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specsthesecond · 5 months ago

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🃏👑🃏

You were married off to the king as a young noble woman. The arrangement was rather rushed in your opinion, not that anyone asked for it. The king only needed a show queen, a quiet but present symbol for the kingdom and you suited well enough for that.

He didn’t need a wife for pleasure, he had plenty mistresses for that and he seemed to be in no rush for a successor. You suspected it was because he had no intent to hand over power to anyone else anytime soon. Although, that's just what you assumed, others never blamed him for it. You were always the target of the hushed whispers and silent accusations of infertility, unruliness or even infidelity when it came to the subject of an heir.

The people's gossip aside, it was an easy marriage. You didn’t have to share a bed with a man you didn’t love and you didn’t have to raise his children. Many more deserving women would kill for such a life, which only made you feel worse about the utter discontent you felt. It was the loneliness, mostly. Such a privileged life and yet not a single companion in the world to share it with.

The king and his advisers only speak to you when they need you to make an appearance as queen. Their orders always dripping with condescension and near mockery. They’ve made you smile and wave for hours, waltz until your feet blister and recite a holy text’s worth of pompous poetry, but this most recent ploy was particularly concerning.

You sit on your throne next to your husband, hands in your lap, staring at the colourful figure in front of you. The bells on his ridiculous hat jingle as he bows his head so low they almost touch the marble floor. Quiet chuckles emit from the nobility crowding the massive ballroom and the unease in your stomach only builds.

When the jester picks his head back up, you can’t help fiddling even more with your dress, just like your husband's advisers have scolded you not to. The jester silently stares with his sheet white face, big red grin painted across his mouth. You want to shrink under the jesters stare, the blue diamonds painted over his eyes make his gaze feel piercing.

The king grins when he catches your nervous gaze.

“Do you like your surprise, my love? I thought you could use some cheering up lately. As did my advisers.”

He chuckles, looking over at the old men in the corner of the room. They smile back, amusing in a joke you're not a part of.

You just nod your head as politely as possible. You don’t know what's happening, but whatever they have planned can’t be good.

The jester skips up to where you and the king sit. He gives an exaggerated curtsy to the king, earning a laugh from him and the various nobility.

The bells jingle as he springs back up and steps closer to you. He stretches his hand out, you stare at it and then back to your husband.

“The fool wants a dance, my dear. Give him a dance.”

You try to hide the apprehension on your face and reach for the jesters white glove-covered hand. He doesn’t squeeze or pull you up like you expected, instead he holds it gently, waiting for your next move. You rise from your throne and cast one more glance at your husband, who only offers a self-satisfied grin in return. This whole time all they've wanted from you is a perfect queen and now they want you to dance with a fool?

The jester walks you to the middle of the room, encircled by leering nobility. He places your hand on his waist before dramatically correcting the mistake and placing it on his shoulder instead, looking bashfully to the audience who snicker at the joke. He takes your other hand in his and gives you a little nod before the musicians starts playing and he guides you into step.

Now obviously you know very well how to dance, you enjoyed it quite a bit when you were little although, now it’s just become another part of your queenly duties. Did any of that even matter now? Now that it’s clear the king and his peers see you as just as much of a joke as the man you’re waltzing with.

Your deep thoughts are broken when said man unexpectedly twirls you in a dizzying circle. You flail slightly in your surprise but you’re brought back into his arms just as quickly to continue your steps. You fully focus on him now and you wonder what his features look like under that gaudy clown makeup. Even in the bright chandelier lights of the ball room, you can’t make out the colour of his irises. Earlier, you thought they were hazel but now it seems they're an impossibly dark brown.

The dark pools look as if they could swallow all the colour from his face and your own. Actually, has he blinked even once during this dance, or at all for that matter?

You’re not sure if it was your mistake or the jester’s but you step on his foot and he suddenly pulls away from you. He clutches his foot and jumps up and down in theatrical pain. The room bursts into laughter, bellows and cackles. These elite men and women delight in the humiliating performance you’re both putting on for them. It takes everything in you not to cave right there in the middle of it.

While the jeering continues, you try your best to steel yourself, replacing the need to cry with spiteful compliance. If they want a dance, they can have a dance.

You curtsy at the jester, offering an apology and hold your hand out to him. He looks around and then points to himself. You can’t help but smile and nod your head.

He takes your hand and when the music starts back up again, you step in time to the beautiful melody. You try and put your full attention on the jester, not anyone else in the large room, which proves to be quite easy as he is by far the most interesting person present. You can just make out the small smile under the red painted grin, his relaxed eyebrows under the bright blue diamonds, the crook of his pointy nose.

While moving in sync, you become almost lost in trying to map out his face under the make-up. You look for imperfections in the face paint but can’t seem to find a single smudge or brush streak, in fact the paint looks impressively even, like it’s a second skin.

It truly does feel like its only you two and the music, for the first time in a long time you feel wanted by someone else.

But when the king grows bored he demands new entertainment.

He motions for the musicians to stop their music and you’re brought back to reality. The jester bows for the crowd, he gestures to you and you offer a little curtsy before being escorted back to your throne. Form there, you watch the rest of the strange performers routine. He juggles an impressive amount of miscellaneous items, he folds himself into ridiculous positions, walks on his hands and generally makes a fool of himself for the crowd.

You watch in delight, though your husband doesn't seem as interested as he was before your little dance.

You think about the jester all the way back to your courters that night. You think about him as you slip on your night dress and slide into bed, and you think of him as you stare up at the ceiling for possibly hours. There is too much on your mind, the fun of watching the jesters performance has subsided and thoughts of what this means for your reputation and position in the court remain constant. A sigh leaves you as you lift yourself up and open the doors to your balcony.

You lean on the balcony ledge and stare out at the starry night sky, not even the strange jester can distract from the humiliation ritual you were just a part of. He could have been in on it for all you know and you're just naive enough to think he was being kind to you during the whole thing.

A shuffling sound from behind you makes you turn your head and it takes you just a split second to register the very colourful jester standing in the corner of your balcony.

The screech you let out is smothered by your own hand. You clutch the edge of the balcony, staring at the slender man who puts his hands up, waving apologies while moving his chest as if laughing, nothing comes out of his mouth. You clutch your heart, breathing quite heavily as you stare at him bewildered. You look around trying to discern where he could have come from, and how you only now hear his bells jingle as he waves his hands, still apologising.

He steps closer and stands tall in front of you, he’s much more imposing than you remember him being. He holds up one finger and then mimics a waltz. His head bows low and he holds his hand out for you to take. He’s asking for another dance but is there really much of a choice at all? Has this also been planned? If you say no, will he just leave? Do you want him to leave? The dance you shared was the most delightful time you've had in so, so long

You stare at him for a good while, he stays with his hand outstretched, bent over at a near 90 degree angle, not straining even a little. The longer you wait, the more uncomfortable you feel in his unwavering presence.

Against your better judgement, you reach out and touch his gloved hand. He curls his fingers around yours and stands upright. You let him bring your hand to his shoulder, place his hand on your waist and step closer. This time is different from the last time. Now it really does feel like his attention is only on you, not with the other guests, not with the performance. It should be frightening, but you find no malice in his eyes, no ridicule in his demeanor.

As he steps into motion, you begin a slow waltz in the small space of your balcony. It's slower than in the ballroom, it's more intimate. While you dance with this complete stranger, your thoughts run rampant, you second guess your judgement again and again. Maybe the kindness you sense from him is a ruse. Maybe he is here on behalf of the king, setting up another degrading show. He could even be an assassin, come to rid you quietly in the middle of the night.

You would deserve such a fate for giving in so easily. You slowly spin in his arms and this time you don't hear the snide laughs of the nobility, just the sounds of the night. Both of you step in time and you let him guide you to the edge of your balcony. You hold your breath as he dips you over the ledge. Your eyes squeeze shut and you let out what could be your last breath ready for him to let go and let you fall.

But he doesn't let go, your grip on his shoulders never slips. You open your eyes, a bit blurry from wetness but you can make out his face, because it's right in front of you even though you're bent over the balcony far enough that your feet have left the ground. You stare back at his unrelenting gaze. In the dim light of the moon his eyes look even darker than before and something new swims in the deep black of his pupils, something sad.

They are lidded as they examine your face, your entire being. His hand on your back presses your chest further into his until you're sure he can feel your rapid heartbeat through your very flesh.

He lifts you upright again, turning you away from the ledge and out of harms way. You’re still chest to chest, he’s so close but you can’t feel him breathe. Your wide eyes stare up at him, trying to discern his expression. Your breaths are short and your grip on him hasn’t let up a bit.

He brings his hands up to your cheeks, the warm fabric of his gloves on your cold cheeks has you easing into them far too easily. His eyes examine every inch of your face while his thumbs stroke your cheeks, you can just barely see the frown on his lips behind the painted smile. He brings your face closer to his, slow and methodical, making it very clear what his next move is. You’re not sure if this was due to his own hesitation or to give you time to pull away, regardless you let him inch closer and closer until his lips grazed yours and you finally feel him breathe out one long breath.

The kiss is deep. Despite being slow and gentle, it still forces a struggled breath from you. You would’ve thought he tasted like paint but he doesn’t, he’s warm and inviting. It’s nice.

Your eyes close, surrendering all hesitation to the stranger in your arms. Fingers dig into the fabric of his puffy striped sleeves as your body melts further into his. You quickly learn to breathe through your nose, out of necessity and unwillingness to part from his affections.

You let him work your mouth open, slipping his tongue inside. The feeling is so foreign, you can’t help but whine. The backs of his fingers flutter over your throat and you shiver.

His tongue fills your mouth, sliding along yours and savouring your taste. The wet muscle reaches far into your mouth, farther than you thought normal but your experience is slim and you don’t have the awareness to fully question it. It’s overwhelming. Your knees tremble and he lowers you both to the cold stone floor. His tongue reaches into your throat, a feat you know is impossible.

You’re too lost to even think of the implications of this, as you gag and convulse around the thick muscle in your throat that no longer feels like a normal tongue. He reaches so far, your eyes roll back, your lower region warms uncomfortably and you forget how to breathe. You tap his shoulders quickly, a plea for air, and he retreats from your throat. He holds you as you cough and heave, wiping the spit from your chin.

You look at him with the an expression full of shock and fear and bewilderment and every other emotion shooting through your fuzzy mind. His expression is hard to discern but he seems both amused and sad.

He stands and brings you up on shaky legs. When he starts to back away, you panic and clutch his hands tighter. You don’t know what you were hoping for. That he would stay? That he would spend the night with you?

His face is full of what you hope is longing and not pity, you know what pity looks like. He holds you close in what you know is a goodbye embrace. He presses his forehead to yours and he places one last short kiss on your lips. Its playfull and very much not what you’d consider a proper good bye kiss. You search his gaze and you’re met with rather boyish mirth, lifting your spirits slightly. Maybe this isn't goodbye then?

He winks at you and takes your hand, spinning you around once, twice and three times before he lets go. When you rebalance yourself and look around the balcony, there is no sight of the jester. It's just the pitying sounds of the night and your only other witness, the moon. Like he was never there at all.

#monster x reader #monster x human #monster fucker #monster lover #monster fucking #kinda rushed and bad but i needed to be done with this damn idea #Mysterious Eldritch (?) jester anyone?

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mingapace · 21 days ago

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Idea I had that I can't get out of my head so I'm sharing with you

Learning a small bit of gaelic to surprise Remmick with. Maybe even just learning the sentence "I love you" or something similarly romantic.

I think he'd cry

Oh shit, this is so cute.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ-ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ-ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ

𝘼/𝙣: 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙮 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧. 𝙊𝙗𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙡𝙮, 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙮, 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙚 𝙢𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣!

ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ: 1,5ᴋ

It was one of those lazy, golden afternoons where time slowed down, light spilled through the curtains in warm puddles, and the outside world seemed to politely stay away.

The two of you were camped out in the living room — blankets draped over your shoulders like cloaks of nobility, matching socks (black with drops of blood for you and black with sharp teeth for him) tangled up on the low table, and the lingering scent of buttery popcorn in the air. The muted hum of the dishwasher running while a forgotten movie played on the television, more background noise than entertainment by now.

Remmick complained a bit during the morning, bored while you worked on the computer. But now he was warm from the blanket, tousled from your fingers in his hair, and far too pleased with himself as he stretched like a spoiled cat across your lap.

You shifted under the weight draped across your lap, giving his head a half-hearted nudge with your knee. “Do you always turn into a Victorian fainting wife when you’re tired?”

Remmick cracked one eye open, the deep rust of his gaze catching the light. “I'd be more for ‘an oppressed poet on the way down.’ Far more tragic, like.”

“You’re crushing my legs,” you deadpanned, though your fingers hadn’t stopped tracing lazy circles at the base of his neck.

He let out an exaggerated sigh and buried his face against your stomach. “Ah, such cruelty. All I was after was a bit of comfort. A warm body. Possibly a cup o' blood and a peeled fig, if you'd be so kind.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“I’m a vampire,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your shirt. “We invented drama.”

You snorted, reaching for the mug beside you. “You also invented raiding my fridge. What happened to moderation?”

Remmick snorted softly against your shirt, his nose buried between the fabric and the heat of your skin. Then, in a slow, fluid motion, he lifted his head slightly from your thighs and looked up at you with that usual guilty, recidivist smirk of his. “I was peckish. There was a very lonely blood bag calling my name. Two, actually.”

“You left the fridge door open.”

He stretched against you — not away, but toward you, like a hungry creature searching for the perfect place to curl up.

His cold hand slipped behind your back with a dangerously natural ease, and with a firm yet gentle push, he eased you back against the cushions of the couch. Your head sank into the fabric, surprised, but you didn’t resist. Remmick took immediate advantage, crawling over you like a tender shadow.

“Figured you'd enjoy a bit o' suspense. Like—Did he feed? Did he not? To see if it even matters to ya.”

He settled on top of you, his weight pressing against your chest, his legs tangled with yours, his face now just inches from your own.

You blinked, your heart pounding in your chest at the sudden closeness. “You’re lucky you’re cute or I'd make you pay the bill.”

Remmick smirked and caressed your side with small, absentminded movements, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have every inch of his body glued to yours.

You rolled your eyes, but your hands still reached the back of his head to guide him against your neck.

He nestled closer again, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips like he’d found his exact place in the universe and it happened to be pressed right up against you. One hand wandered under the hem of your shirt, not in a lustful way — just searching for skin, for anchor.

“Ahh,” he sighed with a contented sigh as he settled against you, his lips brushing your collarbone. “That's much better now. That’s what was missin'.”

You smiled and let your fingers trail through his dark hair, scratching gently at his scalp the way he liked. He let out a soft, content sound that made your chest ache a little — the sound of someone abandoning everything they are to reshape themselves just for you.

Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, he began to hum.

An ancient melody, slippery as mist and as sorrowful as the end of summer. A symphony you had never heard before, with long, dreamlike notes — the kind that seem born to echo through an empty cathedral or across hills shrouded in fog. It wasn’t English. It wasn’t even something your mind could link to any specific time.

It felt older than time itself.

It wasn’t unusual for him to drop bits of Gaelic into conversation — always muttered low under his breath, like an old habit he couldn’t break. Sometimes it came when he was annoyed. Other times when he was relaxed like now, murmuring things into the fabric of your sweater that you didn’t understand but felt like poetry anyway.

You’d started writing them down when he wasn’t looking. Trying to guess what they meant. Then you looked them up. One phrase had appeared again and again — soft, reverent, almost like a prayer.

Tá grá agam duit.

And after doing some research, you discovered its meaning.

You weren’t fluent. You didn’t even know how to pronounce half the syllables properly but you’d been holding it, turning it over in your chest for days now, waiting for the right moment to say it.

And maybe… maybe this was it.

“Remmick?” you said, barely louder than the crackle of the tv.

You felt the faint twitch of his brow against your shoulder as he responded with a muffled “Mm?”

You hesitated.

He made a small, questioning sound again — not impatient, just curious.

Your heart beat once, hard.

And then, in a breath you barely trusted yourself to release: “Ta...grah agam...do-it”

The syllables stumbled out of your mouth like fledgling birds — unsure, trembling, but driven by something real.

Remmick didn’t move at first. Not truly.

But something in him tightened. His body went unnaturally still — not the kind of stillness that came from comfort, but the ancient kind. A predator’s stillness. A man remembering something he thought he’d long since buried.

He lifted his head slowly, with a kind of reverence, and looked at you — his eyes flicking up from your collarbone, tracking across your throat, until they locked with yours.

Those grey-colored eyes were wide, suddenly raw and alert.

You immediately panicked. “Did I—was that wrong? I tried to copy how you said it but—”

He stared for a second longer.

Then his mouth curled.

And he laughed.

A real, deep, belly laugh, bright and sharp and delighted, cracking across the still air like thunder. He tipped his head back against your shoulder, clutching at your waist as if the laughter physically overtook him.

You flushed hard. “Don’t laugh! I was trying to be romantic, you jerk!”

Remmick looked up at you, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. “Oh, sweetheart, that was pure lovely.”

You tried to pull away, squirming under him, face burning. “I knew I said it wrong—”

He caught your wrist, gently, grounding you. “No, no—wait, wait—darlin’, come here.” His voice was still thick with laughter, but something softer wove beneath it now — something tender.

“You said it,” he whispered. “In me own tongue.”

“I wanted to get it right,” you murmured, suddenly small. “You always say it. I just… wanted to say it back. In your language.”

Remmick’s smile flickered — not fading, just melting into something slower, more serious.

He leaned in, and kissed you — it was slow, and soft, and incredibly sweet — one hand cradling the back of your neck, the other pressing to your cheek. The kind of kiss that said thank you and I see you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“You learned that for me?” he asked, voice quieter now, touched with something almost reverent.

You nodded.

Remmick closed his eyes, like the weight of those words had settled somewhere deep in him.

“Haven't heard that in an age… Christ, maybe a century?” He chuckled, but it was thinner now, tinged with something broken and shattered. “Forgot what it meant to hear it again.”

You stroked your thumb over his jaw. “Then teach me how to say it right?”

His eyes snapped open, bright with mischief. “Only if ya say it again, the way you said it first. I want to hear it just like before.”

“Remmick—!”

“Please, darlin’? For me immortal amusement?”

You groaned dramatically but gave in. “Ta grah agam do-it,” you said, completely butchered.

He smirked again, brushing his knuckles down your cheek like you’d given him a priceless gift.

He sat up, eyes gleaming. Took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “It’s Tá grá agam duit.”

You repeated it — slower, more careful.

He corrected you once, then again, until the syllables began to sit more naturally on your tongue.

Finally, you said it and he just looked at you — quiet, eyes shining, and didn’t correct a thing.

“Perfect,” he whispered. “You sound like home. Plain and true.”

And just like that, your heart gave up pretending it had any defense left.

#jack o'connell #remmick #remmick x reader #sinners 2025 #sinners #ryan coogler #remmick x you #sweet remmick

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g00seg1raffe · 6 months ago

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Cursory research into the meanings of Mandalorian armour colours...

Black - ne'tra = justice, an unshakeable moral code (also wanting to avoid stains on your clothes)

White - cin vhetin = a fresh start or clean slate (good for converts/adult adoptions)

Grey - genet = mourning a loved one (or recently rejected)

Gold - ve'vut = vengeance (a warning colour)

Silver - shev'la beskar = unpainted armour, a search for redemption (Din Djarin's guilt complex, anyone?)

Bronze - tranyc'bes - nobility and high status (favoured by stuck-up self-important jackasses)

Brown - daryc - valour, galantry, The Audacity (particularly when associated with them cunty lil jedi cape drops)

Tan - vhekadla - loyalty (lit. 'sandy' but I don't like sand, it's coarse and rough and...)

