat as they pressed into your skin. He was kissing you, moving his mouth against yours, forcing your jaw to yield to him, to take his tongue into the hollow of your cheeks, to suck the citrus juice from it, the memory of his food still fresh on the muscle.

You had never been kissed before, even though you had practiced on two of your fingers held tightly together, watching lovers sneak up to the well on hot days of work to do to each other what you longed for someone to do to you. It was so much more satisfying to feel another’s lips move against your own, nothing like the static, chaste practice you’d tried to mimic.

Only now, after you were left gasping, feeling his hands wander along the edges of your chilton, his fingers beginning to dig into the loose gaps in the fabric, did you question whether you should be kissing this man or not. But, it felt too good to stop.

John, or whoever he was, pulled away for a moment, and his eyes seemed to study your mouth, inspecting your plump, swollen lips as if something was wrong. You wrapped your hands around his neck to steady yourself, and he lay you back, letting your head be supported by the plush grasses beneath you. He spoke to you in a hushed whisper, even though no one was around for miles,

“I have been watching you, Persephone. I see you growing your lush gardens, creating a world full of life, all for me to take. And I come back every autumn, when the sun is shy and the sky is dark, just to inspect all of the gifts you have given me,” he kissed you again, his hand finally snaking its way under the shoulder of your robes, peeling it down slowly to reveal your full breasts to the open air, “And I eat them up. All of them, and I take them home. I’ve been keeping them for you. All of your treasures from years past. They’re still there for you to see.”

Then, before you could ask him what he meant, his mouth latched onto the dark nipple of your breast, suckling at it like a babe. And then, very much not like a babe. Like something else. Like a wolf digging the marrow from a bone. Like an otter clawing at a clam, slurping up the tender meat inside.

And then, he stopped. He sat up, holding you by the shoulders and helping you sit up with him, fixing your top so that you were covered again, dizzy and reeling from his attention, the wet skin of your aching nipples sticking to the silk fabric of your gown.

“Sir, I…”

“Come with me, love,” he held out his hand, “Don’t you want to meet your old friends?”

You didn’t know what to say, but he seemed so friendly. There was a dark, twisted piece of wort inside of you, growing and twining itself around your belly that made you want to see if he might put his mouth on you again. It had been so lovely… Besides, you very much missed your old creations. You remembered hundreds and hundreds of seasons of creations you had made, trees and plants, fruits and flowers. It would be wonderful to be reminded of all of the things you had brought into the world. If he had kept them for you, it may even be rude to refuse his hospitality. He seemed so sure, so why question it?

So, you took his hand, and he led you through the earth, ripping at the dirt like a heavy veil, marching down into the darkness, leading you step after step down a winding, rocky staircase. Above your head, you saw the last bit of a ruby-colored sun, setting in the distance, illuminating the ceiling of roots and fungus that hung above you as you delved further into his depths.

Then, your heart skipped a beat. You saw your river again, her wine-dark waters now black, curling in that same ox bow pattern, cutting the land in half. On one bank, the souls of the living waited to be ferried across, and on the other, fields and fields of your own flowers, frozen in time, neither growing nor dead, shrouded in darkness in the grey soil of the Underworld.

He led you onward, towards his blue, gleaming castle, all of its walls made of shining glass, distorting the world outside, and concealing the one within. You marveled at the wide door, its ebon gate the only iron you could see, and all of the castle guards were the dead. Their lifeless eyes gray and cloudy, set inside of gaunt, bony faces, unseeing, unfeeling. You did not fear them, even though you were sure you were meant to. You knew them. You had made the food that fed them while they were alive. You had grown the trees and bushes that had sheltered them when they lay beneath your boughs, exhausted from their labor or their warfare. Who was afraid of an old friend?

Then, you watched your companion climb the long stair up to the throne of Hades, for that is who he was after all, and he sat on its plush seat, motioning for you to sit in an equally-crafted chair beside him. There was no difference between the two thrones. His was not higher, nor was it more elaborate. So, you sat, waiting to see what Hades wanted to show you.

A delightful processional began, and you spotted some of your first flowers being brought to you on pedestals and pillows, you ooh’d and ahh’d at them, sharing stories and listening to Hades tell you all of his tales of how he brought them here to keep. How he’d waited so long for you to come and join him here, to rule in the Underworld beside him as its queen.

“What do you think, love? My people are desperate for more of your creations. You are the only one who reminds them of home. They see your trees and your flowers, your fish and your fruits, and their souls finally know peace. Be my queen, rule beside me, help me put these souls to rest here in Elysium.”

“I am still a maid, sir,” you told him, “My mother is the one who would make that choice for me.”

He looked at you confused,

“You are a goddess most powerful. There is no one who can make choices for you. Even I am no match for your magic. I cannot bloom these fields.”

“When I return home, I will consult her wisdom, and she will help us marry.”

“Very well,” he sighed, “Perhaps you will at least allow me to show you the same hospitality as you have shown me. There is a feast that awaits you in my chambers. Will you join me, petal?”

You had no excuse. How could you refuse him the same thing you had provided. After dinner, you would return home and tell your mother about this handsome suitor.

You followed him from the throne room and entered his chambers, sitting on a wide lounge where platters of meat and fruit and honey in wide bowls waited for you to dig into them. You did not shy away now that you were in the comfort of his rooms, letting Hades sit beside you, as close as he could, feeding you berries and sweetmeats from his hands, dipping his fingers into your lips and letting you suck them clean, laughing and joking with you.

He had done a poor job of tying your robe back onto your shoulder, and it kept falling down. Finally, when you were about to adjust it again, he stopped you, pulling it down even further to hang with the cord of your belt, letting your breasts hang free upon your ribs, heavy and full, sensitive from his earlier ministrations.

“C’mere, love. Lay back and let me feed you. You must be so tired from your work today,” he murmured in your ear, allowing you to lay your back across his chest, his legs spread wide to allow you to sit between them.

You did as he bade, letting him feed you grapes dipped in honey, delicious fish and mussels, crab and octopus still cold and fresh. He ate, too, feeding you sometimes from his own mouth, bending to kiss you with sweet bites between his teeth.

Then, when you had both had your fill, he used his hands to rub your sore muscles, easing the tension in your neck, down your shoulders, and then finally, he stopped,

“Alright, love. We should bring you back to Demeter. I’m sure she is waiting.”

“No,” you protested, ignoring the fact that he knew your mother’s name, “I mean… I thought we could stay a bit longer. I’m so full; a journey would be too arduous right now.”

“Oh?” He returned to petting you, letting his hands trace just outside of your breasts, fingers skating through your underarms and then up along the thin skin of your neck, “How should we occupy our time, my love?”

“Just… like this,” you let your hands wander to his strong thighs, massaging down his knees and calves, admiring the muscles there.

“If that’s what you want, my love, then you shall have it. All that you want shall be yours,” his tone was dark in a way you had never heard from another person, but you felt so good, so why question it?

His hands were callused and warm as they covered your sensitive breasts, plucking at your nipples like the petals of one of your flowers, and you mewled from the pleasure, asking him for more and more and more.

Then, you felt his mouth on your neck, sucking and licking you, reminding you of how it felt when his mouth was on your tits, making your flesh tingle like the crackle of lighting, like the cold of the first swim of the season.

So, you turned towards him, spreading your legs on either side of his hips, sitting proudly in his lap, hoping he would return his mouth to where it was needed. And he did. It was as if he read your mind, knowing you wanted him to suck and suck and suck against the softness of your skin, to use his tongue to press into the nub of your nipple, over and over until you felt your legs begin to shake as if you were shivering from the cold.

“My pretty flower, it feels like you need something else, hm? What would you like? I will give you Olympus if you ask me for it.”

You weren’t sure what to ask for. When a flower asks to be picked, growing symmetrical and soft as it does, what does it know about the plucking? Only picked flowers know what they’re really asking for, don’t they?

“I don’t know… I just… I need…” You tried to make sense of your body’s wishes, and why you were rocking your hips back and forth, why you needed to feel something between your thighs.

Hades’ smile widened, that dark beard pressed out of the way of his full mouth as it turned up into a grin,

“How about this, hm?”

He fumbled with your robes and his, and then you felt yourself sigh with relief when he placed some part of him between your legs, giving you something to rub against through your softest petals, wet with excitement and desire. You both sighed, and you could feel the heat of him as you rocked back and forth. It felt like his wrist, but then again, it didn’t. It was wide enough, but at the end, instead of a hand, it was the fleshy edge of another tongue, perhaps. Something that was licking your hole every time you passed over it.

Eventually, everything was wet beneath you. His robes, your robes, his body, your body… it was a sticky, dripping mess. You had lost your breath, your heart beating out of your chest, your mind sparkling like a fire and then going blank like you had drank too much wine. Over and over, you felt everything and then nothing. It may have been hours, but you couldn’t tell. He didn’t seem like he was in a rush to be finished with your game, so you didn’t question it.

“More, still?” He finally asked, kissing you on the mouth sweetly, sucking on the tip of your lolling tongue, “My greedy little flower…”

You weren’t sure what more there was. But, he showed you. This time, when you rocked back, he used his hand to notch himself at your hole, and if you pushed forward, you would have to press yourself onto him, to take him inside of yourself somehow. It was the same way you had used your fingers inside yourself to play in your bed or in your glade by the river, just touching yourself for the comfort of it.

But, this was different. This was not comfort, it was magic. It felt like old magic, something from the world as it was before. And yet, he had promised you whatever you wanted, so you didn’t question it.

As you slipped yourself over his fleshy knob, you experimented with your movements, rolling your hips back and forth, seeing how it felt to push him deeper and deeper inside of you, stopping when you felt like you were being stretched open. Then, you tried circles, turning your hips around and around as you sat in his lap, feeling him slipping deeper and deeper inside of you as you found your rhythm.

He was busying himself with kissing you, or suckling from your nipples, but you could tell he was enjoying himself as much as you were. His grunting was that of a rutting deer, hoarse and loud. Finally, he reached some sort of limit, and he grabbed you, changing places, pressing you beneath him on the lounge, nearly ripping off your robes and his own, making you naked in front of him.

Then, you saw what you had been using for your pleasure. His phallus stood tall and strong against his belly, ruddy and throbbing, shining with your wet nectar. You had never seen one up close, and when you cradled it in your hands, it felt alive, like it was separate from him even though its thick root was buried deep inside his body.

Hades’ eyes glowed bright blue, his own magicks coursing within him, and he told you,

“Open your legs.”

So, you obeyed, entranced by his power and the feeling you were experiencing, weightless and floating in your own mind. He fed himself into you, as deep as you had gone and then deeper, not stopping when you hissed in a breath from the feeling of your muscles stretching beyond the point of comfort, delving far enough to cause pain.

“Ahh!” You cried out, but he shushed you with his mouth, kissing you again and again, distracting you from the discomfort of his invasion.

“That’s my good girl…” He praised you, just as your mother always did, for a job well-done or a chore checked off the list.

But, you didn’t feel like you were doing a chore. In fact, you felt like you were watching him do one for you. His thrusting was violent and repetitive, his huge rod pounding into you with every snap of his hips, grinding his tip inside of you deeper and deeper. As you moved past the pain and back into a throbbing sort of pleasure, he looked as if he was taking your pain away from you in this ritual. His face was set in a grimace, his eyes ferocious and snarling, his voice growling and letting out only deep, throaty whines.

So, you did what he had done for you. You kissed his furry chest and latched onto his soft nipple, listening to him cry out with a sudden shout.

“Love, I can’t… ”

You didn’t know how to help him, so you kept sucking and sucking, hoping you would bring him the pleasure that you felt, that you might ease his pain.

But, he grabbed your face in his huge hands, pulling you away from his chest, squeezing your cheeks to make your lips press into a helpless sort of pout.

He growled down at you like a wounded animal,

“So beautiful. My queen. My perfect little flower.”

Then, you felt your body tumble into another one of your hypnotic phases; your muscles clenching, your toes curling, your breath neither coming in nor rushing out, helpless to your own reaction.

“Unghff-fuck… that’s it. Persephone…” He looked at you with those eyes, the eyes of some unearthly being, the bright icy glow keeping you in that cyclone of pleasure, thrashing you with it over and over, making you feel a wet gush between your legs, warm and slick.

He released your face and leaned backwards, peering down at your body from his kneeling position, letting you watch how he was pistoning inside of you, pressing himself through you and filling you up. He watched himself for a moment, staring down at where you were joined, and then he sank himself all the way in and tossed back his head with a bellowing shout.

You felt his prick writhing inside of you, pulsing and throbbing. You waited, panting with him, watching him wipe the sweat from his brow. He pulled himself out slowly, and lay it on your belly, letting you see the last of his seed drooled from his tip. There was blood on your skin when he pulled away, and as much as you tried to wipe it away, it stained.

Hades carried you to his bed, wrapping you in his dark blue silk sheets, cradling you in his arms until you both drifted off to sleep.

You awoke to the sound of a woman crying. A voice calling your name. But, you were so tired, you must have been dreaming, so you didn’t question it.

AO3 Link -- Thank you for the bookmarks and kudos! <3

#call of duty fanfic #captain john price #john price #call of duty #captain price x you #captain price x reader #hades!price #persephone!reader #hades and persephone #greek mythology au #x female reader

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sweetcocopowder · 5 months ago

Note

Could i have a demon dean fic with the prompts "Are you afraid of me?" And "Take it off" with a male reader please

Prompt 6 | Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male! Reader

Synopsis: You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut. Tongue fucking. Size kink. Dean's a big boy. Reader's short. Praise. If i miss anything, please tell me. It's late at night.

Notes: I am so sorry that this took forever to post. This is probably the longest fic for the Milestone. I wanted to get it right since these types of prompts take me forever to write. But, I hope your enjoy hehe

You can’t get your breathing under control. It comes short and shallow that it makes your head dizzy and light. It actually worked. The ritual actually worked. You stumble backwards, your feet catching against each other on the loose gravel as you fall on your ass. So much for first impressions.

The demon stands tall in the middle of the crossroads clad in a pitch black suit. He sweeps a hand through his blonde hair, trying to tame it but some strands still fall over his freckled face. His black eyes scan over his surroundings before they flicker to an intoxicating green. They set upon you, a frown forming deep upon his features.

“You’re a little pipsqueak now aren’t you,” the crossroad’s demon comments.

At that, you’re quick to your feet, dusting yourself off as thoroughly as you can. You puff out your chest and square your shoulders, because you’re in charge. You’re the one that summoned this demon. You’re the one making the deal. How dare he call you that when you’re the only offering him something in return.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at him, but your voice comes out cracked.

The demon chuckles, a set of fangs showing from behind his lips. He walks towards you, and you quickly realize just how much taller he is than you. You’re short for a man, only coming up to a 5’5. And standing next to someone over 6 feet is always something.

“I can call you whatever I damn well please,” the demon snaps.

You flinch slightly, brows furrowing in anger at the mouth on this hellish creature. He may not have any horns. Or no tail. Or any hooves in those dress shoes he wears. But he sure as hell smells like a demon. Sulphur at its finest.

“I’m here to make a deal,” you get back onto topic, the reason why you even summoned him here in the first place.

The demon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. Didn’t summon me for a chit chat now did you?”

He pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer, inspecting you. He moves your head back and forth, looking over every inch of you. You swat his hand away at the feeling of your cheeks flushing something hot.

“Is it money you want? You want your girlfriend to love you? Want a promotion at your job you’ve been stuck in for eight years? Or want your boss dead?” The demon lists off on his clawed fingers.

“What!? No!” You bark out.

“A new car? Your partner to be pregnant?” The demon asks a few more things. “I can do that myself if you want. If you’re the one shooting blanks then you’ve come to the right person. Probably the straightest and strongest shooter you’ve met!” He chuckles loudly.

“No! What are you going on about?”

The demon laughs harder, the noise seeming loud out in the open, deserted road. “Then what is it you want, pipsqueak?”

You ignore the comment. “I want to be six foot tall,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster.

The demon goes silent. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if you’re pulling his demonic leg. But when you stand there in silence, not speaking a punch line, it settles into the demon that you aren’t joking.

As much as you’d like to be joking, you’re not. You’re sick and tired of people belittling you because of how short you are. Treating you like a child even though you’re a grown ass man. It’s humiliating at some points. And this demon is just showing you that it’s all true.

How will you explain it when you come back to your boring office job six feet tall? You’ll get to that afterwards.

“So,” the demon clears his throat. “You want to sell you soul to be six feet tall? Am I correct?” He asks bluntly, gesturing his hands around as he speaks.

You nod with a, “Yes.”

The demon pops a hip out with a hand placed over it. You watch the motion before dragging your eyes back up. You’d be a fool to admit the demon before you isn’t hot. You wonder if this is what he looked like before he became a demon. How does becoming a demon even work?

The demon shrugs. “Well I guess I know people that have done worse.” He sighs. “Do you know how a crossroads deal is made?” The demon asks with a cocked eyebrow. He makes his way towards you again, reaching out and patting down your tie.

“Yes. A kiss to seal to deal,” you say with confidence.

Just a simple kiss.

“I do things differently,” he says as he hooks a finger into the tie.

“What?” You utter out weakly before you can control yourself.

With the smell of burning fabric, the fabric touching the demon’s finger burns a neat line. It falls off, flopping to the ground. His green eyes land on you and you find yourself unable to speak. A hand hooks into your belt and you stiffen up greatly, your face burning a bright red once again.

“My deals are struck a lil’ more intimately. A little more hands on,” the demon grins, his lips only mere inches away from yours.

You can smell the demon better than before now. The smell of sulphur still lingers, but there’s something else that lingers. Something much sweeter. It’s not a pleasant combination of smells though. But what else did you expect a demon to smell like. Rainbows and unicorns?

But you know what the demon is talking about. You summoned a cross roads demon. Not a fucking succubus.

Yet at the same time, you don’t want to have to do the entire ritual again just to get an ugly demon. It would be a shame to pass up on an opportunity like this. Yes? Maybe you are a little messed up in the head. But those green, green eyes. You can’t seem to look away from them.

“Do you still want to be six foot tall?” The demon all but growls out right in your ear.

You swallow thickly. What harm could getting fucked by a demon to be a little bit taller do? You’re just selling your soul.

“Y-yes,” you utter out.

The grin that spreads across the demon’s face is devious. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, his voice low and even.

It goes straight to your crotch though. You’ve never had anyone come onto you like this but you’re quickly realizing you might be more into it than you may have first realized. You swallow thickly, not being able to look away from the demon’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you squeak out.

The crossroads demon takes a large step away from you with a hearty laugh spilling from his lips. You’re confused. You can’t help but stand there dumbstruck at the sudden change. With the demon’s back turned, you quickly adjust yourself in your suit pants. Don’t tell yourself that he was joking?

The demon turns back around to you, his eyes looking you up and down as if you’re a piece of meat. You can’t help but step from one foot to the other under the watchful, dark gaze.

“Take it off,” the demon suddenly says.

“W-what?” You utter.

“I said,” the demon makes his way back towards you, placing a finger on your chest. “Take this fucking suit off or otherwise you’ll be walking home in nothing but your birthday suit.”

Oh. Oh. Oh my lord. You can feel yourself become as bright as a tomato and yet, you follow the command instantly. You begin stripping, starting with your coat and button up, then to kicking off your shoes. With only a split second of hesitant, you take off your suit pants and hesitate at your underwear. You look to the demon before you who only cocks an eyebrow your way. You swallow thickly again, butterflies coming to your chest as you strip everything. You cover yourself subconsciously with your hands in front of yourself, trying to hide your bulge.

You flinch at the warm hand splayed across your chest suddenly. You can’t drag your eyes away from the crossroads demon. He licks his lips in anticipation, liking what he sees before him.

His hand glides up your neck to the back of your hair, gripping in to tug your face upwards to him. He’s so much taller than you it’s almost intoxicating. You’re almost standing on your toes as he comes down for a kiss, capturing your lips with teeth and tongue. You can’t help but moan into the kiss as the demon grabs onto your sides tightly. His sharp nails dig into your soft skin causing a harsh shiver to run down your naked back.

The demon pulls away, looking down at you with devious green eyes. A string of saliva connects your flush lips to his and all you find yourself doing is staring.

“Now,” the demon purrs, “Did you want to take this on the hard gravel or do you want to try and stand and take it?” He asks lowly.

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. The thought of your back or stomach getting scuffed up doesn’t sound all that pleasant in your eyes.

“I’ll be alright standing,” you say, a slight shake in your voice.

The demon shrugs with a cocky expression on his face. “Alright,” he mumbles, “It’s your deal.”

He then drop to his knees in the loose gravel, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs onto your thighs and spins you around. Definitely not the direction you thought this was heading, but you don’t complain otherwise. You can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lips at the sudden direction this is turning. This is not what you thought would be happening tonight, but you can’t remember the last time you were properly laid. So may as well take this as it is.

Large hands spread your cheeks open and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You try and hold back the whimper that tries to escapes your throat as hot breath touches your skin. You bite down on your knuckles as you bend over just a little, giving the demon a better look.

“I’m gonna loosen you up a bit,” you hear the grin on the demon’s voice, his face buried under you. “Don’t want this to be unpleasant is all. May be a demon but I’m not a monster.”

“Who would hav- AH!”

You don’t get much warming than that before a hot tongue licks from the base of your balls all the way to your hole. You shiver violently at the feeling. Does his tongue feel much stickier and thicker than a normal humans or is that just your imagination? He licks a long strip from your balls to your ass again, this time slower than the last. And this time you can’t help the sound that comes from your mouth. You place both of your hands on your knees with your head bowed between your shoulders. This might be a little harder than you thought.

“Don’t hold back, pipsqueak. I love hearing those beautiful noises,” the demon says huskily. “It’s like a reward.”

You go to say something, but everything and anything you were going to do is thrown away as a thick tongue is pushed past the tight rim of your ass. You let out a startled cry at the odd sensation of the hot, sticky tongue within you. It’s as thick as at least three fingers and feels longer than such. It prods and seeps deeper within you, as if searching for something. It stretches you oddly, the strange feeling earning a whimpered moan from your lips.

