anovelpair

[anovelpair]

whump daphne is coming.. plus diablo in fantasy au..

[anovelpair]

[NSFW] CRITICAL

✒ . oc content :: luc, saoirse

✒ . in which gentleness turns into punishment.

✒ . MDNI, SMUT :: f receiving, fingering, light wound play, implied knife (dagger) play

the prince and princess’ shared quarters were dimly lit with the flicker of a torchlight dancing along the stone walls—a soft, golden glow spilling through the doorway, just barely cracked open. inside, saoirse sat on the edge of the bed, her back bare—each layer of her ruqun shed and pooled at her waist. her breathing was steady, yet her shoulders were tense.

”saoirse,” luc called out gently, the door gently swinging open. his eyes landed on the basin of warm water, fresh roll of linen, and healing salve placed on the foot of their bed. then, he looked up, and his heart ached at the sight of the still-bleeding injury that trailed along her ribs. “.. so it's true. you went alone?”

”I did,” she said bluntly, “not even daphne was with me.”

”why?” he blurted out, his tone pained. “you keep doing this. you keep risking your life.”

“it is for the better, prince,” she did not even look at him as she spoke, keeping her gaze fixated on dressing her wound. “had I not acted, they would’ve gotten what they wanted.”

”still..” he faltered. part of him knew there was no getting through to her. instead, he observed the way she carefully applied the healing salve to the gash, saw the way her breath hitched and she hissed, eyebrows furrowed in struggle. “at least let me help.”

he wasn’t taking no for an answer, though—given by the way he was quick to approach her and take the soaking linen in his hands. she felt the mattress dip behind her when luc kneeled on it. he wrung out the wet cloth until it was damp. up close, his breath hitched as he took in the curve of her spine, and the blood that stained her fair skin.

saoirse’s gaze traveled upwards from her wound to him. “you’re too gentle.” she said suddenly, causing him to quickly look up at her.

he gave a small, crooked smile, turning his attention back towards her waist. “i‘m not afraid of hurting you,” he replied, dabbing at the wound carefully, “but I like having an excuse to touch you.”

her breath hitched, but she didn’t respond. the water stung a little—not from pain, but from the way she felt his touch linger a moment too long. it felt like fire on her cold skin, a feeling set ablaze by both the pain and something else.

”you’re holding your breath.”

she gasped, her eyes blown wide when luc suddenly applied pressure to her wound through the linen. “luc—?” she squirmed, her body shuddering—his breath felt hot against the nape of her neck, and she wondered just when he managed to get this close.

close enough to wrap his arm around her waist, still holding the cloth, and still pushing it against her wound, hard enough that it soaked with a viscous red.

”luc, what are you—?”

she let out a loud yelp when she was suddenly lifted up and placed atop his lap, just with the grip of his one arm. confusion bubbled in her mind, and when she looked over her shoulder, her blood ran cold. 

luc stared at her with those same cerulean eyes, yet they did not hold the same warmth. they were dark and focused, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “you’re right, you know that?” he tilted his head slightly to the side, his other hand trailing down and fitting snug between her thighs. he gripped one and pushed her legs apart, muttering, “I shouldn’t be gentle with you.”

”wh— what?” she stammered, eyes completely blown wide in surprise. her breaths were fast, yet soft, and only when he pressed the pads of his fingers against her clit did a tinge of volume escape her lips, her mouth agape at the mixed sensation of pain and pleasure.

”ah, what are you—“ she swallowed, mouth dry, “—luc, what are you doing?”

”oh? you’re so smart and all-knowing, I thought you might’ve figured it out by now,” his eyes shone with a debauched glint, “i’m punishing you, sao.”

he pushed two of his fingers inside her sloppy cunt, the sudden motion catching her so off guard she arched her back. in response, he pulled her back flush against his chest, pulling a groan from her throat as he pressed on her wound so cruelly.

setting a brutal, punishing pace, he left her no time to think or even catch her breath. he watched the way her body twitched and tried to pull away from his grip, only to be left with a hard pounding and a rough wriggle of the cloth pressed against her injury. 