Maroon - daryc'tal - power (all hail Maroon 5, our benevolent overlords)

Red - ge'tal = honouring a parent (very popular, 10/10)

Scarlet - galar'tal - defiance and relentlessness (Mandalorian Scarlett Johansson omfg be still my bi heart)

Orange - shereshoy = shereshoy, a lust for life (the party people)

Yellow - shi'yayc - remembrance, burnt out vengeance (makes for funky funerals)

Jade Green - ahan'vorpan - lust for peace, guardians and peacekeepers (does not necessarily mean I want to fuck guardians and peacekeepers, get your head outta the gutter)

Green - vorpan = duty, commitment and hard work (favourite of farmers, too)

Teal - jahaal = healing, violence as a last resort, I've seen some shit and now I defend peace (favoured by healers and New Mandalorians)

Blue - kebiin = reliability and faithfulness (favoured by single parents)

Sky Blue - kebii'tra = new love, newlyweds, marriage and all that fluffy stuff (Satine's famous jewellery TCW S2 - ObiTine for the soul)

Indigo - jiisaviin = prosperity, victory, the feeling that we have achieved our hopes (tempting fate, perhaps)

Lilac - saviin = luck, change, survival in adversity, hope for the future (associated with the old God of Luck)

Pink - cin ge'tal - respect and knowledge, a fusion of past and future (associated with journalists and academics)

Ofc this is a rough guide and if anyone either doesn't like my sense of humor or wants more detailed information, check out these posts too: x x x x

EDIT: @ranahan you've opened my eyes. Bro pointed out that after the Dral'han - aka the Annhilaton aka that one time the entire planet got carpet bombed - the entire surface of Mandalore is covered in the star wars equivalent of Trinitite, a pale green glass formed by the heat and pressure of atomic bombs. This isn't just normal green mixed with white, it's the colour of the absolute destruction of our home, and the grim determination to never let anything like this happen ever again. So, ahan'vorpan ("desolation green") instead of cin vorpan ("white green").

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chow0w · 2 months ago

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I’d honestly love to see your take on fashion for all of the tribes! I always love seeing world-building in the fork of fashion!

Thank you so much!! I'm trying to branch out and tie fashion in with lore/culture - I genuinely lost the plot with this one but you have to walk with me like WALK with me right now. come here.

Scarlet and the Skywings: A discussion on fashion, politics and culture

About this image: Queen Scarlet crawls out of her own self-portrait, looking down at Tourmaline and the Skywings in fury. She does not notice the Guillotine above her or the fire below her, focused only on her daughter who looks up in defiance. The words 'Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité' are repeated in the background, and Tourmaline's wings are drawn to look like rays of sun.

Setting the scene - Skywings and the French

I won't pretend to know the Skywing kingdom inside out, but tailwind's section in guide to the tribes gives good insight to the kingdom's situation during Scarlet/Firestorm's reign. the extract suggests that the Skywing kingdom was an economically thriving center for the arts, as well as a kingdom which followed some semblance of an aristocracy with noble families and an upper/lower class divide - similar to the situation of pre-revolution France.

We must also consider the scope of how bad things actually were before/during Queen Scarlet's reign. Social class is never directly mentioned in canon, but it could easily be reasoned (from her + Queen Firestorm's behavior) that Scarlet's rule created tons of problems for the kingdom's commoner. between fighting 20 years of sandwing succession war, uprooting major cultural practices and dumping heinous amounts of money into self-portraits, it's safe to say Scarlet and her mother were probably the two worst things that could ever happen to the average working Skywing. Like this is the Queen who threw Osprey (A public figure old enough to be long loved) into a ravine for... teaching Peril the law.

Starved of kingdom funding, ripped from their culture and sent off to die in a sandwing war, I really feel that the Skywings deserved to crash out French style on their high society.

(That's not to say that I dislike the canon plot of the kingdom: in fact, I think it's good - it completes its duty as a plot device and still manages to make sense and be cool. If I was Tui, I would absolutely call it a day there. Lucky for me, I'm a tumblr artist and not a bestselling author. I get to write about violent revolutions.)

The revised timeline

Given the context on why I think the Skywings needed a good revolution, here's how I personally would've structured the timeline after Scarlet's rule, including the events of Escaping Peril. If you haven't read that book, I suggest skipping down to the next image.

Scarlet comes into power. Bad things happen to everyone. Skywings are pissed for 20 years, but between the war, economic issue and the fire demon (Peril) nobody really has the energy to revolt. They stay quietly angry, and (perhaps) form something similar to the chrysalis.

One day, the dragonets of destiny arrive - something happens in the arena and the tyrant is gone. The kingdom sits in aftershock for a moment, before springing into gleeful celebration. The real bloodbath is never for Scarlet - presumed to be dead or missing, they turn to the Skywing nobles who supported her instead. The WoF wiki states Skywings enjoy entertainment and fighting alike, so I like to think their last gritty celebration of freedom was making the (oppressive) aristocracy their last arena victims. Dragons like Tailwind (born into nobility but low-lying or unsupportive) were probably spared.

Queen Ruby is elected to be the new skywing ruler by default - some Skywings may feel hesitant or reluctant to have Scarlet's daughter in power, but tradition + scares of another sandwing-type war keep them from kicking her out. She does a great job, so it doesn't matter anyways and they love her.

Scarlet comes back in Escaping Peril, and for a brief moment the kingdom is turned upside down. Stories spread like wildfire, and the Skywing population are ignited with a new sense of rage at their old Queen's return. At this point, I don't even think Peril's presence would be able to stop riots and uprise on the streets.

Ruby challenges Scarlet and the canon ending happens, or Peril (somehow) realizes Ruby is Tourmaline another way and the fight can be avoided altogether. Instead, the nature of Tourmaline's erasure (using animus magic, changing her identity) is so offensively un-Skywing that the population snaps and jump Scarlet together, right then and there. She dies like Scar from the lion king.

Back to the fashion - high society

Plot lost, plot recovered. I will talk about fashion now - starting with that of the aristocracy (specifically during Scarlet and Firestorm's reign.)

Extravagant garments crown the nature of upper-class fashion: big bows, long dresses, feathered headpieces and fur wigs are what make you well-dressed here. Curiously, upper-class Skywing attire is not very Skywing at all: imports are in, tradition is out! The dragons of the aristocracy order pearls from the sea, pelts from the north and the finest tailors to put it together. As the sandwing succession war starts, trade deals are interrupted and these garments become rarer: more valuable.

Function and Logistics

These garments are generally viewed as unisex, with the urge to be best dressed outcompeting the urge to have gendered clothing within society. Most of them have intricate mechanical makeup, which is a landmark to the Skywings and their long history of design. Copper wires braided together are bent to form skirt cages, and headdresses are fashioned in place using a complicated network of leather bands and iron clips. Putting these outfits on would undoubtedly require a team of assistants: maids clip the headdress in place while tailors edit the radius of the skirt cage, fixing it in place with a small plume of flame. The final result is a splendorous, inconvenient piece of clothing meant to show your wealth and absolutely nothing else. I imagine that flying is near impossible with these garments (or - one can fly, at the expense of their gown) so most dressing and undressing is done within palace walls.

Queen Scarlet and her mother, obsessed with beauty, would likely uphold these garments as a uniform standard within balls and celebrations. Skywings were expected to look as best as they could, with absolutely no exceptions and a very deadly consequence for disobedience. Fashion is always, in some aspect, political; seeing this type of needless extravagance as a working-class Skywing would've undoubtedly sparked anger, and I'm sure the French revolutionaries would agree.

Clothing for the Skywings: past and present

As it tends to, the fashion of the elites will bleed into the world around it - and with the removal of their culture and tradition, the Skywings of the kingdom would most likely follow suit in how they dressed themselves - abandoning traditional garb in fear of Queen Scarlet, and adopting new fashion trends.

These trends would include simplified, practical versions of High-class clothing: petticoats and puff sleeves replace pearl necklaces, fitting in with societal expectations while still being functional. These coats could be used to store day-to-day necessities like gold coins, trinkets or herbal medicines, with the sleeves made from thinly stretched fabric. Some Skywings may choose to embroider their coats and shirts, or even wear a hat - a slightly impractical item which could be used to flaunt one's financial security. While this fashion is nice, I'm sure lots of Skywings would be old enough to remember their traditional wear: some may even have it in their home, tucked away in the attic with other relics of home.

I imagine these garments were much more fluid in shape: made to be beautiful and flyable, they consisted of long fabrics trailing down from the base of one's neck, made from local materials found on the mountain - feathers, wool, flower dyes etc. The clothes themselves were beautifully detailed through pattern, not shape: beads, embroidery and stitching could be used to create a high-class garment, which would be used during weddings or balls. Some hats may have also been present, although these would still be largely difficult to fly with. These clothes probably returned as the Skywing kingdom began to heal, alongside the old traditions buried under tyranny.

When sketching these garments, I looked to traditional Kazakh clothing for inspiration, as both cultures share their mountainous location and use of local material. I understand that Kazakh and French clothing are different fashions from wildly different cultures, and the only reason this really works is because I'm writing in the context of fictional dragon world and not real human world. I considered keeping the fashion solely French, but honestly they're both so beautiful I had to include Kazakh clothing too!

Choosing which cultures to investigate is always the hardest part about making these posts, and so I'm trying to incorporate a lot of diversity as I plan - and maybe even explore one tribe in the lens of multiple cultures.

If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading along! Writing about lore and culture is SO fun, and I really appreciate all of you who've inquired about fashion/culture within the other tribes! These posts take a little bit longer to make, so I'm aiming for one a week but we'll see. To anyone interested, my art contest is still going until the end of June! If you're a regular on this blog you will have heard this too often and want to jump me, but please have mercy.

You can find more info and enter here, in my discord server!

later ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ

#wings of fire #wof #art #character design #wof redesign #wof headcannon #wof skywings #skywings wof #wof queen scarlet #queen scarlet #queen scarlet wof #queen firestorm wof #tailwind wof #wof fashion #wof tribe

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 year ago

Text

Feyd Fantasy

Label mature 18+

Pleasure & Pain

Summary

The destiny guiding Bene Gesserits select you to marry Feyd Rautha. The nephew to the Baron of the great house Harkonnen.

You will secure an heir for their selective genetics program to try again for an all powerful being. A Kwisatz Haderach with the ability to see through all space and time, past, present, and future.

Feyd was set to be married with an Atredies female to secure the birth of the Kwisatz Haderach but the plan failed when House Atredies birthed a male. Now the Bene Gesserits must salvage Feyd Rauthas genetics through your impregnation for another chance.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen however is psychotic, sadistic and sick. On your wedding night he tortures and breeds you mercilessly to procure his heir.

Established relationship new wife

Starts off heavy Sci Fi Dune Ends with sexual insanity

⚠️ Hardcore Smut ⚠️

Sexual torture•manhandling•male dominance •restraints•shibari•ownership•humiliation•knife play sex toys•nipple play•mentions of blood •mentions of being stabbed•mentions of bodily fluids•vaginal vasodilation •overstretching•overstimulation•orgasm denial•clit play•oral sex on female•squirting• multiple orgasms•cum eating•ovulation sex•sex in heat• size kink•breeding kink•multiple cream pies

⚠️Pure Feyd Rautha breeding smut ⚠️ ✍🏼 Proof-writer @faegoddessog

Part 1 •Part 2 •Part 3• Part 4 •Part 5• Part 6

⏳Extreme Dune Inaccuracies⌛️. UPDATE: confirmed it’s pretty Dune accurate with the Bene Gesserit Breeding program 🏆 💝Not for my softies🆕 Skip to Austins Bath ➡️

Inspo: ⚔️Multiple anonymous requests combined: - unsuspecting female -mysteriously drawn to him -merged houses/marriage -female of nobility -ovulating female in heat -Feyd Pain Dom -Feyd Pleasure Dom -Knife play no gore - Feyds cock description -Oral sex squirting on Feyds tongue -Brutal breeding sex -Womb Implantation

✍🏼 written & corrected with @faegoddessog 👑

Pleasure & Pain

The Bene Gesserit breeding program failed when house Atreides birthed a male instead of a female. After centuries of breeding to join House Harkonnen and house Atreides to create a Kwisatz Haderach all seemed nearly lost.

The Kwisatz Haderach would be an all powerful being able to see through time, space, past, present, and future to control destiny. With the Atreides male assumed dead the Bene Gesserit order take a desperate measure to ensure they can try for a Kwisatz Haderach again. They will salvage the desirable genetics of the young Harkonnen heir, Feyd Rautha for the next generation.

When you are called to see your leader the reverend mother you are not expecting to be the female chosen to carry the genetics for the future Kwisatz Haderach.

You are a devoted young Bene Gesserit with the proper bloodline from noble houses. You will be impregnated by Feyd Rautha and continue his lineage salvaging their Genetics program.

The decision has already been made with an arranged marriage to be held on his planet, Giedi Prime. Everything must be done hastily before anything unexpected happens to the body of Feyd Rautha. Should he die they will lose their chance.

They arrange the wedding before his upcoming fight in the arena to kill his 100th gladiator. They can not risk the error if he is slaughtered.

Not only are you to be impregnated with his heir to secure the future Kwisatz Haderach, you must also bind his mind with a physiological fail safe using the prana-bindu phrases of your Bene Gesserit training.

The reverend mother believes they are sending you like an innocent to be defiled. Your training is not complete, your sight is barely awakened and your pain tolerance is underdeveloped.

You have not gone through the proper training crucial for long term survival with a psychopath such as Feyd. However your genetic line, with the ability to control your ovulation and select the gender of your unborn, will salvage their breeding program entirely. That is the final deciding factor.

Harkonnen Fortress Giedi Prime

Feyd Rautha’s excessive ambitions for power made him seem deranged. He would do anything to secure the throne as Baron.

He had been groomed from childhood to become the next reigning by his detestable Uncle, the current Baron. Feyd Rautha had lethal finesse and extremely seductive charm, the skills of an excellent leader.

However due to his disastrous upbringing by his lecherous uncle he was now primed to be a ruthless killing machine and sexual deviant without restraint.

He was able to suppress his blood lust and sexual debauchery from the public eye, but behind closed doors he was a bloodthirsty, pain-inflicting sadist.

Agreeing to an arranged marriage was a simple task to Feyd. It would mean the furtherance of his greater goal; becoming the Baron and perhaps, he thought, the next Emperor.

As he and his uncle sat in the meeting hall to discuss his future obligations, Feyd sat spread across his throne. His knees were parted wide, his elbows on the armrest, his back is laid low against his seat. He played with his knife inflicting pain on his finger to the point of piercing it without a change of expression.

When his uncle brought up the betrothal, Feyd Rautha didn't pay much attention. When it was decided that he would ascend to the throne, Feyd sheathed his knife and sat up listening with more intent to what his marital duties might be.

He knew that he would have to take a female with a compatible bloodline. He was in no way bound to actually care for her. The marriage would be political and aside from initial customary meetings, he didn't have to spend any time with her at all.

The first few days after the wedding they were certain to share a bed. The first night being of the utmost importance in consummating an heir. After that it would be like any other political marriage; loveless and distant.

These facts didn't bother Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, it was all part of his duty as the next Baron.

Weeks Later: Giedi Prime

You were arriving on Giedi Prime the night before your wedding day. Compared to your home world it was colder, darker, and dirtier. The buildings were enormous, gray and industrial. Heavy clouds filled the sky.

Having seen a portrait of Feyd you found his looks mysterious yet strikingly handsome. You were made aware of his sexual debauchery and brutal upbringing from several trusted sources.

They had shown concern, but were not sure the full extent of his degradation. What they did know is he was raised to be a ruthless killer and sexual deviant. He had his choice of pleasure slaves and was confirmed to be psychotic and depraved in nature.

He, however, is completely unaware of your true intentions.

His uncle was led to believe you would marry his sadistic, bloodthirsty nephew Feyd and save his bloodline which would guarantee a future for the Harkonnen dynasty.

He eagerly joined your two houses, securing his depraved psychotic nephew an heir and increasing the validity of his status simultaneously.

In reality you were sent on a mission to salvage Feyd Rauthas genetics for the Bene Gesserit breeding program which only selected the ancestral lines of great houses such as the Harkonnens for centuries.

When the deed is done you are to whisper the prana-bindu phrases in his ear as he sleeps to bend him and hypno-ligatiate his psyche. With the utterance of one specific word it would be used to weaken him to the point of complete muscle paralysis. This would be used if he ever became a threat to the Bene Gesserit plans.

With his sperm implanted in your womb you would secure the future Kwisatz Haderach for the Bene Gesserit Order.

Being part of this secret order gave you extremely special abilities. You gained control over your own biology and were able to ovulate and choose the gender of your unborn at conception.

Once Feyd penetrates you he would become addicted to your sex, and you could seduce him even further to do what the Order desired.

Wedding Ceremony

The entire courtship was hastened due to his impending gladiatorial fight and increased his risk of death. When you finally see Feyd it is in the great hall on opposite ends of the vast stage for the wedding ceremony.

As you wait for the festivities to commence you take your first long look at him waiting on the other side of the stage

He is stoic and imposing, tall and handsome. Almost in complete contrast to his repulsive uncle. The only resemblances are the pale whiteness of his skin and complete lack of hair.

Not even eyebrows frame his hunter’s eyes. He was hauntingly beautiful in this way, his high cheekbones accentuating his deep set blue eyes. His perfectly angular nose drawing your eyes to his plump full lips and defined jawline.

You had an immense attraction to him. He was regal, wearing black ceremonial garments made of elaborate fabrics showing his status and wealth.

Feeling your gaze, he turns his attention and lays eyes on you for the first time. He is astonished by your beauty.

He had no initial interest in seeing your appearance. Now with his sights on you he is fascinated. You have defiant, piercing eyes and beautiful features without ornament. He feels something stir in him, though he was stripped of his emotions long ago. What remained now was a ruthless fighter and soon to be Baron.

You wore a white hooded gown, though he could still see your healthy radiant hairline. The vibrance of your face and hands, the only skin visible to him, is soft and delicate. The shape of your body in the tightness of the form fitting gown impresses him greatly.

He is very pleased you will belong to him. Though he tries to hide it a maniacal smile forms across his lips. He will defile you in so many ways on the wedding night, training your body to obey him or be punished. A perfect pet he thought, unsuspecting, of high-born status, and far prettier than his others.

You are both called together to join on stage in front of his uncle the Baron. Tens of thousands of the populous cheer in the Great hall as you embrace Feyd for the first time.

You both stand together and offer your arms to the Baron’s Lord in waiting. He locks each of your wrists to the end of an indestructible chain and bestows the key to Feyd Rautha. You face the crowd holding your hands up together making the chain taught.

"Like the unbreakable chain our everlasting union" Feyd yells and the crowd erupts into even bigger cheers. You gaze into each other's eyes full of passionate promise to each other.

"I will make Feyd the new emperor!" The Baron yells to the crowd caught in the fervor of seeing his nephew and protege increase in status before his eyes.

Feyd pulls out his ceremonial sword from his hip looking into the crowd as he lifts it in the air. "And I will slay my 100th warrior in the gladiator arena in dedication to the Future Baroness," he yells his strongest.

The crowd erupts into loud chants for Feyd. It is customary for him to fight in the arena to show his valor. He and his uncle used the grand display of fights to their advantage, gaining favor with the populous. The Baron would always tip the odds in favor of Feyd to win.

Later that evening you return to your chambers after the wedding banquet. The elaborate affair was full of entertainment crowded with the Harkonnen inner circle. With conversations, food, and several cheers of congratulations, you and Feyd only caught glimpses of each other throughout the entire event. It was now time to prepare for the wedding night

You were bathed and styled by two servants and wore a sheer white sleeved gown. You are completely bare underneath. The thinness of the shimmering fabric is near invisible, showing your breasts and bare genitalia.

Once the slaves leave your chamber it allows you a moment to collect your thoughts and begin your mission.

You call upon your Bene Gesserit blood with intuition of your inner workings in your mind, seeking out and triggering your ovulation to start. With controlled precision, you will the fluids in the rest of your body to comply.

It was done, you are primed and ready for impregnation.

You leave your bed chamber and the servants place a black cloak over your shoulders clasping it in the front to cover your modesty.

Feyds Chamber

The fortress is massive, you walk through several passages and corridors until you reach Feyds quarters. It is a large two story section with a grand staircase leading down to a courtyard. An accompanying servant presses an alert at the base of the stairs. They both bow and hastily leave your presence.

After a moment of waiting you see Feyd-Rautha come to the banister above. He gazes down at you enraptured. Even fully covered in a black cloak the excitement builds inside of him for what you look like underneath.

He wears a sleeveless black tunic tied loosely at his waist. His strong chest and abs are prominent above his black fabric slacks. In the moonlight his ivory skin is glowing making him look ethereal. He gestures with his hand for you to come. You lift the hem of your gown and climb the stairs as he watches.

Once you reach the landing he invites you inside to follow him through the large floor to ceiling double doors. When you enter he pulls them shut behind you with a resounding thud. He secures a bolt down locking you both in. You assume it's for his safety but little warnings in your mind tell you otherwise. His chamber is enormous, everything is muted gray and black, void of all color.