You bend over a little more, fisting your hands on your knees as they begin to shake. You shudder an exhale as the demon’s tongue curls within you, folding on top of itself to make itself thicker before coiling back out. This is not what you had in mind, but you must admit it does feel amazing. If he keeps this up, you might have to take it to the gravel because your legs might just give way.

You can’t help but keen and gasp at the warm tongue prodding and pushing against your prostate. Your legs shake as it only feels like he goes deeper, and deeper. A sheen of sweat starts to cover your skin that’s quickly cooled in the cold night air.

Your cock sits half hard between your legs, but it wouldn’t take much more to get yourself to full length. You wrap a hand around your cock, giving yourself a few dry strokes. You can’t help the groans and whines that slip through your parted lips as the demon seems content in eating you out for the time being.

After another minute of prodding and twisting, you feel yourself already coming close. This is all so new and blissful that you can’t help yourself. You’re coming in your hand before you even know it. You gasp and groan, clenching your jaw as the tongue retracts from within you. A little shame rids into your gut, but the satisfaction out weights it for now.

A dark chuckle comes from behind you, “You lasted a little longer than some of the other fellas that come to me.”

“Nice to know,” you pant out.

You don’t think you can stand much longer. You return your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“But we ain’t done, pipsqueak,” the demon rumbles as he stands to his feet.

You peer over your shoulder with wide eyes to catch the demon wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His blonde hair is ruffled, and those green eyes only watch you with a hunger that’s on the verge of starving.

“Deal isn’t struck until I come in you,” he says bluntly.

“W-what?” You stutter.

The demon leans into your back, wrapping his arms around your middle and hooking his chin on top of your head. He engulfs you fully, holding on tight so that you can’t leave. He leans down and breathes into your ear, and you can’t help but freeze up and become ridged.

He speaks slower and gruffer this time, his voice rough in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you come again from just my cock. And nothing else. And then I’m going to fill you up so that you, a little pipsqueak like yourself can become nice and tall to impress everyone around you.”

Goosebumps run across your cool skin at the thought of such. You’ve never had anyone talk to you like this. You’ve never let anyone talk to you like this, but oh my do you like it a little bit too much. The rough words go straight to your soft cock, making it twitch.

“Do you want me to do that?” The demon asks as one of his hands slides back around to your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. “Can you do that for me? Hmm?”

You breath out shakily, “Y-yes, please.”

You can feel him grin again against your neck before giving your flushed skin a kiss. He moves away but just enough so that he can undo his belt. The clinking of the buckle is loud on the open road, and you suddenly become very aware of where you are. You glance around at the empty fields that surround the gravel crossroads. No one comes down here and you bloody hope that no one decides to spontaneously come down a deserted road. But all of that is quickly washed away as a thumb prods into your saliva slicked ass. You grit your teeth at the wet sound and the feel of the cool saliva running down your legs.

The demon hums behind you, almost satisfied with what he’s inspecting. “I think I over did it a little, but you’ll be perfect all the same.”

The thumb disappears to only be replaced by the warmth of the demon’s cock. From what you can feel, he’s big. You can’t help but tense up as you suddenly over think everything. But a hand comes around your front, resting over your heart.

“Oh my,” the demon hums. “Now now, that won’t do. Relaaax, pipsqueak. I ain’t going to do this if you don’t want to. It’s your deal after all.”

The statement does in fact calm you down. You’re here to make a deal. He may be a demon, but he hasn’t hurt you as of yet. Which is reassuring to you right now.

“L-Let’s seal the deal,” you shakily utter out. Not out of fear, but more anticipation and need.

A low chuckle in your ear has your soft dick twitching. The demon pushes past the rim of your ass, the head of his girthy cock slipping in easily. You gasp loudly as he pushes in a little further before pulling out and slamming his hips flush against your ass. He bottom’s out quickly, the entire length of his dick sitting snuggling inside of you. He worked you open well enough to do so, a deep chuckle emitting from his flushed lips. He curves in just the right way that hits against your prostate almost perfectly. The way that has your knees becoming weak and leaves you breathless. He stretches you a little painfully, more so than his tongue but you find yourself only wanting more. The pleasure that courses through your gut fizzles your head and you find yourself not thinking straight.

The demon begins a quick pace, using the hand on your chest to keep you in position as he thrusts into you. He more or less towers over you, being able to hold you up if your legs decided they didn’t want to support you any longer.

The noises that comes from your mouth are ones of pure bliss. You don’t know where to put your hands and after a while you end up placing a one on top of the demon’s on your chest. He chuckles at that, low and deep into the nape of your neck before grabbing a hold of both of your wrists. He crosses your arms in front of your chest, holding onto you tightly as he pounds his hips into your ass. The wet plap of the demon’s hips is numbed out by just how loud you are. You whine and keen and moan with every thrust and every inch he gives you.

You try to catch your breath but every time it’s knocked out of you with each thrust. You’re unable to keep yourself quiet at the closeness and the fulfilment of the demon. He breathes into your neck, mouthing words and kisses into your sweaty skin. Your once soft dick now bounces between your legs half hard. You don’t think you could handle anything touching your dick at the moment. Everything buzzes and trembles in all the right ways.

“You’re probably the best one yet,” the demon grins in your ear. “Taking my cock like a good lil’ boy.”

The praise makes you feel high. You get lost in everything, the constant stretch and pull of the demon pounding without tiredness into your ass. You hunch over, allowing better access for the demon and he follows you. Towering over you, holding you close to his chest. Engulfed in his arms that could wrap around your entirely.

You come a second time, this time being much harsher than the first. You forget how to breath and forget where you are for a second. The demon lets up. Even when you’ve tightened around him, it only makes his movements even more driven. He pumps once, twice before driving his cock deep within you. The warm sensation of him filling you makes your entire body shudder. Makes your dick twitch, expelling a little more cum before once again softening between your legs.

Your legs tremble and shake and if it weren’t for the demon holding onto you, you would have fallen on your face by now in the gravel. You breath heavily, trying to catch your breath as the demon makes sure every last drop of him is expelled inside of you. Sealing the deal.

He pulls out and you whine at the sudden loss. It’s a pathetic noise that you can’t stop. You never knew you could make so many noises until tonight. Nothing that has ever been drawn from you before. And find yourself having loved every moment.

“Can you stand?” The demon chuckles.

You lick your lips and swallow thickly. After a while, you nod sharply as you drag your feet under you. The demon lets you go but keeps his hands on you, afraid you may fall to your knees. But you don’t, you shake a little, but you stand all the same.

You can feel the demon’s cum drippling down your leg and you already know it’s going to be a fun five hour drive home. You might have to grab a motel because five hours sounds like five days right now.

When you turn to face the demon, you now stand eye to eye with his green gaze. He grins from ear to ear with a cocked eyebrow. The deal has been struck.

You don’t feel any different, but the ground does now look as if it’s further away. You’ve gotten your extra inches. Just like that.

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.

This makes the crossroads demon laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. Crow’s feet scratch at the corner of his eyes. He points to you with a toothy smile.

“You know, if you ever want to make another deal, call on me personally,” the demon chuckles deeply, “This was fun.”

That, actually sounds like a good idea. You work in an office. You’re digging yourself an early grave anyways.

“And how should I-“ you have to lick your lips, your entire mouth dry. “How should I do that?” You ask.

“Dean,” the demon finally greets himself. “The name’s Dean.”

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melanieph321 · 6 months ago

Note

HI!! I love your writing!! 💓💓 I read that you will make 7 days of requests so I sent you one, I wanted to ask you for rubén.

where reader is pep's daughter and is secretly with rubén, she is a physiotherapist but from manchester united, when one evening they all meet at pep's house for a team dinner, reader's older sister hits on rubén and so when he's not there anymore reader takes him to his childhood room and they do dirty things 🫢, but when they finish and go out there's pep outside and in the end they confess and he simply replies "I already knew".

THANK YOU IF YOU HAD TO DO IT I LOVE YOU 💓💓💓

Love this request. Made a couple of changes to the plot, I hope you don't mind.

Thank you ❤️

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 4)

Ruben Dias x Reader - Meet And Greet

+18

Reader is Pep Guardiola's daughter and is dating Ruben without her dad's knowledge. However, that changes during a family BBQ.

Enjoy!

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your dad told you to come home for the weekend because he was hosting a BBQ. However, he never told you that he invited the entire Manchester City squad as well.

You were watching from your bedroom window. Watching how your backyard flooded with a sea of world-class football players, all munching on burgers, hot dogs, and your dads famous smoked paella.

"Y/N, Y/N!"

There was a knock on your door, followed by your little sister stumbling into your room.

"What is it, Nadia?"

"Papa wants you to come downstairs."

"Let me get dressed first. I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay, I'll tell him you said that." Giddy with excitement, she rushed out of the room, only to rush back through the door a split second later. "Oh and Y/N...."

"What?"

She grinned. "Ruben is here."

Your heart skipped a beat. However, you tried to play it cool. "Did he ask about me?"

"Yes, he told me to tell you that he's saving a seat for you at the table. But don't you think it would be stupid of you two to..."

"I got it Nadia. Thank you for the message."

"I'm just saying...." She continued, again reminding you to never ask an eight year old to keep a secret. "....won't dad be suspicious seeing you all cozy with one of his players?"

"Nadia, please." You sighed. "I need to get dressed. I promise to come downstairs in a minute."

"Okay." She shirrped and skipped out of your room, down the hall and back downstairs.

You were left to do your makeup, but you decided to keep it clean and natural. You then went over to your closet, anxious to pick the appropriate outfit. It was a family gathering, meaning you should present yourself as homely and tidy. However, knowing that Ruben was amongst the guests fueled a desire in you to keep things interesting. It was risky. Nevertheless, you came downstairs wearing your favorite summer dress. Correction: Ruben's favorite summer dress.

¡Cariño, ahí estás! (Honey, there you are!)

You had just stepped foot into the backyard when your dad, as always, decide to embarrass you.

"Everyone, say hello to my daughter, Manchester United best physiotherapist!"

He got some giggles for his troubles. However, the joke about your profession was getting old. Everyone had accepted it. Even the media had stopped writing ironic articles about it.

"Hi, honey. You look lovely."

"Thank you, Mami." You kissed her cheeks, unlike your dad. She was happy to see you, but not enough to announce it to the entire world.

"Are you hungry? There's plenty of food."

"Yes, I'll grab something. Just let me say hello to everyone."

You took a lap around the crowded backyard. Except for the Man City squad, your dad also invited the neighbors, making it a block party at its finest. Your first thought was, "How did all these people get here?" You had seen some of the players pull up in their luxury vehicles, but you hadn't expected an invasion of this magnitude. The backyard was usually quiet and peaceful, a place where Nadia could escape the chaos of school, chasing her favorite butterflies. Now, it was a bustling party scene.

"Y/N, Y/N, look who I found."

Speaking of the devil. You were ambushed by your sister, who seemed to enjoy running amongst the many guests. She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the swimming pool, where a bar had been set up. A bar, surrounded by people and one particular person who caught your eye.

"I told him to wait for you to get dressed." Said Nadia, who eagerly guided you towards your boyfriend.

"Hi." Ruben smiled.

"Hi." You blushed.

"Oh, I know!" Your sister squeald. "I can keep dad distracted if you want?"

"Great idea, Nadita! You do that."

You were relieved to see your sister make her way through the crowd, leaving you and Ruben alone.

"I'm sorry if she's been bothering you."

"No need to apologize." Ruben chuckled. He looked so good and charming in his knewly cut hair, and he wore a shirt and jeans that complimented his fairly tanned skin.

"Have you grabbed anything to eat yet?" He asked.

"No, you?"

"Yes, actually. Who knew your dad could make a mean cheeseburger?"

"Please don't." You chuckled. No one had more experience than you when it came to your dad's BBQ obsession. You looked over to where he stood, tending the grill. He expertly flipped the steaks while chatting with guests. Your mom was busy too, refilling plates and passing out cold drinks to some players.

"Who knew?" Ruben mumbled.

"Yeah, I guess it's his thing besides coaching you guys."

"Yeah, no. I'm not talking about that."

You turned to find Ruben's eyes on you, or your dress to be exact.

"Who knew a person could look so good in a dress." He said, leaning forward, surprising you with a kiss on the cheek.

"Baby?" You gasped. "Not here. Not where people can see."

"Then take me somewhere no one can." His eyes said it all, a devious glimpse reflected in them. You shook your head at the audacity. Still, the whey Ruben's fingers nipped at the hemn of your dress was more than tempting.

"How about a tour of the house?" You whispered.

"After you."

It was a quick house tour, skipping most of the rooms downstairs, heading straight to the second floor.

"....Here's our bathroom. Over there you have my parents room, Nadia's room. And here....." You led Ruben down the hall, stopping at the end of it. "Here you have my room."

Ruben took it in, his eyes wandering from the floor to the sealing. He admired the pictures on your walls, along with the photographs of you as a child, missing a couple of front teeth.

"Cute." He chuckled.

"I was ten."

"A cute ten year old."

"Creepy, but thanks." You wrapped your arms around his neck, guidning Ruben to the middle of the room.

"I'm creepy?" He said, allowing you to lead him across the room, towards your bed. There the two of you laid down and let your lips collide for the first time that night.

"Yes. But only a little creepy." You giggled.

"Oh, yeah? Does it turn you on?"

"You wish."

Ruben laughed but took the liberty to fold the bottom of your dress, revealing your polkadot panties. "Polkadots, interesting."

"My mom is doing laundry. Don't laugh at them."

"Who's laughing?" Ruben scooted down, aligning his face with your pelvis, draping your legs to rest on each of his shoulders. "I love polkadots."

You bit down on your lip as Ruben kissed the insides of your thighs. He knew what he was doing. Ruben always knew exactly what he was doing to you. Your hands made a mess of his hair. Gripping a bundle of it to prevent yourself from moaning his name. He was licking you now. Ruben had pushed your panties to the side just so he could swipe his tongue across your center, making his way upwards, then downwards, repeating the motion until you were pliant. Pliant enough to fit the size of his fingers.

"Ruben." You slapped a hand against your mouth, never meant to let such a rough moan escape.

Ruben drummed a laugh below your stomach but seized to please you with the same intensity. "You taste so good, I couldn't help myself." He came up to kiss you, his weight pressing you down against the matress.

"We have to get back to the party, or else my dad might notice that I'm gone."

Ruben looked down. "Great."

"What?" You chuckled.

"You totally made me lose my boner."

"Me?" You gasped.

"Yes, you." Ruben pressed a swift kiss to your lips before backing off. He offered you a hand, helping you up and out of your bed. He then waited for you to straighten out your dress, as well as change your panties.

"To mention your dad, my coach, should be illegal when I'm trying to fuck you." He said, as the two of you made your way downstairs, back to the party in the backyard.

"Well, at least now I know how to get you off of me." You teased.

"Eww, no. Please don't."

The two of you made your way through the crowd, on your way back to the pool. There the two of you could have some privacy, far away from your dads grill.

"Y/N!"

You flinched at the sound of his stern voice. You and Ruben had just walked past it, the grill, when your dad, out of nowhere, popped his bald head in front of you like a jack in a box.

"Dad....what's up?" You immediately let go of Ruben's hand, forgetting that you had been holding onto it as you left the house.

"Did he like it?" Your dad said, with his usually taunting smile.

"Did who, like what?" You frowned.

"Ruben." He folded his arms. "Did he like our home, considering the two of you were gone for so long."

"Oh."

Heat rose to your face. You could sense Ruben's angst bedside you too as your dad darted at him with laser in his eyes.

"Coach, I can explain...."

"No need, son. I already know."

"What?" Heads briefly turned with your sudden exclamation. "How do you know about me and Ruben?" You said, eager to know.

"Well, firstly...." Your dad perked up. "I am a very smart man. A very very smart man."

"Dad, please." You sighed.

"Okay, fine. Your sister told me."

"Nadia?" You gasped. "That traitor."

"That's what happens when you ask a eight year old to keep a secret."

"I should have known." You mumbled.

"Anyway." Your dad cleared his throat. "I'm assuming that this has been going on for a while."

"A year." You nodded and felt slightly guilty about lying to him for so long. You grabbed a hold of Ruben's hand, squeezing it. "I only kept it from you, though. Mom also knows."

"Great. You give your children life, a home and this how they repay you."

"My apologies, coach." Ruben stepped up. "It's mainly because of me that Y/N wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I just never wanted to put you in a position where your job as my coach has been compromised."

"Well, we're way past that, don't you think?"

Ruben blushed.

Your dad chuckled and stepped in between you, wrapping his arms around the both of you. "No more lying, okay."

"Okay." You nodded and so did Ruben.

"Alright." He rubbed his hands together, making his way back towards the grill. "If there's nothing else you wish to tell me I say, welcome to the family, Ruben."

"Erm....thanks." Ruben scratched the back of his head. You, on the other hand, couldn't be happier, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend while whispering the words "Thank you." to your dad who raised his spatula in a celebratory gesture.

THE END

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #ruben dias #football angst #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #seven days of requests

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natsaffection · 1 year ago

Text

Kingdom of Secrets | Prologue | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 16 when she comes to the palace and the reader is 4 years old. At the end of this chapter Natasha is 33 and reader 21) fingering, begging, crying

word count: 4,5k

A/n: welcome to the prologue of Kingdom of Secrets! (Yes the title has a meaning) This is just the opening chapter. So it's not the first real part. It cost me already tears because I wanted it to come across the way people spoke back in the Middle Ages..so please give feedback!🫂

In the heart of the great kingdom of Celestria, where emerald fields stretch as far as the eye can see and spires kiss the sky, there was great anticipation in the royal court. King Alistair and Queen Seraphina Dawn, the beloved rulers of the realm, had long yearned for an heir to carry on the legacy of their noble lineage. The palace echoed with the whispers of courtiers as news spread of a momentous event.

Queen Seraphina was expecting a child.

Months passed, each one accompanied by prayers and whispered hopes echoing through the halls of the palace. The kingdom collectively held its breath, waiting for the joyous news that would bring new life to the royal family. The gardens adorned with blooming flowers bore witness to the ebb and flow of the seasons, reflecting the anticipation within the palace walls.

And then, as the golden colors of autumn tinged the landscape, the long-awaited moment arrived. Like a melody of hope, the announcement resounded through the kingdom and spread from town to town. Queen Seraphina had given birth to a daughter, a shining beacon of joy in the embrace of her parents' love.

The kingdom erupted in jubilation. Banners swayed in the fresh breeze, their colors dancing to the rhythm of the joy that flowed through the streets. The citizens rushed to the gates of the palace in their finest clothes to join in the royal rejoicing. The sweet scent of flowers was in the air and the distant sounds of musicians tuning their instruments heralded the great celebrations to come.

Inside the palace, the little princess lay in her mother's arms, wrapped in a tapestry of delicate silk. Queen Seraphina's eyes, glistening with tears of happiness, met King Alistair's gaze, a silent exchange that spoke volumes about the unspoken journey they had traveled to reach this blessed moment.

As the sun sank below the horizon, the palace gates opened to welcome the many well-wishers. The Great Hall, decorated with golden tapestries and crystal chandeliers, shone in the light of a thousand candles. Laughter and chatter filled the air as nobles, commoners and dignitaries alike joined in the celebration.

In the midst of this splendor, the little princess lay in her crib, surrounded by a symphony of admiration. Her tiny fingers, like rose petals, grasped at the air as if reaching for the love that surrounded her. The flickering candlelight painted her delicate features and cast a warm, ethereal glow on her.

Y/n, as she would later be called, became the beacon of hope that united the kingdom. Her laughter echoed through the palace like silver bells, eliciting smiles from all who basked in her innocent radiance. The court musicians, attuned to the heartbeat of the celebration, played melodies that blended with the collective heartbeat of the kingdom, a harmonious testament to the unity created by the birth of the princess.

Over the years, the princess's birthdays became a cherished tradition. The kingdom celebrated with greater fervor each year, turning the anniversary of her birth into a grand spectacle. The gardens, where once the whispers of anticipation could be heard, now bloomed in vibrant colors that reflected the princess's exuberant spirit.On her birthdays, the people of Celestria gathered to honor their beloved princess. The streets were lined with stalls selling sweet treats and enchanting trinkets. Musicians played lilting melodies and performers brought fairy tales to life through dance and theater. But amidst the splendor, it was Y/n herself who was in the spotlight.

Her laughter, the elixir that had breathed life into the kingdom years ago, echoed through the air. The joy that emanated from her was infectious and transformed the celebration into a mosaic of smiles and shared happiness. Y/n had become the living embodiment of the kingdom's dreams with her sparkling eyes and a heart full of kindness.

As Y/n grew, so did the kingdom around her. The once silent halls of the palace echoed with the footsteps of a vibrant princess whose spirit danced like the sunlight that fell through the leaves. She became a symbol of hope, bridging the realms of royalty and commonality - a beacon of unity for a kingdom that had waited with bated breath for her arrival.

And so, under the golden skies of Celestria, the royal court and citizens celebrated the birth of their princess, whose laughter echoed throughout the kingdom, mingling with the melodies of joy that had marked her grand entrance into the world.

But a shadowy group lurked in the hidden corridors beneath the splendor of the kingdom. Unseen and unheard, this gang shrouded in mystery plotted insidiously to infiltrate the royal house.

In the dimly lit chamber adorned with ancient symbols, the agents of the group - Shadows of Darkness - received a chilling instruction. The leaders, shrouded in the cloak of shadows, readjusted their strategy. Princess Y/n, an unforeseen variable, demanded an adjustment to their malevolent plans.

As Y/n's laughter rang through the palace, the group's secret game unfolded on an invisible chessboard. The birth of the princess upset their carefully laid plans and brought an element of unpredictability into play. Beneath the surface of the festivities, a calculated dance played out, where joyful echoes collided with the malice lurking in the shadows. Citizens and royalty revelled in blissful ignorance, unaware of the ominous threat lurking in the hidden corners of the palace. A dangerous dance began. One in which the laughter of a princess served as an eerie soundtrack to a covert operation that would reshape Celestria's destiny.