“ahn—! wha, haah—?!” she gasped and moaned, her vision dancing with spots of dopamine and endorphins. “luuuuc, nnhh.. f- feels good..?” she whimpered, as if she herself was confused by the mix of contrasting feelings swirling inside her. 

“mhm?” luc cooed, pressing a kiss on the side of her neck as he pounded his fingers fast and deep inside her. “does it? maybe if you listen to me next time, I’ll fuck you properly.”

”ah, ah! I will, pro-mise!” she slurred out, her words barely coherent. the addicting sensation was muddling her brain completely, reducing her stoic, cold personality into a debauched woman with her tongue lolled out. “fuu-ck, g’nna cum…! luc—!!”

she gasped out, the feeling suddenly ripped away from her when luc abruptly pulled away, letting her body drop against the mattress cheek down. her body shuddered, her chest heaving with every breath she took. 

“not yet,” he muttered, the sound of a dagger unsheathing filling the air, “m‘not done with you yet, princess.”

she swallowed a lump in her throat—utterly fucked. soon to be literally.

he leaned in, pressing butterfly kisses across the expanse of her bare back, caring not for the blood that stained it and his lips. he hastily began removing his pants, then, his hand found her hip. he let out a small hiss when she instinctively bucked backwards against his cock, chuckling as he said,

”aww, aren’t you eager?” he grinned, a dark glint in his eyes as he pressed the tip of the dagger against her open wound, and at the same time, he pushed the head of his dick against her sloppy, wet entrance. “breath in for me, okay? one, two..”

saoirse breathed in—

”..three.” he slammed his length inside her, the dagger in her wound.

her mouth was left agape, a silent scream torn from her throat as she buried her face in the mattress below her. she gasped and sobbed, “mgnh- luc, luuc..” she wheezed out, feeling his weighty cock reach so fucking deep—the dagger in her ribs fit snug, blood dripping and staining the sheets below them. the mix of dopamine and endorphins gave her a floaty high that kept her on cloud 9. “ahn, hic… fffuck, luc, pleasee..”

”please what, princess?” he cooed—slow and deep thrusts making her choke on her own saliva.

”m’sorry,” she whimpered, “won’t do it again.. pleaseee, please, needa cum, pleasee-“

”begging?” he scoffed, amused, “so damn cute. you’re lucky I just can’t get enough of you.”

he starts ceaselessly slamming his cockhead against her g-spot, that tender spot that causes her to let off the most pornographic moans. “f— fhuuckkk..” she drawled out, drool mixing with blood on the pillow she lay her cheek on.

she continued to lie like that, her back arched, his pace relentless—he’s grunting with each slapping pound he creates, his chest heaving with every heavy breath. her moans turned high-pitched, sweet and so pain-filled it was like music to his ears.

”gonna pump you full, princess,” he muttered breathlessly, “you want that, hm?”

”ahn! mhm, f- fuck yes!” she moaned out, her vision blurred with an endless stream of tears. “fuuuck, fuck, fill me up, pleasee-“

hot and heavy panting filled the air, and it wasn’t long before he stilled inside her, spilling his seed deep in her womb—just as she arched her back further and squirted all over his cock and lower body, her own figure shaking and shuddering before she collapsed completely.

she let out one last guttural moan when luc swiftly pulled the dagger out of her wound, immediately covering it with a clean, damp towel after. her eyes began to flutter closed, the feeling of luc’s hand on her hair lulling her to a deep slumber.

[anovelpair]

VENOM

✒ . oc content

✒ . in which an incident occurs during the banquet.

✒ . a/n :: part 2 of this

As night fell, the darkness consumed the lights that illuminated the clouds. The wind whispered softly as wolves howled in the night. The night was calm and deprived of life. On the other hand, the life within the fortified walls and the lights within shone like a candle. Inside was the consistent sounds of laughter and music. A celebration that gave hues of warmth to those that acknowledge the event.