There is a large black open frame canopy bed in the center of his chamber. The sheets are gray with black tied curtains at each post, the headboard is padded.

Just beyond his bed is a spacious balcony overlooking the front courtyard of the fortress. There is a long table at the foot of his bed frame. An assortment of peculiar metallic devices and a coil of black rope are organized on its surface.

Two large display cases are spaced on each side of his bed which strangely face out to the balcony. There is also a second table there with a collection of more odd looking dangerous items.

He has no decor or plants or art just a dark, still, lifeless room that gives you the chills.

His eyes never left you as you entered his chamber. You turn to face him, remembering your mission. He pulls his tunic open revealing his extremely muscled physique.

You stare at his pale chiseled chest and powerful muscular arms. Your eyes linger on his hard abs and small waist as he lets his tunic fall to the floor. You are attracted to him, you can't fight your physical urges.

He comes to stand in front of you shirtless in low black fabric slacks, an empty knife holster rests on his waist.

His body is pure muscled alabaster perfection. You want to touch him everywhere.

Everything he does is so elaborate and unpredictable you can't even begin to figure out what he wants.

You start by pulling your cloak from your shoulders letting it drop to the floor revealing yourself to him.

His piercing gaze studies your form, loving the way you are physically shaped, your beautiful curves accentuated in the sheer white transparent gown.

He seductively stares at your perfect nipples already wanting to pinch them, he sees the curves beneath he's been dying to touch. He sucks his teeth, making a clicking sound, when he sees your bare genitalia, increasing his sexual urges.

Sensing he is pleased, you break the long silence, "What would you like, will you show me?" you ask and gently take his wrist. You pull his hand just shy of your body, leaving the choice to him.

His primed sadistic mentality already wants to knock your innocent confidence. He reaches his hand and places it delicately around your soft throat pressing his thumb up and down your larynx watching your reaction.

You look up into his eyes and can't form a single thought as the fear creeps in. His psychotic gaze immediately instills his dominance over you. His strength and imposing size makes you feel timid.

His squeeze on your neck begins slowly, testing when you’ll make him stop.

You instinctively reach your hands up and grab his wrist when you begin to panic. He smiles at you and slowly returns to caressing your throat gently.

"Such a delicate little pet.” he says with a grin revealing his black teeth. You are at a loss for words as you stare at him realizing everything they say about him is true.

He gazes into your soft pretty eyes and he knows you'll be different. The way your eyes plead with him, even putting up resistance holding his wrist. He smiles at your efforts trying to resist him.

Everything is in his control.

He looks over your curvature wondering how good you will feel sheathed on his cock. His eyes begin to wander over your body thinking of other ways he wants to derive his pleasure out of you.

What will agonize you the most for his sexual gratification. His eyes suddenly pause between your thighs, already wet from him. He tilts his head to the side in curiosity.

He grips your dress up at the waist and reaches his hand between your legs. He slips his fingers through your wet folds. Your body tenses, then relaxes when he knows exactly how to touch you that has your body craving it. He feels how wet you are and stops. He removes his fingers collecting what he wanted.

“Your body is so responsive to me and I haven't even begun to touch you yet,” he lifts his hand to your face showing you his glistening fingers covered in your slick wetness for him.

You've gone mute, so aroused and so terrified of him forgetting all of your training.

Seeing you can't even form words due to shock he pushes his wet fingers between your parted lips, gesturing you to suck. He abruptly snatches them out when you do and dives his lips onto yours, licking the arousal off of your tongue before the taste disappears. His breathy moan against your mouth as he enjoys it makes you go weak for him.

He's terrifying, yet beautiful as he presses his soft full lips on yours. You find yourself pining for more encouraging him to give it to you. You press your breasts against his chest and pull his small waist to yours, loving the feel of his strong muscled form against your body.

You eagerly push your mouth onto his as he kisses you. His wide tongue begins enveloping your small mouth, he gently flicks his tip against yours like a snake.

You let out a sound of pleasure from the feeling which makes him stop. He pulls back and grins. You are stunned as he leaves you where you stand and heads to the table at the foot of his giant bed. He picks up the length of black rope.

He returns to you motioning you to put your wrists out. He looms over you and binds them tightly with intricate knots. Each pull on the rope rocks your body. He works to ensure they are perfect like a work of art.

He wants them taught, to see the marks you will make as you struggle to free your wrists against the bindings. The thought of the marks he'll leave on your body to remind you of your training start to make him hard. He shakes the thought from his mind, more excited about the next part of his plan.

Sexual Torture

He smiles looking up at you. He walks backwards never breaking his gaze as he lets out a measure of rope between you two.

"Come pet" he commands and yanks you forward like an animal. You have no choice but to follow and obey.

He walks you entirely past his giant bed leading you instead out to the arch way of his balcony. Confusion forms in your mind why he would lead you here as the chill of the night air hits your body.

He looks up and loops the rope through an eye hook bolt purposefully embedded in the archway above him. He's calm and focused as he pulls the rope through the large eye, forcing you to walk closer and closer to him until your arms are being lifted directly over your head.

He bends down on one knee staring at your feet as he pulls the rope higher until your heels begin to lift up. Once you are balancing on your toes, he secures the rope to another anchor hook on the frame of the balcony.

He stands tall in front of you to check his work pulling down on your trapped wrists checking that the rope is taught. He glides his hands down your arms and over your breasts. With the night air hardening your nipples he can't resist touching them.

He pinches them and you gasp. He slowly pulls them up until you begin standing higher on your toes, the pain becoming unbearable as he nearly lifts you from the ground. "FEYD Please!" you cry out for mercy, he instantly releases them back to your body.

“Such a spoiled pet I will change that" he coos. His eyes are intense and terrifying as he stares into your soft, beautiful, panic stricken ones.

He knows he is going to mentally and physically break you into complete obedience tonight. You aren’t even able to withstand his simplest tests of endurance.

He smiles knowing you belong to him you are his spoiled little pet now. Kept perfect and beautiful, always getting her way before him. Now he will ruin you for his pleasure.

He turns from you back into his chamber, leaving you strung up in the archway. You watch his movements inside. He is physically dominanting in strength and size, a perfect killing machine. All the muscles show prominently beneath his porcelain skin.

You desperately hope he shows gentleness when he breeds you, but your instincts tell you he will only know how to be brutal. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

Everything he does fills you with such strong hits of fear, but there are brief moments when he looks at you, kisses you, and touches you that are so soft you are internally begging for more.

Even with his depravity your core is throbbing for him. your body is covered in chills needing to be touched by his hands, you want him.

Your Bene Gesserit training working perfectly. You are ovulating and ready to mate. You hope his torturous game ends soon and he takes you in his warm bed to consummate the marriage and this nightmare is over.

You look to your left studying the table covered with an assortment of items there. Some phallic shaped, some glowing. You hear the click sound drawing your attention back inside to him. He unlocks his display case facing the balcony. Seeing inside once he hinges both large doors open makes your heart jump as a cold fear wracks your body.

Glinting within the display case, is an assortment of his knives. Each row looks more threatening and painful than the next.

Your eyes lose focus, feeling dizzy. You can't bear the idea of being cut or stabbed on your beautiful skin. You fidget your wrists together above your head to relieve some of the anxiety, but it only makes you feel more confined to your situation.

He carefully inspects each knife, wanting to pair the perfect one with you. He smiles as he pulls out a rare beautiful irredentist white handled one.

You watch as he takes the blade up to his tongue and slowly licks down the edge testing its sharpness. He's psychotic.

When he returns standing in front of you wielding the blade you close your eyes.

You let out a choked off whine when you feel the cold steel press against your throat. Your eyes fly open in fear. Feyd yanks your head back by the hair to expose your throat even more. He trails the knife against your most vulnerable spot.

"Feyd please, please..." you beg him for mercy. You twist your hands in vain trying to slip your wrists through the restraints, you are completely trapped.

You focus on your mission to be bred by him and beg even more. "Please I'll do everything you ask, just let me touch you, I want you, I will give myself to you, please not like this."

Upon hearing your words he slowly releases your hair. You look back into his cold dark eyes as yours softly plead with him. He removes the knife from your throat.

With perfect precision, he slices down your dress kneeling as the knife glides through the fabric without a sound. He stands back up and begins cutting off your sleeves. The cloths fall to the floor leaving you hanging trembling and completely naked.

He wanted to climax watching your blood spill on him, but your voice stirred something deep inside of his mind.

You watch as he heads back to his blade showcase. As he searches in it, you hope he is done with his knife. Instead he sheaths it at his hip.

Collecting what he wanted he returns with a ball gag. You resist holding your lips closed and he grabs your jaw hinging your mouth open. He pushes the ball inside strapping it on your mouth. "MMMFF" you yell against the ball as it absorbs your cries.

He stands behind you securing the buckle tight. He grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head back to rasp against your ear. "Now I can fully enjoy this pretty body without that mouth.”

The things you say are making him feel things he doesn't like to feel, and think things he doesn't want to think. You willingly wanting to give yourself to him is softening his resolve.

He is not soft, he wants to use you and dominate your body, getting off on your pain. He cups and squeezes your breasts from behind, pinching your nipples hard to distract himself back to the physical.

His touch is painful but you moan and arc your back to press against his cock. You want him inside of you not even able to think about torturing you anymore.

He falters and gives into his sexual urges sliding his hands down to your waist and pushing himself back against you. His eyes close as soon as he feels the heat between your legs warming his cock. It hardens his length making him want to breed with you.

He quickly pulls the knife from his hip trying to change the satisfaction of his urges. He brings the blade inches from your neck and presses his lips to your ear.

"Hold still for me pet" he whispers. He bites your lobe with his black teeth, you’ve aroused him so much his hand slips.

You feel the cold sharp point of his knife lightly scrape against your neck where he plans to cut you. You completely panic trying to move away from him. You yank your wrists against the restraints wanting to be freed. Your screams begging him not to hurt you muffled by the gag. He sheaths his knife seeing your defiance.

"Let's see how many times I need to make you cum until you obey me then,” he says finding your hopeless defiance amusing. It's the sign of someone who has never been broken before and he savors it.

He goes to the table on the balcony searching and pulling a large, metal, cylindrical shaped pill into one hand and a phallic shaped one in the other. He kneels down in front of you and brings the pill between your legs. He rests it at your entrance, making you tense.

"You'll cum only on my command," he instructs as he stares into your eyes.

You nod relieved it will be pleasurable. He pushes the shiny metal pill high inside of you with two fingers until it stops at your cervix. His fingers feel so good you clench as he slips them out.

As soon as the pill warms to your body temperature and detects your heartbeat, it begins to pulse and vibrate your entire pelvis.

Your abs constrict with each pulse and you immediately let out sounds of pleasure feeling the vibrations deep in your core. He presses the phallus on your clit and it hums as he wands it between your folds and back up to your clit again.

You moan into the gag, chest heaving as you toss your head back in ecstasy. The pill increasing in intensity with your body.

One clicking set of pulses on the inside as he wands over your clit on the outside has you curl your abdomen due to sexual overstimulation. You lift your knees up trying to relieve the intensity but he pushes your legs back down with his hand and presses the vibrating phallus into your clit even harder making your mind goes weak. The pleasure is immeasurable you fight your physical urges to cum as long as you can.

He moves the phallus to your entrance pushing it inside as the pill vibrates its strongest. Your moans are unending. You squeeze your legs together as he holds the phallus inside of you and you immediately fail. You orgasm moaning so loudly your teeth vibrate against the ball gag. Wave after wave of euphoria crashes through your entire body.

You feel a huge surge of endorphins as the pill stops. He slips the phallus out as you come down. Your breaths are heaving. Your head is bowed low, chills cover the expanse of your body. It was too pleasurable.

You hear him click his tongue in disapproval. "I didn't say you could cum, now we have to start over." He stares at you, waiting until you finally tilt your head up and nod. Your reactions are delayed the orgasm demolished you.

He puts on a ring that matches the pill and gently reaches two fingers inside of you. The pill slides down to connect with his ring and he pulls it out of your wetness. It makes you moan, you feel empty again.

Your sounds of pleasure excite him. He places the tip of the phallus under your chin tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "I enjoyed watching you cum, you make the prettiest sounds. I'll give you more, but this time, you'll cum on my command or I will punish you." He says inflecting his words deliberately at the end

You quickly nod, wanting to be good for him and avoid any pain. The pleasure he gives you is so addicting your body already craves more.

He puts his pill and phallus aside and picks up a vial of glowing liquid coating his fingers with it as he stands in front of you.

He reaches between your legs, covering your folds inside and out. His slippery fingers explore over all the flesh between your legs, spreading the liquid around liberally.

It feels so warm, and good, and pleasurable. You close your eyes, nipples hardening as you enjoy suddenly feeling more sensitive to his touch. It amuses him, he uses this arousal fluid on his most depraved pleasure slaves to make them cum.

He smiles to himself admiring how beautiful your face is in pleasure. He rewards you with a soft pinch to your clit, releasing a pretty moan from your lips. He might make you his favorite pet after his training tonight.

He slowly pushes his middle and index fingers into you, spreading the fluid inside and then holding them still as he waits. This time you fully feel the effect of the substance as it relaxes your walls and the blood begins coursing to your softening core. You feel an intense throbbing inside and out, especially on your clit.

You struggle to keep your eyes focused on his face, the feeling extreme. Your head tilts downward as your abs tighten. You endure wave after wave of powerful pulsing and intense throbbing between your legs. Your eyes close as you moan softly into the gag. Your entire body relaxes, floating in mental ecstasy.

He smiles knowing the effects are taking over. He starts to scissor his fingers inside of you, opening you up. The feeling is so good and intense, you moan and drool on the gag as your core tightens. He loves seeing you so aroused getting a high from it.

He shoves his fingers in and out of you until you are on the verge of another orgasm. The arousal fluid working so well he can push his third finger inside of you. You begin to whimper and whine as he shoves it in with the other two stretching you out and stuffing you full.

He scissors all three making a wave of pleasure swell inside of your core triggering your climax. You moan in euphoria losing tears and drool as your body constricts around his fingers.

"Does my little pet want to cum?" he asks. You nod and moan against the ball gag, tears fall from your eyes as you clench inside ready to orgasm. "You'll cum when I say" he smirks darkly making you endure more.

You whine at his denial.

He pushes his fingers up, spreading them wide, and curls them back down inside of you. If the gag wasn't in your mouth you would be high-pitched moaning so loudly everyone in the courtyard would hear it.

His cock twitches from the sound. He's beginning to enjoy pleasing you more than inflicting pain on you.

The feeling is so euphoric as he spreads you open. Your walls begin rhythmically expanding and contracting on his fingers. You don't even recognize the animalistic sounds escaping your throat as you erupt into an orgasm.

You release so much pleasure and liquid from your core it renders your body completely listless. The gag vibrates in your mouth as you deeply moan in aftershock.

Your wrists go limp in the restraints as you struggle to recover. The throbbing subsides leaving you weak and brainless as you leak arousal all over his fingers and his hand.

You whine against your drool covered gag remembering you weren't supposed to cum. He pulls his wet fingers out leaving you empty.

He brings his hand up to his mouth and slides his long tongue out. He licks his hand entirely clean enjoying the taste of your sweet cum. The slick clear texture of your ovulation makes him urge to have thick ropes of his seed coating your walls. It softens his crueler intentions

He squeezes your face by the jaw to look up at him. "I wanted to reward you and take off your restraints but you came again without my permission and now you will be punished" He watches you shiver before he continues. "I will do it lightly. I want to pleasure you and taste that sweet cum you make for me again," his voice sounds gentler as he releases your jaw.

A chill runs down your spine wondering what he considers a light punishment. He begins to pull your rope from the anchor hook back down into his hands.

As your arms lower you feel the blood begin flowing to your limbs again giving you relief. He releases the ball gag from your mouth relaxing your even more. He wipes your tears and chin clean. He looks you over, still so beautiful to him. Your wrists bright red with dots of blood, pupils blown wide from shock.

He's pleasured you brainless now he wants to fuck you boneless.

The Atonement

He suddenly yanks the rope pulling your wrists. "Come get your punishment pet," he watches the look of surprise returning some vitality to your washed out eyes.

You feel the knots in your stomach thinking of what torture he has in store. He has already defragmented your mind to pieces, you will do anything he asks. He pulls you along until he reaches his table at the foot of the bed. He looses the rope and steps down on it making you kneel to the floor bowing down at his feet.

He sifts through the items on the table finding what he wants and yanks you up by your rope to kneel. He brings a dainty silver chain in front of you in his hands. At first you think its a necklace until he clamps one end on your right nipple and the other end on your left.

Your body constricts as you try to get used to the feeling. Your nipples become extremely hard in the clamps, it is pleasurable yet painful at the same time sending chills across your body.

"You are such a soft pet, so I will only punish you lightly," he says and begins pulling the chain up it sharpens the pinch of the metal on your nipples making you cry out.

He lifts the chain higher beckoning you to stand. You struggle to lift from kneeling with your hands tied in front of you. He never releases his tight hold on the chain as you try to get up. You finally gain your footing and stand in front of him.

Your body jolts when he tugs your nipple chain pulling you into him. He begins kissing your throat and with the way he licks and sucks onto your neck it makes you give in to him completely.

He takes his time and sucks loving bruises across the entire front of your neck making a collar. Your moans and whimpers sound so good close to his ear. They are his new favorite sounds and he wants more.

He reaches his hand up cupping your jaw kissing your lips passionately. As he kisses you he begins to savor every touch of your lips together.

The feeling is foreign to him, not having the urge to cause you pain to get aroused. His cock is growing hard between his legs just knowing he's giving you pleasure. You finally touch him, rubbing your bound hands on the hard length of his growing cock. It entices a deep moan out of him.

He parts from you and pulls his knife. You whimper in fear, remaining completely still; trembling yet obedient. He brings the knife down to your wrists cutting each knot on your restraints one by one.

Your freed wrists are incredibly bruised and red with blood. He inspects them remembering how much you struggled when you were tied.

Instead of arousal he feels something else inside that he thinks is remorse. The thought strikes him, you are his baroness his wife and he can never mark on you this way again. He rubs his thumbs across the marks thinking of how he can atone.

He removes his knife and holster from his waist and sets them on the table. He picks up another metallic phallus and pill knowing what you like. He pulls you onto the bed making you lay in the middle.

You look up and see a mirror on his ceiling. You watch in the reflection as he settles between your legs with his face instead of his body.

He softly pushes the pill deep inside of you and removes his fingers. As it detects your vitals and begins to pulse. He taps the phallus on and presses it to your clit. You let out a pleasurable sound that he likes and he smiles.

He presses the humming phallus to your entrance and you spread your legs wider inviting him in. He enjoys it and grazes his black teeth against your soft inner thighs biting and sucking equal bruises on each side.

The pill pulses slowly inside of your body making you softly moan. He presses the phallus to your clit again and looks into your eyes. He enjoys watching your face get softer and softer from the pleasure building inside of you.

The pill starts vibrating deeply against your cervix making you want to cum. He pushes the phallus all the way in and snakes his hand up your navel pulling your nipple chain and holding it taught. All three stimuli at once make you strongly orgasm, moaning into the air.

He removes the phallus and grabs your thighs pulling them wider lowering his face between your legs. You watch as he slowly unfurls his long tongue and presses the flat wide part on your clit and laps up the clear slick cum of your orgasm. Your core tightens as you begin to moan his name and praise him repeatedly.

He smiles darkly against your folds. Your praises sound so good to him encouraging him to do more. He begins to lick and suck harder, spreading his mouth all over between your legs. He ravishes you until your body is covered in chills trembling in ecstasy.

You look up into the mirror on the ceiling seeing your face blissed out in euphoria. You watch Feyds pale muscular back flexing as he holds your thighs open and devours you between your legs.

Your core begins pounding as you moan louder watching him ravage you in the reflection. As Feyd continues to lick and suck the pill powerfully hums increasing its intensity until you are at your peak.

Your body tenses and then relents into ecstasy. You have a cataclysmic orgasm squirting liquid from your core directly into Feyds wanting mouth.

He moans deeply in pleasure as he drinks it out of you swallowing and lapping up every last drop before tonguing deep inside of you wanting more. His cock hardens completely solid.

You shiver involuntarily as you come down from your orgasm and let out a breathy moan. He begins licking you clean between your legs like an animal. His beast-like vulgarity overwhelms all of your senses.