As daylight bathed the kingdom in golden hues, the shadowy group moved in secrecy. Their ominous influence extended to unsuspecting future queens. The dark puppet, manipulated by unseen hands, infiltrated the royal court and left a menacing presence.

The king, who had followers in every country, became aware of the terrifying power. Fearing for his family and the future of his country, he had his troops strengthened and also looked for a guardian for his daughter. So he spread the word throughout the country that a tournament was to be held in the late evening and that the bravest and strongest fighters were to take part.The anticipation of the great tournament was in the air that day. The king, seeking the perfect protector for his most precious treasure, gathered warriors from faraway lands. Men vying for the honor of protecting the jewel of the realm presented themselves in the arena.

The tournament, a spectacle of skill and courage, began with the clash of swords and the thundering hooves of warhorses. Knights from all corners of the realm showcased their skills, a dance of blades played out under the watchful eyes of the royal court.

As the dust settled and countless fighters succumbed to the skill of their opponents, there was a quiet tension among the spectators. The king, seated on his magnificent throne, surveyed the remaining warriors, his keen eyes searching for the one who would serve as a shield against the impending danger to the princess. Then, amidst the remaining fighters, a lone, young figure emerged, clad in armor that seemed to absorb the essence of the shadows. The air fell silent as this knight stepped forward, exuding an aura of fear and admiration. A murmur went through the audience, a collective acknowledgement that a formidable force had entered the arena.

The king, mesmerized and wary, leaned forward in his throne, a silent question etched on his regal countenance. "Tell me, what is a child doing on the field?" he asked his 1st in command. He bowed to his king, "Forgive me, my majesty, but you emphasized that the gates were open to anyone carrying a sword." The king forced the moment back into his mind and now looked further down, at the person.

At that very moment, the mysterious knight removed the helmet, revealing a cascade of fiery red hair framing a face marked by the scars of countless battles. Her piercing gaze, a mixture of steel and determination, met the king's eyes with an unwavering intensity. A murmur went through the hall as the realization set in. "Lady, Natalia Alianovna Romanoff," someone breathed, the name inspiring both awe and fear. As the first young woman to be knighted, Natasha was widely known, and her accomplishments on the battlefield were whispered about in saintly tones. The king, who also learned of her presence, widened his eyes.

As she approached the king, Natasha dropped to one knee, a sign of respect and submission. Her armor bore the marks of countless victories, and the sword at her side was a testament to her skill as a warrior.

"Your Majesty," Natasha's voice, a symphony of authority and humility, echoed through the arena. "I am Natalia Alianovna Romanoff, sworn to protect those deemed worthy of the Empire's protection. I offer my skills and loyalty to defend your princess, the jewel of Celestria." The king, observing the steely determination in Natasha's eyes, pondered her words. Isn't she too young to be a knight? Presently good..She could form a bond with Y/n. He thought.

The court remained in a collective breathless pause, awaiting the monarch's decision. After a moment's thought, the king nodded, a gesture that echoed through the arena like a decree.

"Lady Natasha Romanoff, rise. You have proven that you are an excellent Fighter. May the realm be witness to your service as my daughter's protector."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and whispers in appreciation of the gravity of the moment. Natasha rose from her knees and hid her features behind her helmet again. With measured steps, she returned to the ranks of the assembled knights, her presence leaving an indelible impression on the tournament and setting the stage for a new chapter in the kingdom's saga. Since then, the unique bond between the young princess and the fearless knight began to grow. Y/n, a little bundle of joyful energy, zoomed through the flowerbeds. "Tasha, look, I can fly!" she cried, spreading her tiny arms. Natasha, with a smile on her lips, leaned down. "Really? Show me, little whirlwind." And chase her through the field.

"Tasha, why are you so strong?" asked Y/n three years later, while they were playing in the halls. Natasha, with a mischievous smile, replied, "Strength comes not only from muscles, but also from courage and determination, my Princess."

The royal parents, from their thrones, watched the scene with warm smiles. "Look how Natasha is teaching our daughter," said the queen. The king nodded proudly. "A bond strengthened not only by duty, but also by the heart..I could not have chosen anyone better."

In the shelter of the pavilion, Y/n and Natasha talked about the years of shared experiences. "Promise me, Natasha, that you will always be by my side," Natasha, serious yet tender, replied, "As long as I breathe, I will watch over you, Princess."

Over the years, not only did Y/n grow up, but so did the love between her and Natasha. Adventures together, laughter and tears formed a bond that blurred the boundaries between princess and protector.

At the age of 20, Y/n found herself in the midst of an inner turmoil. The years had passed since Natasha had taken up residence as her protector, and a subtle change was creeping into the princess's mind.

In the quiet moments when the sun slowly disappeared behind the palace walls, Y/n discovered a growing urge to seek Natasha's closeness. Every look from the knightess, every gentle touch, seemed to break through an invisible barrier within Y/n.

The glances Natasha cast across the ballroom as they shared in royal festivities carried a deeper meaning. Y/n recognized the warmth in Natasha's eyes, which came not only from her proximity to the king, but betrayed something more intimate. Uncertainty gnawed at Y/n as she thought about these growing feelings. Society, royal expectations, all created a veil that kept her growing affection for Natasha hidden.

The Royal Mother observed the subtle changes in Y/n's behavior, but the secret remained hidden between the lines. Y/n felt her heart beat faster when she faced Natasha, and the soft sighs that escaped her were carried on the winds of fate.

One day, Natasha, bathed in sweat from the rigorous training session, gracefully moved through the courtyard, effortlessly wrestling each knight that dared to cross her path to the ground. As Y/n strolled through the palace, she unexpectedly caught sight of Natasha in action, sans her usual formidable armor.

Mesmerized by the raw power and agility on display, Yn found it challenging to look away. Natasha's every move seemed like a choreographed dance of strength and finesse. It was the first time Y/n had seen her like this, vulnerable yet invincible

Natasha, engrossed in her sparring session, sensed Y/n's eyes on her. Mid-wrestle with one of the knights, she subtly shifted her gaze to meet Y/n's, exhaling almost imperceptibly. In that brief connection, Natasha's intense focus softened, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips, as if she had caught Y/n in the act.

Y/n, startled by Natasha's awareness, quickly averted her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in the palace architecture. The blush on her cheeks, however, betrayed her attempt to conceal the intrigue Natasha's athleticism had sparked.

She continued her training, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/n, despite her efforts to remain discreet, stole occasional glances, hoping Natasha wouldn't notice..

When a maid approached, unaware of the silent exchange, Y/n stammered, "I-I was just, you know, walking around," as she tried to divert attention from the fact that Natasha had momentarily captured her focus. Natasha, still engaged in her training, shot Y/n a knowing look, her eyes betraying a hint of amusement, silently acknowledging the unspoken connection while respecting Y/n's attempt to keep her feelings concealed.

Several hours passed, and Y/n immersed herself in the demands of royal duties. As she diligently attended to matters within the palace, she couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's training session. Much to her surprise, as she returned to the main hall, there was Natasha, seamlessly transitioning from warrior to protector, resuming her role by Y/n's side.

Their eyes met once again, and this time Natasha's expression spoke volumes. A playful glint in her eyes suggested a shared secret, referencing the earlier stolen glances. Y/n couldn't help but smile in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the connection they had formed.

Weeks later when the moon towered over Celestria, Y/n dared a tentative look into Natasha's eyes. It was as if the universe melded their souls together, and in that moment, Y/n knew it was more than mere reverence for the brave knight. The realization that her heart was following a path of love was like the blossoming of a delicate flower within her. But the world she lived in demanded secrecy - a love that blossomed in the shadow of royal duties.

Another year passed and Y/n's duties to the throne drew ever closer. Her parents now saw her as an adult woman who would later rule the people. However, this could not be done alone and the time had come to find a suitable mate. So they embarked on various journeys to neighboring countries to consider their princes and princesses. A point Y/n is proud to show. With all the fuss she secretly has about Natasha, her eyes opened to another part.

It was a sunny day when the royal family were visiting another kingdom. The family was welcomed with joy. But the festive atmosphere was pervaded by an underlying tension. As Y/n strode through the hall in royal garb, she was swarmed by the polite remarks and advances of the foreign prince. The looks he gave her were full of obvious interest, and the smile on his lips betrayed intentions that went beyond polite courtesies.

Natasha, standing in her imposing armor alongside the royal family, felt a flame of jealousy flare up inside her. Every passionate look, every touched hand, felt like a stab in her chest. In a quiet moment, when the prince engaged Y/n in a private conversation, Natasha could hardly bear the sight. Her hands clenched into fists as she inwardly fought back the burning sting of jealousy.

Finally, the festive gathering broke up and the royal family returned to their chambers. The opulent chambers of Y/n awoke to the pale glow of candles as the evening shrouded the royal estate in an atmosphere of twilight. The prince, wearing a polite facade, had made his intentions clear. But Natasha sensed the unease in the air. When the prince attempted to cross the boundaries of politeness and seek out Y/n in her chambers, Natasha turned cold as ice. Her eyes, normally as impenetrable as the darkness, bore into the young nobleman. Without a word, her gaze spoke volumes, and the prince retreated as if he had entered an invisible barrier.

When Natasha entered Y/n's chamber, the discomfort was reflected on Y/n's face. "Thank you.. I was so uncomfortable, but I didn't mean to be rude," Y/n murmured, her voice low in the intimate atmosphere. Natasha stepped closer, her touch cooler than the night breeze blowing through the open window. "My princess, you never have to compromise for politeness."

In a calculated move that blurred the line between protector and seductress, Natasha lifted Y/n's hand and stroked her fingertips over the delicate skin. "Don't let anyone enter your world if you don't want them to. You deserve respect and so much more."

The darkness of the room seemed to tighten around the two of them as Natasha continued, intensifying her own touch. "And maybe, there is someone..who is willing to go deeper than politeness allows."

The words echoed between the walls as the coolness of the night turned into a dance of desire. Y/n sensed the play of shadows as Natasha, took on the role of seductress. A passionate revelation that in the twilight of her chambers revealed a connection that transcended the duties of the royal hall.

The room lost its dimensions in darkness as Natasha and Y/n were caught in a mesmerizing dance of tension. Y/n's heartbeat quickened as Natasha's words sounded like a breath in the night, a promise that implied more than it stated. "Natasha, I don't know what you mean..." whispered Y/n, her voice caught between curiosity and an underlying desire that lingered in the air. Natasha stepped closer, her gaze like the dark veil of night that hid everything and yet revealed everything. "I speak of desire that goes deeper than any protocol that exists within the walls of a palace."

The atmosphere thickened as Natasha began to loosen Y/n's royal robes with deft fingers. "You can feel it, can't you? This suppressed energy between us. It's time to explore the shadows that lurk in the corners of our connection."

Y/n's breathing quickened as the warmth of Natasha's hands touched her skin. A mixture of fear and desire flickered in her eyes as she embraced the unknown.

"N-Natasha, I... Is this right?" asked Y/n, but her reticence was swallowed up by the darkness.

Natasha replied with a cool smile that betrayed a deep, hidden passion. "Right or wrong, Y/n, does not exist in this world of shadows. There is only what you desire and what you are willing to experience." The air between them was charged as Natasha gently placed her lips on Y/n's. A passionate kiss that burned down the blurred lines between duty and desire. Still, Natasha paused for a moment and looked her princess in the eye, “I notice your looks, your breath when I sneak up on you..you’re begging when I retreat to my chambers..” Natasha pushed the princess onto the bed. The redhead had Y/n's legs wide open. Open for her to devour.

Natasha licked her lips, staring at Y/n's underwear, a hungry look in her mouth. Y/n still felt the slight urge to protest. What is she doing here? What happens if her parents find out about this? Are they allowed-

But all words of resistance melted into a moan in her mouth as Natasha opened her entrance with her tongue. She lay down in front of Y/n, lifting the princess's legs by her thighs onto her shoulders. Natasha's tongue turned her princess's moans into groans and then shouts of ecstasy. After tasting Y/n for long enough, Natasha lifted her head. Her mouth was covered in Y/n's fluid, giving her face a glow that Y/n found simply intoxicating.

"How are you feeling? Can I continue?" Natasha's eyes widened as she saw the sight of her ruler. Spread wide and with her hands clenched in the pillows, "K-Keep going please..” Natasha smiled and climbed up to Y/n to take off her dress and while she undressed Y/n, Natasha kissed Y/n and she tasted herself on her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha inserted two of her fingers into Y/n. In response, the young princess let out a deep moan into Natasha's mouth as she slowly penetrated her. As Natasha alternated between driving her index and middle fingers in and out of Y/n's cavity, Y/n was disturbed by the amount of armor Natasha still had on and set about removing it.

Natasha smirked again as she realized what Y/n's plans were and sat back up, "You could have asked, my highness..." Y/n's eyes were wide as she watched Natasha remove every single piece of metal from her body. Eventually it just tinkled on the floor and Natasha stood before her in a white shirt. She wasted no more time and pounced on the young girl again.

"What do you want me to do, princess?" Natasha now asked, breathing in unison with her aroused ruler. She had already slipped a hand between Y/n's thighs and was leaning on her shorts. Y/n knew what Natasha wanted to hear. "Please.." she begged, "fuck me." Natasha watched Y/n's flushed face. It was so, so lewd. This time, however, Natasha stroked a finger over the edge of her labia and felt how far the wetness had spread.

"You really want it, don't you?" said Natasha with a hint of smugness in her voice. Y/n knew it wasn't to humiliate her, but rather to increase her sense of exposure.

Yes, I really fucking want it, Y/n wanted to say, but managed to hold back. Natasha, however, didn't miss the look on her face before she leaned in and slowly kissed Y/n again. She began to run her fingers up and down the wetness between Y/n's legs, stroking slowly and rhythmically.

Y/n held back any sound that wanted to come out of her mouth, knowing there was more to come. A touch slipped past a certain spot so briefly and lightly that Y/n's body flinched in response. Natasha had to keep her senses together, just a little longer. The stroking and kissing gradually became faster, without either of them noticing against the backdrop of their growing arousal. Natasha's fingers were touching Y/n's clit more and more frequently now, and Y/n couldn't keep up, the tension between her legs growing and her mouth remaining slightly open.

"A-A-hh..." she gasped, and her body arched back more and more. She was crying out now, twisting and turning, her clit at the center of the movement, her hands wrapped around Y/ns, her face pressed into her shoulders, her upper body arched so that her breasts and erect nipples moved against Natasha's body in the same rhythm as the caresses between her thighs. "Nat-..Natasha...!" She cried out. "I'm... ah, I'm..."

Natasha kissed her neck in response and concentrated fully on bringing Y/n to climax. She wanted to hear her princess scream, to feel her thrusting against her body in a frenzy of pleasure. She wanted Y/n to lose all inhibitions and move against her hand like a horny slut. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. Her hips and buttocks began to move against Natasha, thrusting towards her with desire, begging her not to stop. It felt so dirty to cooperate and beg so earnestly, but Y/n didn't care about any of it. Natasha moaned along with Y/n and couldn't hold back either after listening to Y/n feel this way about her.

“Cum for me.”

When Y/n heard Natasha's soft and loving voice moaning like that, she shook with pleasure. Her mind went blank. The room disappeared, the bed vanished. The world consisted only of her body, which contracted and pulsated to release all its pent-up arousal in one go. Y/n didn't know how much time had passed while she trembled and shook and moaned, even though she didn't want to. All she knew was that Natasha had been holding her the whole time and watched every single facial feature of her beloved princess.

TAGLIST: @taliiiaasteria @natty-taffy @natashaswife4125 @lifebyinez @aemilia19 @natwifesblog @clearcoloredlenses @ragoshmog @eringranola

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanov x reader #dom!natasha x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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aheathen-conceivably · 5 months ago

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🎶 Ain't gunna run on lovin', gotta keep moving, never gunna slow down 🎶

From the moment he walked in the door Josephine knew that the man who sat at the bar that night was different. His eyes held none of the worry or desperation of the other patrons, and he moved with a sense of fluid determination that told Jo he knew exactly why he was there.

As he ordered her finest whiskey, she caught sight of the gold rings on his fingers, each carefully embossed with a different emblem or inlaid with diamonds. Glittering amongst them were nails unmarked by the dirt of hard physical labor of nearly every other man in the bar, although the lines on his hands told her that hadn’t always been the case. She set the glass down in front of him and he held her gaze for a moment before turning back to Antoine, sipping his drink slowly and appreciatively.

After a few songs his glass ran dry, and once Jo had poured him another, he looked straight at her, addressing her more directly than most men ever did, “Who’s that playing? He’s new or something, isn’t he? Definitely not from here or I’d remember that face.”

The light glittered on his rings and Jo steadied her voice, “His name is Antoine Duplanchier, all the way from New Orleans. Trained under the piano greats down there, even heard a rumor he played with the Louis Armstrong back in his day.”

The man swirled the whiskey in his glass as his voice took on a bit of a mocking tone, “Why’s he playing guitar, then?”

Without missing a beat Jo smiled, “Well, sir, get me a piano and we can find out.”

He gave her an approving glance, a tinge of humor in his eyes telling Jo that she had judged his character correctly, “And what are you paying him here?”

Jo brought her hand to her hip and looked him square in the eye, “Now it wouldn’t be very prudent of me to discuss money with a strange man, would it?”

He let out a hearty laugh and a voice rang out behind them. “Father! When did you get here? You’re meant to be gone another week!”

He jumped to his feet, leaving his whiskey behind as he rushed to where Val stood. “Yázhí! Look at this place! You’ve done fine work, little one! I finished the opening in Gallup sooner than expected, so I wanted to see how things were running here. Swimmingly, it seems.”

A sort of innocent excitement crossed Valcita’s face as she pulled away from his hug. It was so different from her usual expression that it made Jo smile. She didn’t seem to catch it as she gestured over to the bar where Jo stood, “That’s in part thanks to Josephine here, father. She’s come along quite nicely.

“We’ve met, Yázhí. She was telling me about your guitarist. Antoine, yes?” He left his eyes trained on Jo, looking for confirmation that everything she said had been true. As soon as she nodded her head yes, he gave her a pleased grin and turned back to his daughter. “I must say, it’s a smart move. Adds a certain atmosphere that’s missing at the other roadhouses. Lifts some of the depression you can’t seem to escape these days, even on the route.”

His next words came quickly, as though he had already made the decision even before asking Jo who was on the stage. “Say, Miss Josephine, you ever considered going out on the road? I’ll double whatever Valcita here has offered you.”

“Father!”

He looked at her shocked expression and brushed it off with a laugh, “Well you must lure a snake out of its hole somehow. Besides, the roadhouse numbers are promising. More and more Okies on that route need somewhere to stop, something to drink. Then anybody with a lick of money has been sold Route 66 like it’s some sort of promise land. I’ve got more white people in cadillacs stopping at the courts than I thought possible. Competition will catch on soon though, so we’ve gotta differentiate ourselves now. So what do you say, Miss Josephine, a few weeks, just a tour of our places in New Mexico? Maybe a few in Arizona.”

For the briefest of moments, the victorious smile vanished from Josephine’s red lips. She looked toward Antoine, who’s consistent playing and dazed eyes told her that he knew none of what was transpiring at the bar right in front of him. She knew that she should speak to him before saying another word, to formulate some sort of plan with him, Gio, and Zelda; but this didn’t seem like the sort of man who’s patience you tested, and the loan on their farmhouse matured in a little over a month.

She rounded the bar, eyes angled straight at the man whose offer promised to save and ruin their lives in a single handshake. She reached out toward him first, ignoring both Val and Antoine in her periphery. “I’d say you’ve got a deal, Mr. Grove. But I want half up front, both for him and me as his manager.”

The sparkle in his eyes matched the gold of his rings and he stuck out his hand out to meet hers, “Only because I like you, Miss Josephine.”

#1934 #sims 4 historical #ts4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #1930s #hosa grove #Valcita grove #Josephine Duplanchier #Antoine Duplanchier

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hwanchaesong · 7 months ago

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┗🖋️ Fun, was it, when the poor smile / A wooden home has gone senile / Its soil is nothing but fertile / Yet the fruits are declared as an exile 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

wc: 1.7k

genre & warnings: angst, forbidden love au, historical/royalty au, mentions of death, revenge, violence, like.. just pure angst for this one, fluff if u squint ig, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Lower your head, peasant." a guard kicked Jungwon's back, making him stumble on the carpeted floor of the throne room.

His whole body shakes in pain, bruises and dirt covered most of his skin, and there may be some broken bones due to his previous struggles against the royal knights last night.

He deserves the agony, but being presented to you like this is plain torture.

Jungwon knew that the weight of his treason was equals to death. The minute he accepted the mission of espionage to the royal family of his own country, the grim reaper himself had been following him since.

The clacking heeled-steps of a person echoes throughout the room, getting nearer his filthy, disheveled form.

His eyes remain downcast, still, he is able to make-out the golden fabric of your gown as you cease movements a mere inches away from him.

"Everyone, out." you ordered, the guards hesitated at first and were about to protest but your sharp glare made them shut their mouths, opting to follow your directive.

The head knight, Jay, went on one knee before withdrawing, "Please be careful, Your Majesty."

You smile at him, waving him off, "I will. Thank you, Jay."

The male got up but not without giving Jungwon a nasty stare down, one that sent shivers down his spine due to the incredible loathe that it holds.

Several rushing footsteps faded away, then the door was shut, leaving you alone with the man that you, unfortunately, still love despite his treachery.

"Jungwon, you may raise your head." you say in a gentle manner, allowing him some freedom.

"I believe I cannot do that, Your M-"

"Do not make me repeat myself, Viscount Yang Jungwon."

He gulps, finally tilting his head and meeting your eyes. A facade of indifference covers your entirety, but he is not foolish enough to discern that you are breaking from inside and out.

"Your fate rests on my hands." you mumble and he can only nod in response, waiting for further instructions, "I have some inquiries for you, and you have no choice but to answer honestly."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

You take a deep breath, crouching down and matching his height. That made his eyes widen, coming face to face with you is something that he did not expect.