There, at an elevated area, sat the notable royals and heads. The king sat in the middle while Luc was beside him, overlooking the crowd that feasted on the food provided. To their surprise and the expectation Luc and his Father had, a knight entered the room and bowed his head. “Princess Saoirse and her royal advisors wish to enter, your majesty.” “She may.” The king rose, followed by Luc and the rest of the nobles. Staying silent as they await to see her presence.

The doors to the foyer opened, the sound of gentle footsteps filling the silence. Saoirse stepped out first, wearing a blue shenyi hanfu, with vague flower details and the most intricate accessories decorating her hair. Her poise, her entirety, was the epitome of grace and regalia. Behind her followed Daphne, who wore her usual black and red qixion ruqun. 

Saoirse averted her gaze upwards and met Luc's eyes, to which she smiled. A knight escorted her down the foyer, and she soon found herself beside the prince and the king, whom she made sure to greet first. 

“Your Majesty,” she clasped her hands together in front of her and bowed. “It is my honor.”

“Princess Saoirse.” The king bowed his head in return; a smile formed while he gestured at an empty seat next to Luc. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you.” she smiled, brushing her dress flat with her hands before sitting down beside Luc. Although she looked calm and composed, her eyes said otherwise–frantic, a little frazzled upon seeing the amount of people attending–yet it came as a surprise when she looked to Luc for support, fidgeting with her bandages below the banquet table.

“I’m glad you came.” He smiles warmly; the look he gives is soft and reassuring, enough to keep her mind straight. He glances at the wounds inflicted on her, moving closer to her ear and whispering, “Do you want me to send a physician after?”

“No, it's alright.” She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. Her eyes were still lowered, as if she were afraid to meet the piercing gazes of the Roxolian nobles before her.

“My lords and ladies, we gather here to celebrate the passing of the three moons and to welcome people who were once our enemies…” The king announced. “I hope that we celebrate this moment in the memory of our history, but also welcome the next chapter with open arms.” With a quick applause, the king let out a gruff smile before sitting back down, leaning closer to Luc. “I’m sure a few nobles would love to have a word with you and the princess.” “Yes father.” Luc nodded before turning to Saoirse, who prepared herself internally.

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Saoirse’s eyes met Luc's once again, and she smiled and nodded at him. “Shall we?”

Luc nodded in response. Even though he had already experienced plenty of exchanges with the nobles, he wished to aid her in any way he could. “If you find their interactions difficult, you may excuse yourself.”

“I will, no need to concern yourself. It isn't my first banquet.” She laughed softly. Soon, she found herself in talks with the noble ladies in particular. She noted all their titles—duchesses, viscountesses, and countesses—and would greet them accordingly. The genuine smile on her face as she spoke and listened said it all—she was enjoying herself. 

The nobles quickly became enamored by the young princess.. most of them, at least. The aristocrats did not dare mingle amongst them, instead, forming their own groups with hushed whispers. Although she noticed the divide, she did not comment on it, instead focusing on mundane topics. 

“Your Highness, your dress... it is exquisite,” one of the older ladies commented, eyeing the layered fabric curiously. “I was not aware Ithanians had such an eye for fashion. It matches your ethereal beauty perfectly.”

“Thank you.” Saoirse simply replied, hiding her soft smile behind her sleeve out of faux shyness. “I admire Roxolian fashion as much as you do ours, Grand Duchess. It is an honor to be complimented by you.”

Thus, the conversations followed the same tedious flow—common, womanly talks with topics centering mostly around either tea, fashion, or.. their husbands.

Luc had experienced the same kind of attention when he briefly left his seat to speak with Xander about certain matters, he was approached as he was returning. Keeping up with conversation with them and perhaps indulging themselves with his presence despite how mundane it felt.

“How do you feel about such forced engagement?” A young lord asked with an amused tone.

“You must be finding it quite difficult.” Another one remarked.