Feyd climbs over you looking into your wrecked out eyes. He unclamps your nipples one at a time, another wave of relief washes through your body. He delicately inserts his ring finger into you, retrieving the now wet pill. He sits up to put all of the items back on the table.

You watch as he removes his black slacks, his entire body is chiseled like a perfect white marble statue. You are over come with arousal as you stare at the length firm standing between his muscular thighs.

His cock is long and hard, it bounces as he kneels back on the bed naked infront of you. He's completely hairless, his testes soft pink, his thick shaft alabaster white, his tip glowing red from arousal. Seeing his length and size you wonder how it will fit but you are craving to be impregnated by it.

You slowly sit up shakily at first then, turn over getting on your hands and knees. You crawl away from him climbing up the bed using all of your strength. He tilts his head wondering what your plan is.

You have to complete your mission from the Bene Gesserits, you need to be impregnated by his seed and you need it deep.

Brutal Breeding

You grab the headboard and arc your back down. With your knees parted wide you reach your hand between your legs and spread your wet pussy lips open for him.

You peek over your shoulder watching his reaction. His breathing becomes ragged, his eyes go dark as they fixate between your legs. His movements turn almost animalistic like he is stalking as he crawls to you. The urge to breed and soak his cock overwhelming all of his senses.

He kneels behind you placing one hand on your waist and the other around the base of his shaft. He rubs his thick heavy cock between your legs coating his tip and length in the slick arousal of your folds. His tip is throbbing as he presses it to your entrance sending a shiver up your spine.

You brace yourself, as he shifts on his knees and grips your waists preparing to breed you. With one powerful thrust he spears the tip of his cock into you. Your head knocks back against his shoulder as a desperate cry escapes your throat.

You pant heavily trying to adjust. With only the tip in, he pulls his hips back until it slips out. He grabs your legs, and spreads them wider to accommodate his size.

He rests his tip to your entrance a second time. You brace again as he powerfully thrusts his hips forward smacking against you. This time his cock plows directly into your cervix as his hips meet the backs of your thighs.

You gasp in shock before wailing. His first several thrusts are quite painful you arch your back and cry out in distress. He stretches you wide around his thick cock. His thrusts are brutal like he's he's stabbing you between the legs. After several pushes of his cock your vulva finally splits around his size. You become extremely wet. You cry out as he begins to thrust into you fully.

His soaked cock begins gliding in and out of your tight walls. The agony and pain soon turns into the reward of pleasure. You get accustomed to the feel of being stretched around his large size and finally begin to praise him and moan his name as you enjoy it.

The way your walls grip him is unlike any other he is instantly addicted to your sex.

"That's it pet ...take my cock," he breathes as he plows directly into your cervix with every single thrust. He begins to fuck you harder until you are both panting like you are running out of air. The slapping sounds of his skin against yours increases with his stamina. Your walls throb in pleasure as your moans fill the air

He finally pulls his hips back as he catches his breath, his cock is twitching wanting to cum. He holds your waist tighter and thrusts himself fully back into your tight hole repeatedly.

The head of his cock presses directly into your cervix as his shaft finally spasms. You feel the hotness filling you up as he bursts rope after rope of his thick cum into your open cervix.

Feyd lets out a loud choked off moan feeling one of the greatest pleasures in his life. Your walls clenching and releasing on him rhythmiclly trying to milk his cock of every drop.

He lets out a range of deep moans from the feeling and continues to thrust into you still hard. Shocks of pleasure begin racing up your spine from the overwhelming sensation. His thrusts never stop as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you.

You let out a string of high-pitched moans unable to contain your arousal as he pounds into you from behind. He grabs you around the back of your neck as he feels his second climax begin.

His cock gets even harder and seems to swell stretching you to another level of fullness. You cry out as you climax

He feels your orgasm milk his cock again with your tights walls and he deeply moans in pleasure. You are like a drug to him now. He fully sheaths himself inside of you, his cock twitches as he groans releasing a second load of cum deep into your womb.

He falls forward holding the headboard with you. Chest heaving cock throbbing as he thrusts every last drop into your core.

His hips slow to a still as he tries to catch his breath. He brings one arm down and wraps it around your torso holding you tightly to him.

He wants to remain one with you as long as possible, he doesn't want to pull out he wants his heir. His breathing slows as he finally softens.

He shakily straightens up behind you and pulls his hips back until his heavy tip slips out of you.

Only a few drops of his silver cum leak from you and he kneels behind you in worship, licking them back up and pushing them inside of you with his tongue.

He feels weak like the very life force was taken from him as he collapses back on to the bed.

He is unable to move a muscle as he slowly falls unconscious.

You come down from holding the head board to check him. His eyes are shut tight as he softly breathes. You stare down his pale white body to his now soft cock resting on his thigh. You are astonished he can cum more than once.

With his breathing slowed you think he must be in deep sleep dreaming so you can begin the prana-bindu phrases. You kneel over his ear and begin to chant them but he twitches violently in his sleep and turns on his side startling you.

Without thinking you quickly put your hand on his shoulder holding him steady to calm him. You will have to wait until he's fully asleep to whisper the phrases to bind him. You lift his head and slide your thigh under it.

You grab his muscular white arm by the wrist and drape it around your waist to hold you.

He looks so soft and beautiful without his cold piercing eyes. You wonder how he would've tuned out with the proper upbringing.

You can't help but show him affection wondering how cruel his life must've been with the Baron. You stroke his temple lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a twinge of pain in your uterus and press your hand on it. Using your mind to control your body you will the selection of the gender. The pain travels up your fallopian tube to your ovary and dissipates. You are pregnant with Feyds unborn.

You hope he has enough humanity left in him for your future child's sake. The severity hits you suddenly as you look down at his sleeping face.

You still have a mission. You need his breathing to be heavier. He needs to be in deep sleep with his eyelids moving while he's dreaming before you whisper the phrases this time.

You caress his shoulders and his neck and ears before it dawns on you. Maybe he has nothing to dream about. You know he craves being praised and begin to speak softly over his ear as you caress him.

"Feyd Rautha is so handsome, he is so brave and he will conquer every fighter in the gladiator arena in his upcoming fight."

His shoulder twitches and his face slightly warms into a wicked smile before returning back.

You think harder

"Feyd, your wife is pregnant with your unborn, soon you will be Baron and have your heir."

His arm squeezes firmer around your waist hugging onto you. You intertwine your fingers with his and softly rest your hand on his head. You watch as his lips part and his breathing becomes heavier. His eyelids finally shift as he begins to dream.

You quickly whisper prana-bindu phases into his ear binding him and watch as his eyelids open a sliver, showing the whites of his eyes and then close. It is done.

You lift his head and gently rest it back to the bed pulling the blanket to cover him. You will go back to your chambers now that the deed is done. He can do what he wants and you will remain obedient enough that he doesn't discard you or kill you. You will await further orders from the Bene Gesserits.

When you step from the bed you wince in pain as a dull ache begins to form between your legs. He's bred you so brutally you can barely walk.

You will think of ways to make him gentler now that he enjoys giving you pleasure. You rest your hand against the banister of his bed before you can take another step.

You check your body. Your wrists and inner thighs are covered with bruises, you reach your hand to your neck remembering he sucked there across the entire front. Finally you reach between your legs and wince from the tenderness. You look back at Feyd still sleeping soundly. You slowly walk to collect your cloak and escape.

You find it at the entrance in the darkened room on the floor and clasp it back on. You get to his large bedroom doors and see the bolt resting across. You are almost completely out of strength as you try to push the bolt up. It lifts and falls back too quickly making a loud click sound as it settles.

Feyd is already up when he hears the familiar sound.

He comes and strips your cloak off of your body and picks you up over his shoulder carrying you back to his bed. He looks you over as he lays you down.

"Are you going to stay or do I have to tie you up?" his voice sounds very tired.

"I'll stay," you say knowing he would tie you up if you said otherwise.

He goes to re-secure the door before climbing back into bed with you.

He nudges you with his hands making you go higher and higher up the bed until your back is resting against his head board. He settles between your legs laying his head on your thigh.

His muscular shoulders are prominent in your lap as he wraps his arms around your hips hugging you. His affectionate embrace shocks you.

He tugs at your wrist, wanting your hand on his head. You wonder if he remembered this in his sleep as you begin to stroke behind his ear and down his neck.

He is addicted to the way you comfort him, feeling love and affection softens him completely for you. His hand creeps from around you to rest over your navel.

He stares at it like he is imagining his baby growing inside and gently caresses your womb.

Your ears tingle wondering if he realizes. When he kisses you at the exact place above your unborn, you understand somehow he must already know.

Your eyes grow weary, your body begins completely shutting down from shock and stress. You slowly fall unconscious resting your head back to the headboard.

When your hand stops caressing him he tugs it once then looks up realizing you are asleep. He sits up and cradles your head in his hands as he brings you down from the headboard to lay in his bed.

You are completely out. He looks at your sleeping face feeling a mix of pain for hurting you and happiness that you are his. The new emotions are overwhelming to him he tries to block them out.

Laying down with you he covers you both. He pulls you onto his chest placing your hand across his shoulder to hold him. He closes his eyes and slowly drifts into a deep sleep dreaming he is Baron of Giedi Prime with his Baroness and his heir.

~*END*~To Be Continued

UPDATE: Part 2 Now Available ✍🏼

🏷️ @burnthheparaphilia @elvismylove04 @lindszeppelin @obsessedvibee @abswifey @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @purejasmine @hardcoredisneynerd @i5uckersblog @phil2135561 @steph-speaks @maloribarnes1999 @austinswhitewolf @berlinalv

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orlesianhennin · 10 months ago

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I really feel like so many people who hate Vivienne for being power hungry do not fully grasp and appreciate the desperation that Vivienne feels because she conceals it so well… as little content as she got, she honestly is expertly written and presented and it’s why it disappoints me so much when people hate her for surface level reasons… her writer deserves so much more appreciation.

I think it is subtle because she hides it and you really have to care about the character to seek out these threads and understand her motivations… she is in danger of total irrelevance, being cast aside by society (and history), and she is forced to ride the coattails of some upstart organization because all of the institutions she is invested in have either totally failed her or cast her aside.

She is clearly a prideful person who does not readily admit this… but her true talent is how clearly she can evaluate this and understand her own position. She suffers no delusions. She knows the Circle’s standing in society is diminished to nothing if it doesn’t house and account for the majority of mages, and she is left with just meek Chantry loyalists and sycophants who are lost without her guiding hand, as even otherwise pro-Circle mages with any sense have abandoned ship and left both rebels and loyalists at this point to see where the chips fall (Ellandra) - and the Chantry itself has been all but decimated in terms of military and political power. The one lifeline she has is the Imperial Court, and the fickle nobility have moved on from her - the mages are now a threat that she cannot control or offer any meaningful opposition to, and Celene’s favor has turned to Morrigan, and Vivienne does not know if she will ever have it again. She knows Bastien is dying, and that all that she has left at court will be those who hold kind feelings towards her such as his family, and that is a position she can never accept - being at the mercy of others.

We meet Vivienne, this impressive, powerful mage, who has made a life for herself by maneuvering brilliantly, all to improve her own standing, at a point where she is in danger of losing everything she has. And she doesn’t let on, at least not explicitly, but she joins the Inquisition out of desperation - it’s obvious she sees it as an opportunity, but the gravity of the situation for her isn’t clear from the start. She refuses to lay down and fade away. Vivienne would never had joined this fledgling upstart organization if she was in a better position at Court or there wasn’t a vacuum of power. She is very close to having nothing left, and starting over - and so she does. Before the rug can be pulled from under her, she gets out and sets off for herself again.

Vivienne, often accused of pride, privilege, and self importance, comes to the Inquisitor out of pure humility. She knows she is reduced. And her gamble ultimately pays off, and the Inquisition becomes the political juggernaut that it does, and she becomes more powerful and important than ever just by association. And I like to think, especially with an Inquisitor who respects and befriends her, that she plays no small part in shaping the organization.

I think this is also why, potentially, she plays it so cool at the Winter Palace. She doesn’t get involved… she doesn’t need to. Simply being present is a statement to the court, and she truly doesn’t care about who wins; it’s not just the Game, it’s personal, despite what she claims. That they cast her aside, and now they are interested again… not necessarily in her, but still, she sees the paradigm shifting again. She is now a part of the organization who gets to change Orlais, and favor with the Inquisition is quickly becoming just as important as favor with Celene.

The whole arc is a subtle one as she really doesn’t get much attention, but if you pay close attention, it shows how expertly Vivienne plays politics. We already know she came from nothing and maneuvered into a powerful position. But I think not everyone realizes she is nearly back to nothing when we first meet her… and through the course of the game’s events, by allying with the right people, she plays the game well enough to become an advisor to the most influential person in southern Thedas… and potentially even Divine. But her initial plea to the Inquisitor, for all the great lengths she goes to keep up the appearance of strength and invulnerability, comes from a place of utter desperation.

#maybe others also GET this but I feel like ppl who are critical of her… do not?#vivienne #vivienne de fer #dragon age #dai

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inky-duchess · 7 months ago

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Fantasy Guide to the Death of Monarchs

(no, unfortunately this is not a how to guide. Special Branch can now unhitch from outside my house)

To quote The Lion King... The Circle of Life. Monarchs are born, they live, they die. But what exactly happens when a monarch dies?

Dying

The monarch is on their deathbed. Their family, their friends, their advisers (their bit on the side sometimes) are lingering in the room or in the corridor. But of course, death isn't always expected. Usually, if the death is sudden, such as during a military campaign or an assassination, there is a scramble to preserve the news of the death for a time in order to make the necessary arrangements.

Causes of Death

"... Let us sit upon the ground. And tell sad stories of the death of kings; How some have been deposed; some slain in war, Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed; Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping kill'd; All murder'd," - William Shakespeare, Richard II.

Monarchs die like everybody else. They can die from anything. Disease (Alexander the Great), death at war (Richard I), assassination (Philip III of Macedonia), old age (Elizabeth II), starvation (Richard II), misuse of a hot poker (Edward II), murder at the hands of family (Edward V), childbirth (Jadwiga of Poland), accident (William of Orange... Pussy) , poison (Emperor Claudius) or on the toilet (George II). The death of a monarch is something at will be contested sometimes. If the body is not seen, there may be a belief that they live on. If the monarch dies suddenly, there may be rumours of foul play. No matter how a monarch dies, it will lead to uneasiness.

After Death

The steps after the monarch dies, usually include securing the next heir, proclaiming them to the people, and then working toward a clean succession. This time is delicate, it can be the breeding ground of coups and treacheries. Any claim other than the designated heir must be silenced by the proclaimation of the next sovereign as soon as possible. Child monarchs are extremely at risk during this period as the adults around them will seek to take custody of them. They who hold the monarch hold the power. It is imperative that the heir be notified at once so the stability of the kingdom can be assured.

The X is dead, Long Live the Next Guy

Once they breathe their last, all attention will turn to the next monarch or the scramble to find one. Be it by succession by blood or an election, the designated successor will immediately (even in the absence of a coronation) become the next monarch. Likely they will have been near their predecessor, either at their bedside or at least in shouting distance. But if they are away, they will quickly return to claim their throne. Without delay. Elizabeth II was actually on royal tour when she recieved news her father had died, leading to a hasty scramble back home.

When things don't go according to plan

The monarch passes away. There are tears. Sometimes. There are sometimes coups as I mentioned. Young would be monarchs could be kidnapped, eg. Edward V. Another heir claims the throne instead of the designated heir, eg Lady Jane Grey and King Stephen. Monarchs who die on battlefields can have their bodies stolen (James IV of Scotland) or thrown into a ditch with their crown snatched (Richard III). The death of a monarch is a delicate time and dangerous for all royal family members. In some instances, it would lead to murder. If a son of a previous Ottoman Sultan wished to be the next Sultan, they would order the mass murder of their brothers upon their father's death - usually death by strangulation.

Funeral

The funeral of the monarch is something that is usually planned from day one. There would be some sort of plan in place for the funeral, the when, the where and the how. The monarch might know these plans but the upper rank of courtier and aides would know. Funerals would follow a certain pattern, likely adapting from previous funerals. They would be a public, a lavish ceremony that would see to the closure of businesses, entertainment venues, the arrival of foreign dignitaries and a long procession of the body surrounded by military forces, watched over by the grieving public. If they actually liked the monarch. Some deaths of Kings were met without any sadness such as George IV. There might also be lavish games thrown in the monarch's honour.

Mourning

Mourning is the period of time that the country, the court and royal family grieves publicly. It can last a week or so, like today. Or up to a year. In China, sometimes mourning lasted 3 years or more. Mourning period often came with strict rules about what one could do or dress in. In Edwardian times, there were stages in mourning. Full mourning could last up to a year, with women wearing black with very little ornament and widows covering their hair with bonnets of veils. Second mourning (6-9 months), women's clothes could be adorned with trimming and finally half mourning is the 3-6 month period where colour started to be reintroduced, restricted at first to greys and mauves. There would be no balls, no parties, no sporting during the deepest part of mourning.

#Fantasy Guide to death of a monarch #Death of Monarchs #writing #writeblr #writing resources #writing reference #writing advice #writer #spilled words #writer's problems #writer's life #Writing guide #Writer research #Writer resources #Royal funeral #Royalty #Royal #Royalty and nobility

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primrosechronicles · 4 months ago

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"I Fear He might be Beast.. or a Troll."

A Telemachus x Princess!Reader requested by: @luckywitchsong

Summary : You a Princess is scared, for you do not know who identity of your fiance. Word Count : 1296 Credits to @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers Part 2

“You are to marry the son of Queen Penelope Períphron and King Odysseus the Polytropos. In three months, you will be sent to Ithaca.”

✰ ✰ ✰

You sit in your bedroom, filled with the golden glow of Apollon’s light, its warmth wrapping around you like a warm embrace. Yet, in stark contrast, your mind is a cold wasteland, destroyed by a swirling tornado of thoughts about who this man could be.

You try to think positively, You know your parents! There's no way they would marry you off to a man with no class, he must be a kind man. Not like those rude men in stories. The ones who are usually nobility—entitled, arrogant… and unhygienic. Oh gods.

You stand up and start frantically pacing around the room, thinking about who this mystery fiancé could be. What is he like? Is he really like a manchild like you thought he would be or could he be the opposite?

A long sigh leaves your lungs as you lean on the balcony, you can only wait until the fates weave you and your future (hopefully kind) husband together.

Meanwhile, In a distant land, a young prince gazes out towards the horizon

The Prince sighs, longingly staring out to the sea, his elbows perched on the balcony's railings. He leans onto his hand as he daydreams about his future bride.

His parents had described his bride-to-be as a kind woman. Now, he wasn't foolish; he knew his parents understood what they were doing when choosing a bride whose kingdom's assets could benefit Ithaca. Yet, doubt remained. What if this woman was not what his parents had described?

But… she could be kind and intelligent… The thought of him marrying an intelligent and beautiful girl made his stomach burst with butterflies.

‘Oh Lady Aphrodite, guide me… ‘

3 months later….

Your ship arrived in Ithaca under the cover of night. The guards on duty had orders to provide temporary shelter for you and your companions if arrival occurred during the sleeping hours, ensuring a place to rest until morning.

You lay awake in your bed, unable to sleep as your thoughts are consumed by the identity of who you’re marrying.

These thoughts lead you to the Palace’s gardens, trying to find some comfort in this unfamiliar place. It’s cold— very cold, you rub your hands together in an attempt to generate heat but to no avail.

This weather is not helping your nerves. Mentally preparing yourself, you raise your palms upwards and pray to the Goddess of Marriage

Hear me, Queen of the Deathless Gods,

Consort to the Mighty Zeus

and Goddess of Marital Union, —-

“--- My Lady what are you doing..?” You turn around and see a young man with leaves in his hair and a blue blanket wrapped around his frame. You look at the man from the side of your eye. “Nothing.” You say in response, getting back to your prayer.

I seek your wisdom and guidance.

Please grant me a good husband.

A husband who is loyal— “My lady… while praying to the Gods is important, I feel as though that the God or Goddess you are praying to will be much happier if you weren’t shivering while praying..”

“I am not shivering.” You say as your shoulders shake from the chill of the wind. You raise your palms up to continue praying.

A husband who is— “But, you are... Shivering”

You let out an annoyed exhale, “I am not.”