He stares at your gorgeous face but he prefers your natural one, no make-up, just you. The one that he gazes at during the nights where you sleep in his arms, huddling you closer to his body for more warmth.

You finally asked your first question, "Why did you approach me that night?"

It was a beautiful soirée, the night is young and you enjoy watching your citizens dance and eat as you sit in peace.

Suddenly, a young man appeared in front of you. He elegantly bowed, introducing himself as the son of the great Yang family.

You observed him for a minute. He is dressed in the finest fabric of a suit, hair styled to perfection, and he seems like a clean-cut type of boy.

"Good evening Your Majesty, I have come to ask for your hand for a dance. If I may?" he politely asks and you were shocked at his boldness.

Most people wouldn't dare to do what he just did, too scared to disrespect the unmarried queen of their country. You must applaud him for his bravery.

"All right then, Viscount Yang, I shall accept your invitation." you got off your seat, motioning for the servants to calm down and that you can handle the situation.

The man held your hand delicately, guiding you to the dance floor. The others gasped at the interaction, an uncommon sight of their queen dancing with a man.

As his hand went to your waist, yours on his shoulder and the remaining free hands remained intertwined, you two began swaying to the classical music performed by an ensemble.

You gaze into his cat-like eyes, his sweet smile giving you a sense of comfort.

At that moment, you can't help but think; is this your destined man sent by the heavens?

"It is my mission to get close to you. Such an order was given to me by my employer." he responds, avoiding your eyes as he does so.

"Who is your employer?"

"My apologies, Your Majesty. As part of my integrity, I could not tell you my employer's name." Jungwon closes his eyes, fists clenched so hard that his nails are digging through his palms.

Your hands went up to cradle his face, forcing him to look at you once more.

"Just Y/N. You, calling me 'Your Majesty' is not.. it does not bode well with me." you chuckle a bit, peering into the chocolate orbs that you have grown fond of.

It is astounding how he manages to be this stunning regardless of his unfastidious appearance.

Jungwon is silent for a while, opening his mouth to speak, "I do not h-"

"I am your queen, I command it." you said with finality, using your power to submit to you.

Jungwon inhaled, his sweaty palms shaking as he refrains from covering yours that are still warmly placed on his skin, "I understand, Y/N."

Your eyes soften, feeling joy at hearing your name roll off his tongue, "Now then, tell me why you decided to betray our kingdom. Why would you go through this trouble even when you were born from a noble family?"

He flinched at the straightforward question, but ultimately decided to tell you the truth. Voicing out his hostilities and childhood.

"I am a mere bastard from a maid." he starts and there is no stopping now, "My father needed to save his image. Since he was an acquaintance of the former king-"

"My late father?" you interject and he nods, continuing his story afterwards.

"They conspired together. Killed my mother, adopted me just to belittle me. I was only truly respected by those vermin when I became successful in life. Thus, everything that I did was for revenge. I wanted the royal family to suffer like I did."

A few seconds of pause ensued, letting his narrative sink in. And you sympathize with him, thankful that he opened this to you, trusting you with this valuable information.

"Very well." you then wiped a smudge of dried blood on his cheek, staining your porcelain and clean thumb, "Lastly, did you sincerely love me?"

Jungwon's eyes widened, completely forgetting about the invisible barrier and grasping your hands in his.

He is a raging liar, a traitor, the lowest of the low but when he told you— when he promised you under the stars that he loves you with all his heart, that was the truest sentiment that he could ever muster.

You can doubt his whole being, his existence, even his background but god forbid your dubiety for his love.

It was not in his agenda to fall in love, but with you, harboring such burning feelings was so easy as breathing itself.

Jungwon would rather die than to see or feel your lack of confidence in his affections.

"I did, god I-I do. I still do," he clutched you harder, wanting to get his emotions across you, "I love you so much. Y/N, my eternity, I may be a snake in the grass but my devotion for you is out there in the open, under the sun with the blooming flowers."

It's his love for you that caused this mess in the first place. He was so distracted by the rainbows that a simple slip-up turned his blue skies into rain.

The corner of your lips quivered, his outburst was enough confession, leaning closer to him to press a sweet, lasting kiss on his forehead, mumbling against his skin, "That is all I need to know, my Won."

You abruptly stand up, detaching yourself from Jungwon and tilting your head towards the giant door, speaking in a louder voice while you steeled your expression into one befitting of a queen.

"You may now all come in."

The servants rushed inside the room, positioning themselves in their respective former spots.

You cleared your throat, facing the majority of the people.

"By the power bestowed upon me. I, L/N Y/N, hereby proclaim the accused, Yang Jungwon, to be banished from this sacred land."

You focused on his surprised expression, your teary eyes speaking more than a thousand words to him, "You may never step foot in this country ever again. Once you do, I will have your head presented to me."

You turn to your most trusted knight, ordering him to escort the defector.

Jungwon stands on his feet as well, giving you a tender, longing smile. You see it, the way he mouthed 'I love you', and you have to fight back the tears. You have to be strong as you watch him exit the throne room.

Your eyes landed on your fingers, the gleaming coronation ring next to the jewelry that Jungwon gifted you seems to be mocking you. No matter how sky high your desire is to spend the rest of your life with Jungwon, the fact that you are the grand sovereign of your kingdom will forever tie you to your duties and priorities.

First and foremost, you are married to the nation. Therefore, your wilting heart is nothing more than a nightmare that you shall forget.

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

Jungwon continues walking through the dim, torch-illuminated tunnel, when suddenly a cocking sound is heard.

It doesn't take a genius to know what it is, and it made him chuckle in disbelief.

"Yang Jungwon, Her Majesty might have wanted you to be banished. But I wanted you dead."

Jungwon seethes, not having the mood to do child's play, venturing to face the perpetrator who is currently threatening him.

"Are you still vexed that Her Majesty chose me and not you? It's amazing to witness how bitter you are, Jay." he raised an eyebrow, further aggravating the knight.

"Oh?" the older smirks, "I can dispose of you right here without anyone knowing, and you dare speak to me like that?"

"I am not scared of you." Jungwon declares with hardened eyes, flashing orange due to the fire from the torches, staring through Jay's soul, "I am not scared of anything anymore."

Not when he had already lost the person that he treasures the most.

Jay gnashed his teeth, "Then, I'll gladly send you to hell."

"Go ahead," Jungwon shrugs, fully challenging an equipped man, "kill me and go against your queen's orders."

taglist

@ramenoil @shakalakaboomboo @slutforjeno

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stardancerluv · 3 months ago

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What the Emperor Wants

Part Five

Summary: Geta speaks with his brother. Reader speaks with a trusted servant.

Notes/Warnings: mentions of ownership, mentions of viewed gender (in Ancient Rome), discussion of intimacy, quote from the famous Virgil in is italics.

❤️s, comments, reblogs & feedback are welcome and appreciated!

Carcalla turned sharply, his eyes were slits as he looked at him. “How dare you?” He snarled.

Geta rose his eyebrows. “How dare I?”

“Yes. In front of what? Her? She is nothing.” Caracalla, cackled once again.

Geta closed what little distance was between them. “She is mine. She is my property. Eventually, I may or may not free her but still then, you dare lay another finger on her and you may learn to regret it.”

Caracalla’s eyes grew but then they narrowed again as a wet chuckle escaped his cruel mouth.

“Oh? Are you getting sentimental?” His lips curled. “Do you need to buy the ones you sleep with?”

“Silence your voice.”

Caracalla finally was silent.

He had better realize, he was in know mood for his games.

“I am having a dinner here tonight with some of those insufferable senators, you can stay or you can go out with your cohorts but don’t you dare cause another scene.”

“There of no concern for me brother. I will let you handle them.”

With a swish of his robes he left. Geta’s stomach churned. He had been so relaxed, so calm and now he saw red.

Going to one of the adjacent rooms, he went and sighed once in the cooler room. It helped to calm his thudding heart. Seeing one of the tellings of August going to Germania was laying on one of the tables from the last time he was there. He ran his fingers over the papyrus before unrolling more of it, letting his eyes drift over the words.

He’d call someone to read some poetry. He was in no mood for some of the long discussions those senators enjoyed having.

*******

Once back in your small room, you finally let the tears fall down your cheeks. You could never understand the sharp difference Geta and Caracalla. How they were borne from the same woman, always surprised you. You were reminded of the tales of Romulus and Remus, your mother spoke of. Though, you truly hoped that Geta and Caracalla would not end up like they did.

It was the one moment, you doubted that Geta could possibly lose in such an instance. May the mighty Jupiter keep him safe, you quietly prayed.

Carcalla was far more brutal, more blood thirsty then Geta from what you had heard and observed. You worried if things came to that, who would be the victor and what would happen to you. Now Geta protected you, but how long would that last. Was it possible that he’d discard you like an old, worn rug or put you down like a wounded animal that could not heal.

All these musings swirled around you as you sat there, still shaking after Caracalla pushed you across the atrium.

*******

Thy son in Italy shall wage vast war and, quell its nations wild; his city-wall and sacred laws shall be a mighty bond about his gathered people.

“Yes! That is how is shall always be!” Geta held his goblet up high. “And my general, Marcus Acacius shall wield our finest steel and strike fear in all that oppose us!”

Cheers, sounds of agreement filled the room.

Relief had filled you as you watched the good humors and contentment in Geta, the earlier feelings of worry gone and long forgotten.

Marcus Acacius, bowed his head and smiled as he looked back up. “Thank you sire.”

You took, a sip from your own goblet and before once again resting your hands back into your lap. The poetry of the man known as Virgil and the savory food filled everyone. They were warmed and had a healthy flush of color in them. It was all this that brightened the room more then even the candles that were placed all around.

As you glanced up towards the inky heavens, even the stars were far more brilliant then recently. You were very pleased, to be sitting beside Geta through in all.

******

“Your presence had calmed and pleased Geta tonight. That may mean, he will come for you.” Aelia told you softly as she undid the ribbons that had held your hair in.

“Oh? Shall it hurt ?” A slice of worry cut through you.

“He is in good spirits. There may only be a temporary discomfort but if he wants to keep the good humors.”

Taking a comb, she began to slide it through your strands.

“He may make sure sure it is only for the initial moments. Just keep on breathing, do not bottle up your breaths.”

“Do we as women ever enjoy it or is that only a prospect of intimacy lay with the women who do these acts who charge ?”

You heard as Aelia inhaled. It made you happy pause and look at her. “What?”

The woman had pressed her lips together. “Thank you for acknowledging my woman hand. I am only seen as thus from my equals, you may or may not be aware but since our sire owns you personally, you are above me.”

You made a face. “No, I am not aware. I was just a girl who would serve and remain in the shadows.”

The woman gave a small smile. “Not anymore.”

She looked away before looking once again back at you.

“But yes, we can however that decision of that, is solely up to our sire. He may just want to expel his needs. I do not know.”

“Ok. Just like I had promised to him. I will follow his guidance.”

“That is truly the best.”

You felt as her fingers trembled as she continued to care for your hair.

******

The candles flickered as your door opened. You glanced over from where you sat.

It was one of Geta’s personal guard. “You are to come from me. Our sire, wishes you to come to his private quarters.

“Yes.” Was all you said.

Your footfalls and his echoed in the silent Domus. No other sounds could be heard. Such a contrast to the earlier festive and merriment. There had been liquid been been flowing into goblets and utensils and plants clanking on tables as food was ate and served.

******

The door creaked as he opened it. You walked in and flinched as it banged, behind you once it closed.

“There is the blossom of Rome, my blossom.”

Turning you watched as Geta strode in. A rich red, maroon of sorts were tied and flowed down from his waist. You had never seen his bare chested, his strength was very apparent. You had only seen that kind of strength reflected in the Gladiators that fought and battled in the arena.

“Evening, Geta. Thank you for your kind words.”

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @missonlypost @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @heartsforjosephquinn

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medievalandfantasymelee · 7 months ago

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COME ONE, COME ALL to the MOSTE ILLUSTRIOUS TOURNAMENT of the FINEST, the MOSTE PUISSANT and HOTTEST MEN MEDIEVAL MEDIA HAS TO ITS CREDIT.

Be it known that we shall accept submissions of the hottest men OF THE PEOPLES’ CHOOSING from any live-action* TV or movie media property set between the years AD 500 – 1550 (Tudors WELCOME!!), and any fantasy properties which emulate said period!

KNOW ALSO that we, by the grace of this fine hellsite and with the counsel of the moste honorable and illustrious @hotvintagepoll (many thanks), have made

THESE GUIDELINES here given:

ANY HOT GUY who appears in any movie or TV show released in ANY YEAR, from ANY COUNTRY, shall be deemed eligible for entry. Below are listed examples of eligible properties. If YE BE NOT CERTAIN whether your hot guy is eligible, submit him anyway!

Examples of Eligible Properties: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-03), Game of Thrones (2011-19) House of the Dragon (2022), Wolf Hall (2015-2024), The Tudors (2007-2010), Ladyhawke (1985), The Princess Bride (1987), The White Queen (2013), Rise of Empires: Ottoman (2020-2022), Vikings (2013-2020), The Last Kingdom (2015-2022), Diriliş: Ertuğrul (2014), A Knight’s Tale (2001), BBC’s Robin Hood (2006-3009), The Last Duel (2021), The Story of Minglan (2018), The Borgias (2013), Robin Hood (1939), Outlaw King (2018), Pilgrimage (2017), Legend (1985), Braveheart (1995), The Green Knight (2021), Excalibur (1981), Beowulf & Grendel (2005), The Lion in Winter (1968), Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993), The Black Adder (Blackadder Series 1, 1982), Rashomon (1950)

Remember: This is just a list of examples—WOW ME!

These following titles are examples of properties that do not fall within or emulate the stated time period and therefore DO NOT QUALIFY: The Three Musketeers (Any Version), Pirates of the Caribbean (2004), Barbarians (2020), Gladiator (2000), Ben Hur (1959), Shogun (2024), Elizabeth (1999), 300 (2006), Troy (2004), Xena: Warrior Princess (1995-2001), Disney's Robin Hood (1973)**, Yojimbo (1961), Shakespeare in Love (1998), King Arthur (2004)***

For the purposes of this tournament, "Man" and "Guy" are defined as any bi-pedal humanoid male character played by a man. As such, characters belonging to non-human races such as Hobbits, Orcs, Elves, Demons, Fauns, Werewolves etc. ARE admissible, and, indeed, encouraged.

If you have propaganda you forgot to include in your submission, just hold onto it and send it in an ask after the Tournament begins.

You may submit as many hot men as you like but please submit only ONE ENTRANT per submission.

Do not hesitate to submit ANY hot guy you think may qualify, no matter how popular he is. There is no such thing as a shoo-in with these tournaments. If you think "Someone MUST have submitted him already!" Everyone else is probably thinking that too and then he may well NEVER get submitted and we don't want that.

Do not worry about how many submissions your hot guy might have had already--I need to get a sense of who the strongest contenders are in order to fairly seed the draws, and the best way to do that is volume of submissions.

We are voting on the hotness of the characters. While the actors who portray them are of course a major factor in this, we are not voting on the actors themselves, therefore propaganda pertaining to the actors real lives (aside from anecdotes relating to their portrayal of the character) is not admissible.

By that same token, in the case of historical figures (e.g. Henry VIII) we are judging hotness based on the fictionalized portrayals of them in these properties, not on historical fact.

Regarding immortal/time-travelling/dimension-hopping/extremely long-lived characters, regardless of when the character was born, the main action**** of the story must take place within the Medieval Period (see dates listed at the top of this post) or Medieval-esque fantasy fantasy realm in order for them to be eligible for submission. As such, characters like the Pevensie brothers (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Ash Williams (Army of Darkness) are admissible, but Asgardians (the MCU Thor films) are not.

I, as the Administrator and Master of Revels of this tournament, am exercising discretion in the admittance of characters from works by Shakespeare, since many of them have no set date.

Re: characters adapted from books/written works - Book quotes by/ about your character are not admissible as Propaganda for their tv/ movie counterparts unless said quotes were also written into the show/movie.

Book illustrations and fanart are not admissible Propaganda

SUBMISSIONS SHALL REMAIN OPEN UNTIL MIDNIGHT, JULY 1st

The Tourney shall begin at a date yet to be determined with the Melee (Qualifying Rounds), wherein the entrants with the fewest submissions and least propaganda will duke it out in a free for all brawl to determine who will enter the Lists.

SUBMIT YOUR ENTRANTS HERE TODAY!!!

-- Master of Revels

*The "live-action" qualification does have a caveat: exception may be made for those CGI films which were all the rage in the mid-00's that used the motion-capture and likeness of the actors; for example characters from, Robert Zemeckis's Beowulf (2007) are admissible.

** this one doesn't qualify, not because it isn't the right time period, but because it falls solidly under the "Animated" category.

***Yes, sadly we are deprived of the beautiful countenances of Clive Owen, Mads Mikkelsen, Ioan Gruffudd et al because the producers of this film in their infinite wisdom and in an attempt to seem "more historically accurate" chose to set it during the Roman withdrawal from Britain, which occurred in the 5th Century (About a CENTURY earlier than Authurian tradition) and is generally agreed to have ended by AD 410. It therefore does not fall under the Medieval umbrella and is not eligible for submission.

**** "Main Action" here defined as "More than half an hour of a movie and more than two episodes of a series"

#medieval fantasy #asoif/got #lord of the rings #a knight's tale #the last kingdom #vikings #the princess bride #house of the dragon #medieval films #tumblr polls #fantasyandmedievalmelee #tournament poll #game of thrones #got

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shiny-jr · 2 years ago

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♥ damnation [ the king of hearts ]

– Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

– Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

– Characters: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Riddle Rosehearts.

– Note: Decided to try a new type of look with the formatting here, thought it would be a good opportunity since I used the original formatting I usually use with the original announcement post. Okay, so, here is one of currently three and what will eventually be seven results from my damnation project, which I’ll link below. Lots of content for y’all. I wanted to put all three results in one post, but that would be so annoying for readers because the post would end up ridiculously long. Which is why I opted to separate the results. Anyways, I’m also posting these here for those who do not want to take my quiz (please try it, I worked hard on it!) or just can’t get the result they want from it. So, here it is.

– Pages: 42

– Not satisfied? Try looking here for the quiz to take it yourself and see where you end up banished!

The King of Hearts | The Hyena Chieftain

Robes. You were wearing robes of the finest quality that weighed heavily on your shoulders. This surface you laid on felt... nice. Soft, nothing like the hard bench of the prison cell. As you sat up and recalled your current dire situation, you felt a sense of dread loom overhead like a thick blanket of gray clouds. Immediately, fearfully, you scanned your surroundings. Everything was painted red, there was so much red velvet. The floors were polished checkered black and white and the furniture, if not completely red, was crafted of finely carved wood. It was fancy here. Safe, for now. Wherever this place was.

There was something hefty on your head, only noticing its weight settling on your skull as you moved to stand up from the crimson red sheets on the king-sized mattress. As you removed the item from your head, you were perplexed to see a small golden crown and a heart-shaped staff beside the spot you had laid on. Wait just a moment... red everywhere? A fancy setting? A crown and a heart-shaped staff? Rapidly you dashed over to the mirror just beside the bed, gasping at your appearance.

You were dressed just like royalty. And not just any royalty, like a king. A king of red with a heart-shaped staff... Just like the meek king that was married to the ruthless Queen of Hearts from the fairytales. So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... you were the king. How did the story go again?

The Red Queen, or Queen of Hearts, ruled over Wonderland with an iron fist. She would behead anyone who got in her way, and her reign terrorized the residents of the realm. That is, until Alice fell down a hole and arrived in Wonderland. She would eventually free this land from the oppressive rein of the queen. As for the king... what happened to him again? He didn't really appear in the story. You wracked your memory for an answer, when the horrid realization came to you. The Red Queen had been so terribly jealous and suspected that her husband was cheating, that she had him beheaded! His head left to rot as it floated in a river of blood, surrounded by the heads of other victims, and the king's lifeless head still with the crown. He had died before Alice even arrived in Wonderland!

You clutched your neck, grimacing at the thought of your own detached head, crown still attached, doomed to sail in a moat of blood. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. There had to be a way to prevent your death, or at least stall for time, but how? The king couldn't just up and run away! People would take notice immediately, someone would inform the queen, and you'd be a goner for sure! But then what? You couldn't kill her either, could you...? It certainly was an idea. You would be doing a favor for the rest of Wonderland too...

THUMP!

Abruptly the doors flew open, nearly causing you to shriek. But you managed to hold your tongue as you quickly placed your crown back on and clutched your staff. When your eyes focused on the door, you were surprised and almost relieved to see the figure of a short young man that had slammed the doors open. He was... rather adorable, actually. It caused you to tilt your head, endeared by his appearance.

The young man had hair that shamed the red roses, and wide gray eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on you, however, his face grew flush and his expression twisted into one of rage. Immediately he slammed the doors shut behind him, stomping up to you, his heels violently clicking against the tiled floors. When the short young man was in your face, another horrible realization dawned on you. With that crown on his head and his wondrous red garbs, this could only be the queen. Or at least, someone meant to be the red queen.

“You knave! Where have you been lurking?!”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? What was the king even doing before you got here? Most importantly, how would you avoid this queen’s wrath?

At your lack of a response, he only seemed to grow more frustrated as he threw wild accusations, “You–– You’ve been sneaking about, seducing the men of my court, haven’t you?! I shall have your head––!”

“Wha–– N-No, I haven’t!” You blurted out. The king was originally beheaded because the queen was jealous and thought she would lose him to others. So if you could assure him that your heart belonged to him, well… survival just might be possible. Although acting wasn’t necessarily your strong point, you could only try for the sake of living another day. Nervously you smiled, throwing aside your staff as you lifted your hands to gently hold his fist he had been angrily waving near your face. Thank god he didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort, or you feared he may have tried to stab you out of raging envy. “How could I ever dare to throw my loyalty to you away…? You are amazing…! I apologize sincerely if I haven’t been able to express my love for you properly. Sometimes it feels like you’re really too much for my heart to handle, you in all your… glory…!” Oh god, this was going terribly. All you could do to give the messy act a bow to top it off, was lean your head down and hesitantly kiss the back of his hand.