“Please, the thing I find difficult is keeping up with political affairs.” Luc bluntly said.

Luc had maintained himself in the presence of others while Saoirse was preoccupied with the ladies. Still, he had to admit that he was losing his patience with the endless comments and remarks these certain people shared. Referring to the princess as a nuisance rather than someone to be respected. “Besides…” He shrugs. “I do not mind being betrothed to her.”

Just as they were about to comment, he excused himself, wishing to be with her and not leave her for a long period. 

“What is it like to be engaged to the Crown Prince?” One of the younger ladies mused. “I bet it must be exciting!”

”Oh.. yes, certainly,” Saoirse simply replied, hiding her irritation quite well. “Speaking of..” her eyes traveled towards a familiar set of bluebell eyes and blonde hair. “Your Highness.” She smiled, greeting Luc as he approached their group.

“Princess, my ladies.” `He greeted, lowering his head for Saoirse and the other court ladies. “May I have some time alone with her?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” an elder woman smiled and nodded, “We wouldn't dare keep you from speaking to your fiancé. Go along now, Princess Saoirse. It was an honor meeting you.”

Saoirse returned her smile with one of her own. The moment she turned towards Luc, it fell and was replaced by an irritated scowl. “Let us go.” She said, swiftly taking his hand and walking away from the crowd of chattering nobles towards an empty spot near the head of the banquet. 

She seemed to be muttering a few Ithanian words under her breath as she dusted off her sleeve, still facing Luc so as to not arouse suspicion amongst the people. However, like this, they looked.. rather conspicuous, one might even say, scandalous. 

Such whispers were only heightened by the way Saoirse held onto Luc's arm to adjust her heels. Amidst his confusion and slight franticness, she finally spoke in English, “Really, they just kept touching my ruqun. Don't they know these are mystical, luxurious Ithanian robes?” She tsked. 

“They do not know, princess.” Luc gently answered. “Like you’ve pointed out before, Roxolis differs from Ithania.” Luc also notices the attention they are getting but ignores them completely. Holding her hand firmly. A servant appears through the crowd with a few glasses and a bottle of what is supposed to be ale. He calls him up and turns to Saoirse. “Do you drink?”

“I am a lightweight.” She replied simply, a deadpan on her face. “But.. well, I am stressed. What better way to cure it?” She said with a soft chuckle. “Very well, perhaps you’d somewhat like this one.” Luc pulls the glass off the tray, the servant pouring the drink in with only half being put on hers at the prince’s discretion. “It’s light and fruity.” He offers the glass out to Saoirse. Upon taking a whiff, she could smell that liquor along with hints of sweetness it contained. 

Saoirse hummed in delight. She held the glass by the base and took a sip. “Ah,” she remarked, her eyes sparkling, “That is delicious.”. Luc lets out a laugh to her reaction. Finding it quite cute. “Take it slow, princess, we don’t want you getting drunk.” He joked. After some time of conversing about the nations’ differing history and a few well-placed acts of teasing and humorous exchanges. The King slowly arose and called them both up, signalling to Luc that it was time. As the two royals headed up to their seats near the king, they noticed the number of servants had increased, serving them the same glass and drink she had earlier. The crowd listened to the king’s speech, this time his intentions more pronounced. Bringing up what the country had to face and endure for the many years that passed with him on the throne, the good, the bad, and the worse. He also brought up that the country aligning themselves with Ithania would bring more benefits for both and how this was the way he wished the future to go, a land of prosperity. He raises his glass, telling them all to stand as an indication for a toast they are about to make. With light heart and a thoughtful expression. He exclaimed that the future is brighter for both countries, repeating the Roxolian ancient words under their breaths before drinking.

The sound of silence, followed by glasses clinking lightly against jewelry filled the air. There were mutters amongst the Roxolian nobles, all speaking about the nation in a new, positive light. 

Saoirse lifted her goblet, the deep red wine catching the light. She brought it to her lips, taking a measured sip. The moment the liquid touched her tongue, something was wrong.