“You are…”

“I am not!”

“You are!”

‘Sorry Queen Hera, I fear my prayer will have to wait.’ You internally pray as you lower your palms.

You turn around, annoyed; and raise an eyebrow at the man. “Good Evening um– Ithaca has harsh winds this time of year, I recommend you come back inside where it is warmer, or atleast have something to keep you warm…” He says as he offers his blue blanket to you.

You furrow your brows in suspicion, slowly backing away from the mysterious man. “I’m quite alright thank you…” but then suddenly, a wave of cold air washes over the palace. You shiver and instinctively hug yourself with your arms to shield yourself from the cold.

The young man walks beside you and offers the blanket again. “You say you don’t need it but your shaking shoulders tell me otherwise; please take it, I insist.”

You shakily reach out and take the blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Thank you,” You whisper. “For the blanket…”

You and the man stare out into the horizon, Selene’s moon casting an ethereal glow onto Poseidon’s deep blue sea.

“Your hands were stretched out… Were you praying?” “Yes.”

In the corner of your eye, you see him turn to you. “Why?” He asks.

“Well that’s oddly personal.” You look him up and down. “None of your business.”

You and the man stiffly stare back out into the distance, the whooshing of waves filling the awkward silence. You tiredly sigh, maybe you shouldn’t have responded rudely. “Because I am afraid, I am afraid of who or what he is, my parents have not told me any details of who he is.”

Your hands grip onto the blanket tighter. “I am afraid of my future, women who are often in arranged marriages tend to have husbands that are… goblins…”

“A goblin?” He asks, “or a brute.”

He raises an eyebrow and clicks his tongue in thought. “Who are we speaking of?”

“The prince.”

“Not a peep of information from my mother and father, clearly they are hiding the fact that the Prince is a goblin or a brute.”

He smirks. “Understood.”

You gasp, a metaphorical candle lighting up above you. “Maybe you could assist me in running away from my fate!”

“A question please my Lady— you do not like brutes or.. Goblins? Does looks happen to be an important quality in marrying you..?”

“I do not care what he looks like, what I don’t like is having no knowledge of my future husband. Now—”

You walk along the side of the palace and spot a horse with a saddle on it. “Do you see that horse over there? By the torch? With your help I believe I could escape my goblin husband!”

“You want me to help you run to that horse so you may escape…?”

“I quite literally just said that.”

“Won't your entourage notice your absence?”

You wave your hand “I shall worry about that later, now– make haste!”

He breathes out and shakes his head. “I… have no desire to help you.”

You raise your eyebrows and stare at him in disbelief. “I am a maiden in need of saving.. You refuse? You refuse to help a maiden in distress?”

“I refuse when that maiden in distress is trying to horsenap a horse so that she won't have to marry me…” He says softly, a soft smile gracing his features. “Hello ____.”

A crashing tsunami of realization hurls into you. “Oh gods… Forgive me my Prince— I did not know..” You attempt a bow but he stops you in your tracks.

“Please, Call me Telemachus” He softly holds your shoulders, guiding your posture so that you would face him. “Not ‘My Prince’ or ‘Your Majesty’ Only… Telemachus.”

“Please Your Majesty—” “Telemachus.” He corrects you.

You cough to clear your throat. “Telemachus forgive me, If I had known that you were my fiance—” “You would’ve what? Not have told me your plans that you would steal a horse..?”

“....Well yes.” You say, He chuckles in response. “I deeply apologize, Your Majesty.” “Telemachus… well yes— ‘your Majesty’ but to you..? Always just… Telemachus.”

You exhale 3 months of anxiousness, what-ifs, and fears out of your body. He wasn’t a brute after all. He was just Telemachus.

A/N : Chapter 2 of my series "For the queen" will come out soon (not rlly soon but it is in the works!) sorry for not posting guys school has rlly been hectic lately.

#telemachus x reader #x reader #x you #epic the musical telemachus #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic the ithaca saga

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prythianpages · 8 months ago

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Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air.

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate.

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever.

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right?

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more.

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.” And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here.

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.”

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom. A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back.

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

"You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares.

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once.

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom. "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face. "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it. "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.”

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam.

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction

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ateezlibrary · 6 months ago

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ruin me (m) • jyh

pairing: noble!yunho x princess!reader

tags/genre: 18+ (mdni), smut with plot, historical au, forbidden attraction, forced proximity, power dynamics, loooots of tension, arranged marriage to mingi (we don't like him)

word count: 4.8k

synopsis: with your kingdom at risk, your parents devise a grand plan to have you arranged to be wed to the rival kingdom's son. in an effort to demonstrate peace, you and prince mingi are required to attend a ball (spoiler alert: it doesn't go well). a desperate need to escape sends you straight into yunho's arms.

notes: hi y'all. haven't been on this account for a while and i do have a handful of requests to get through, but i did want to get this up here for a friend of mine! feel free to continue submitting scenario/fic requests that i can ponder on. :-) enjoy!

The hand in mine is cold, unfeeling as fingers lace around mine in a feeble attempt to demonstrate some semblance of a happy couple. The gesture is robotic, one that leads me to roll my eyes as I nimbly clasp his hand in response. At the bottom of the staircase, the grand hall is filled to the brim with nobility from across the kingdoms, each of them striving to out-dress the next as they glide around marbled floors in decadent gowns and suits. My free hand dangles at my side, fingers clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release the nerves of entering with my suitor for the night.

“Let’s go,” is all he says, his voice devoid of any affection as he pulls me along with him to notify the guard of our arrival. The younger uniformed man nods once, capturing the attention of the parties beneath us as he bangs his staff against the ground twice.

“His Highness, Prince Song Mingi, along with the Princess of the Southern Kingdom of Jeonsu.”

And so, the whispers commence. Hushed voices commenting on what we were wearing, on how we looked together, how Song Mingi held my hand in his. Along comes a certain myriad of comments on how our kings and queens despised one another and how I was a stranger in their territory. Like clockwork, Mingi utilizes his court training well, guiding me down the grand staircase with my hand now on his arm. I hold my head high, against the scoffs from the foreign nobility and keep my eyes fixated on a particularly dazzling chandelier.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a familiar presence standing watch from a towering marble pillar near the far end of the room. A head of tousled brunette hair, wide brown eyes, a tall frame donning a well-fitted sapphire suit. He offers me a small smile of encouragement, one that makes my heart flutter for the slightest of moments before I follow Mingi’s guide to the bottom of the staircase. We bow before the crowd expecting us, the orchestra returning to its waltz.

Mingi looks down at me, and I blink back up at him in silent question.

Despite the lack of love, there was an understanding between us. Neither of us enjoyed the arrangement we’d found ourselves in. Neither of us enjoyed being born into kingdoms split into centuries-long rivalry, or being used as political pawns to secure peace between lands. Yet, here we were, dressed to the nines in an attempt to save face.

“I’m going to speak with Lord Taeho,” he states. “Will you be—”

“I’ll be fine,” I interrupt, bowing my head and gliding to a corner of the room where I could remain as unseen as possible. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed me. I was no stranger to public scrutiny, but it was more apparent coming from people that were not my own. I settle into one of the gilded chairs at the end of the room where a handful of women were gathered to gossip. They seemed to be close in age, not much older than I was.

“I can’t imagine how Prince Mingi has gotten into this predicament,” one whispers all-too-loudly, her kohl-lined feline eyes darting between her friends and where I sat. “I knew Jeonsu was suffering from trade route closures, but a marriage?”

“I agree, it’s a dramatic attempt for them to claim our power as their own.”

“And, our prince.”

I roll my eyes, gratefully taking one of the champagne flutes from the offering waitstaff that floated by. Focusing more intently than ever on the bubbles that cling to the glass, I try to block out the sound of their scrutiny when a friendlier voice interjects.

“All by your lonesome?” he asks, and I turn to a bright-eyed Yunho that is looking down at me with hands in his pockets. His smile is charming, etched across his face in a warm welcome much unlike the others around him.

I shrug in response with a smile of my own, gesturing to the room with a wave of my hand. “I believe my betrothed is working the room, it would seem.”

Yunho’s gaze follows Mingi around the hall in a shared silence. Ever since the arrangement had been made between the kingdoms, Yunho had served as the prince’s right-hand man in assisting with my move to their palace. Unlike the rest of the awful personas in this kingdom, Yunho was a breath of fresh air. He spoke with emotion, passion that was unrivaled by the cold, harsh demeanors of the rest of the palace staff scared straight and the royal family that was all-too-hard to read.

“Look, now she’s quick to seduce the rest of our nobles,” another scoffs from the circle adjacent, the rest tittering in response.

“I can worry about myself,” I snap at them, already tired of their comments despite only just arriving. “I’d suggest you not gossip. It’s awfully unbecoming of you.”

Each of them grow pale, wide eyes blinking back at me in surprise that I refused to take their harassment in silence. They leave their seats almost immediately, hurrying deeper into the hall where other socialites awaited. Beside me, Yunho stifles a laugh as I rub at my temple.

“Oh, is this funny to you?” I scorn. Swallowing down the rest of my drink, I’m about to wave over the waitstaff to receive another when Mingi approaches me with a raised eyebrow.

“What just happened over here?” he asks harshly, eyes narrowed into slits.

“What?” I ask, gesturing to the gaggle of women that crowded near the refreshments table where Mingi once was. “The socialites of this kingdom can’t be told that they have no right to criticize another royal?”

“These are my people,” he barks, and I roll my eyes.

“As if they’re not practically about to be mine.”

“Hey,” Yunho attempts to interject, sensing the rising tension between the pair of us as he nervously runs a hand through his brunette hair. “Let’s not—”

“I’m not the one forcing you to marry me,” Mingi snaps in a hushed whisper, his jaw clenched as I rise from my seat to meet his glare.

“And yet, you find it your duty to parent me while we’re here.”

“Just leave,” is all Mingi replies, turning his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall with every measured breath, glancing over at me one last time with daggers in his eyes as he returns to mingling with his people.

His people. They would never be mine. This would never work.

My people would continue to suffer.

Suddenly, the room felt much too small. The towering pillars were suddenly too large, the floor too slick. The orchestra playing its waltz fought with the barrage of thoughts running through my mind, leaving little space for me to hear the muffled sound of Yunho asking if I was all right.

It was getting harder to breathe, the corset of my gown growing tighter with each breath. In desperate need of fresh air, I ran straight for the tall oak doors at the far end of the ballroom and into the courtyard with heaving gasps. My skin crawled from the desperate need to get out of sight. Glancing wildly around the gardens, I opted for the observatory at the other end of the palace grounds and hiked my gown with my hands as I darted across the cool grass.

* * *

I’d been sat in the glass-topped dome for what felt like an eternity, mindfully observing each star above and the rows of books that lined the walls around me. Much unlike the ballroom, the observatory was quiet. I’d not been familiar with the kingdom’s palace, only having visited a few times. Nonetheless, I remembered the observatory clearly, recounting it from when Yunho had first guided me on a tour of the grounds. I admired it for its exclusion from the main palace halls, tucked away in its own solace—much like I needed in this moment.

As my mind cleared, I sighed with the recognition that I’d have to answer a lot of questions when I’d returned—where I went, why I left, why I abandoned Prince Mingi in such a public setting. Questions I refused to think of answers for right this second.

The gilded iron doors to the observatory creak open and I turn in a panic, eyes wide as I prepare to back into one of the rows of bookshelves and make myself small.

Taking sight of Yunho, relief washes over me and I sigh, lowering my hand that clutched the front of my corset and slumping back into the sapphire velvet sofa that sat under the stars. He raises an eyebrow, almost as if he’s surprised to have found me here.

“Well, this is one place to hide,” he answers, his voice low as he locks the door behind him and saunters over to me. I look up at him wearily, silently grateful for his company in such a lonely palace. “Mingi asked that I look for you.”

“I don’t imagine that he asked you to do so right when I stormed off.”

“Well—no,” he replies, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “He actually hadn’t noticed for quite some time. I would have come immediately, but I assume you needed the space.”

A sudden bout of thunder rolls through the skies above, causing us both to crane our heads up towards the flashes of lightning that follow soon after.

“Great. Now even the heavens hate me for being uncooperative.” I bury my face in my hands with a muffled groan, and Yunho lets out a laugh—a strange sound in a place like this. He lowers onto his haunches before me, gently taking my hands away from my face and holding my chin in his.

“Chin up, now,” he scolds, and I offer a feeble smile in response. “It’s a lot of responsibility weighing on your shoulders. Both you and Mingi. There’s a lot of change happening, and I imagine it’s not easy.”

He stares at me for just a second too long, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as I shift my gaze back to the now turbulent weather outside.

“Seems like you brought the rain with you,” I joke evasively, gesturing to the glass panels and settling back into the sofa, knees hugged to my chest beneath the billowing gown. Yunho glances up in response, nodding once as he leans against the desk across from me with his legs crossed. Large hands crane over the edge of the desk, drumming his fingertips to fill the silence amidst the storm brewing.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get back for a while,” Yunho admits. “Though, at least you’re accounted for.”

“I suppose,” I nod and reach before me to pat the plush velvet. “No need to stand around. Come sit.”

As Yunho sits beside me, legs outstretched before him and hands behind his head, I take the opportunity to drink him in silently. He’d been my only real companion throughout the arrangement with Mingi so far. The only one that didn’t look at me with distaste or treat me as an inconvenience in a larger political ploy. We’d grown to become friends of sort in the past several weeks, able to joke and tell stories and simply be … human, if only for a little while.

Given the circumstances, I’d be a fool to not find him attractive in the grand scheme of things.

The thought instantly churns guilt at the pit of my stomach. I had no right to be attracted to him. He was the prince’s right-hand man. He was kind and amenable, qualities that were needed for such a job. He knew the predicament I was in with the arranged marriage. He was no stranger to playing his part.

“You’re really lost in thought tonight, aren’t you?” he pokes, chuckling as I blink the thoughts away and struggle to come up with a hasty excuse.

“Trying to find something to do to pass time while we’re in here,” I utter, averting his gaze that now seemed darker under the thunderous sky. “Maybe we should look at these …”

And so, time passes with us prodding through ancient maps, travel journals and court documents that span across the walls of the library. The storm rolls on, growing stronger and sealing the observatory off from the rest of the palace. Enough time goes by where I begin to feel constricted by the corset of my dress, and I refuse to mention it to Yunho until he notices for himself.

“Are you all right?” he asks, setting aside the journal in hand and taking note of the way that my breathing had grown labored. “Do you feel well?”

“I-I’m fine,” I lie, absentmindedly craning a hand behind me to tug at the lacing unsuccessfully. “Just—ah …”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, standing before me as his eyes scan over me oh, so slowly.

“It’s just—the corset,” I admit finally, cheeks flushed from a combination of remorse and the restriction of the boned fabric. “It gets uncomfortable after a while.”

“Oh,” Yunho answers, and realization dawns on him. “Oh.” He raises his eyebrows, stammering for a moment before forming a coherent sentence. “If you need to loosen it, please don’t feel ashamed. I rather you not pass out on me than worry about your dress being improper.”

“Thanks for that,” I reply hastily, struggling to reach a hand to the lacing crossed at my back. “I would have if I could reach the fasteners.”

“I can help,” Yunho volunteers almost immediately, and I can’t help but scoff at his enthusiasm that he quickly corrects. “I-I mean, if you need me to.”

“I do.”

With a soft smile of my own, I keep as calm as possible as he approaches me from behind, fingers outstretched and awaiting permission. The warmth from his body radiates onto mine, melding any coherent thoughts in my mind as I silently punish myself for noticing the feeling. Yunho requires no guidance as he threads his fingers through the lacing, unweaving the tight restraints as I finally feel the pressure release from my chest.

The corset expands loosely around my ribcage, forcing me to grip at its hem to prevent it from slipping. I turn, suddenly realizing that Yunho is much closer than I’d realized. He looks down at me, hand still lingering on my waist from where he finished helping me to come undone. The light in his eyes is gone, replaced with a kind of hunger I hadn’t seen in them before.

“Is that better?” he asks in a hushed voice. His voice crawls along my skin, and suddenly I’m all too aware of every inch of my skin and every hair that stands on end. I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his, watching as his trail down to my lips, my waist.

“Yes,” I whisper under the sounds of the storm outside.

The storm that isolates us from the rest of the kingdom. From any judgment, from our roles as bride-to-be and the prince’s confidante.

Yunho seems to notice this as well, his hand moving from my waist to lift my chin. He brushes his thumb against my cheek tantalizingly slow, a gasp slipping past my lips as I lean into his touch. An unspoken attraction dances around us, one that he fights against with great restraint as he pulls his hand away with a sigh. Even so, his lips are just mere inches from mine.

“We can’t,” he scolds softly, an obvious strain in his voice.

My mind races with filthy thoughts, suddenly wild at the idea of succumbing to the most carnal desires that ran between us in that moment. To hear him moan, have his hands around my throat.

But we can’t.

“Why not?” I urge in what almost sounds like a cry for help. My hands release the corset, the fabric now slouching dangerously low. Yunho’s eyes dart to the way it slips lower and lower, sitting just beneath my cleavage as a strangled breath slips past his lips.

“You are to be my princess,” he answers, “and I answer to the prince. There are lines I can’t cross.” He swallows. “No matter how tempting.”

Realization dawns on me as I arch an eyebrow, backing onto the sofa again just behind us. Crossing my legs, I pretend to not notice his hungry gaze as the fabric of the dress billows around me, eyes locked onto his as I let out a dry laugh.

“So, you are at the whim of the prince? Is that correct?” He nods once, eyes unmoving. “And I am to marry the prince, am I not?”

He nods again.

“Then you are under my command as much as you are under his.” His gaze shifts frantically to meet mine, confusion etched onto his face for a brief moment as he finally understands my suggestion. The thought of wielding power over the man before me ignited a certain kind of flame under my skin, one that crept along my veins and churned at my core. I leaned back into the plush velvet as a newfound confidence overcomes me. “Won’t you be a loyal subject to me?”

“I—” Yunho seems to wrestle something within himself for a brief moment, lowering himself onto a knee and bowing before me. As he lifts his head, his eyes sparkle with a desperate, silent plea. “Yes. Of course.”

“Then ruin me,” I command, taking his chin in my hand the way he did mine not long before. “Ravage me as if I were a common whore, right now.” My words are breathless, betraying the way I yearned to exercise control over the man on his knees before me.

“Is that what you want?” he asks tentatively, pressing a hand over mine as he lowers his gaze to the ground.

“That is an order.”

Save for the rain that thrums against the confines of the observatory, the room falls silent amidst the sound of our breathing. Yunho slides his hand down to my wrist, pausing for a moment before tightening his grip around it and shoving me back into the sofa. He’s almost unrecognizable, the gentle playfulness in his features completely replaced by a maniacal desire. His grin is lopsided as his other hand reaches for my waist, urging me against the cushions as he hovers over me.

Lowering his head to the crook of my neck, the breathy laugh that escapes from him sends a vibration down my spine, breath hitched in my throat. He traces the tip of his tongue tantalizingly slow from my collarbone to just behind my ear, and the sensation forces me to arch my back against his restraint with a soft gasp.

“Ruin you?” he asks, fingers pressing deeper into my waist. “Have you drunk off of my cock and writhing at the way it feels when I touch you, fill you up?”

My breath comes in shallow, ragged breaths as my eyes flutter shut. Whatever had overcome Yunho was unlike anything I’d ever seen from him—the gentle, kind boy I’d come to befriend. This was a monster of sorts, ravenous and insatiable. His hand snakes to my hair, pulling it back with a forceful yank so that I was forced to look at him.

“Is that what you want, princess?”

“I—” Words escape me as I pant, eyebrows furrowed at the ache rising between my legs.

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” I finally manage to get out, meeting his gaze.

“Good girl.”

Releasing his grip on my now tousled hair, Yunho presses his fingers into my cheeks, forcing my lips apart as he lowers himself to spit in my mouth. I gasp as the string of saliva slides down my tongue, swallowing it with an obedient whimper. His thumb brushes over my lower lip, every touch from him electrifying. The way he causes me to react earns a scoff as he straightens himself to pull the restrictive gown off of my body.

The night air caresses my skin, every pore raised from the cold mixed with hungry anticipation. His face is flushed, his chest heaving with each breath as he reaches to roll the sleeves of his dress shirt. Lowering himself back onto his knees, he yanks me towards the edge of the sofa, now bare before him. Color creeps to my cheeks, something that doesn’t go unnoticed as he tuts at the sight of me already dripping under his touch.