Miraculously, that seemed to work. Almost. The queen’s face was no longer as flushed, but he gazed down at you as you lingered at his hand. Suspicion was still evident in his eyes. “How do I know?”

“H-Huh…?”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you won’t leave me as well? How do I know that you still love me? Prove it to me.” Those gray eyes of his watched you carefully, seemingly unhappy with your lack of a response. After about five seconds of no answer, his face scrunched up and he bellowed, “Guards!! Gua–– mmph!”

Not knowing what else to do, you kissed him. He wanted a sign of devotion, right? Oh god, this was it. Your death was here and now. You had no other way to shut him up. If you covered his mouth with your hands, you were a goner. If you attacked him, you were a goner. If you tried to continue reasoning, you were still a goner! You can’t believe that this was how you died, having to kiss a stranger as your last desperate attempt to stay alive. Well, he wanted a sign. You were ready for him to push you off and armored guards come running in to drag you to the guillotine, when the most unexpected thing happened. He froze, he didn’t fight back or scream bloody murder.

When you slowly pulled away, you were stunned. His face was flush again, but for an entirely different reason other than anger. There was a dazed look on his face, and it almost looked as if he wanted to do it again judging by how he gazed longingly at your lips. It was then you understood that your reckless decision making might’ve just saved your neck.

The red ruler frowned, but you were unsure if it was because he was unsatisfied with something or if it were for another reason entirely. This time, when he opened his mouth, he spoke softly, as if still dazed. “You scoundrel… How dare you play with my heart like this? I should still take your head for that.” You gulped, but he continued. “But… I truly didn’t want to get rid of you. So I’m glad we can avoid that now. I expect to see you well away from the noblemen.”

“Y-Yes… Your Majesty.”

At your obedient response, he smiled and patted your head. “Good.” Taking one step closer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your cheek. He lingered there for a few moments, before taking one step back.

The action left you flustered, embarrassed, because not only had you kissed a stranger but they had kissed you in return. And not only that, this crimson ruler believed you were his partner, the king! Under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered yourself lucky to land in such a position since the king has so much power and wealth. But in this type of situation, you can only shudder to think of what may come next and what would’ve become of you. Because these were no ordinary circumstances, and this was no normal kind ruler.

“Come along now. I don’t want you alone, do you understand?”

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

He beckoned you towards the very doors he entered from, and when he opened them, you were met with another character. It was a tall man with glasses and short messy dark green hair. Immediately he bowed to the queen, but when his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he saw a ghost.

“Change of plans, Trey. We will not be beheading my king today. Nor tomorrow, I think. They’ve become quite affectionate, so my doubts have been dismissed.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty…” The glass-wearing man, Trey, glanced over at you with disbelief, but he looked a bit relieved, it’s as if he wanted to say something. But he opted to hold his tongue and instead shifted his gaze forward as he walked beside the red-haired royal. “There is still that soldier imprisoned that displeased you.”

“Ah yes, the one that claimed to see those messy blonde locks but failed to capture our lost wanderer. Bring him to me in the throne room.” Just then he glanced at you as you walked a bit behind him, “My dear, you must be there with me. This should be quite the spectacle. I will see you in a moment.”

“A-As you say, Your Majesty…” You replied stiffly.

He frowned and stopped in his tracks before grabbing your collar and bringing your face closer to his. What you half expected was a sharp knife against your throat, something that would kill you, but there was no such thing. There was only his sharp gaze and disappointed tone. “You’re supposed to respond with: my dear. Not Your Majesty, not Rosehearts, but perhaps I’ll allow Riddle for now. Do you understand, dearest?”

So his name was Riddle. Judging by Riddle’s tone, he wasn’t angry, but rather irked that all the sweetness from earlier was now gone. Proceeding, you chose your words carefully as you attempted to smile as convincingly as possible, “Y-Yes, of course, anything you say, Riddle, my darling.”

At your words his cheeks became a pink hue before he let go of you and cleared his throat, quickly turning away and proceeding forward towards the end of the hall where he had whatever duties to fulfill. So you were left with Trey, his subordinate. The calm and collected tall man’s shoulders sagged once the royal left, all the tension seemingly evaporating from his body. When he gave you a somewhat soft smile, your worries ceased for the moment as well. “I’m glad you’re still intact. I was certain you were a goner.” He was… nice? “You need to be more careful. I don’t know what you did to change Riddle’s mind, but he was ready to behead you himself. You know how he keeps that huge battle ax under his bed. He mentioned something about using that, and I thought he was going to use it to chop your head clean off.”

Oh god. That little guy was going to do that? That stupid kiss really did save your skin. “Heh, I’m still a little shaken…” Wait, you were supposed to be acting like the king! What did the king even act like? How were you supposed to know? He never even lived long enough to make it into the story! “I, um, am very appreciative towards your concern… Trey.”

Trey appeared a bit surprised but he then smiled once more at you. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, we have a situation on our hands.”

What kind of situation? You didn’t even have time to ask when Trey led you down the checkered hall to an opening behind velvet red curtains which were the entrance directly to the large elegant throne room. There, you saw another stranger talking animatedly to the less-than-pleased-looking Rosehearts. This stranger had orange hair that brushed against his lower neck, and he had much more enthusiasm than those you had encountered thus far.

“Dear, there you are.” Instantly Riddle visibly brightened up as he gestured to the soft smaller heart-shaped throne beside his much larger grand seat. “Come, sit, we’re currently discussing the important matters at hand. Such as the dilemma with our prisoner. Cater, continue.”

When this Cater, fellow’s, green eyes trailed over to you, they became filled with surprise as he fumbled over his words, “Huh–– O-Oh! Right!” Forcing his gaze back on the red-haired royal, he began explaining, “There’s nothing really new to talk about, Your Majesty! I mean, seriously, this rookie was just the unlucky one that happened to see that blondie Ellis. According to him when I went to question him, he just said that he saw the guy in blue and when he went to confront him, Ellis escaped with some purple beastman!”

“Purple beastman…?” For a mere moment he appeared perplexed, when quickly the dots began to connect in his mind as he gasped, “Chen’ya! Why, the nerve of that––!”

When you saw his face begin to heat up again and a look of anger crossed his face, you slowly placed your hand over his arm that rested on the armrest of the throne. Then, he froze, everyone else, Trey, Cater, the armored guards in the room, they all were wide-eyed at what you had done. You had touched the queen when they were about to enter a fit of rage! You messed up–– Shit––

Riddle released a slow breath before placing his other hand atop your own. You felt such a massive flood of relief knowing you made the right move when he appeared much calmer as he nodded his head toward you, “Thank you, my dear. We shall discuss a proper punishment for that wretched feline later. For now…” Instantly his voice did a one-eighty as he turned his head toward the two imposing doors and shouted, “Bring him!!”

Nervously you looked over at Trey who stood tall and upright by Riddle’s side, and he remained oddly focused on the door. And that orange-haired guy, Cater, where did he go…?

“Hey…!”

Your eyes flittered over to you right where Cater was bent over a bit to whisper in your ear, while everyone else was distracted by the prisoner being escorted inside.

“I’m so happy that you’ve alive…! Don’t go dying on me so quickly, ‘kay? You wouldn’t leave me all alone here, would you?”

“Uh… no, of course not.” Huh. This Cater guy seemed pretty close to the king, or now you actually.

When you averted your eyes to the front, you listened to the clacking of armor as you watched more soldiers bring forward one of their own. Yet unlike all the others masked by metal, this soldier in shackles didn’t have a helmet. His messy red hair stuck out every which way, which made you wonder how on earth he even managed to fit that mess of hair under a helmet at all. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he wore a stiff frown as his shackles rattled with every step he took until he was right before the steps leading up to the red royal. When he refused to kneel, he was pushed down to his knees as Riddle eyed him with disdain.

Riddle wasted no time, because as soon as this prisoner was on his knees, he began his tirade of questions. “Ace Trappola, was it? We know you saw Ellis. Do you know where he is?”

The soldier’s head lolled forward a bit, his warm-colored eyes stopping on you for a moment as you gazed back at him. In a way, this Ace reminded you of… well, you. In shackles, forced to kneel, in front of a higher authority that was obviously not particularly fond of you, and likely with a sentence that could only mean your doom ahead of you. In a way, you did feel for him after hearing the basis of why he was arrested.

All was silent, only his shackles could be heard again as he slowly shrugged and snapped back, “I’d like to know that too! I mean, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s free as a bird. Meanwhile, me? Locked up for trying to do my job––!”

“Failing to do your only job.” Riddle corrected with a scoff. “I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Ellis?”

Ace, still annoyed, continued. He must’ve been either stupid or brave for continuing. Although it might’ve been both as he mocked him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Don’t. Know.”

Under your hand you felt Riddle’s fingers dig into the armrest, his knuckles growing white as he raised his voice an octave, “What if I take off your head? Will you know then?”

“If you took my head, you wouldn’t get any answers after that.” He retorted with a slight eye roll.

Underneath your hand you could feel Roseheart’s anger growing the tighter he dug his nails into the chair. When you saw his face, you and everyone else could tell that he was fit to burst, no doubt ready to seal this soldier’s doom. Instantly you shot up from your throne, wanting to help save this prisoner. However, you very quickly began to regret it when all eyes darted over to your form, and you now became the center of attention. You couldn’t just sit back down, so with no other choice, you awkwardly cleared your throat and proceeded nervously, “My dearest, earlier when in our chambers I had an… um… epiphany! A vision! Y-Yes, I had a vision…! Ellis will slay your–– our, pet dragon jabberwocky.”

Instantly Riddle’s eyes widened. “He killed our jabberwocky?!”

“No…! No, at least not yet!”

Technically you weren’t lying. The story goes that the Red Queen had a powerful dragon, the jabberwocky, which was the main reason why she could keep such a grip on the kingdom with no rebellion ever coming close to dethroning her. At least, that is until Alice comes along and slays the jabberwocky. If you could somehow get rid of Alice, or Ellis in this case, and stay in Riddle Roseheart’s good graces, you would have it made! It was practically certain that the court back home thought you would’ve been beheaded already and your head would float in that river of blood for eternity. Yet here you were, alive, and if things went smoothly, you could live out your life in splendor here. Yes, you’d have to deal with the red royal, but if you could just stay in his good graces at all times, you would have a wonderfully lavish life! At this point you were just speeding things up, Ellis’ intentions of slaying the jabberwocky probably weren’t supposed to be revealed until much later. But, it would make a perfect excuse now.

As all eyes remained on you, you recounted your fake tale, “It all makes sense now…! In… In my vision I saw… A red-haired knight, um, clashing swords with a blonde man in blue and white!” Well, that part was a lie. There never was a red-haired knight in the stories. But this was an opportunity to potentially save Ace as well, and give him a chance to redeem himself in Riddle’s eyes. When you turned to face Ace, he was gazing at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you proceeded anyway as you gave your attention to Riddle now. “Riddle, I think–– I mean, I b-believe that knight is this one here in front of us.”

“Him?” The royal exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the soldier with something akin to disgust. To which the said soldier stuck out his tongue before a stern glare from Trey and Cater made Ace close his mouth. Riddle blinked, quiet for a moment before gazing up at you, his expression softening as he flipped over his hand so it held yours. “Is that what you were doing in our chambers alone? You were studying texts and had a vision, to save me?”

“Y…Yes…?”

His big gray eyes became fixated on you, as his voice became soft when he replied, “I’ve misjudged you, my dear… I believed you were being unfaithful, but you were working hard for me. How wrong I was.” The way he looked at you could only be described as adoringly.

It made you nervous, but you could only awkwardly smile in return. In order to ensure your own life of comfort here, you had to be sure to ruin the plot of the story. This meant that Ellis, the protagonist, could not win no matter what. Although it pained you to do such a thing, knowing that the outcome would most likely mean death by beheading him and his allies, you were more afraid of death than you were of the hero. For this, you would have to make sure the antagonist, Riddle Rosehearts in the role of the Red Queen, obtained a happy ending instead of a bad ending where he himself would be banished after being defeated by Ellis.

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly listed off the sequence of events in the way you recalled them playing out, “In my vision I saw… a blonde boy in blue, a purple feline beastmen, and a hatter, among other allies. Ellis will… will attempt to infiltrate the palace, and gain your favor under a disguise, and steal the ancient sword that can slay our Jabberwocky.” As all eyes and ears remained on you, you hesitated once again, mentally apologizing for what you were about to do. Maybe in the end, you might be able to plead with your supposed spouse to spare them. But deep down, you knew it was unlikely for the ruthless tyrant to even consider the idea. “Your Majesty, my darling, i-if I may make a suggestion…?”

Riddle nodded as he listened attentively, “Go on.”

Thankfully you had moved your hands away from his, and had them folded in your lap as you took a seat again so he couldn’t feel the way your fingers trembled with anxiety. “I would like to suggest we allow this knight before us to carry the sword, sheathed and hidden at all times. Let this be his redemption–– um, please, if you allow it, your Majesty.” Said knight gazed up in surprise. “It would be best to keep sir Ace in our sights. So might I ask that he and another capable knight become my guards?” Guards. Smart move, especially if things get hairy later. “I-I’d also like to suggest an increase in your personal escorts too… my dear. So… so you’ll be safe. And, no one else besides those in this room, will know of what we spoke of today––”

“That way, Ellis will come here all on his own, and if he searches for the sword it will not be there.” Riddle finished, to which you nodded. He caught on quickly. “That’s brilliant!” You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the red royal turned to glance at his two subordinates, Trey and Cater, only to gesture to the former prisoner and demand of them, “Unbind him, Trey. How can he wield a sword if his hands are bound?”

Trey slowly stepped forward as Ace was allowed to stand, and he unlocked the shackles around the knight. Ace continued to peer up at you, suddenly flashing a grateful smile. To which you only caught a glimpse of before being distracted by the redhead on the throne.

“Cater!” Cater stood upright immediately and awaited orders from the royal. “Find a suitable knight to escort my partner! I expect only the strongest and most obedient of knights! Am I understood?”

“You got it, Your Majesty! I already have a few in mind.”

“Wonderful. I will be interviewing them myself, as well as hand-picking my own escorts.” Riddle stood from his throne, tossing out more commands and orders to be followed by his remaining subordinate and the guards that had escorted the former prisoner. “You lot, I want an increase on the perimeter and another search crew to hunt down that wretched boy Ellis! Trey, go and fetch the sword. As for you, Ace Trappola,” Turning to face the knight, he warned, “You have one more chance. Should you fail a second time, there will be no do-overs. Your head will roll and your family shall pay the price for your mistakes.”

For a mere moment, disbelief and anger flashed on Ace’s face. Just as he opened his mouth, you spoke up, “T-Thank you, Your Majesty…! You really are so… merciful.” Better to be a pawn in this game than to be dead.

Riddle turned his attention to you before smiling, such a true and proud smile as he declared, “I have you to thank for this, for saving my kingdom and protecting me. Once we have Ellis and his companions captured, we will have a morning execution for him, with front row seats to the show." As his eyes drifted back to the onlookers, he commanded, "All of you shall speak nothing of what transpired in this room.”

A chorus of Yes, Your Majesty echoed in the chamber. The royal nodded, content for now, sending you one last smile before turning on his heels and walking off to elsewhere with Cater in tow. Leaving you alone with Trey and Ace as all other attendants and soldiers exited the throne room to go fulfill their duties.

Just for a moment, you wanted to talk to Ace alone. There was something about Trey, something about the way he watched you so calmly but there was something in those yellow eyes behind those glasses. Something that made it seem like he knew your secret, like he knew you were not really the king. You weren’t sure if it was your paranoia getting to you and your mind was just playing tricks on you, but you wanted to distance yourself as far away from him as possible. As the former prisoner made his way towards you, you cleared your throat and spoke quietly, but loud enough for Trey to hear. “Can–– M-May I have a word with you, sir Ace…? In private.”

“Sure, I’m free now.” He half joked, giving a bit of a grin which didn’t do much to ease your worries.

Trey stood beside the empty throne, watching as you glanced over at him and made a gesture for him to carry on with the assigned duty of retrieving the legendary sword, as dictated by His Majesty. To which he did, after he carefully observed the way you scurried behind velvet curtains with the knight not too far behind.

When you were finally out of sight with Ace, you noticed his raised eyebrow. Noticing this and the way he tapped his foot, you hesitated, unsure where you were even going with this or what you should do now. “You… You look like you have something to say.”

“Why’d you save me?” He demanded, all that cheerfulness from before gone now as things took a serious turn. Looking you up and down, he crossed his arms and continued, “You could’ve had your cute little hubby chop off my head like all the others before me. So, say it. That’s the reason you wanted to talk alone, isn’t it?”

He got you. Were you that obvious? You’d definitely have to work on being more discreet… Looking around twice to make sure no one was listening in, you huddled with him in a corner by the stained glass windows as you whispered hurriedly, in a panic, “O-Okay, whew, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I’m not really the king, or queen, or whatever role I’m supposed to play here! Well, I guess I am now? Uhhh… h-here! It’s like this: I was put on trial in my homeworld, and as punishment I was banished. When I woke up, I was in Roseheart’s bed and he started talking to me like I was an unfaithful partner! I didn’t understand it, until I realized that it was all exactly like a story I read as a child. My punishment was to become the king that dies by being beheaded by his own wife! I… I got out of that somehow, and now, well…”

Ace was looking at you as if you were crazy, as if you had grown an extra head or something. His arms were crossed and he continued to stare at you. Should you have done that? Could you trust him? Well, he did owe you his life. If things really came down to it, you could have him arrested again and beheaded. Play the victim, call guards, and make up some lie that he attacked you, but you really really didn’t want it to go like that… Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle, as if he couldn’t even believe it. “Hold on, let me get this straight: You’re not the royalty, but you’re a criminal from another world? Did you hit your head or something?”

You knew it. He wouldn’t believe you after all.

“I mean, they keep saying this Ellis loser came from another world too… So… Maybe your story doesn’t sound too crazy after all.” His scarlet eyes focused on the floor, as if considering something. “You really weren’t lying about knowing the future. And I thought you had gone mad or something! So I’m a hero in the story?”

You could only scratch your arm nervously, a bit regretful for having to crush his sudden burst of excitement. “Ahaha… not exactly? I made that part up…”

Disappointed at the revelation that he wasn’t some badass hero wielding a legendary sword, he scoffed, “Seriously? So why save me then?”

“Look…” You took a deep breath, hiding your fidgeting fingers in your palm as best as you could. “We were both supposed to die. At least my character was mentioned in the story, but you? Y-You weren’t even mentioned at all…! You were just a nameless faceless soldier, someone not even worth mentioning––”

Offended, he snapped back, “Faceless? Rude much!”

You quickly shushed him, internally freaking out at the prospect that you may have been overheard. But when nothing else and no one else stirred, you frowned and muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really nervous… I guess what I’m trying to get at here is… why don’t we both help each other survive?”

“What?” Shaking his head in disbelief. First this person called him someone not even worth mentioning then they ask for his help? Seriously, what was with them?

“T-Think about it…! I’m the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom…! I know what will happen! Kinda…”

“Well, I do want to live just as badly as you do…” It appeared he was still on the fence. Leaning his weight against the wall, he demanded, “But what do you mean you kinda know what will happen? I thought you, for sure, know.”

“Um…” Twiddling your fingers, you hesitantly explained the dilemma, “I did mention we were both supposed to die… And while that part isn’t a lie and the whole you being the destined one to stop Ellis was a lie, the other thing I didn’t lie about was Ellis gathering with his allies to infiltrate the palace and acquire the sword to kill the Jabberwocky. That will actually happen. S-So, since I told everyone that––”

“Let me guess, you told it early?”

Freezing, you gazed up at him and murmured, “H-How did you…?”

He shrugged, “I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. That means a higher chance of survival, right? Assuming that the blonde is the good guy and our King Rosehearts is the bad guy of the story. And considering all that, now you have no idea how the story will be affected, right?”

“R-Right…” Wait, now it just looked like you were useless! Immediately interjecting, you added, “But I can still make predictions based on what I know, like how things were originally supposed to play out…!”

“And you are still technically a royal…” Ace placed a finger to his chin, probably thinking about possible outcomes, upsides, and downsides if he agreed to work together. Finally, when his gaze flittered back to you and you stood upright, he questioned, “What if things don’t go how we–– you plan?”

You actually considered this briefly. If everything came crumbling down and all plans failed, there was but one last option to avoid any punishment. “Find Ellis and the White Queen… or is it the White King? I-It doesn’t matter…! The point is, the White Royal is very kind and merciful. If I go to them and explain that I am not really the Red King’s consort, then they’ll spare me…! If you come too and bring the sword to slay the Jabberwocky, that will assure them of our good intentions!”

“Isn’t that just running away? I don’t want to do that. And come on, the Whites? Are you for real? I thought us Reds were bad, but those pristine prissy little killjoys are no fun.”

For a second you wanted to strangle him. What kind of idiot would risk certain death by staying here if everything goes south, instead of fleeing to a good place that would grant you sanctuary? “It’s exactly running away, that’s the point…! The point is to stay alive!”

The redhead tilted his head to the side, his disappointed and serious behavior disappearing as he grinned. “What if I became king?”

Now it was your turn to look at him as if he were the insane one. Was this knight actually the mad hatter that had been driven insane by mercury poisoning?

“I do owe you one for saving my neck back there. And I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed about being king one day. And you, you’re actually way more ruthless than you seem at first. I thought you were a scared little wimp that always cowers behind their little hubby husband.” He mocked. Ouch. He thought you were a wimp…? “But turns out, I was so wrong about you. Sounds like you’re willing to do whatever it takes to live another day. Even turn on your own husband!”