Bitter.

A sharp, unnatural bitterness coiled through her mouth and down her throat, spreading like ice through her veins.

Her grip on the goblet tightened for the briefest of moments before she forced her hand to steady, lowering it slowly. She could not react. Not yet. Not here.

Luc, ever perceptive when it came to her, glanced at her with a slight furrow in his brow. "Saoirse?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

A wave of cold nausea rolled through her, her breath catching as the world seemed to tilt. She swallowed hard, trying to summon the magic within her, the power that had been her constant companion since birth—

Nothing. Panic, foreign and unfamiliar, scraped at her ribs. Anti-magic.

The realization struck her as sharply as a blade. She had read of such poisons before—crafted in secrecy, using forbidden alchemy, designed to strip magic from even the most powerful sorcerers. For an ordinary person, it would do nothing. But for her, whose very being was intertwined with magic—

Her fingers twitched. Even the simple act of moving felt sluggish, her limbs heavier than they should be.

“My lady!” Daphne was the first to react, having kept her eyes on Saoirse the entire night. She caught her right as she fell back against her seat, nearly toppling the chair over. 

The princess gasped, her complexion turning a deathly pale. She clung onto Daphne's sleeve, forcing herself to focus her eyes on her. She muttered something in Ithanian, before her eyelids began to flutter. 

“The princess was poisoned!” Amidst her anger was concern—she held Saoirse close, not letting anyone get even a glance at her sickly state.

“Saoirse!”

Luc was swift to kneel before her. His eyes were unfocused in panic, and everything felt like a blur. He glanced up, and saw the way a stream of magic stemming from Daphne's hand was placed on her chest, supposedly keeping the poison from circulating further into her bloodstream. 

He looked around, and saw the way his father, fury etched in his face, commanded his men-at-arms to secure the doors so as to not give the perpetrator an escape. He specifically commanded a few to arrest any servants, chefs, or brewers in the keep.

It wasn’t until Daphne began to mutter an Ithanian spell did he feel like he was finally snapped back into reality, the chaos around them a muted hum as he finally focused in on Saoirse’s sickly state. “Xander!” He called, “Bring in the royal physicians, now!” When the physicians did show up, they were advised that the princess needed a place to rest immediately before they were able to assess her condition. Thus, they all quickly took her to her quarters in a rush, with both Daphne and Luc at her side, with his hands in hers, holding them tightly.

“Prince,” Daphne called out suddenly, barely hidden venom lacing her tone. “If this news gets back to Ithania, they will not be merciful.”

Luc swallowed a lump on his throat and nodded. “I know. For now, let us focus on Saoirse, please.”

With a grimace, Daphne shook her head, but said nothing else. 

A few days had passed, and Saoirse remained unconscious, unmoving on her bed. One afternoon, whilst Luc was slaving away in his office addressing political affairs that had risen after the event, a gentle knock sounded against his door. 

“Come in.” `He answered, not bothering to turn his head as he writes with his quill and paper.

“Your Highness, Prince Luc,” To his surprise, the door opened and Daphne entered. She quickly bowed and announced her news immediately.  “Her Highness has awoken.” As soon as his ears heard what he’d been aching for these past few days, he quickly stood and left the papers as is, because no matter how important they were; he’d push everything aside and delay for a few hours just to get to see her.

Once he’d arrived at her quarters, he was greeted by the smell of lavender and fresh linen, and the sight of Saoirse sitting up on her bed. Her gaze met Luc’s, and she sighed—why? She seemed.. disappointed. As if she were expecting something else. Just as he began to contemplate, she spoke.

“We did not catch the perpetrator,” she muttered, “I surely thought that by letting them poison me, they’d show themselves. Alas..”

Luc’s face falls. She knew.

She knew there was poison, she smelled it from a mile away, before she even lifted her goblet.

“Y-You drank it, knowingly??” He happened to blurt out. Shaking his head as he processes what he just learnt. “Why? You could’ve told us beforehand!” He looked around, seemingly disturbed as he put his fingers on the bridge of his nose while he closed his eyes.