“Shy now, are we?” he lilts, broad hands holding my thighs apart as he drinks in every sight of me. I whimper under his touch, weak in my attempt to pull my legs back together. “I want to see exactly how I make you feel.” Extending a hand upwards, he pries my mouth open again with two fingers, relishing in the way I latch onto them like clockwork. Now coated with saliva, he groans at the sound as he slips them back out of my mouth and towards my cunt.

“Hold steady now, pretty girl.”

With painfully slow pressure, he presses his fingers against my clit. The sensation overwhelms me, and it’s only then that I realize how desperate I was to be under his touch. He traces circles languidly, peppering kisses along the inside of my thigh. My body jerks and quivers under him, and I bite my tongue to conceal the lewd plea that was about to escape me. In one swift motion, he dips his tongue between my folds in long, greedy strokes.

“Oh—” I cry out in surprise, grabbing at his hair as he buries his tongue deeper into me. Yunho hums in disapproval, pinning my wrists to either side of me as he quickens his pace. A familiar knot begins to build at my core, one that ebbs and flows as he flicks his tongue against my clit. Pleasure clouds my mind as my vision blurs, my chest heaving with the impending climax.

Just as I’m about to surrender, he stops.

My protests are silenced before they escape, Yunho finding a seat beside me on the sofa and pulling me towards him so that one of my legs is draped over his, on full display for him once more. He slides his fingers back between my folds, pumping them vigorously as I let out a string of moans. His free hand slips around me, wrapping around my neck so that I was pressed firmly against his chest.

“You sound delicious,” he mewls, his grip tightening around my neck as I struggle to maintain my posture. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to hear those noises come out of that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“P-Please, Yunho,” I beg—actually beg—as the wave begins to rise in my stomach for the second time. “I’m going to—”

“Not yet,” he coaxes, pulling me back against him with his hand still firmly wrapped around my neck. Slipping his fingers out of me, he brings them back to my mouth. Craning my head to the side, my eyes lock on his as he relishes in the way I taste myself off of his fingers.

He lifts my leg off of his, opting to pick me up and spread me across the desk across from the sofa with an animalistic groan. Yunho’s eyes never leave mine as he unfastens the buckle on his belt, leaning over me again to wrap my wrists between the leather and loop it through the latch on the desk drawer above my head. I raise an eyebrow at how quickly it was done, leaning into the observation.

“I take it you’ve done this before?” I pry, and he lets out another dark chuckle.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” he admits, lips curling into a sensual grin. He reaches to pull his cock free from his trousers, gazing over at me with hooded eyes. I watch as he runs his hand along his length, the sight fueling a burning pain between my legs. Friction did little to ease the ache, earning a scoff from Yunho at the way I pathetically fought to rub my thighs together.

“So eager,” he chides, his hand’s pace quickening as his own breathing grows ragged. “Can’t I look at you for just a while longer? You look so pretty like this.”

“Just fuck me,” I order, knees lifted as I drag my heels on the desk’s surface. He raises an eyebrow, dropping his hand so that he could place his palms on either side of my head. His voice is low, alluring as I feel the weight of his erection press into my core. The thought of his cock covered in me causes me to groan, wrists jerking against their restraints.

“How do you think your prince would like knowing that I defiled his darling bride-to-be?” he asks, biting down on my collarbone and earning a drawn-out moan in response. “Begging me to fuck her?”

“I don’t care,” I plead hastily, nearly at the brink of tears out of sheer frustration from waiting to be filled. I’m about to protest further when he shoves himself into me in one swift motion, our bodies jerking forward as a collective groan fills the room.

Yunho’s lips finally capture mine in a passionate kiss, a fight of tongues and teeth as he grips onto the edge of the desk with white knuckles. He thrusts into me relentlessly, pleasure and pain thrumming against my veins as I cry out against his lips. The tension of weeks of gentle touches and subtle glances finally crescendos in a messy union.

He finally pulls his mouth away from mine, gulping down air as sweat slicks his hair. I wriggle against the belt around my wrists, desperate to drag my nails down his back and feel every muscle move against mine. Yunho notices my impatience and lets out a ragged moan, shifting off of me just long enough to turn me over so that my wrists were now twisted in their binds. I gasp for breath and will myself to keep my climax at bay as he spreads my legs open for him again. Thrusting back into me, his pace grows erratic and heavy as he glides a hand down my back, a fistful of hair forcing me to crane my neck back.

“You take my cock so well, princess,” he manages to get out between groans, and I can feel him twitching at the sight as he buries himself deeper into me. “Every last bit of me.”

I let out a whimper at the thought of what a passer-by might have seen, the way Yunho had me bound to the desk and on display for him as he continued to fuck me senseless. He mutters sweet nothings between his strokes, reminding me that he had me bare before him exactly as I’d asked—like a common whore. The force of his thrusts causes me to fall onto my elbows, eyes rolling back and mouth hanging open as his twitching grew more noticeable.

The heat in my stomach becomes unbearable as I gasp for air, my hearing growing muffled and vision blurred as my climax finally approached its brink. Yunho picks up on this, thrusting even more forcefully into me as I cry out his name in a long, languid moan. He slows to a stop, pulling out of me and urging me to flip back over as I face him for the final time.

The sight of him towering over me satiates an endless craving, the way his deep brown eyes were filled with a raging lust as he positioned himself back at my entrance. His hair stuck to his forehead and his clothes were disheveled, soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin. He looked absolutely delectable.

He reaches for his length again, pumping as fast as he possibly could with a hand still clinging to the desk for support. I watch as he edges himself to the brink of orgasm, struggling to catch my own breath as he squeezes his eyes shut with a pathetic moan. With one final stroke, he releases himself onto me, the spoils of his efforts covering my abdomen in thick, white streaks.

We both stay like that for a moment, fighting to gasp down air and return to baseline. When we do, Yunho looks at me with a sudden realization, reaching to unfasten my binds and loop his belt back into its loops. I sit up with a sore grunt, Yunho brushing the hair out of my eyes with a gentle stroke of his thumb. He offers a strange smile, one that I mirror as we both understand what just happened.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, princess,” he finally says, earning a raised eyebrow from me—as if he weren’t filling up every inch of me just moments prior. “Would hate for the prince to find out that you’ll be thinking of me every time he fucks you from now on.”

With a lewd smile, he reaches for my gown.

#yunho #jeong yunho #ateez #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #yunho fic #yunho fanfic #smut #yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho x reader

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novlr · 1 year ago

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A quick guide to animal symbolism:

Animals have a long history of symbolism that varies between cultures and customs. As literary tropes develop, some animal symbolism has become universally recognised in the western literary canon. Here are some examples you can use in your writing to give subtext, develop motifs, or promote your thematic content.

🐥 Birds: freedom, hope, escape 🦁 Lions: strength, courage, royalty 🐶 Dogs: loyalty, devotion, protection 🐱 Cats: independence, stealth, mystery 🐺 Wolves: intelligence, nature, wildness 🦊 Foxes: cleverness, cunning, deception 🐍 Snakes: temptation, evil, deceit 🦋 Butterflies: transformation, change, new beginnings 🦉 Owls: wisdom, knowledge, mystery 🦅 Eagles: strength, freedom, nobility ◾ Ravens: death, mystery, the unknown 🕊️ Doves: peace, love, purity 🐻 Bears: resurrection, strength, power, new life 🤘 Bulls: virility, sovereignty, wealth

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navydoves · 5 months ago

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I know we aren’t supposed to be doing this, but…

✎ᝰ summary: you’ve fallen for the enigma prince xavier and the enigma prince xavier has fallen for you. there are certain rules and expectations put into place for royals like you two, but rules are uptight and both of you want to overstep those invisible boundaries to get closer to each other.

✎ᝰ cw: first time/virginity loss for both, lowkey yearning/pining, fluff/smut, xavier is needy, xavier is a lover boy, slow burn, sensual, royals getting friskaayyy, lots of praise, no Y/N ✎ᝰ wc: 12.6k

✎ᝰ a/n: xavier is my main so i’m trying to do him justice here with my ass writing skills. a lot of the dialogue is very conversational, you'll see what i mean. also not proof read very well so pls excuse mistakes, i’ll make changes as i find them 😢

castles were dreary. people gawked at the tall spires of his home, pointing and taking pictures to preserve the moment they were graced by the presence of the philos royal family. it was laughable sometimes, how commoners and civilians revered the crown without knowing how suffocating it actually was.

yet, to xavier, he saw it as nothing more than his life duty, his reason of birth, the sole reason of his existence, it was to be suffocated. but he made do.

soldiers trained from puberty had no other direction in life than to fight and bleed, and they made do.

forgers took years to mine and quarry within deep caverns, battling off beast eating men only to go back home and scrape their fingertips off just to make weapons. no blacksmith ever complained, they made do.

even those born modestly within domestic walls and loving families sometimes succumbed to the tragedy off illness or crime but had no other choice but to make do. so xavier, born with a diamond spoon in his mouth while covered in scarfs of stain, the only heir to the philos throne, had to make do too. his life was built with the promise that he would gain great power and true nobility once his time came, and until then, the world had to wait on him hand and foot to assure that in every singular way possible, he was ready to rule. just because it was suffocating meant nothing, not when you had such security in your life. he built this mature mindset from young age, and he was often praised for his ability to suck things up and deal with it. it was an unspoken rule of being a royal. you deal, you accept, you fight, you rule, simple.

this frustrating way of living was what he had to deal with every single day of pompous life. the rest of his existence felt mundane and scripted, bound with endless vexation until he perished. and to think that would be hundreds upon hundreds of upon hundreds of years from now. but, if he never breathed in the first place, how could he become suffocated? this wasn't torture, it was normal. yet, despite it all, he started feeling differently. no revelation woke him up in the middle of the night to tell him the truth of his destiny and no mage showed up at his door to guide him on a mystical journey to find the contentment he never knew. no, it was much simpler than that; it took something much simpler to make him feel differently.

a face... a voice, a person all together. a new addition in his life that broken his monochromatic mindset and added a bit of vibrancy. people often say that someone brightened up their life when meeting someone special, but the blinding xavier could say that someone for once dimmed his vision so he could see properly. all he saw was light at the top of his tower, but slowly, his vision became less distorted as he became more grounded. your face, your voice, was what was grounding him.

from the day you met at an impromptu gala, hosted by xavier's parents to encourage liveliness in the city after prolonged battle, to you and him finally holding each other's hands away from prying eyes, he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. nothing about his future or obligations changed, so it almost shocked him how easily dread left him whenever he was with you. you must be that powerful, he thought.

a familiar fluttering sensation of his heart was present every time he thought of you, and that feeling was only amplified whenever he got the chance to see you in person. letters served terrible in capturing your true eccentricity and wonder but that's all he had to live on when he could think of no excuse to invite you over. you lived several kingdoms away and the time it took to prepare travel to and fro felt unnecessary and unfair to the both of you when you had busy schedules. on top of that, neither of you wanted to let your hovering parents know that you had actually taken a liking to another royal. the drama, gossip, and rumors it could cause your families would potentially break you two apart and that was the last thing either of you wanted.

but today was xavier's lucky day, as well as yours. a few families from more isolated areas were invited to spend the next few days with the philos royal family as a way to discuss trade routes through their kingdoms. thankfully, your family was one of the few invited for the part of the week. so rather, it was xavier's lucky day for the next several days. when the news broke to him it took everything in his power to not grin widely at his parents. he was usually a stoic to them so breaking that face would cause for interest he didn't want.

behind closed doors, however, he spent his time meticulously planning out an outfit for each day you would spend in his castle. he knew your favourite colours, and whether they complimented the rich purple that was his family's colour or not, he would make it work. this was him making do, in a sense. today he wore his signature regal purple suit with blue accents, the fabric, woven from the finest silk and velvet. his tailored doublet was also rich in color and clung to his form, adorned with intricate gold stitching. he wore a low collar trimmed in blue velvet which matched the same shade of blue on his leather belt, tightened around with a gold buckle embossed with his family crest. the pants were similar in style and embraced the same regal purple, with gold stitching that went down to his noir, shiny shoes. xavier never felt the need to impress anyone until you. people were already impressed with just his presence alone, but he wanted to impress you in a way that made your eyes only look in his direction, only see him.

he fixes the collar of undershirt one last time before deciding he looked presentable enough for you. his heart had that familiar erratic rhythm that always reminded him how you've changed him, and he couldn't adore it more. with a small amount of anxiety in his stomach, he steps out his dressing room to greet the servants who patiently waited from him out in the hall. he had to shoo them away to mend himself for once.

xavier gives them a polite smile as they begin to lead him down the wing of the castle and into a neighboring wing where most social activities were held. he could already hear the gentle murmurs and small bouts of laughter that came from the several families that was gathered with his own. the flutter in his heart and the anxiety in his stomach only grew stronger as he neared the adjacent door of the ballroom and then flared when he caught a glimpse of you by your family. your family's colour was blue, there was a reason his suit had these accents today. xavier steps in and is immediately greeted by several nobles who did nothing but be pretentious in their greetings. it was second nature to humor them and mingle for a bit, but today he was less patient, more determined. he wriggled around a few families, throwing in a few shallow bows and smiles before he got up to your mother, a short woman with much indignation running through her veins. xavier gave her a much more polite, venerated greeting than anyone else that day, but it was only to find his way to you, the girl a few feet away and chatting with a king from some western kingdom. when your eyes catch his presence for a moment a tingle erupts in your stomach. god, how you waited for him. you excuse yourself from the conversation with the king and turn to xavier, fully, a shy smile growing on your lips while you bow to him. "prince xavier, i was waiting for you," you chirp.

xavier only stares for a few moments, his eyes tracing over your form and the beautiful modest blue dress you were wearing. he smiles tenderly. "drop the formalities princess," he hums, "it's just you and i here." you chuckle softly and shake your head.

"well, actually, there are several others here." "to me... it's just you and i." you blush and sigh. you always knew xavier to be a bit of a flirt but lately, both in letters and in person, he's been upping the ante and testing the waters between the two of you. you found it exhilarating. he gently reaches out and lazily caresses the side of your hand with his finger before quickly pulling back. it was the most he could do at the moment without being too obvious. "i told you to just call me xavier, nothing more." "i know... but if someone overhears our informality then... you know we can't do that with our families near." "i want to hear you call me my name, though." "later." "when is later?" "why are you so stubborn?" "because you deal with it and because you like it." you felt your mouth go still into silence at his words. both statements were true. you dealt with his stubbornness, and you also liked dealing with it. it was quite the opposite from the courteous personality xavier had with everyone else, so you almost reveled in his juvenile antics. he smirked slightly and leaned in carefully while focusing his eyes on yours. "i guess i'm right."

you turn your head to the side and away from his. his teasing proximity made a gentle heat rise up into your cheeks and the sight of your flustered state made xavier flustered himself. he pulls back and clears his throat before averting his gaze awkwardly. he wasn't sure what to say when his heart felt like it would come out of his throat, but thankfully you spoke instead. "i believe my mother and i are staying in the east wing of your castle for the week. despite my visits, i haven't seen those rooms until now." you remark while turning your gaze back to xavier. he notices your attention on him again and reciprocates. "those rooms are usually reserved for when we have guests sleeping over. since you've never actually had a visit longer than a few hours... you've just never seen those areas." you nod in acknowledgement and smile. "do you think... we'll be busy for the week?" you ask softly. xavier eyes take a hard blink at you, as if you said something incredulous, and he takes a moment to respond. "what do you mean?" "like... with the meeting on trade routes and such. since our parents do most negotiations and commerce, you think we'll be just as busy?" oh, that's what you meant, he thought. xavier rubs his lips together and considers your words in his head. his parents don't usually force him into meetings that weren't absolutely necessary. they had a good sense of trust that whatever xavier needed to do would be done-and they were usually right. although, xavier had a rather strange feeling that that trust would be more-less betrayed this week, given the beautiful distraction before him. "i hope not. i wasn't the one who called for this gathering so i'd like to play as little part in it as possible. i'd rather spend my time with you." "what if i'm always in meetings and i play a big part in the gathering?" xavier's lips twitch into a small smile. "then i guess im right there with you."

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feasts were one very good way of welcoming people into your home, and royals knew that best. the kitchen had had already prepared a lion's den worth of meals for the day, and only that day. only the stars above knew how much time and effort they put into making fresh cuisines and delicacies for a royal's sensitive palate. they made do. xavier watched as several servants rushed out from the halls with trays of food balanced in their palms, ready to arrange them onto the oakwood tables in the dining room. he and his parents were the first to arrive to the dinner ceremony to ensure everything was up to par for a social gathering before the next few days of work. the scent of various steaming dishes filled the air of the room, which made for an invitation to anyone who walked by.

smoked salmon, vegetable terrine, roasted lamb, truffles, brie, even sparkling champagne that was harder to come by nowadays due to import issues was served. many different meals were laid out onto the three lengthy tables within the dining room, a true refined look and very warm welcome to the multiple guests. xavier's parents already took their seats at the end of two of the three tables, and xavier's seat was already designated to be at the end of the third table. but instead of sitting already, like his parents, he stood idle as he waited for the families to start rolling in for dinner, he wanted to ensure that you would sit next to him. he feigned fixing his clothes for the sake of not getting a small scolding, but that bluff didn't have to lost for long as nobles started pouring in.

chatter and distraction were already beginning but xavier had his eyes set on finding you, finding your gentle blue beauty in the midst of all the colours piling up at the door. and when his eyes finally laid on yours from across the room, he smiles. the time separated from you these past few hours since your mingling in the ballroom felt like an ache to him and just like magic, it was gone now.

and despite the various empty chairs before you, when you caught eyes with him, you automatically knew to where to sit. in poise, you walk around the other two tables with your hands delicately to your front. you knew xavier was practically staring at you but you couldn't hold such prolonged eye contact like he could sometimes. "evening," he whispers once your form was right next to his. he takes the sides of the chair next to his throne and pulls it out for you before gesturing you to sit. "this is your spot, don't leave for your mother." the straightforwardness of xavier's words already make you flush for a little bit and you could see the sudden apologetic look in his eyes. "sorry, i didn't mean that rudely. i just... would like you to be near." you laugh softly and squint your eyes at him rather affectionately. without hesitation, you took a seat in the chair he pulled out for you and then look up at him. your quietly adoring eyes made xavier feel a little weak, and it was only then he decided to sit. "no worries, i take no offense. besides, i see my mother too often and you not as often enough. i'll take advantage of the time we have together."

you look at the array of dishes splayed out in front of you on the table and suddenly feel a bout of hunger within your stomach. traveling and socializing was no easy feat and took more out of you than you would like to admit. xavier noticed the way you eyed the aromatic food before you, but he could barely manage to speak any words due to the thumping of his heart. you were so beautiful in every right. you were so colorful to him. so warm. you dimmed everything before him and forced him to only focus on you. you shifted your gaze back at xavier and immediately felt the aura of his gaze. it made you shiver but you returned it in equal. something about this prince was so enigmatic but so revelatory. with each visit you could feel yourself becoming closer and closer with him, and you wondered where the two of you were at now. "prince xavier,"

"xavier," he corrected. you purse your lips.

"prince... xavier, which one of these is your favourite dish? i feel famished if im going to be honest. i want to try your recommendations." he frowns, but points to a pot. "braised chicken. it's the hottest meal we have but the most satiating. there are spices you can try alongside if you're like me and the broth doesn't do you much good." you look toward the pot furrow your brows while refraining from a laugh. "so... it's the hottest meal you have, and you want me to try it with spices? are you trying you to get me to sweat?" you already are princess. he thinks. you and i have been both sweating since earlier. "no, i have no nefarious intentions, but you asked me for recommendations and i gave them to you. y'know, if anything, you might be the true stubborn one between us."

you let out an amused sigh and nod.

"alright, braised chicken with spices then."