He was whisper yelling, and it was starting to make you anxious that someone would overhear. So you whisper yelled back at a lower volume, “S-Stop that…! You know the truth, he’s not really my husband…”

That smirk made you think that he was going to respond in a louder voice, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Just stupid enough to plan to overthrow the bloody Red King and talk about it in his own palace. But maybe you were stupid too, for talking about such delicate matters in the palace halls. Ace took your hands and performed a mock bow. “No running away, you got it? I’ll take that tiny red punk’s crown and become king, then I’ll keep you as a royal beside me, it’s the least I can do after what you did. We’ll both not only survive, but thrive. What do you say, Your Majesty~?”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

When only a few days passed, you couldn’t get the thought of what Ace proposed out of your head. Death to Rosehearts, and long live Trappola. That was what he wanted. It was an idea, an option to consider should Riddle eventually become hostile towards you again. The proposal left to marinate in your mind as you spent the next day idling in the garden, doing nothing in particular. Since Ace was now your guard, you didn’t want Riddle to become paranoid or anyone to start spreading false rumors. So you’d spend your time in the garden, in public, where you could be seen so no lies were ever fabricated. The Red King was quite busy and so concentrated on the efforts to find Ellis, while his attendants kept close by.

You were chatting with Ace as he stood beside you while you sat by roses and sipped tea, listening as he spoke about himself and the latest rumors. Sometimes you replied, divulging bits of your own life when none of the gardeners or landscapers were close by. He was actually pretty laid-back and cheeky for a knight that served the Red King. Right as you were in the middle of telling him about your experience of being a prisoner, you zipped your mouth shut when a soldier appeared some distance away from the tall hedges.

It was a soldier with armor much like Ace’s, but Trappola’s was red and this one approaching was blue. Not to mention Ace never wore a helmet, but this blue one did wear his. Once the helmeted head turned towards you, he swiftly marched forward and stood straight in front of you. He bowed his head before kneeling in front of you and removing his helmet, revealing a young man, about Ace’s height, but with short blue hair and cyan colored eyes. He then announced himself, “Your Majesty, I am Deuce Spade! I was recommended to this position as your personal guard by sir Cater Diamond. It’s an honor to serve you! Here is my recommendation letter. I hope you’ll see me as suitable for this role.” Outstretching his hand without lifting his head yet, you unsurely accepted the rolled up scroll.

“O-Oh, um, thank you. I’m sure you’ll be fine… Stand up if you’d like, I don’t think the ground is comfortable.” Out of the corner of your eye as you unraveled the scroll, you could see Deuce obediently nod and stand as he held his helmet in his arm. Before you began reading, you could even see Ace frowning at this newcomer.

The scroll was much less like a recommendation letter and more like a haphazardly written medieval text message. It read: Hey, Your Majesty! Hope you like this newbie I sent over. He’s a littleee dumb but his heart’s in the right place and he’s surprisingly tough for a fresh recruit! Trust me, I saw him myself when he took on two older knights and won. You will be perfectly fine with this guy! He is literally perfect for a bodyguard. I’m kinda jealous. Anyways, meet me tomorrow night at the bridge between the palace’s northern towers! Come alone. –– From, Cater Diamond, always at your service!

That was strange… Come alone…? Not wanting there to be any evidence that you were meeting another man alone, that would definitely piss off Riddle, you tore the scroll to shreds and turned your attention to the blue knight who became the target of Ace’s pestering. They seemed quite familiar with each other, as Ace continued to poke at this Deuce guy while the blue knight attempted to remain calm and composed but was quite obviously growing annoyed.

“You? You’re the new knight? The guy who stupidly thought one of the nobles was an intruder and nearly attacked them on the spot? Ha! C’mon, I mean, we’re supposed to be the same rank, but even I’ve never made a mistake that bad!” Ace scoffed, grinning a much crueler smile, appearing more content with every passing second he noticed his companion was beginning to lose their cool. “You’re lucky to even be alive! King Riddle could’ve had your head for that, and he should’ve.” Deuce opened his mouth, likely about to snap back in reply, but Ace only cut him off. “Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t be so rash in front of Their Majesty, if I were you.”

“Ah––” Recalling where he was at and your presence was just feet in front of him, he resumed his uptight stance while averting his eyes to the ground respectfully, but he was still irked with the fellow soldier beside him.

“Ace, quit bothering him, will you?” You requested, sending the redhead a pleading glance to which he, surprisingly, listened to. “Will you go find Trey? He has something very important, and I need you to deliver it to me.”

The red knight sighed and took a step back, not bothering to argue or continue his efforts to make the blue knight explode with anger. However, he did hesitate at your request, but after a second he finally relented, “Whatever you say, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.” Nodding, you watched Ace leave the small area of the garden before then turning your attention back to the matter at hand. The new knight. Poor guy, he looked a little nervous. “You can relax, it’s alright. I promise, I am certainly more nervous than you currently are. Can you, um… maybe tell me a bit about yourself?”

“Uh…” Deuce appeared at a loss for words, not expecting the sudden interview. Finally thinking up a response, he did the opposite of relaxing. He only appeared more tense as he stood rigidly and loudly declared, “I am a soldier part of the first platoon!! I began training after being recruited a few months ago, and I was raised by my mother!” That last part was unexpected, and the volume of his announcement made you jump in your seat. Maybe he didn’t entirely know what to say when you asked him about himself. “I am honored to be chosen as one of your personal guards! I will do everything in my power to protect you!!”

Ah… still too loud. You winced at this shouting introduction before nodding in understanding. Your reply was like a quiet squeak of a dorm mouse compared to his tone. “T-Thank you, Deuce, but you really don’t have to be so stiff… I assure you, I’m not like my… my husband.” God, that felt so weird to say. “I’m not exactly the type to take off heads, as you can tell, haha…”

Your awkward smile managed to finally get him to relax. His shoulders sagged down as he sighed, and he smiled. It was an odd smile, not an ugly or strange one, but genuine and somewhat kind, it was unexpected and placed you on edge.

Why was he looking at you like that…? It wasn’t like how Riddle would often stare at you with fondness, but rather, this one could be described as something akin to… admiration. “Is something wrong…?”

He bowed his head, giving an awkward chuckle but his smile remained. “Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare, but you’ve changed. A lot.”

“Changed…?” Your nerves were spiking. Did Deuce somehow know the king before? You gripped the armrest of your lawn chair, wondering if you would need an escape.

The blue knight seemed to sense your distress, because he quickly waved his hands and explained in a small panic, “W-Wait! It sounds weird when I say it like that. Uh–– you probably don’t remember me. But we met a few years ago during a parade in town that was thrown to celebrate your engagement to His Majesty, and during that parade I was racing some friends and nearly crashed my horse into the royal carriage! The King was furious and my mother was there too, apologizing for my stupid mistake, when he cut her off and declared that me AND my mom were gonna be sent to the guillotine as punishment! They took us to the palace, and I remember you quietly watching the whole time. But before they could drag us by the chains to the dungeon, you appeared and secretly pardoned us! Do you remember now?” His cyan eyes were sparkling with excitement as he pointed to his head of hair and added, “My hair was bleached back then!”

“O-Ohhhh, of course…!” Not of course. You didn’t remember a thing! That wasn’t you, that was the true king! Those weren’t your memories! But you could only continue to awkwardly smile as he let out a sigh of relief and a bright beaming smile took over his expression.

By now, all his previous tension was gone. He was in a much different mood, delighted as he continued to explain with such boundless energy, “I was really a mess back then. But that day changed my whole life! I was so scared for my mom, I thought she was going to die because of me. When you pardoned us and we went home, I decided to change. That’s when I decided I wanted to pay you back for saving our lives, and I wanted to help make ends meet. And the best way to do that was join the King’s army. I know it’s tough work, but I knew I’d get funds to send back home and I might get a chance to properly thank you! I’ve waited for this day to see you again for so long!”

“Is… Is that right…?”

Noticing your apprehensiveness, Deuce frowned lightly and changed the subject. “No one has seen you outside the palace in ages. Everyone is worried! People are starting to say you’re being kept inside because of, well… every Red citizen knows you’re the favorite royal. So when you stopped appearing in public…”

Wait, just a moment. The king was beloved? Actually, that wasn’t too hard to believe when the only competition alive was the hot-tempered queen. It might not even be too far-fetched to believe that the king once spared people often behind the back of their spouse. At least based on Deuce’s story, because why else would the former king have any reason to spare the lives of what were, back then, simple rabble, if not due to the kindness in his heart?

The blue knight continued with another short story, “On your weekly outings, my mom and I used to try and wave at you from the crowd. But we never got noticed. And they never let us close either…”

They must’ve been truly grateful to the king, now you, and it only makes sense after what happened.

“Oh–– sorry, I just keep going about myself! That other guy is taking a little long…” Turning his gaze over to the exit between two hedges, exactly where the red knight had gone, he muttered, “Seriously, what’s taking him so long? Isn’t he supposed to be your guard? Don’t worry, Your Majesty, I’ll bring him back for you!”

“Ah, wait––” Too late. He was gone. Complaining about Ace leaving and then leaving himself? It was clear that Cater was right, Deuce wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed but he had spirit. At the very least, you felt safe with him around. Due to the obligation he felt toward the king, he would no doubt be a great help. In the quiet of the garden, you sipped your tea and listened to the buzz of bees traveling from rose to rose, flowers which gave off a pleasant aroma in the slow breeze. It was relaxing, peaceful for a moment, not like every other waking hour as you fear your true identity will be discovered or even last night you lay awake in bed fearing the moment your spouse would come to bed, yet he was so busy that he never did, so you lay awake with major anxiety practically all night.

“Your Majesty, forgive me for the intrusion.” The sudden voice startled you, shattering your tranquility, but you quickly regained your composure upon realizing it was just a servant from the kitchen. One arm was neatly folded behind their back, and the other held up a tray of delicious pastries. “I’ve brought you extra, should you desire any.”

“Ah… haha…” Your sigh turned to a nervous laugh as you managed to stammer out a polite, “T-Thank you.” When they bowed their head and began to make their leave to the pathway behind your seat, you turned your attention back to the fresh baked goods just waiting to be devoured. Plucking up one of the smaller delicacies to take a bite––

“Your Majesty!!!”

CLACK!

Dropping the pastry, you whipped your head around only to be met face-to-face with the sharp end of a dagger. The only thing stopping that knife from plunging into your flesh, was the equally sharp end of a spade-shaped spear that had crossed with it and deflected it. The servant was the culprit, having replaced the tray of desserts for a weapon meant for slaughtering. And they nearly had killed you, had it not been for the blue knight.

Horrified, you fell out of your chair, back, away from the two. Your terror only grew when with one swift motion, Deuce used his spear to slash the face of the attacker. They fell back, you didn’t know if the servant was alive or dead, if they weren’t dead they certainly would be soon. But you did see red. Red, red, red, why was red everywhere in this world? You had nearly died, again. Your heart felt like it was racing as you saw the red knight reappear and tackle your attacker, the struggle hidden behind the lawn chair and table cloth. There was shouting, you think, but the banging of your heart against your rib cage was too deafening.

All you could make out was the presence that had rushed to your side. They stuck close by but never quite touched you, their hands ghosting over your side. There was red. Red on his hands, red on his blue armor, a small dash of red against his cheek. You were growing lightheaded, your head hurt. You must’ve peered up a bit, because you could see Deuce looking frantic and as your vision became spotty, you saw his mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a word he spoke.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

When you awoke, it was a bit of a rude awakening. You could hear shouting, behind a door. As you slowly sat up, feeling the familiar softness of the king-sized bed belonging to the Red King himself, you practically melted into the silk sheets. The shouting was muffled behind the heavy double doors, but you could easily distinguish the voice as belonging to Riddle. And just as you could tell who it was, you could clearly make out what he was saying. The thickness of the door was not enough to quiet his tone, even from here.

“I want the executioner here now!!! The crime of attempted regicide against my consort is unforgivable!! It is the highest form of treason!! Make it a public execution in precisely one hour! I want all those that dare to even think about harming my companion to understand what fate will await them should they dream to even attempt it! Question that blasted assassin, and I want to know who sent them so that I may punish them in a matter even worse than a beheading!!!”

Wow, he sounded pissed. It was kinda scary. Even though you couldn’t see him, you just picture his face twisted into pure rage, no doubt he was about ready to pop a blood vessel. As you began to recall what happened, you shuddered, both because of recalling the fear you felt at the moment and how you imagined what pains the assassin would face at Riddle’s hands.

Clink!

Flinching, you fearfully looked to the side, half expecting another assassin to appear out of nowhere and take revenge on you for their fallen compatriot. However, much to your relief, or not, it was only the King’s familiar subordinate, Trey. He readjusted his glasses over the bridge of his nose, giving you a gentle smile as he finished placing down a glass of water by your bedside. “It’s alright, there’s no need to look so frightened. You’re safe now. Everything is being dealt with, as you can, uh, probably tell.”

Right, you could still hear the commotion of Riddle’s bellowing commands along with the various rushed footsteps of servants and soldiers running about to fulfill their given tasks. It sounded like things were really getting hectic.

Lowering himself onto a wooden seat placed at your bedside, his yellow eyes flitted over to you, peering at you through the glass. “Normally I would let you rest and I would take on the responsibilities from here on out, but I have to tell you…”

You gripped the glass cup, feeling that oh-so-familiar anxiety creep up your neck. Trey had to tell you what…? Was something wrong? Did the assassin hurt Ace or Deuce? Were they okay? Did it have something to do with Ellis or the White Royal? Did Ellis successfully infiltrate the palace and steal the legendary sword? Has the Jabberwocky been slayed while you were unconscious? Or worse, had Riddle discovered you were really a big fat liar this entire time? Oh god–– what sort of unspeakable torture would he inflict upon you for this? Just yesterday at dinner, you saw him declare that a very young servant of the kitchen staff was to be beheaded because they stole a single tart! You didn’t want to die––

“It’s good news actually, so you don’t have to look so pale.” You resisted the urge to sigh–– wait, Trey was surprisingly observant. Or maybe you were still failing to better conceal your reactions and emotions, because he could tell you were obviously distraught. “Based on the intel you’ve given His Majesty, soldiers were able to capture a hatter, twins, a white rabbit beastman, and… a purple cat beastman. All working with Ellis, and loyal to the White Kingdom. There isn’t any sign of Ellis though.”

No Ellis yet… The fact that the protagonist was out there somewhere and still had a small chance to succeed, slimmed by the fact that his allies were now imprisoned, but still a chance, made you uneasy. This place was really starting to drive you mad… You’d have to readjust your escape plan and make a backup if it came to it…

“Your Majesty, now that I have the opportunity to talk with you in private, I’d like to ask you something.”

Tapping your fingers against the half-filled glass, you nodded for him to continue. “Okay… I’m listening.” The news was already said, so that placed you at ease. Slowly you raised the glass to your lips, taking a sip of the cold water that parched your dry throat. You didn’t realize you were absolutely parched until right now.

“Earlier, I said normally I wouldn’t tell you the news because I know you don’t do well under stress. But this time was different. This time, you initiated the action. So, I just wanted to know, who are you?”

You froze, nearly choking on the water you forced down. “W-What…?”

Folding his hands together, he stayed on his seat, but again, those eyes of his just watched you. That gentle smile he wore often, was no longer present. He looked serious, which made you even more tense! He spoke calmly, quietly, but that did nothing for your spiking nerves. “Their Majesty that I know, wouldn’t save Riddle even if they had the power to do it. They were waiting for a chance to run away to the White Kingdom, because they had fallen in love with someone else. And the more I look at you, the more I’m realizing that you aren’t them.”

Shit, shit, shit–– you seriously underestimated him. Of course he’s one of the king’s right hand men for a reason! Your hands were shaking uncontrollably. So much so that you dropped the glass, the cup rolling onto the sheets and drenching the blanket as you pleaded, “P-Please, don’t tell Riddle…! You’re right, I-I’m not His Majesty’s consort, but I can explain…! Just, please, please, I’m begging you, don’t tell him the truth! I… I’ll tell you everything you need to know! Please, I don’t want to go like this…!”

“H-Hey, hey, I wasn’t going to tell him!” Caught off guard, he picked a box of tissues from the nightstand and moved it in front of you. He spoke softly, gentler this time, “You’re not them, but you really do act like them sometimes… Here, use these tissues to wipe your tears. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Tears…? Reaching up to your face, you gasped when you felt your cheeks damp and droplets dripping down from your eyes. You were crying, and you hadn’t even noticed it. Fear had been the cause of these waterworks. As you rubbed your eyes to clear your vision, once you removed your hands, you saw Trey extending a tissue to you as his hand rested on the small of your back. “I… I’m sorry, I overreacted…”

“No, I should’ve approached you more carefully.”

Dabbing away your tears with the tissue, you sniffled, still finding it hard to meet his concerned gaze, so you averted your eyes down to the wet sheets and now empty glass in your lap. Where do you even begin?

Appearing to sense your hesitance and fear, his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he assured, “Take your time. I’d like to know everything, but go slowly if you need to.”

Despite knowing you didn’t belong, he still treated you so carefully. Maybe it was foolish to believe the right-hand man of the bloody Red King, but this was the kindest anyone had been to you since before your banishment. Ever since you were arrested, everyone had eyed you with suspicion, it felt like that continued into this world as most people were stepping on thin ice around you, and even you would be on your toes around certain people like King Rosehearts and his subordinates. But this time, it felt like you were truly being heard, even if it was a trap, something which you didn’t want to believe. So you told him everything about your story, but not this story. Afterall, you still needed leverage so that they wouldn’t kill you.

There was something about Trey that made him easier to talk to, easier than the red knight Ace you’ve trusted with your secrets, and easier than Deuce who had just saved your life. Trey listened attentively, never interrupting you, never looking away, keeping a hand over yours. Occasionally he nodded or hummed, providing reassurance that he was still listening to you recount your tale. Once you were done, and only then, did he speak.

The king’s right-hand man let out a sharp exhale as he rubbed his head, still attempting to process all the details. You were still trying to process everything that was going on.

“Everything makes sense now… but, I never thought you were bad. When you came out of that room with Riddle, when he was supposed to kill you, I thought something was off but I couldn’t put my finger on it. But when you stood up as His Majesty was questioning the soldier, that’s when I realized you weren’t the same royal from before. And then I understood that you weren’t a person with bad intentions. If you do really hold knowledge on our future, you could’ve usurped power for yourself and gotten rid of the King. But you didn’t.”

He smiled at you, not a malicious or cruel one, but a soft kind that placated a bit of your jumpy nerves.

“I owe Riddle a lot, so all I ask is that you tell him the truth soon and make him happy. Because you do make him happy. I’ve never seen him smile so much as he does when he thinks of you, even when you aren’t around. Of course, you don’t see it. You’ve made him much happier than his previous consort ever could.”

Frankly, you were at a loss for words. Yes, your original plan was to get Riddle Roseheart his victory and remain on his good side, but you didn’t think you’d actually get this far! Now at the prospect of having to permanently stay playing the role of his spouse, even if you survived telling him the truth, well… now you weren’t sure what to do. Not to mention, you did feel a little guilty because while Trey caught you, he didn’t entirely understand that you were only doing this to survive. It wasn’t for him, it wasn’t for the kingdom, it wasn’t for Riddle, it was for yourself. “And you… you really aren’t mad…?”

“Well… I do feel a little betrayed. But now, I think I’m starting to understand you and what you’ve been doing. So I’m not hurt. I’ll just continue with my job, serving His Majesty and serving you.” Removing his hand from yours, he stood up and picked up the glass you had dropped onto the sheets now damp with water. “Come on, let me get these sheets changed for you.”

For a while, it was just you and Trey, talking quietly about things like yourself, and he even revealed details about himself and his life to put you at ease. Trey was truly a comforting figure, and it became evident by more than just his words, it was obvious by his actions as well. Servants brought sweetened goods and various drinks, some of which he claimed to make with his own two hands. How a busy subordinate of the king even had time to bake, you have no idea. Not too long after, presumably after he sent out soldiers, servants, and put the executioner to work, Riddle Rosehearts entered the room, making a show to throw the doors open as he commanded sternly,

“Leave us, Trey.”

When the king’s gaze traveled over to you, you froze on the small chair you were currently seated in. At that moment, you just wanted to shrink in on yourself, all the little confidence you had built on the foundation of Trey’s presence, crumbled the instant he obediently nodded his head and hesitantly left the room. You felt frozen in fear as soon as the king appeared in your line of vision, but all you could see was heeled shoes against the tiled floors, since you kept your gaze down. That’s when the questions that spurred your anxiety came to fruition. Had he somehow heard the conversation between you and Trey? Did he know too about your true identity? Had he realized it? Was he growing bored of you or becoming jealous once again? How would you get out of this one––?

“My dear, I apologize for not being able to see you sooner. There were matters that needed to be dealt with.” His hand went to your chin, and he forced you to look up at him, carefully though, as he used his fingers to prop up your head. What consoled you, pacifying your fears, was the look in his eyes. Those eyes were filled with sorrow and possibly… dread? “Are you alright? Do you need anything? Anything at all?”

“N-No, I’m alright––” You were just more alarmed and concerned as to why he was acting this way.

Using his other hand, he took your palm, quietly inspecting you for injury. It seemed something was on his mind, because his eyebrows furrowed together and he scowled, seething quietly, “I can’t believe the moment we are getting along, just when I’m receiving your love, that foolish assassin tried to take you away from me.” His hold on your hand tightened. “How dare they? How dare they?! Do they not understand that all I want is to be loved, and when I finally have it with you, they try to–– Forget it. They will become an example of what happens to those who dare attempt to harm you.” Looking down at you, his gaze softened as he spoke in a much gentler loving tone, “My dear, the public execution of the criminal will be in a few moments. Would you like to go and spectate from above?”

“Umm… n-no, thank you.” There was no way you wanted to watch someone be beheaded. Especially knowing that they were there because of you, even if they had attempted to kill you. You didn’t need the very vivid image of their head dropping and rolling on the ground, with their lifeless eyes still open, to haunt your dreams at night.

“Very well.” Taking a seat beside you, he sat upright and proper as he continued to hold your hand. “And your knights? Shall we have them beheaded as well for failing to apprehend the suspect quickly and for being so idiotic as to leave you alone?”