She tilted her head slightly to the side. “I do not understand your..”she trailed off, then instead said, “If I told you, would you have believed me?”

“Of course I would believe you!” He argued. “There’s no way I’d let you drink, the risk is too great for you!”

“Then would you believe me if I said it was a Roxolian noble that poisoned me?”

Luc paused, processing what she said. He shook his head, and his eyes looked away. He knew it was absurd, but he knew it was partly true. Who would’ve tried? “Even if it was, we had a lot of visitors.”

Saoirse shut her eyes briefly, and looked away, turning towards the open window. She spoke with no empathy, no concern for her very being. “It doesn't matter anymore. Daphne and I failed, we’ll have to hope those aristocrats try something a little more conspicuous..”

“You do realize that I have to tell this to my father.” He stated. He seemed rather cold, and it was very obvious he was trying to hide it. “I can’t just leave him out of this.”

Startled, she quickly looked back at him, an expression of bewilderment in her face. “.. You.. you don’t even know what proof we have,” she frowned, “You may believe me, but your father will not.” “But if the princess of Ithania was poisoned by our very own people, you know he wouldn’t take it lightly. Even if he didn’t believe me.” He retorted. At this point he showed frustration, turning his back on her as he walked through the door. “No matter, I’ll find them myself and we’ll have a chat later.”

“.. As you wish.” She muttered under her breath, disdain in her tone as she looked away.

[anovelpair]

THOUGHTS

✒ . oc content ✒ . in which a grand banquet occurs, but luc is missing someone else.

✒ . part 2 here!

IN the midst of setting sun, the light reached high above the clouds where it left a gentle hue. The stars twinkled desperately in the darker edges of the sky that slowly crawled by towards the light, like a void consuming what was deemed as a beautiful world.

The same could be said with one’s heart. The princess’ eyes lay upon the thriving land below her, where she observed an assortment of activities, from the little children playing with the snow to the guards changing their post.

Her fingertips—scarred by her relentless chewing—were wrapped in clean, white bandages, recently changed by Daphne. The court lady would enter her room every once in a while to ask if she needed anything, and never once did she respond, simply stared at her until she finished what she was tasked to do and left. 

Tonight was no different from any other. Her gaze was downcast towards the view of the nation before her—the bumbling traders and the fair maidens hustling around a cruel sight for her to see, indeed, considering she was practically trapped in this tower she called her quarters. 

As the lady kept to herself, if not within the confines of her chambers, but in her own mind. The sound of an abrupt cheer as cups were raised in celebration of a monumental event. The northern nobles and ladies had gathered, finding themselves bathed in the extravagance. Though such feelings could not be matched with one person, his blue eyes locked in a deep thought as he slouched over the table and played with the fancy glass by the lips.

Various individuals had tried to engage with him, but their words couldn’t reach him. He wasn’t feeling up to entertain through baseless conversations. All he wanted to do was think—all he could feel like doing was think. He remembers those same crimson locks that pierced his heart, and how it turned away and closed as if destiny forbade him to look at those rubies.

He sighed and muttered under his hair, an act of confusion and defeat as he threw his arms above his head and let out a light groan. He could only wonder how she was, and what he could do for her.

“You seem to be in distress, " A hushed voice said. Luc only sighs through his nose; the noblemen can’t keep their noses to themselves.

“Sadly, I’m not in the mood to…” He turned his head, his expression implying he was irritated. But such feelings faltered upon raising his eyes. “enter..tain…?”

The royal colors and emblems hung on one’s broad shoulders. The person had a fancy robe with buttons of great detail. Luc only let out a nervous laugh as he turned his head away, embarrassed and a bit worried.

“G-Good evening, father.” His voice lowered. “I apologize for my lack of appropriate energy.”