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once everyone chose a respective seat at a respective table, dinner service finally, actually began. royals weren't ones to "dig in", it was rather impolite, so they served themselves cordially and with composure, always putting the need of their elbow partner before them. you didn't need to worry about that, though, since xavier insisted on serving you himself. every cut of meat and slather of spices was done by him in his own way. small delicacies and even refills on your drinks was taken care of by his quick, knowing hands. you couldn't tell if he was trying to impress you or take care of you or both, but there were no complaints on your part. "so... you're sure it's not that spicy?" you ask while peering down at your small bowl of braised chicken with ignited broth done by the spices xavier generously added for you. "to me it's not, i enjoy the burn." "that's really not helping. i don't want to make a fool of myself if my throat gets itchy or my eyes start watering." xavier smirks at you and lets out air through his nose. why do you feel the need to care what other people think right now? you were with him, he had your full attention, and you had his. "i can help, then," he murmurs while taking your spoon and scooping up a small serving of chicken from your bowl. this would be regarded as improper and invasive from any noble, but lucky him, all of them were too engrossed in dinner. he blew on the spoon gently before moving it toward your face, down to your lips. "eat, it's good i promise." you blinked at him for a moment before nodding shyly and leaning in to take a bite. xavier domesticity almost made you forget the heat and spice of the food you were being served, but the flavors on your mouth brought you back. it did burn a bit, yes, but it wasn't as bad as you expected it to be. xavier watched your eyes light up in delight as a morsel of food finally made its way into your body. he propped his chin up on his palm and smiled with low-lidded eyes. god, he loved taking care of you. "taste good?" he asked softly. you nod quickly and pat your lips dry with a napkin.

"very good, the spices really do do a good job enhancing the flavor. wow..." you take xavier's wrist gently with your fingers and move it back down to your bowl. you smile and tilt your head with a silent question. "but... does it taste better when you feed me?" stars above, help me. "i'll do this all night if i have to. as long as you leave this room no longer so hungry."

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pink and yellow, those were the colours he chose to wear for the second day of your visit. today his suit was one of silk and brocade, clipped to midway of his waist and fitted nicely against his toned form. the blazer itself was a soft blush colour with gold embroidery swirling in vines and delicate florals at the ends of his sleeves. his undershirt was a pale yellow with a relaxed high collar that gave him a refined, easy look. his back-pockets of his pants matched the theme humble florist with their own flowery design on them. the actual pants, though, pants were plain in light pink and had a bit wider cut today. a simple gold chain hangs from his belt loop and connects to the back, making for an eye-catching accessory. the vibe here was delicate and approachable, easygoing but elegant. he brushed down the sides of his blazer in the mirror and nodded once done scrutinizing himself. the thing about xavier was, he would spend all this time refining and polishing himself for you through his clothes but would never touch his face. he liked going bare and natural without any type of hairstyle or skin up-keep. he wanted you enjoy him in his natural state, and clothes didn't really fall into that category. unlike his handsomeness, clothes could always be altered, tailored, or discarded entirely. once satisfied, xavier turns to face the door of his empty dressing room and walks out with an air of confidence. in routine, he greets the servants out in the hall and walks with them to one of the ballrooms in the same neighboring wing he was in yesterday. the families had been split into different rooms for different topics of discussion, and he had no way of knowing if you were in the ballroom he was designated in. he could only hope.

the clamor of yesterday and the hushed conversation of today was starkly different between the families. supper was filling, and everyone quickly retired once their rest and digest reflexes kicked in. walking you back to your room discreetly felt a little magical because it was just you two, and unfortunately, the furthest xavier could go was just right outside your guest room.

even in the dim light of the evening, your gentle blue beauty and inviting silhouette still managed to tug at his heartstrings. why did he have to leave?

yet, despite his hopefulness, he couldn’t appreciate you even from afar due to your absence in his designated ballroom. the excitement bubbling in his chest quickly deflated and all that was left was a disappointed, bitter feeling. it would be unseemly to leave now, now that a few nobles within the room already noticed him began their greetings with philos's perfect prince. despite the gentle, amicable facade xavier flipped on for face sake, and despite his warm, hospitable voice, his tight smile and ridged walk gave away every bit of annoyance he felt in the moment. he took his appointed seat in the room, the white and blue throne with a golden star balanced atop of it, and barely spared a glance toward the faces in the room.

how long was he supposed to be in here, forced to socialize and talk about commerce that, frankly, he didn’t give a fuck about. “making do” was his entire existence, sucking it all up was what he was made for, but this, you, was something he could not afford to just… brush aside for the sake of it. you’re not as shallow as his royal duties, why would he ever think of sucking this up?

his thoughts almost made him stand and excuse himself to the hall but it was your sudden appearance into the ballroom that halted him from doing so. he watched you politely enter and hold quick eye contact with him before turning your attention to the other families around you. you didn’t want to make it obvious exactly why you were here alone, without your mother.

xavier’s heart thumped erratically in his ears. all sense of distress and hostility vanished from his person and all that was left was within his chest was a deep, abiding sense of fondness. he could read your intentions so clearly right now and it reassured him that you wanted him, coveted him, with the same need he had. he relaxed in his seat and watched you take your own seat across from him. the table was wide and you were far from an arm's length away from him, but he wasn't gonna complain right now. not when you clearly went out of your way to see him.

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"you were staring at me the entire time. i've come to learn you're not a discreet person, your highness." "you were the one who decided to sit directly in my field of vision, princess. why blame me when it was clearly you trying to distract me?" "i go out of my way to convince my mother to let me visit another ballroom and im met with scoldings and accusations for it. you're quite insufferable." xavier lets out a small, low chuckle at your words. he loved bantering with you like a kid, it brought him satisfaction to see how informal the two of you could get. "let's take this outside then, princess." "... you want to fight?" he did not, in-fact, want to fight. instead, you found yourself following xavier to a small, outdoor garden alcove at on the bottom floor of the castle. the roof and walls were decorated in stained glass that spilled lines of rainbows down onto the beautiful gard of forget-me-nots—your favourite flower. you gasp softly and scurry over to a batch to catch a whiff of the new blossoms. no garden you've ever seen seeded only one type of flower or crop; it was always an arrangement of various buds for both aesthetic reasons and the health of the flora. you stand straight and turn your head over to xavier with a delicate and doting look on your face.

"did you... do this for me?" xavier's tucks his chin in and looks down, he smiles to himself with shyness blossoming within his chest. he strides over to where you stood and plucked a singular forget-me-not from the row, his fingers rolling the thin stem of the flower before placing it behind your ear, nestled within the strands of your hair. "to see you smile like that, yes." xavier responds quietly as if someone else threatened to listen to his endearing words. he cups your cheek with his hand and strokes the skin there with his thumb. xavier usually wasn't this bold, but the privacy of the alcove and the growing butterflies between you two made him throw caution to the window and indulge himself in your radiance. you felt bashful, your warm neck and ears and dilated pupils gave that away, but you refused to lean aside. this was everything you wanted, and nothing could peel you away from the admiring gaze of xavier. you turn your head to the side slightly and press a very gentle kiss to the curve of his palm. the tender action caused xavier's eyes to widen search yours eagerly. this was the first kiss you've given him, and it didn't matter to him if it was quick or on his palm, you kissed him. xavier retracts his hand from your face and looks down at the skin there like you just turned it into gold. he brings his hand up to his lips and kisses the spot you just pecked while keeping his intense, devoted gaze onto you. "prince xavier..." you whisper, not sure what to even follow up with. "it's xavier, princess." xavier reaches out again and strokes your hair delicately, a smile plays on his lips. "and yes? are you surprised with how much i want you? you shouldn't be. if only i could truly show you how you meant to me..." you furrow your brows and glance down to the garden floor. you didn't want to ever assume what xavier meant because he was always too cryptic and opaque, but with each passing gesture of his, you couldn't help but feel the electricity that radiated off of him. you wondered if he could feel the heat coming off of you as well. "we're already pushing the limits of our companionship, your highness. even that... peck, it would've gotten me scandalized by the ton." "and yet, here you are, standing and un-scandalized." your worries rolled off of xavier's back like water. he couldn't care less about what scandals the two of you encountered, he only had to save face for his family. but for himself? it was starting to feel like being your companion came before being a prince.

he continues to trace the outlines of your face with his eyes before his gaze landed on your lips. what he would give to just press them against his and let you feel for yourself how anguished he was for you. but you would be against it, he knew, because you still worried about the implications of it all. you couldn't be as untroubled as xavier was, but yet, you knew you wanted the same thing he did. so when his index finger trails down your cheek and to your jaw, down your neck and over your collarbones, off to the side and then down to your hip, you didn't stop him. you shudder softly and wet your lips. "i didn't tell you earlier, but you look beautiful today," xavier murmurs while glancing down to your lips again. you choke up at how smooth his voice was. he was too fucking good at swooning you. "thank you. you look nice today as well. pink compliments you really well." xavier smiles widely at your praise. finally, you noticed the effort he put into looking good for you, but he wasn't satisfied yet. "so what, my face is hideous?" "i...i never said that!" you exclaim. he laughs. "then say otherwise." "huh?" "tell me i'm handsome, tell me how good i look princess." you stare blankly at xavier for a few moments and furrow your brows. you simultaneously wanted to indulge him but also be defiant in such a cheeky request, although he wasn't gonna let that happen. seeing the incredulity on your face, xavier squeezes your hip with a firm hand and smiles. "say it princess, ~ " he sings. you blush immensely. "you're very handsome, your highness." that's my girl.

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today he wore a fine wool and silk suit with a deep grey fitted jacket and black loose pants. the cuffs of his sleeves were also black, as well as the buttons, his shoes, and the undershirt he wore. a small red rose as nestled into the pocket of his suit, and on the outside of the pocket was a white embroidered design of his family's crest. this might've been his most cohesive outfit yet, with his shiny silver hair and all to compliment it.

unfortunately, the time spent between you two was few far and between. you had your moments of conversation and indulgence, but duty often called you away from each other and into councils neither of you cared for. the dinners, where you now only ate braised chicken with spices, and the strolls, where you both hid out in the gardens, became your daily routines and the highlight of your days.

still though, there was more to be had. you had to do everything in slight secrecy to fend off suspicion from others, but when alone, you could feel the tension simmering between the two of you. xavier especially, a man who was thought so much restraint in his life, found himself being tested time and time again. even just a little kiss, a little something could satiate him, but with nobles running around at all times... was the risk worth it? after the morning meal where your mother forced you to socialize with families she made friends with over the last few days, you left the dining room and headed off to your designated ballroom. there were treaties being drafted between certain merchants with ruling families, and the ratification process was just beginning. there only had to be one signature from each family to qualify, and for the sake of it, you would write down your family name instead of having your mother write it. but once that was done? you were home free for the day. this wasn't your kingdom, castle, and these duties weren't necessarily yours to fulfill. in fact, most "families" here simply comprised of the king and queen of that family showing up as representation for their entire kingdom. meaning, in a sense, you weren't needed as much as your mother was. once you managed to get inside the ballroom, your next objective was getting out of their as fast as possible. a little wiggle here, a small bow there, and stroke of a pen was all it took to satisfy everyone and yourself. you excused yourself from the table and readied yourself to leave the suffocating ballroom you've been trapped in for the last few days. as you reach the grand doors, though, your favourite silver-haired, dashing prince walks in with a smile. he sees you and halts, his hand coming up as a gesture asking you to stop as well. "where are you headed?" xavier asks with a slightly concerned look on his face. "i'm done with my part for the day, my mother is handling the rest." you reply, both happy you didn't have to work and resigned that you couldn't gawk at him. xavier furrows his brows and frowns. "where will you go then?" he murmurs.

"to my room, most likely, or maybe i'll take a stroll around the castle and ask the kitchen for early dessert," you tease, "why? you'll miss me?"

"yes." you're taken aback by the quickness and conviction in xavier's voice. you've never heard him speak so... assuredly of something. he steps forward and cups your face similarly to how he did the day before, except this time you retract. there were many eyes around and as much as it hurt you to dismiss him like this, you wanted to preserve what you had. xavier's hand fell slowly as the rejection settled into his chest. he felt hurt, almost a little burned that you would do that so outwardly. "princess-" "there are people around. please, i... i want to protect you and i, okay? don't take it to heart, i... i need you too." his eyes soften but he nods gently. he glances up at the others packed into the room and let out an exhausted sigh. he hated this, he hated the crown right now, everything about his regal and royal life prevented him from you and it frustrated him to no end. he can't make do with this like he's been taught, he just... can't. the irritation welling up in his chest quelled once he glanced back down and saw your reassuring look. it was like every time he felt any sort of resentment, any sour and ugly feeling, you would cure his ailment with just a smile. "please wait for me, princess. i'll be done here as soon as possible." you nod curtly. i'll wait forever. ----------------------------------------------

and wait you did. you headed back into your guest room and decided to wind down with a warm shower and a redress. the fluffy yellow dress you wore only had a few hours in the spotlight today as you stepped into the silky fabric of your loungewear dress. the midnight blue of the slip fit comfortably and hugged just enough to secure. there were thin, adjustable straps on your shoulders that lead to a subtle V-neckline with a delicate lace trim. the fabric is smooth and lightweight, which is just what you liked when you had these rare moments of doing nothing all day. the slip dress itself went down to about mid-thigh, but the black robe you wrapped on top of it went down to just below your knees for modesty. the combination of your warm shower, breakfast still in your stomach, and the loungewear conditioned your brain into exhaustion. the soft-felt was right there and you couldn't help but climb atop of it and take a rest. a rest that would last several hours. when you stirred away and checked the time on the clock on the nightstand you almost jumped out of your skin. it was a quarter past ten (10:15) and you had slept the whole day away. your first thought was immediately about xavier. had you made him wait? was he looking for you? maybe he walked in on you sleeping and decided to let you rest? you felt an immense amount of guilt and regret hit your chest and you fly off the bed. screw it this, screw it all, you thought while putting on your slippers. all these meetings and treaties and debates and councils and everything had tired you down to the point of hibernation, and it directly caused you to neglect the limited you had with xavier. you rush to the door of your room and open it to peek out into the hall. the lights on the ceilings were dimmed which was the castle's indication that activity was dying down and the royal family was already retired. you let out a defeated sigh. how could you be so negligent? he asked you to wait for him and you didn't. you didn't wait for him, and over a pathetic reason too. before you could wallow in self-pity, your stomach made its own thoughts clear. you hadn't eaten since morning. your body felt a bit weak from the lack of food and you knew you couldn't go back to sleep like this. not with this amount of guilt weighing you down anyway. you sigh and step out your room and walk down the hall to try and find a servant or maid to help you out in you scavenge. your feet were slow and dragged out behind you but you soon near one of the kitchens within the wing you were in. before you could step in, a shiver runs up your back and immediately you sensed someone's prescene. "princess!" xavier's voice yelped from not far behind. he scurried down the ballroom he came out of and toward your direction with a hurting look on his face. you follow the same and rushed toward him with guilt plastered on yours. "im so sorry!" "im sorry!" you both yelp out an apology. you take a step back and knit your eyebrows together. "w...what are you apologizing for?" you asked. "i left you, im sorry. i told you i'd come to see you soon but my parents wanted to me stay with the families until all the treaties were signed. it took, all. damn. day. im so sorry." your mouth was a little agape upon hearing his words. the confused look was then reciprocated by xavier. "wait, why are you apologizing for?" "i... i told you i'd wait for you, but i ended up sleeping all day after i left the ballroom. i thought that maybe you didn't want to disturb me and left. i... felt so guilty." the both of you look at each other in astonishment for a few long moments. xavier was the first to crack with a soft laugh that progressed into a hearty one. you continued to stare up at him, evaluating the absurdity of the situation you two created for yourself. "so... we just... both lived today feeling guilty?"

xavier stops laughing for a moment and smiles adoringly at you. his eyes shone down at you with an almost childish glee. your unmoving expression only added to his amusement. you were everything his heart needed.

"that's how i know you're meant for me."

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this was your third bowl of braised chicken with spices tonight. finding you in the hall at that precise moment was serendipitous for the both of you. not only for the matter of clearing the air and expelling guilt, but also for the fact that xavier could request the leftovers of meals from supper. he brought you back to your room and finally fully stepped inside with you. with his parents asleep, the visiting families in their rooms, and staff also retired, it was just you two.

xavier did more than just step in, actually, he made himself comfortable. you were sat on the edge of your bed eating and he pulled up a chair beside you, not wanting to invade the intimate space of your bed. he watched you eat with tender eyes as you explained your side of the story for the day, and you did the same as he complained about the exhaustion that overcame him in the ballrooms.

"i still am sorry, my prince," you frown while putting down the bowl on the bedside table, "i broke our promise unknowingly, regardless." xavier smiles warmly shakes his head.

"so did i," he hums, "i wanted to see you within the hour you left but well… here we are. we're both a little guilty, yeah?" you laugh softly and shake your head. "no need to apologize then princess, we're even."

your body tilted down toward his and his body leaned up toward yours, a shared warmth flourished between you two at that moment. the room was quiet and bathed in the cool glow of the moon filtering through the sheer curtains. neither of you turned on the lights when you first walked in because this dim atmosphere was so comforting.

xavier reaches up and strokes your cheek softly with the back of his fingers. he adored your bare face, so youthful and soft to the touch without any product on it. you nuzzle into his touch and giggle softly. he rises from his chair, now towering over you while you were still sitting, and he moves to stand in-between your legs. you lean back slightly to invite him in, and he takes that invitation. his other hand moves to your back and pushes you closer to his form so that your chest was pressed against his abdomen. you felt your heart quicken at the intimacy of every move.

"prince-"

"xavier," he corrects, "i've told you to call me xavier repeatedly for the last few days and you haven't once. it's just us now, no one here to scare you from indulging me, princess. it's xavier."

"… xavier," you whisper out in a breathless voice.

"say it again," he murmurs while sliding his hand down to the small of your back and pushing you closer.

"xavier," you repeat.

"again." he takes his other hand out from your hait and places it underneath your thigh.

"xavier."

"one more time." he pushed your leg up and tucks in your back to make you fall onto the bed behind you. his hand moves up and down your thigh slowly while his other one, now off your back, cups your waist.

"ah… xavier."

he grins widely and leans his head down to nuzzle into your neck. while his outside demeanor may seem composed or even confident, internally he was a wreck. what was he doing right now and why did it feel so good? he felt so nervous that maybe he was pushing the boundaries between you two, but you neither fought back nor complained.

he peppered a few kisses in the crevice of your neck and then moved them down to your collarbones. you brought your hands up slowly to his head of hair and threaded your fingers into his locs. you felt a rush of something new, something you hadn't felt before, come over you. you glance down at xavier and see him already peering up at you.

"are you okay?" he asks tentatively, a nervous tinge in his voice.

"yeah, i'm alright. just…" you hesitate. you knew you two shouldn't be doing this, you knew it was a major violation of royal court rules. un-betrothed, un-courted royals were not allowed to be intimate by any means. if a royal wanted to become intimate in any way, the fastest way was to have an arranged marriage with a willing partner. but none of those circumstances applied to the two of you, which was incredibly scandalous. "… just continue." but you didn't care.

xavier almost lost his mind right there. he almost couldn't believe what you just said but the fond look on your face reassured him that he wasn't going insane.

oh god. oh… god.

xavier moves his hand from your waist to your abdomen where the tie to your robe was knotted at. he looks up to you for permission before slowly undoing it. the tension in the air was thick as both of you wondered just how far this was about to go. the robe fell to your sides and revealed the midnight coloured silk loungewear that you still had on.

xavier's pupils dilate as he takes in the beauty of your form. shocks of arousal went through his body, all pooling in a rather indecent place. he carefully takes the robe off your arms and puts it aside to fully appreciate your figure.

"i can't even describe what i'm feeling right now, you look unbelievable."

xavier's words immediately make you breathless. you've been revered by countless amounts of people in your life but nothing compared to the veneration he was giving you right now. you pull him down closer and nudge your nose against his affectionately.

"xavier."

"yes, princess?

"can you kiss me?"

"yes, princess."

without hesitation he presses his lips against yours and groans into your mouth. you reciprocate with a whine as you both share you first kiss. not just your first kiss with each other, but the first kiss both of you've ever had. it felt better than you expected, probably because the man you were sharing this experience with was someone you adored.

instinctively, your body arches up against his and his body presses down against yours. every time one of either of you pulled back for a breath, the other leaned back in for more. the kiss was juvenile and inexperienced but also heated and needy. nothing else in the world mattered anymore.

and for the first time in a long, long while xavier felt his cock twitch in his pants and start growing into an erection. he had gotten erections when he was younger purely out of hormonal changes, but never out of arousal. despite his age, this was a first for him and it felt so good to need you like this. the heat pooling in between your legs was also a first for you. you could feel a deep throbbing within you that could only be relieved by squishing your thighs together to create friction.

you push xavier back and whine. you weren't sure what you needed more, him or air.