“W-What? No!” Ace and Deuce, beheaded for failing to protect you? You turned to the king, pleading, “Please… my darling, don’t punish them. Afterall, they saved me in the end, so please… I… I commanded them to go! I did…! I had sent them to retrieve the sword and a duplicate I had Trey commission the royal blacksmith to make. That way, s-should Ellis and his allies manage to retrieve the sword, they might get the useless duplicate instead…! S-So you see, it’s really all my fault.”

For a while Riddle was silent and you feared that he would place you on the ballot of today’s executions. But then the unexpected happened. Slowly, he reached forward, awkwardly wrapping his arms around your figure and resting his head over your shoulder. His voice was quiet, hushed, “Taking all these steps to ensure my victory and continuous rein… you have truly changed.” Tightening his hold, he pressed himself against you, forgetting all the formalities and etiquette that a king should have. His warm breath fanned your ear as he whispered a promise, “For you, I will not stop until our rule is absolute. I will control the whole realm, and shape it into a wonderland that you desire.”

When he pressed a soft kiss against your cheek, you felt your face heat up. You sat rigidly, arms awkwardly wrapped around his waist as he moved himself to sit upon your lap as if it were his very own throne. As he leaned closer, you noticed his cheeks were pink, quickly turning red, as he leaned his forehead against yours so you could look each other in the eye.

In your childhood you read about Alice’s adventures in Wonderland with the odd Tweedle twins that spoke much like in riddles, the mischievous yet mysterious grinning Cheshire cat, the wondrous Mad Hatter who was insane, and an abundance of others in the colorful cast of characters. Yet no matter how often you read the tales, it always told of a cruel hot-tempered Queen with no heart. And yet, here was Riddle, in the role of the Red Queen, flustered yet affectionate as he continued to sit on your lap and wrap his arms around your neck.

Those big gray eyes continued to gaze at you, never looking away, which caused you to immediately avert your gaze. That is until he tapped your chin lightly, chiding,

“Don’t look away, darling. I demand your attention.”

“A-As you say, my dear…” Slowly you focused your gaze back on him, by now you were sweating bullets. How did you end up this close to the bloody Red King? It seemed like he was starved of love, he craved it so desperately and wanted it all for himself, that he nearly killed you the moment you first met him, out of pure envy. Just as he was leaning in to place a second kiss, this time on the lips, you inquired in the tiniest squeak, “Is it not better to be feared than loved…?”

Riddle stopped just an inch away, processing your words as he eyed your nervous expression. “I wasn’t certain anymore, but now I am.” He lingered in place, taking the time to explain his answer, “By the masses, it is far better to be feared than loved. They can be unruly, rebellious, disorderly. Yet it is fear that never fails, it tames and controls those that are even insusceptible by love.” A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers played with the small locks of hair behind your neck. He shifted closer, “But when it comes to you, I must change my approach. Love is the most favorable option, because I want your true love. Not a forced type of affection. Do you understand, my dear?”

You gulped, growing more abashed with every passing moment as Riddle remained so close. “Y-Yes, I understand…”

“Just as you proved to me that you desire my affection, I shall prove to you that I truly love you.”

That night you fell asleep in Riddle’s arms, laying on the plush king size mattress you two were supposed to share every night. Your face was red, both from embarrassment and partly due to the bit of lipstick he wore now marking the spots on your face where he had kissed you. At first it was nearly impossible to sleep, you stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, as the bloody Red King peacefully slept beside you with his arms around you. It was only until exhaustion finally knocked you out, forcing you to close your eyes and rest a few hours. Only then as you drifted off to sleep while gazing at Roseheart’s content sleeping face, did you realize how much of a mess this plot has become.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

In the morning, you groggily awoke to Riddle, already changed and prepared for the day, leaning over to adjust the blankets around you and wish you a good day before his leave. Not too long later, once you got up and prepared for the day, as soon as you opened your doors, you were greeted by two particularly distraught knights, Ace and Deuce. The sudden quiet you had was immediately shattered as the two began speaking, almost shouting, rapidly as if babbling, you couldn’t understand a word they were saying due to how fast they were talking and how they spoke over each other. How long had they been waiting outside your door? Just barely you could distinguish the occasional apology, mixed in with exclamations and bickering against one another over who the fault lay on.

This was going to be a long day… and a long day it was. As you were escorted to breakfast by your two protective knights, you passed by a window where outside you could see a courtyard. Your eyes wandered to the scene behind the glass, and down below you could see a balcony where your spouse was seated, overlooking the courtyard below where a crowd gathered. In the center, your heart dropped when you saw the executioner standing over a heavy basket where a colorful hat poked out of, beside a pair of white rabbit ears, and brown rabbit ears. There was red seeping out of the basket, and the sight immediately caused you to turn your head away. The mad hatter, white rabbit, and march hare, had all been executed. But there were no cat ears, so the cheshire cat must’ve been spared. You lost your appetite for breakfast.

In the middle of the day, after giving Ace and Deuce the swords, you left it up to them to see if they could tell the difference between the two blades. Which was the real artifact of legends and which was the duplicate? They couldn’t figure it out. You then accompanied Trey to the kitchen as he was commanded by the king to make something delicious for dessert. Turns out, Trey was only usually commanded to drop his usual responsibilities and bake when the king was in a good mood. You didn’t know what was worse, was Riddle in a good mood because of the smooch you hesitantly gave him last night or was it because he had put his enemies to death?

For dinner, you ate beside Riddle, unnerved as he watched you with contentment the entire time. Throughout the dinner, you managed to distract him from staring by carefully sharing bits of information that could provide useful. To defend himself from the might of the Jabberwocky, Ellis would need the legendary armor currently in the White Kingdom. The Bandersnatch, another powerful creature under Roseheart’s command, can be tamed by Ellis and convinced to change sides. Ellis may very well retreat to the White Kingdom for help. All of which he noted down carefully.

And finally, later that evening, before Riddle could arrive for bed, you snuck past your two dutiful knights that were changing shifts with other soldiers that would stand guard beside your room. You had a bit of time, as they rotated often, and when they rotated to patrol the halls and come back, was the opportune time to sneak right back in. Through everything that happened and how hectic it became, you had nearly forgotten that Cater extended an invitation to meet you in private.

It had only been a few days, but by how often Ace, Deuce, and Trey led you through the palace, you were beginning to get a rough understanding of the layout and vague memory of the routes. So it didn’t take you very long to reach the northern towers near where the monstrous Jubjub Bird, what you learned was Riddle’s giant pet bird of prey, resided at the highest point. It really was no wonder Rosehearts had such an iron grip on the kingdom, with beasts like the Jubjub Bird, Bandersnatch, and Jabberwocky at his command, no one would be so foolish as to question him.

Thankfully, Riddle had offhandedly mentioned that the Jubjub bird spent most nights in its cage, and was only freed during the day to bring back rebels to the gallows. So you weren’t too fearful of seeing the giant bird of prey at the windows. What did make your heart stop, was when a hand covered your mouth, and you were suddenly pulled into a room. You kicked wildly, your screams muffled against their mouth––

“Wait, wait, calm down, it’s just me! It’s me! Look! It’s your Cay!”

The rapid pace of your rising and falling chest slowed and you stopped screaming as your eyes readjusted to the dim lighting of the room. In front of you, just inches away from your face, you could make out familiar downturned green eyes and orange hair. When you finally went quiet, he removed his hand away from your mouth.

“You’ve always been super jumpy, Your Majesty, but not like that! Didn’t you recognize me?” He pouted, whining, “I’m a little hurt. I thought I was your favorite!”

“W-Why on earth would I––!” You stopped, realizing his hair was down.

It wasn’t tied up like before, and he wasn’t wearing all the intricacies of his outfit which you saw him in prior. In fact, he was very very casually dressed, and that was putting it lightly. All he wore were his dress pants and the last layer that was the dress shirt that had only the lowest buttons together, so as he leaned closer his shirt moved as well, exposing his torso. Keep it together! You weren’t like some Victorian maiden who fainted at the mere sight of an exposed ankle! By the dim candlelight you could piece together that you were in a spare bedroom, and the dots began to connect in your head.

Cater tilted his head, his longer orange locks shifting with his movement as he murmured quietly, “What’s wrong, Your Majesty? Are you not in the mood tonight? I know you’ve been reallyyy busy lately, with so much going on and all. But… I just really wanted to see you.” Too close, he was leaning too close! “I have to admit, I’m a little jealous of all the time you’re spending with His Majesty.”

Wait. The loose layers he had on, the dim candlelight, the bed, the suspicious hour of meeting, Cater’s sweet talking–– oh my god. The former consort in your position really had cheated on the Red Royal, and they did it with Cater! It made your cheeks burn, but wait–– that wasn’t you! You had nothing to be ashamed of! But things would look really bad if you were caught like this with one of the king’s closest subordinates!

“I-I’m afraid you’ve gotten it wrong––” Was it a good idea to tell him the truth? Afterall, his equal Trey knew, and you would be telling Riddle sooner rather than later, as you didn’t want the lie to fester into something ugly, thus lessening your already slim chances of survival by admitting the truth to the king. How did the former king even get with one of the queen’s subordinates? “You… You see, I’m not––”

“Really the royal consort?” He finished your sentence, giving a sort of cheeky smile at your dumbfounded expression. Straightening his posture, he hummed, “Yeah, I know, it’s pretty obvious you know! And that face you’re making right now, is so cute. It totally confirms it.”

It was obvious? Your stomach dropped at the potential prospect that Riddle already knew. But wait, if he really knew, then why hadn’t he said anything–– or were you getting too hopeful that he wouldn’t want to slaughter you as soon as the truth reaches him? It was probably safest to assume that he didn’t know at the moment. Now, as for Cater, you nervously eyed him, grimacing as he gave you a playful wink. “If you know I’m not them, why would you t-try to initiate…” You gestured to him and the bedroom. “––this?”

“Just testing you, that's all. Had to make sure I was right, after all. I didn’t really plan to do anything, unless you wanted to risk it.” As you immediately shook your head, he laughed and proceeded to button up his dress shirt and shrug on a coat. “I’m kidding! Joking. There’s no real reason to get all embarrassed. I just wanted to mess with you a teensy bit.”

Averting your gaze down as he readjusted his attire, you muttered quietly, “Did you and the person before me really…?”

“Hmm…” He paused, as if considering whether he should answer or not. Finally, he shrugged, “I mean, since you are kinda them in a way, I should probably tell you? As long as you promise not to tell His Majesty Riddle about all this, I promise not to tell about your dirty little secret, you know, being an imposter and all! Oh, that, and your little chit-chatwith Ace.”

Your blood ran cold. Cater had heard that? Even the part where Ace plotted to take the throne for himself? The part about you running away? Pursing your lips, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of your head. If that got out, it would be game over. Your life would truly end, and all Cater had to do was whisper in His Majesty’s ear. But you now had dirt on him too. The fact that he knowingly slept with the bloody Red King’s consort, and kept it secret. It felt like with these secrets, you were both holding a knife to each other’s neck, figuratively speaking. “Something tells me you really did…”

“I did. But it was a one night-stand. They were a scaredy-cat, even more than you. They said they needed someone else’s comfort beside the exact person they feared the most in the world, which is why they came to me.” That easygoing smile appeared back on his face. “But you know, I wasn’t lying when I said you were cute. It’s just a real shame you’re already Riddle’s, or else I would’ve definitely snatched you up for myself!” Taking a seat at the desk, he propped his head up with both hands and continued, “Sooo, are you going to tell me who you really are? You will, won’t you? Let’s get to know each other a little bit longer before you go, ‘kay~?”

With not much of a choice left, you sighed and recounted your story once more. You told him why you ended up here in the first place, what was supposed to happen to you, how you managed to survive, and how you knew what was supposed to happen. He listened, only occasionally chiding in with a witty remark or comment.

Only once you finished your story, he whistled and spoke, “Everything makes sense! You’ve really been through the wringer, huh? Riddle must be so hard on you! But I’m not.” Then he brightened up, as if remembering something, “Oh! And Riddle won’t be getting any rest tonight, so you can stay with me as long as you want tonight!”

Perplexed by his words, you furrowed your eyebrows and gazed up at the cheery subordinate. You were kinda afraid to even ask what he meant by that. “What… What do you mean…?”

“I mean that His Majesty is gonna be way too anxious to go to sleep anytime soon! Ah–– right, you don’t know.”

Don’t know what? It felt like he was teasing you with this information you didn’t have. You would’ve said it made you nervous, but on the contrary, it puts you a bit at ease knowing that Riddle won’t stumble to bed only to find it empty and go mad. But still, you didn’t like the way Cater was messing with you. It didn’t feel like he meant any ill will, but not knowing what would happen and not having control placed you on edge. A single finger of his tapped your head as he answered,

“Ellis’ beheading–– Oh, but not yet! Using your intel, Riddle managed to pinpoint the location of a forest where that little blonde must be hiding in, also partially thanks to the Jubjub Bird’s latest catch who was a rebel that cracked like a nut when the king questioned him! And this evening after dinner, he sent out multiple soldiers to go hunt Ellis down! It’s really only a matter of time before they drag Ellis back in shackles. You see, Riddle’s just waiting impatiently for news back. So that’s why!”

In the distance, outside, you heard a trumpet. On impulse, you raced to the window, followed by the curious Cater, as you both stuck your faces against the cold glass to get a peek at the ground below where the noise had come from. At the towering palace gates, you could make out the small moving figures of soldiers crossing the river of blood and heads. They held up their sharpened spears and blades, torches of fire to light the way, and… in the midst of it all was a tall young man with blonde hair and a coat of baby blue, locked and restrained in shackles, dragged forward along the path.

“I… I have to go––”

Astonished at the speed you took off in making a direct beeline for the door, he blinked and exclaimed, “Wait! You’re not even gonna let me walk you back?”

No, there were far more important things on your mind. Without wanting to waste a single second, you rushed back, silently skittering and speed walking through the halls as quiet as a mouse. You avoided all the guards on patrol as you weaved from hallway to hallway, taking multiple twists and turns that were as confusing as the hedge maze in the king’s beloved garden. It seemed like an eternity before you finally snuck back into your room, where you were relieved to see the room empty. No angry king awaiting your return.

So you jumped into bed, nestling yourself into the make-believe safety the comfortable sheets provided you. As if these blankets could protect you from everything in the world, much like how your mind liked to believe the warmth protected you from the boogey-man lurking in the shadows. It was a childish thought, but a persistent one that refused to leave your mind. The seconds you counted not with the tick-tock of the clock, but the thump-thump of your beating heart that filled your ears as you lay silent and still. Thump, thump, thump, your heart beat, as your mind wandered to imagine whatever horrible fate would shortly greet Ellis, if it hadn’t already. A life in exchange for a life, the innocent blue boy in exchange for you who had done wrong before. Yes, it was wrong. So so wrong, and it ate at you inside, but you didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to.

And it scared you, knowing you’d have to tell Riddle the truth soon. Very soon. If he found out by his subordinates telling him the truth, you may very well be right behind the blonde boy waiting your turn at the guillotine. If you told him, he could very well decide to kill you anyways. Even if he had proclaimed his obsessive bloody love for you, would that matter? Riddle believes he loves the royal consort, a role you’ve been playing. It wasn’t truly you. Nothing would stop him from yelling, off with their head! Right then and there.

Well, there was one way to save your head if things got ugly… Ace was still in your corner, and if you could possibly convince Deuce to join you, you’d have both knights, one of which had the real sword of legends. If they could just slay the Jabberwocky, that would be enough for the White Kingdom to interfere. The only thing preventing Riddle Roseheart’s fall, was that damned Jabberwocky––

THUMP!

“My dear!!!”

The door slammed open, followed by a screech in that familiar voice you’ve been dreading. You froze, resisting the urge to scream and beg for forgiveness. Your heart dropped, and you just wanted to perish in your cocoon of cloth and fabrics. By now it felt like your heart had grown louder, pounding in your ears so loud that when you hesitantly lowered the sheet down over your face so you could see. What you saw made your heart stop, it felt like your soul left your body when you saw Riddle leaning over you with a huge battle ax in hand.

The ax could easily sever a whole appendage, even a head, in one fell swoop. It was recently sharpened, its metallic material and the red rubies encrusted into the weapon both glimmered in the light. It was a huge weapon, but despite its size, Riddle appeared to carry it with ease. Finally, when he dropped the weapon beside you and practically flung all his weight on you, did you snap out of your fear-induced trance.

“We did it…! We found Ellis, and it’s all thanks to you!” By now he was on top of you, normally he would’ve realized quickly and scrambled to get off while composing himself. But at the moment, he was far too eager for that. Instead, he grabbed your head with both hands on your cheeks, and on his face was the loveliest smile. The prettiest smile that was so large it reached his rosy cheeks, and joy was evident in those big eyes. “We have that wretched boy in the dungeons right now!”

“T-That’s great…!” Nervously you glanced down at the ax, “And that…?”

Waving it off, he replied without so much of a second thought, “Oh, it’s not for you. It’s for Ellis. I’ll be beheading him myself, no guillotine or executioner needed.”

Not for you… Carefully you inhaled shakily, feeling your hands begin to tremble. If there was a time to tell Rosehearts, it would be now when he’s at his happiest and most merciful. Yet, telling the truth did nothing to help you back home. So why would it help you here? You were so scared, so nervous–– if Riddle reacts explosively, he could just grab that ax and end you here or he could use his arms wrapped around your neck to suffocate you. There were so many countless ways this could end, and you could only think about the negative outcomes. Slowly you reached for his hands over your face, removing them so they were in between the two of you. His confusion did not go unnoticed. “M-My… No… Riddle, I have something to tell you…”

You took notice of the way his eyebrow raised, and his smile shifted to a sort of concerned frown. Oh, how you dreaded that it may soon become the ugliest scowl known to man.

“I-I’m… I’m……” Why was it hard to say? You couldn’t force out the words. Slowly shaking your head, you began to regret coming this far. Why couldn’t you have just run with your knights when you had the chance a few minutes ago? “… not–– not who you think I am…”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you anticipated something. A slap, a punch, the pain from the ax being brought down upon you for your sins–– something terrible! Not gentle hands patting down your head. “Is that all?” He giggled, to which you hesitantly opened your eyes, petrified at his expression of adoration. Placing a finger at your chin, he tilted your head up as he hummed, yet there was a bit of a dark look in his eyes as he spoke.

“Did you believe I wouldn’t notice that my own spouse was replaced? My former partner wouldn’t lift a finger to protect me, yet you did. So, upon my realization, I thought to myself: perhaps I should spare them and see how else they serve me. And serve you did. In ways that were incomprehensible, your short time here surpassed all efforts ever made to hunt down our dear Ellis. It took some prying out of my subordinates you’ve charmed to learn what secrets you’ve uncovered to them. But, I believe I have the whole picture painted.”

Using his thumbs, he rubbed your cheek and his fingers massaged your temple.

“A criminal from another word, sent here in exile to receive a gruesome death as their punishment. Yet they survive, because they recognize that this world is much like a story from their youth. So they trick, lie, and act, all to save their life, even risking the demise of others just for their own salvation. And in the process, not only win the hearts of some cards, but also the heart of the land’s monarch. Do I have that right?”

When his gaze became focused on you and he leaned closer, you nodded, feeling the pace of your rising and falling chest begin to increase rapidly. In response, Riddle placed a hand over your chest, where your heart would be, and continued in a quiet tone,

“Don’t panic. I’m not angry. In fact, I’m very glad this happened. In exchange for your servitude towards my cause, I’ll reward you with forgiveness, but beyond that, I’ve taken a liking to you. So, from now on, you will remain as my royal consort! And, as promised, I will shape this world into whatever your heart desires.”

Removing himself from you, he brushed himself off and stood upright at the bedside, offering you a hand to take as his other hand reached for the heavy ax which he carried over his shoulder. The bloody Red King smiled, oh-so-delighted.

“Shall we go now? I understand it’s late, but tonight is a special occasion. This night marks the death of Ellis which we will witness together, and the proper beginning of our relationship. Tomorrow, with no one left to protect the White Kingdom, I’ll send my pets to conquer. Then, the only ruler of this land will be me and you, and we’ll govern the land splendidly. Don’t you agree, my King of Hearts?”

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chocsra · 5 months ago

Text

✧ "THE SCORCHING BLAZE OF APPLE MIST"

☆ synopsis ↺: you, a rich and affluent descendant of the gojo clan, attend a luxurious school reunion after a year of attending jujutsu high. unable to take the constant pressure of your former classmates, you call up a friend to appease the tough audience.