The king simply let out a short chuckle, finding such reasons to be amusing. “I had heard from some lords and ladies that the young prince was acting strange…”

“I had hoped that the lad must be drunk from all the wine that was served—but remembered you weren’t one to drink that shite.” The old bear sat beside him, but his foggy blue eyes were locked on the prince. “Start spilling.”

Luc could only instinctively brush his nose, letting out a disappointed sigh as if he hadn’t done it several times already. “It’s the princess, she’s not feeling well...”

“Then why the bloody hell are you here for? Go fetch her.” Luc could only look at his father in distraught.

“It’s not that simple, father.” He looked away. “She hates us…”

“It is to be expected.” The old king responded bluntly.

“I don’t know what to do,” Luc admitted in defeat. “I… barely know her, but I want to help.”

“In such cases normally, leave her alone. She’ll get used to the way things work around this part of the world...” The king said, scratching his forehead. “But in this case lad, you best be going. Be with her even if she wants to turn your guts into minced pieces.

“But I—”

“Go. Your king commands it.” He ordered. Luc was stunned for a moment before nodding and excusing himself afterward. Leaving the king by himself at the table.

Luc soon arrives at the same hall near Saoirse’s chambers. As expected, Daphne stood guard in front of the door. The torches on the wall illuminated the small corridor while Luc walked past the reaching shadows that finally emerged as the sun finally hid in the horizon.

“My lady Daphne.” He greeted her anxiously.

Daphne narrowed her gaze slightly towards him. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head in acknowledgement. “Your Highness,” she paused, then smiled as she looked up at him, “Her Imperial Highness is in a particularly good mood today. She enjoyed the raspberry pie she had for dessert.”

Ah, a subtle sign—small, yes, but the pleased expression on her face was amusing—of her encouraging Luc to speak to the Ithanian princess. 

After bowing his head, thanking her for her duties, he knocked on the wooden doors. Anxiously waiting for a response or if she’d open the door for him. Nonetheless, he waits patiently, not wanting to disturb or surprise her in any way.

“You may enter.” Saoirse’s voice, although still somewhat gloomy, sounded just a bit better

today, as if she had a small, barely visible smile on her face. Daphne swiftly reached out and opened the door for Luc, revealing the princess’ neatly kept bedroom. She, herself, was sitting on her bed, blankets over her legs, staring out the window as she fidgeted the bandages on her hands.

He lowered his head as he walked through the door, whispering ‘Thank you’ to Daphne before it closed. Leaving the two royals alone in the room. He bowed his head anxiously, he never would’ve thought he’d have the strength to be here. “Princess.”

“Your Highness,” she greeted, turning towards him. Behind the curtains hung along her bed was a small smile on her face, her crimson eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “What brings you here? I heard from Daphne you were holding a banquet today.”

“What you heard is true, princess.” He agreed. Raising his head to let her meet his eyes, he said, “That is why I am here, to ask if you’d like to join us.”

Her smile faltered, and she frowned. “.. while I would love to,” she began, letting out a soft sigh, “I have no proper attire fit for Roxolian banquets. I haven’t had the chance to get any dresses tailored. And, also..” she paused before continuing, “I’m.. not sure they would like having me there.”

“Your presence alone would be a gift to many, that I can assure you.” He began; they could hear the faint sound of cheers from outside the windows. Smiling “You’re an Ithanian royal, princess. Blue doesn’t suit you.”

She let out a small laugh. “You certainly have a way with words, Prince,” she shook her head, her smile growing wider. “Alright, I concede. I will attend.”

With that, she pushed the numerous blankets off her body and stood up, her shenyi hanfu brushing against the wooden floor. When she turned to face Luc, the smile on her face—an unfamiliar sight, indeed—had brought one to his as well. 

“I will be ready in thirty minutes,” she said, fixing the sleeves of her robes. “You do not need to wait for me, you should return to the party.”

Luc’s eyes widen with joy, his smile widens, and he lets out a little chuckle. “Well then, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll have a seat ready for you, but do take as much time as you need.”

part 2 here!