"you look so beautiful like this," xavier giggles, "look at you, so flushed and pretty." he moves his hands up and down your hips with the intent to feel the curves and fullness of your body. his cock was now full erect and painfully pressed up against his grey pants, making an obvious imprint there. you shudder under his touch and close your eyes to savor the warmth of his large hands over your body, slowly rocking your hips up for more. he watches you undulate and moans. there was something so unbelievably erotic about the way you silently begged for more from him with your body. he steadies your hips and smiles. "princess, can i..." he trails off, unsure of how to verbalize his need. instead, he gently lifts your pliant body and turns you to be on your hands and knees on the bed. before you could sputter out in embarrassment, he hugs your form from atop and presses his hips flush against yours, earning a small gasp from you. "xavier," you yelp, "you're...?" he smiles. "erect, yes. what else did you expect my princess? i'm so excited for you and i've never felt this was before." he pushes his hips against yours again but this time a little harder. you could feel the stiffness and heat of his cock grind into your backside. this level of brazenness was something xavier couldn't even explain himself - in fact he was a little afraid of it. he didn't know what he was doing, really, he just moved in a way that felt natural.

"t...that feels so good," you say as you arch your hips up for him like a cat in heat for the first time. your unintentional words of reassurance make xavier groan and encourage him to keep going. he presses against you over and over again until both of you are mewling messes for each other. you could feel your heart thump erratically both in your chest and in-between your legs where arousal built. "ngh... ah... feel good, princess? i want to - ah - make you feel everything you make me feel. i want to give - mngh - pleasure to you." "y...you already are. i have the same desire, - ngh - i want to make you feel good. but it's just... what if we get caught? what if - " "we won't," xavier hisses. "i don't want you to worry like this, not when you're with me. i should have your full attention, not anyone else." he wraps his arms around your waist and fully presses his front against your back. his lips come 'round and press little teasing kisses down your lobe and to your neck. "we don't have to do anything further, we can just stay like this, but please, just focus on me."

xavier's almost whiny voice causes the aching between your legs to throb harshly. you've never seen him be such a mess, but you also have never been such mess yourself. you lift your arm up and wrap it around xavier's head and pull his lips against yours. he takes this as encouragement and thumps his hips harder against you with newfound confidence. too caught up in the moment, you don't even notice his trailing hand that lands right on your navel. "may i...?" he mumbles against your lips. you nod. he slides his hand further down to your thigh and then back up underneath your nightdress. he feels the lace of your panties and almost implodes realizing that he was going to touch you there and you let him. his fingers tease around the edge of your underwear and occasionally slide in to feel your bare hips. every touch he makes causes his aching cock to pulsate in anger for the fact that it hasn't been stimulated yet, but he put you first before everything. your breath hitches once you feel his finger finally graze against your soaking mound. you both let out a groan. "so wet..." he mumbles. the pads of his middle and ring finger gently trace around your pussy lips and folds. he wanted to commit this feeling to memory, the first time he's ever touched you. pleasure you've never experienced before wells up in your body and slowly, you feel your mind going hazy with lust. the explicit books you've read don't compare to the actual feeling of being pleasured. you can't believe this is what you've missed out on. you grab xavier's other hand and move it to your chest over one of your breasts. you felt him squeeze the plushness there almost immediately. his lips find your neck again which add to the symphony of bliss you felt. he was servicing you in every section of your body and he loved it. he loved, loved taking care of you. "i know i'm not yours yet through the court, princess, but i'm yours in every way that matters. i want to service you, make you feel good, take care of you until i physically can't anymore." "w...who cares about the court? ngh - they keep me a...away from you. you have - mngf - my devotion." "then don't let another man hear these sweet sounds, princess. don't let another man touch you or love you the way i do. i want to be yours, wholeheartedly." "only i...if you promise not to let a...another woman be - ahh - with you like this, xavier." "i wouldn't dream of it." xavier stops his fondling for a moment to flip you onto your back. he climbs the bed and smiles down at you before immediately ditching the grey suit. he throws it aside haphazardly, not caring about its maintenance, and leans down to your body. his loving kisses pepper your face causing you to giggle softly. you push him back to playfully scold him but the lovey-dovey look on his face makes your words disappear. "i really can't believe i'm yours," he whispers while continuing his worshipful kisses. "my beautiful princess, you've got me so worked up the last few days i didn't know what to do." his hands move back to your wet center, determined to coax more of those sweet sounds out of you. "and you think i've been doing great?" you retort softly while griding yourself against xavier's fingers. "i've been denying myself such simple pleasures out of fear and now i can't hold back anymore." xavier's eyes soften.

"i don't want you to hold back anymore," he whispers, "i want you to take as much of me as you want until you're satisfied. i'll give you everything. even if it brings me to tears, i will give you everything." before you could respond xavier's fingers deftly hook into your panties and pull down. he does it slowly and looks up at you occasionally to make sure you're okay, to make sure he isn't being selfish. once completely off, he lifts up your nightdress to your hips and just... stares. you hear a small noise come out of him as he revers your most intimate part. his thumb strokes the pubic hairs on your pussy while occasionally bumping into your swollen clit, making you whimper. "d...don't stare!" you exclaim in sheer embarrassment.

"why not? i won't be able to see this again for a while." you sputter at his implication and boldness. but it was when his head moved down toward your folds with a clear intention that really left you breathless. "wait!" you pull his head back. "don't do that either!" he laughs softly at the apprehensive look on your face. "why not? people do it all the time. i want to know you in every sense of the word, including knowing your taste." "but that's... unsanitary...?" even you felt unsure in your words. you weren't dirty, you wore new, clean clothes all the time. you took care of your hygiene almost meticulously and you weren't bleeding. denying yourself this pleasure would be a disservice to your aching, ready body. but letting yourself indulge came with the risks of getting hooked. "just a little kiss and lick?" xavier pouts. he moves his head down again and hovers over your pussy with a needy look. he gave you plenty of time to move him away and reject his offer again but when you averted your gaze and lifted your hips up for him, he almost cheered. he presses his soft lips against your clit and laps at it like a puppy thirsty for water. a little kiss and lick weren't enough for him, and he believed it wasn't enough for you either. you deserved more; you deserved everything he had to give. in his mind, the girl who broke his shell and taught him what love was deserved his every breath. to him you tasted like your scent; warm vanilla mixed with a more fleshy, salty feminine musk. a determined man like him needed to ensure this, though. maybe you had hints of jasmine or amber in you, maybe there was more sweetness waiting for him at the end of his road. your hands find purchase in xavier's head of hair and despite your earlier protests, you push him further into your pussy. at this point, your folds were creamy and dripping from pure and utter excitement, which made for a great drink on xavier's part. he delves in deeper with an eager and untrained mouth, sucking and kissing your clit and circling his tongue (as best as the poor boy can) over your clenching entrance. you almost orgasmed right there but you pulled xavier back from in-between your legs to prevent it. "ha.... hah.... x..xavier! you said just a little ki...! i need to - hah - catch my breath." xavier's head was in a haze but he wore a big goofy smile on his glistening lips. "you taste so sweet, though. i wanted to be a good prince and finish my meal." xavier giggles at the astonishment present on your face. he was so teasing and provocative in a way you would've never guessed, and even if you did like it, you wouldn't admit it. but even if you were taken aback by every other word he said, his glossy lips made evidence to just how much he adored you. willing to dive headfirst for your pleasure and even still whining for more. your eyes trailed down to his aching erection and immediately you felt the need to reciprocate. what did xavier taste like? what did he feel like in your mouth? you wanted to know just as badly as xavier wanted to go back into your beating pussy. you reach out and trace your finger over the imprint of his cock through his pants. xavier shuddered and pushed his hips forward to entice you, a small smile on his face.

"like it? want to see it?"

you nod instead of verbally responding, too shy to voice your newfound desires. xavier felt anxious showing himself to you. he anxious about your judgement, which was a rarity given his position as a respected prince. he usually was the one inflicting judgement on others, not the one fearing it.

you prove to me every day how much you've changed me, princess. xavier unfastens the buckles of his belt and slides it out of its loop, then shakes off his pants to the side. he inches closer to you and hovers over your anticipatory self. he moves his hand to the tent of his boxers and rubs himself gently while letting his eyes roam over you. "can i take off the rest of your nightdress?" "can you take off your top and boxers?" xavier smirks at and nods. he unbuttons his undershirt and slides it off with ease, putting it aside with his other clothes, then looks down at his boxers. he moves even closer and leans his head against yours, nudging your cheek with his nose while touching himself. you could feel the anticipation simmering you two, electric and overwhelming. he reaches into his boxers and grabs his throbbing cock, slowly taking it out of its confinements. he groans once its fully out to scrutinizing your gaze, and you let out a whimper at just the sheer sight of him.

his cock stood tall and proud, arching into his abdomen while covering itself in streaks of pre-cum. he was swollen with need which made you eager to please him even more. tentatively, you reach your hand out and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock which makes xavier tilt his head back in pleasure. he groans as he feels your slow pumping and squeezes on him even though each movement was met with hesitation. while you continued your strokes, your head leaned in closer and closer in attempts to satisfy your curiosity. you let your hand fall for a moment and prepare to take his length into your mouth when xavier quickly pins you back onto the bed upon sensing your intention. your eyes widen in surprise and fear, wondering if you did something. "w...what?!" you squeal. "i don't... i don't want you to do that. i... i want to be the one servicing. i don't want you to do something like that for me." "i...want to make you feel good, though"

xavier smiles tenderly at you.

"you already make me feel good, but i know what you mean. just for today, i don't want you to do it, okay?" "but i want to taste you."

xavier smiles tenderly at you. he moves his hand down to his aching cock and slides his index and middle finger down his creamy shaft and then brings it up to your lips. "taste, then." you felt a shock of arousal hit your body at xavier's eroticism that you could hardly believe he was an inexperienced celibate like you. happily, though, you lean forward and take his fingers into your mouth and moan upon tasting the salty sweetness of his desire. he watches you suck eagerly and move as if you were pleasuring his cock, bobbing your head up and down and enveloping your tongue around his fingers. the sight was too much to bear for him and he lunges forward into a heady kiss. his fingers slide from your mouth as the two of your whine and whimper into against each other's lips. he wastes no time peeling off your nightdress from your undulating form, starting with undoing the strings on your back and pulling it over your head. he finally pulls back from the kiss and stares down at your bare form underneath him. his eyes go from your soft, plush breasts down to your tummy and of course your wet core. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, "beautiful doesn't even describe you. what am i gonna do with you?" "touch me." "with pleasure." he moves his head down to your collarbones and starts a line of kisses down in-between the valley of your breasts. he cups both of them with each hand and rolls his thumbs over your nipples to coax them into peaks. he watches you fondly as your expression contorts in pleasure from his ministrations, giving him a confidence boost. "i like these," he mumbles, referring to your breasts. "yeah?" "yeah. they're soft and squishy, perfect to just play with. do you ever play with them?" an awkward smile appears on your incredulous face. "uh, sometimes? like when i'm in the shower or when i'm bored. my dresses usually get in the way of anything getting in so..."

"if i was a girl, i would be playing with mine all the time. it's very comforting."

you furrow your brows at him and laugh softly at his honesty. you move your hands up to his pecs and squish them playfully in the same manner xavier was touching you. "how does this feel then?" you giggle. "feels like i'm being fondled by a pretty girl. mine compare nothing to yours, though. bet yours taste nice too."

xavier moves down to your hardened nipples and wraps his lips around them with swiftness. you feel him suckle and moan on your skin like a man starved. he continues the same ministration on your other nipple, suckling and groaning with need until he decides to pop off, a large smile on his shining face. "mm, yeah, tastes amazing." you playfully hit his arm which erupts a small giggle from him, causing your heart to flutter. xavier, at the end of the day, is just as silly and childish as the day you met him. and no matter how good his stoic facade is to those around him, you knew him as someone much, much different. something about his smile flames a desire inside of you. not one so much of lust but more of a need for connection. pushing royal rules was something everyone did here and there, completely breaking them was treason. it told everyone you had no restraint, no moral compass, that you are blinded by lust and desire and that you couldn't be loyal to your crown. maybe they were right, because right now you wanted to be loyal to xavier more than any throne in the world. "xavier, i need you," you whisper suddenly. he leans down immediately and presses a kiss to your temple. "i'm right here, my princess."

you press your hands onto his hips and move them down a bit to nestle his hard cock against your thigh. "i need you."

xavier's eyes widen slightly. he wasn't sure from the beginning if this was how far you two would go, given how anxious you were about the risks of doing so; but despite how scary sex could be for a someone like you - both a virgin and a princess - you looked at ease and assured in your words. "princess..." he whispers, "i know we're not supposed to be doing this but... i need you too."

"i don't care anymore. i want you more than i've ever wanted anything in my life." xavier chuckles and presses another kiss to your temple. "well when you put it like that, there's no way i can hesitate."

knowing you needed more preparation, xavier shifted your legs up to your waist and probed you for a few minutes before inserting a singular finger. he watched as his digit was engulfed by you the entire way and he also watched your twisting expression to ensure you were okay. it hurt a bit, obviously, but he was gentle and patient. slowly, he worked you up to two fingers and then three. it only felt uncomfortable because your muscles there were unused and inexperienced with penetration, but xavier did everything right. "you're so tight, starlight. can you relax a bit for me?" he whispers while pressing kisses down your belly. you nod and try to calm your jittery body down with deep breaths, earning an encouraging kiss from xavier. "that's it, just like that. you're doing so well. i can feel you loosing up a bit," he praises. you smile and continue breathing until you felt ready enough to move on. you look down at xavier and cup his face with a gentle hand. what a beauty you had with you. "i think i'm ready." "are you sure? there's no rush." you smile. "i'm sure." xavier nods and moves up your body so that your hips and his were pressed up against each other. he grabs his cock at the base and gently slides it in-between your pussy lips to gather your arousal and nudge your clit teasingly. after a few moments of silent rubbing, he shifts his cock a little lower and positions himself your entrance. he presses repeated kisses to your cheek as he very slowly pushes into you. you immediately tense up but the coos of xavier's voice help you relax again. "i'm a bit in, are you okay?" "y...yeah," you shudder, "feels weird but i want more." he continues pushing in and out, in and out until you took more and more of him with each passing minute. despite this being a major turning point in your relationship and lives, both of you stayed rather quiet from how attentive you were being to each other.

xavier felt how your body was slowly accepting him with each shallow thrust, so he took a slight risk. he pushes in again but this time with the intent to go deeper than before. you tense up again and immediately he comforted you. "it's okay, you're okay. tell me if it's too much." "im okay, im okay. it's just... an uncomfortable feeling, but it's starting to go away." "it's starting to go away?" he repeats with a smile. "then let's get the hard part out of the way, yeah? im gonna go deeper again but stop me if it's too much." you nod and wrap your arms around xavier's back for comfort. his cock slid out of you again and with gentle force, he pushes in even deeper causing you both to groan. you felt a shock of pain and pleasure within your legs but refused to stop at this point. xavier, on the other hand, was trying his best not to cum already. he stilled within you and whimpered softly as he forces himself to calm down before he orgasmed prematurely. sweat beads on his forehead and falls down onto your chest. "oh god, you feel so, so good. 'm seeing stars... ngh." before you could say anything, he slides out of you again and presses back into the same spot within your walls, causing you to arch off the bed and cry out. while there was still a pain within you, it was numbing off into an aching sense of pleasure. you scratch xavier's back as more cries fall from your lips while he continues to go in and out, hitting a bit deeper each time. "oh... xavier... xavier... xavier...!" "i love you, i love you, i love you."

as much as you wanted to see xavier's face, you had to clench your eyes shut from the pressure on your body. your nails continue to mark xavier from the back which only urges him to soak himself deeper within you. "yes starlight, scratch me, mark me, make me yours." he gasps out. every movement he made was a battle with his body to not lose himself inside you right then and there. xavier had experienced countless battles, training grounds, injuries, debates, a myriad of hardship; but nothing was as difficult as simply trying not to cum in you right now.

"xavier," you whine, "xavier, it f..feels good now. i feel like im losing my mind." "lose it princess, lose it with me."

he moves a hand down to your hips and lifts them slightly to get a better angle within you, while the other goes over your clit and stimulates you further. you gasp at the dual stimulation and feel an unfamiliar heat slowly coil within your navel. "xavier, i love you too. i didn't say it earlier, but i do. i love you so much. i love you with everything i have." xavier's pace falters the moment he hears your reciprocated confession. truth be told, he was refraining from cumming by just those words. he smiles endearingly and leans into your face and presses a singular kiss to the tip of your nose. "princess, can i come in you?" he asks softly, his voice now devoid of struggle. you glitch at his ask but before you could answer he continues. "you leave tomorrow, right? i want you to take a part of me before you go. i want it to be with you on your journey back. may... i?" with the way xaiver was asking you with his sweet, tender voice and his adoring eyes, you would've given him a baby if he asked. oh wait. "yes, please do." the elation on his face was almost indescribable, you wanted to laugh. he shifted out of your again and then pushed back in until your pelvis met his. this was the deepest he’s gone in so far and you could feel how his cock curved up into you and nudged against your walls. you felt that final push and cried loudly. you lift your legs to wrap around xavier’s hips while he pressed kisses to your cheek to comfort you. at this point you were attached to his body like glue and you weren’t planning on letting go.

“oh stars above,” he groans, “i fit so perfectly in you princess, yeah?” xavier presses another kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop of your head. “you’re all nice and snug, i want you to trap me in you so you don’t have to go tomorrow.”

“y…you’re crazy.”

xavier smiles and wraps his arms around your chest. he pulls out again only to sink into you once more. each thrust was no longer as slow and methodical, instead they were getting sloppy and getting slightly faster with each thrust. he still paid attention to your cues and noises to ensure that you weren’t uncomfortable, but he needed to give you an orgasm that satisfy you every pent up need.

one arm moves from under your body and goes down to your aching clit. his fingers circle and rub you there until your bud was perking with pleasure. seeing and hearing how much each ministration was pleasuring you, he moves his head down to one of your breasts and latches onto a nipple to suckle once more. the triple stimulation on your body was too much to bear and in a matter of moments you felt that earlier coil in your stomach start to unravel.

“x..xavier! i feel weird… i think im gonna…!” you gasp and clench onto his body as if you were preparing for the worst.

“t…that’s my girl, let go. i’ve g..got you. you’re gonna squeeze an orgasm an out of me too.”

you squeeze your eyes shut and lock your legs tighter around xavier hips. the next thing you knew, you felt a hot flash down your body that converged in-between your legs and bursted with great force. you almost screamed but xavier ate up your cries with soothing kisses as his own orgasm welled up and tipped over within you. he feels the throbbing of your clit and the tightening of your pussy around his cock, milking him for what he’s had stored up for years.

your first, and his first, orgasm.

xavier’s heavy balls coil up as his cock paints the inside of your sweetness with an intense load of cum. tears fall from your eyes, your body twitched with overstimulation, you felt your mind going numb from how overwhelmed you were, but you didn’t regret a single moment of it. xavier whimpers your name out as his cock spurts out the last few gushes of cum within you. the feeling of something so sticky and hot inside your pussy was incredibly weird but you felt a strange sense of contentment at how full you were.

“i love you so much, don’t leave me. stay here with me.” xavier whispers in a small voice as his body stills within you. he waited patiently for you to calm down before pressing more kisses to your face.

“you…you know i can’t do that,” you reply in a struggle. your body felt exhausted from the exertion but you were still attentive to xavier.

“i know.”

xavier nestles his head underneath your chin and holds you gently and you reciprocate with an embrace around his neck. there was a bittersweet silence between you two. maybe more sweet than bitter for you and maybe more bitter than sweet for xavier. the ache and pain in you went ignored as you prioritized focusing on xavier over anything else in the moment. you couldn’t properly see his face and the dim room made it hard to see his body clearly, but you could tell he was upset.

you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and rub your nose there affectionately. usually you would tease him about acting like a little baby but humor felt misplaced here. your heart ached but you weren’t sure what to say to comfort him. so instead, you say the one thing you could think of and truly mean.

“i love you, xavier.”

“i love you more.”

a/n: i’ve literally slaved away writing this lowkey, but i enjoyed it. sorry if the second half of this seems lackluster, i was slowly going insane from how much i was writing and i needed it to be DONE WITH. anyway xavier for life 💜

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