☆ content ↺: fluff, fake dating, rich people stuff, female reader, megumi x reader, based off queen of tears ep 2

☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: mabagal — by daniel padilla & moira dela torre

☆ w/c ↺: 4.8k

in jujutsu society, long bloodlines of talented sorcerers create influential and tight-knit clans; clans contribute to the financial support of jujutsu tech, and influence jujutsu to outside organizations and public figures. in this world, there are 3 strongest sorcerer clans:

first, was the kamo clan—a bloodline known for its conservative and traditional beliefs. Like the ultra-rich, they practised old traditions to preserve their sacred bloodline. the people of this clan decide to live in a reserved manner, as the population is predominantly composed of the older generation.

second, was the zenin clan—a bloodline of toxicity, control and archaic values. if you didn't meet your family's standards as a sorcerer and person, you were shunned out by your blood, left to fend for yourself. their sorcery is potent, but their values are strict and unruly.

third, the gojo clan—your very own blood, cursed energy, and soul. they are the descendants of michizane sugawara, renowned as one of japan's big three vengeful spirits. predominantly, the gojo clan is highly respected for its bloodline's sheer talent. but, upon private family gatherings, you knew that the current strength of the clan was only held by the current head of the family. the one with the six eyes; the limitless technique—your relative, gojo satoru, was the gojo clan's invincible ace card. he made the decisions, the desire, the drive; gojo satoru is allowed to do whatever he pleases—because he is gojo satoru.

however, perhaps that was enough of your nonsensical inner dialogue, it was time to face the truth:

you stood beneath the polished white staircase, an entrance to a pair of huge, wooden double doors. for a descendant of a wealthy clan such as yourself, even if you were a little nervous at the raw size of this mansion. smoke enveloped the nooks and crannies of the luxurious establishment, and only the finest woods and architecture were crafted and delicately constructed here. to you, a school for the rich wasn't a place of friendships and recreation, it was simply a place to make connections.

which is why you attended a middle school reunion party, hosted by one of your former classmates, whose family is in the top 1% of japan's sustained wealth. as you stand before the mansion in front of you, you bite nervously onto a manicured nail. you were in high school now, not the high school that all your former classmates attended—which was one of the most prestigious academies in japan. but you attended a highly religious private institution with no more than 10 students, also known as jujutsu high.

yes, jujutsu high is an education recognized as the foundation of jujutsu society. but civilians, especially wealthy civilians, don't have the knowledge or mental capacity to understand the innate prestige that jujutsu high has in store for its students. to your middle school classmates, you disappeared into the outskirts of tokyo to become a monk.

you walk past the open double doors, inhaling and exhaling sharply to yourself. 'this is just another rich gathering holding moody teenagers, nothing new.' though immediately, you were met with the pungent smell of expensive fragrances lingering in the air and the accommodation of partying students in lavish dresses and suits.

you pause, intaking the crowd density of your environment, until you hear an excited yell: "[name] came! I just saw her enter!" suddenly, a rush of familiar high-schoolers surrounded you with surprised gasps and some noticeably hostile glares, "gojo [name]! you came out of hiding!" a teenager screams, earning a polite chuckle from you in return.

a few minutes pass, and you were already getting doted on by your girlfriends: "oh my god, you look stunning, I could kiss ya right now." your old friends take turns twirling you around, wrapping their arms around yours and your shoulders to show you around the place, "c'mere, bitch! I have to tell ya about takeda's dad's stock market scandal!" one of your friends yells, the excitement in her tone suspiciously slurred—you wonder what kind of drinks they served in this party.

once settled in, you linger around the establishment by yourself. looking at the people around you; the drinks served, the bright lighting of chandeliers, and the freshly waxed marble flooring.

you did notice one thing, though, sighing in disappointment, almost everybody was paired into neat assortments of young couples. you understood that relationships in youth, especially high school, have very slim longevity. but, it did sting you a bit; a feeling of subtle loneliness subsiding over you. even your friends had boyfriends—some good-looking, some not, but all well-off.

you twirl the base of your mocktail between delicate fingers, processing your observation bitterly. until, the soft sound of heels clicking behind you captures your attention, "ah, gojo," a feminine voice calls out to you. dressed in a raven cocktail dress, her presence reeked of chanel.

your former academic rival and classmate, yukina tominaga; a bitch dressed in prada.

you decide to leave the past behind you, politely smiling: "how are you, yukina?" you casually ask, no bite in your tone. you were here to make allies, not enemies, you thought, inhaling softly. the girl twirls a strand of her raven hair around her finger, smiling eagerly, "i'm good, my dad just opened up another mall in yokohama." she boasts, earning a nod from you. "i've heard. it's really popular right now, congratulations."

an awkward silence precedent in the massive party hall, the loud and giggly chatter in the background subsiding.

her amber gaze meets yours for a second, fleeting with a sense of animosity mixed with a hint of surprise, "thank you." yukina's lips curve into a smile, "you're attending jujutsu high, right? congratulations." you tilt your head slightly in confusion, a compliment from your peers about your source of education? that was entirely new to you. "hm? well, thank you." you reply, sipping your fruity drink carefully. "yeah, my dad won't shut up about how 'it's the backbone of society or something." she rolls her eyes teasingly.

"i like your dress, by the way." the girl adds, watching as you glance down at the cutting-edge navy blue party dress. it wasn't anything similar to a gown or tight skim dress—just fitting for the occasion, yet classy and expensive. it felt too bland in your honest opinion, the silk loops of your sleeves exposing the expanse of your shoulders and collarbone. "thank you, again." you smile, nodding graciously.

yukina adjusts the sleeves of her black cocktail dress, scoffing slightly in bemusement as she stops sipping her drink, turning to you. "no boyfriend yet?" she asks, quirking a mischievous brow, "no," you reply instantaneously, shaking your head. the girl almost smiles brightly, giggling softly. "really? not even a date over here?" you take another look around the expanse of couples doused in high-quality fabrics and drinks. "well, i'm not sure, i have to catch up with friends, after all."

"pfft," yukina stops twirling her hair, snickering softly, causing you to quirk a brow. "[name], do you not see that everyone here has a partner? this place is known for being one of the best ball-dancing establishments." you take a glance at your drink, pondering your life choices for a second, before looking off to the side: "i see, must be exciting for someone like you." you reply, earning a mocking gasp from the raven-head.

"tsk, i mean, did you even get asked out?" she questions, a cocky smirk present on her face. "by some, i refused, though." you sip into your drink again, running a few nervous fingers through the silk of your hair. "wow, that's surprising." yukina snickers, "knowing your personality, i wonder how you even had suitors that lasted more than one conversation."

the air gets tenser in the room once the grumble of words even threatens to escape past her lips, you glare expectantly at the shorter girl.

you scoff dryly, "excuse me?"

raising a brow, you grip the glass of your drink a little tighter, steadying yourself. "listen, you want some advice?" she asks, a bite of superiority and confidence in her tone. you tilt your chin curiously, "well, if you want to give it so bad.. go ahead."

yukina inhales sharply in annoyance for a second, before pursing her glossed lips into a smirk, "well, my boyfriend and i have always had this thing where we face the same direction on everything. i've never had one argument with him, yet… you argue with men all the time even if you're not dating. how interesting," she chuckles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her decorated ear, taking another sip from her glass. "your point?" you question, crossing your arms. "all i'm saying is, you should be more pleasant to men, that's what they like, anyway." yukina snickers, brushing some dust off your shoulder teasingly, pulling an audacious scoff from your throat. "maybe then, you can get a boyfriend," she slyly walks past you, bumping the shoulder she just brushed.

you stare at her walking off, knitting your eyebrows in suppressed anger, your glabella forming a line between them. the girl then turns around once more, a humourless laugh in her tone: "or at least a date, since you couldn't get that either."

you scowl, snapping back a reply instantly, "that's becau—" yukina completely ignores you, instead running off to her boyfriend, cutting you off: "babe!" she giggles, disappearing into the crowd of chattering and partying.

this night couldn't get any worse, you thought.

you stood in one of the crystal white bathroom stalls, looking into the contacts of your phone:

"no.." you mutter, teeth pinching into the gold of your necklace. "itadori's too normal." brushing over his contact, your shoes clack against the waxed flooring. "inumaki would show up in a t-shirt and sweats," you mumble, scoffing momentarily as you brush over your upperclassman's contact.

"damn it.. who is tall, handsome and at least seemingly rich?.." you think to yourself, tapping a finger on your chin, before coming to a brilliant revelation. you press onto the contact of one of your classmates, pushing the phone to your ear. the line dials; one.. two.. the other line connects with a beep: "hello?"

you clear your throat nervously, whispering into the speaker of your phone, "fushiguro, do you like dior or tom ford?"

he didn't get you.

not yesterday, not tomorrow, and not today.

megumi sat in his dorm, fiddling with a recent non-fiction book he picked up at the library—scoffing abruptly to himself as you suddenly hung up the call. carding nimble fingers through spiky dark blue locks, the teenager sighs, dialling your number again.

"what is she on about.." he mutters as the line beeps patiently, waiting for you to pick up.

beep.

his eyes widen as the line picks up, "the number you called isn't available right now. please leave a voicemail at the bee—" end.

megumi sighs, grumbling to himself as you decline his call, before receiving a sudden message, a message of the address to the party you were currently attending, and a polite "can you please be there?" text present on his screen.

the boy was silently contemplating; pretending to be your boyfriend at some rich party? It's odd coming from his classmate nearing the end of the school year. on one hand, there was a deal—3 free dior sauvage perfume bottles at his doorstep, or really, any deal of choice that you could achieve for him.

but, he thought, megumi would have to spend some time getting ready, picking the correct suit for the occasion and a piece that would get him complimented by you at the door, and play the part by calling you his girlfriend: buying you drinks, holding your waist, and possibly dancing with you?—no, he couldn't do that.

although, out of the only gojo's he knew, you were the more competent one. megumi dearly respected you, as a friend, classmate and jujutsu sorcerer. the teenager often believed gojo satoru needed to take notes from you regarding efficiency, scoffing as the white-haired man would quirk a brow whenever megumi would talk about you is much better than gojo satoru—the six eyed greek god, or so he claimed.

megumi didn't want to let you down, the secret affection he felt towards you melting away in the back ropes of his heart. but then again, he would have a big role to play. being somebody's boyfriend, it took plenty of work. he heard the potency of relationship dilemmas from nobara, who kept up with celebrity scandals and drama. megumi thought about it, he didn't want to do it, he simply wasn't going to. even the thought of being lovey-dovey with you itself made the teenager's stomach churn in distaste. the teen shook his head, knowing he already had dior sauvage, he could get another bottle right now if he wanted to.

—megumi thought, buttoning up his fanciest white button-up as he searched for fine-clad suits to wear tonight.

"this is stupid, i'm being framed," he muttered to himself, closing his closet door begrudgingly.

was it begrudgingly, fushiguro?

his blurred vision outlined the bright lights of the establishment, loud music and the rich smell of attendees laughing and singing. megumi was surrounded by party-goers as soon as he walked through the double doors, clutching the raven of his cashmere blazer, stuffing a hand into his pocket.

"who is that?" a girly voice asked, earning curious glances from other people. "why's his hair so spiky?" soft giggles from the right whisper feverishly, though not so quietly: "that's what you're worried about?" another girl voices, smirking to the crowd, "why is he so handsome?"

"pfft—" the group of people surrounding the tall teen choked back a laugh, until a gruff voice spoke out playfully, "i mean, i get it, and i'm a dude, so.."

"ew!"

"get help, ryu."

"i'm just saying!"

megumi ignored the chatter in front of him, azure eyes only gazing at one thing; the very reason the rest of his vision was blurred.

you.

you—wearing a silk navy blue dress, an enchanting dip and curve to your shoulders, down your neck, and your natural hair clasped into a half-risen bun. you—who glossed lips parted in surprise, eyes sparkling gently under the chandelier's lighting. you—who currently stood next to another guy.

was it begrudgingly, fushiguro? he couldn't help but stare. the sudden realization that he was supposed to be your boyfriend at this exact moment kicking into his noggin. megumi had to act like it, he had to accommodate you, he had to like you. this feeling, made his knees feel like jelly, oceany eyes darting to the marble ground, megumi gasped softly as his knees buckled unexpectedly, clutching the nearest table beside him.

"oh my god, is he gonna die!? who even is that?" voices scramble in the back, watching as the teenager fumbles around in the front foyer.

"[y/n]," megumi wrinkles his flushed nose, the embarrassment of losing his balance over quite literally nothing in front of the wealthy crowd sinking in. "sorry i'm late."

everyone at the foyer turned to gawk at you and back to the boy, repeating this process an obscene amount of times. "gojo, is he your?.."

you froze in place, fingers nervously tangling in the strands of your hair, "—he's my date!" shuffling your drink onto the counter before you, your eyes widening by the second, "sorr.."

about to apologize, your gaze darts to fushiguro, brows immediately furrowing at the sight before you: he was a complete nervous wreck. a hand tightly clutching a countertop, the other one clasping over his mouth, a faint pink tinting his cheeks and ears. even his dark hair looked sad, the spikes drooping down ever so slightly. you fiddle with your fingers while a strange feeling reels in the pit of your stomach.

"sorry.. for the commotion." you choke out.

awkward gazes and unbothered shrugs filled the room before everyone left to do their thing. they made some comments about his refined looks, his weird stomach problems—assuming he just had IBS or digestive issues, and how you, of course, got lucky. coming to an anticlimactic revelation, you scratch the back of your neck sheepishly: maybe fushiguro megumi wasn't as competent as you thought.

patting a handkerchief against the boy's temple, collecting the dampening sweat near his hairline, your gaze softens, "you can stop covering your mouth, you've been frozen for how long?" your eyes stare at the teen for a few moments, narrowing in mock-disbelief as fushiguro remains silent. his slim hand still covering the lower half of his face, a prominent adam's apple bobs in the smooth expanse of his throat. fushiguro swallows thickly as he adjusts the white collar of his suit, "i.. didn't get to brush my teeth before i arrived."

what a liar. you thought.

"your ears aren't invisible, y'know, you don't have to lie." crossed your arms over your chest, curving your lips into a small smile. the teen flushes and bites his tongue at the old memory of gojo convincing him that his ears turn pink when he lies—in which megumi knew was also a lie as he grew older. but he couldn't help but purse his lips and cover his ears quickly in the spur of the moment.

you scoff mockingly at this little action. however, a hint of subtle endearment lingered in your gaze: "hey, what's gotten into you tonight?" fushiguro grumbled softly, removing his hands from his reddened ears, "nothing."

you quirk a brow, eyes drowning in mirth.

"no seriously, it's nothing." he assures, fingers prodding at the soft spikes in his hair, "your favour—it just makes me uneasy." you nod in soft agreement, "yeah, i understand." pausing for a brief moment, before waving delicate hands in defence, "but, it's not that hard. just stay near me and give people rude stares, like you always do."

megumi glares at you from the side in offence, an airy giggle threatening to pull from your chest.

"fine," he mutters reluctantly, before his lithe fingers suddenly find home in the silk of your hair, causing you to grumble. "you're ruining my hair, do you wanna die?" you sneer, earning a light chuckle from the taller boy. "shut up and let me rudely stare at the guy that's been looking at you."

your stunned eyes widen as your lips part ever so slightly; the sight of you alone sends the familiar, wobbly feeling in megumi's knees to buckle.. again. "i've noticed him for a while," the teen mutters, gazing down at you affectionately, "you attract weird men." he scolds. biting your inner cheek nervously, you begrudgingly let megumi stroke and ruffle your hair for quite some time. gazes darting to your old classmate, whose disappointment washed over his face as he stared at you two.

but was it begrudgingly, [name]? you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn.

you had never felt his hand before this close.

yes, there were times you've high-fived, times where he brushed a hand against your shoulder, but that was in battle. you knew the precautions of sorcery, so many of your classmates have already touched you. this, however, felt different. perhaps it was because megumi was always so stuck up—the only time you could admire the faint smile painted on his snowy lips was when yuji and nobara weren't looking. softly smiling as the two walked away snickering about something stupid, as per usual. you noticed it; you always did, because his smile was like the sun shining on snow. when the purity of soft white snow captures the gaze of a hint of light, bright and fuzzy. that's the closest thing you could pinpoint to his smile, even if it was so fleeting. perhaps it was his slim hand tangled in the locks of your hair and the same smile he held only for himself planted on his lips was why you felt different.

you questioned why he was acting so different in the first place—it made you wonder what kind of drinks they served at this party.

squinting your eyes softly, your gentle gaze follows from the lining of his white button-up to his cashmere suit pockets, to his sculpted jawline, then to the expanse of ivory skin; smooth and delightful. your eyes would follow rosy cheeks, to finally the shining sea of his eyes; one that was already looking into yours.

one—you swore time stopped for a second, your heart dropping in your chest. could there be cockroaches in your stomach? you could've sworn there was a better insect to represent this feeling.

two—have his eyes always been this gentle? must they be so glassy? Even his long eyelashes were gorgeous; not saying he was, of course.

three—those lips of his in which you dearly admired the smile of. you remembered it was only his smile, not his lips itself. you liked the hue, the shape, the colour. gosh, if only you could get a lip gloss in that shade, it would be a designer product. your gaze mindlessly returns to his eyes,

…

you both snap your heads away, his hand immediately jolting back into his pocket. pink coating the pads of your cheeks.

even you felt a little disappointed, but couldn't understand why.

yukina tominaga—the very reason you invited fushiguro to this party in the first place.

perhaps you should thank her because the night has been going smoothly; no, more than smoothly. megumi didn't talk to anyone else, didn't make a fool of himself other than his strange stomach problems upon first his entrance, and reeked of wealth. no seriously, how could he act so posh? The teen held his chin high, refusing to look at any other woman in the room, and only spoke to the more sophisticated teenagers at the party; he simply looked straight out of a conglomerate family.

and you quite enjoyed smirking at the raven-head, cocking a brow at her while making eye contact. her response only gripped the sleeve of her boyfriend's tuxedo, who was a taller man with a bowl cut and constantly had his mouth stuffed with food.

"here you go," — a waiter from behind the marble counter draws a glass towards her, she swallows thickly before taking the glass. you walk over to the girl, elbows planted beside her, "i'll have a mocktail, please." you smile at the waiter as he nods and draws you another glass. pausing to look at yukina, she nervously tangles her fingers at the chain of her diamond necklace. a furrow in her brows, and narrowed look in her gaze. "what was it you said?" you question suddenly, twirling the glass in between nimble fingers, "that you and your boyfriend like to face the same direction on things?" she merely scoffs in response, head facing the other direction. "well, i didn't understand what you meant until i saw him myself." you chuckle softly, an obvious bite crawling in your tone. the girl grits her teeth, snapping her head to glare at you, "what was that?"

you snicker, "It's just that, with my boyfriend, i prefer it when we face each other." yukina scoffs, fingers slipping away from her drink, glaring as you tap a mocking finger on your chin. "so i can look at his face, y'know?" cooing, you grab the base of your mocktail before smiling, "but i'm sure you know nothing about that." you sneer, walking away from the girl.

she tilts her chin towards the ceiling in disbelief, teeth grinding at her inner cheek. that bitch, she thought, adjusting the top of her satin dress. until a sudden voice calls out, excited and smiley, "baby!" yukina's boyfriend greets, chocolate plastered all over his cheeks. the girl tries to smile back, her gaze betraying her of her annoyance, "babe! what happened?.."

"i.. there's so much free food!" her boyfriend giggles, stuffing another piece of chocolate cake into his mouth, "i love it! i mean, i love you—" the girl bites her lip in irritation, finally snapping, "shut up and wipe your mouth, will you?!"

…

how comical.

"it's finally over," you sigh in relief, feet stumbling on the concrete ground. you were currently outside of the rich establishment, tired and relieved that the party ended. the boy put his hands in his pockets, scoffing softly, "you owe me one." he bites, though a hint of affection lurking in his tone. your brows raise in delight, elements of your phone call coming back into your memory, "oh right," you pause, finger tapping at your cheek. "you said you didn't want perfume in return, what do you want?"

megumi bit his inner cheek in a silent wince, gaze darting to the ground, "well, i think.." he whispers, before returning his eyes to yours, "i want you to use my first name, call me megumi." your gaze softened, jaw slacking slightly in surprise, "eh?" you question, "that simple?" the boy sighs with hesitance, "it's because i don't wanna call you gojo, i wanna call you [y/n]." he mutters, fingers wiping at his nose nervously. "ah, so you don't get confused with gojo, correct?" you smile, "i understand."

megumi pursed his lips into a hidden pout, you don't, how could you be this dense? he thought. "okay, I'll get going then. bye, megumi." you wave at the teen, your other hand pulling out your phone to call your driver.

until, a lithe hand wraps around your wrist softly, pushing your phone back into your purse. "don't." he whispers, his words demanding, but his innovation ever so pleading. "we practically live next to each other, why don't we just walk home together?" your lips part in a soft gasp, about to speak, until a sudden blush betrays your cheeks, "what?.. are you sure? i can just call my driver for both of u—"

suddenly, a blazer drapes over your head, not around the curves of your shoulders, but covering your entire head. "fushiguro?" you call out in confusion, until a gruffer voice responds, "it's megumi for you, and you can't be this stupid, right? it's not a far walk." he tuts, a certain sass within his tone, but you couldn't gouge his face for a reaction, so you fix the blazer on you around your shoulders. "i'm even giving you warmth while i walk in the cold." you scoff in amusement, "you're so dramatic. it'll still be too cold, let's drive." the boy rolls his eyes, muttering, "i'll get you ice cream."

you scorn with arrogance, "hey, y'know i'm rich, right? i can buy my damn ice cream—"

you find yourself licking an ice cream cone in the early hours of the morning, walking on the street next to your dear classmate, megumi fushiguro. his raven blazer draped over your shoulders, hand stuffed in his pockets as he watched you shuffle in heels, licking at his cone. "you didn't have to do this, you did enough by coming." you chuckle, staring softly at the melting ice cream.

the boy stares at you under the soft everglow of the moonlight, blue bangs falling over his face. he watches you in this view, catching a faint smile painting his lips, glad that you won't be cold wearing his jacket. megumi turned back to his cone, brows raising in surprise at the melting dessert, how long was he staring for?

the teen grumbles, licking the dripping ice cream from the soft cone, "it's the least i can do," he pouts gently, ears reddening as you giggle, "i should at least walk you home." you gaze into his eyes softly, softening up, "your future girlfriend is so lucky." complimenting casually, your lips curve into a smile as you shuffle awkwardly from the structure of the heels.

megumi huffs, "oh so now, you're the future? the gojo's seem to be everywhere now."

you and your stupid hair, he thought. fushiguro megumi swore he hated everyone, that he was done with everybody's bullshit, and that he didn't want to focus on anything else but school. so why did he blurt that out? that to him, he wanted you as his future. the teen watched plenty of romance movies with his friends, who gouged very different emotional reactions compared to his scoffs and eye rolls. so, why does the thought of you with another person rub him the wrong way?.. could there be cockroaches in his stomach? no, there must be a better insect to represent this forsaken feeling.

it wasn't only that, he yearned for more opportunities to see you wearing his clothing, to be the reason he smiled, the reason he'd walk home every night. it was really strange, and megumi didn't believe that this was a curse's doing. even when a rush of blood and nervousness wracked his brain, flourishing into a sweet colour of pink.

"hah, hah?" you tilt your head in everlasting confusion, "i'm what?.." the boy's eyes shoot up, the blush travels from his ears to his face. "what?!" he huffs,

you repeat after him, both cheeks flushed crazily, "what?!"

megumi stammers, "uuh, the ice cream's melting." he points, both of your desserts dripping onto the floor, "right, right! should hurry," you stutter out.

✧ chocsra™

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