[anovelpair]

[NSFW] APPLE

✒ . oc content :: daphne, xander

✒ . in which a sparring session turns into pure, unbridled need.

✒ . MDNI, SMUT :: f receiving, fingering, praise kink, choking, like headlock choking oh yes

THE courtyard was still and silent, only the sound of heavy, labored breathing from two individuals filling the cold, midnight air. moonlight spilled through the open roof, casting pale light over worn swords and scarred stone. the torches on the walls had long since burned down to embers.

daphne stood at the center, her breathing slow, and her gaze focused on the man in front of her. the tip of her blade glinted faintly under the moonlight, and her dark hair was braided tight, armor just barely undone at the collar. 

across from her stood xander—taller, broader, sweat-slicked from their sparring—the chainmail across his chest unbuckled, revealing the pale skin of his neck. his own longsword shared a similar glint to hers as he tilted it slightly by the hand. 

she eyed him cautiously, then scoffed, “you are holding back.”

”you’re exhausted,” he said simply, relaxing his stance, “i’m being merciful.”

she stepped closer, lowering her blade and challenging his gaze with a fire of her own. “i do not need your mercy, head knight.”

”hm. I suppose you don’t.” he tilted his head, voice dipping low as he matched her fiery eyes with a lowered, darkened gaze.

truthfully, this was not their first secret midnight rendezvous—sparring in secret, coordinating efforts in the shadows for the protection of their respective royals. but this—this was different.

the way the tension in the air shifted—not the sharp edge of a blade, but something slower, heavier—was different.

the way his gaze dropped to her lips.

and the way her gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest.

”i should go,” she said, and yet, her body betrayed her—she failed to move.

”you should.” he murmured, stepping closer.

his fingers brushed her wrist once, gently, just barely. she didn’t flinch, nor did she pull away. both their eyes dropped to the lingering touch momentarily. then, when they both looked up, their gazes met, and something clicked.

like two blades clashing, they kissed.

it wasn’t soft, no—it was pure, unbridled heat and restraint uncoiling after being held tight for far too long. her hands gripped at the rough linen of his shirt, dragging him closer. his were at her waist, gripping her like he wouldn’t dare let her pull away.

he backed her against one of the stone pillars, and she let out a soft grunt when her back fell flushed against the cold. his lips trailed down her jaw, across her throat, down to her collarbone. she exhaled sharply, fingers sliding up from his clothing into his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from his throat.

”someone could see,” she gasped softly, her eyelashes fluttering as his hands traveled from her waist up to her chest. ”xander—“

”they won’t,” he assured bluntly, his voice low, rough with want. “and I don’t care.”

“you—!” she was silenced immediately with his lips on hers. she gasped, and it was all the invitation he needed—they both shut their eyes, embroiled in a deep, passionate kiss. his hands, now on her shoulders, gently helped her remove the outer and middle layers of her ruqun, leaving her in her undergarments consisting of a makeshift binder made up of white bandages that concealed nothing.

armor clinked as it fell, and cloth fluttered, both items draped across the floor. her gloves, his belt, the layers they wore like armor—both literal and not—fell away with every moan, every grunt, every breathless pull of lips and tongue. for once, duty was the very last thing on their minds—instead, their bodies ached with a need, a want for something that had never belonged to them—and yet, it felt more real than anything else in their lives.

”tell me to stop,” he suddenly said, breathless—almost as if he were trying to convince himself. he looked up at him, hungry eyes met with a similar lust. “daphne.”

her gaze softened, and she shook her head once. ”never.”

“fuck.” he muttered—doomed.

his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, swiftly turning her around and pinning her against the pillar with an ease that made her stomach flutter. he then wrapped his arm across her throat, forearm pressing against her collarbone in a practiced, perfect headlock. 

she breathed out his name, eyes fluttering as she felt her body weaken against his grip. her back arched, hips instinctively bucking against his, pulling a sharp hiss from him. 

“you look too perfect like this,” he murmured hot against her ear, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

she whimpered, an unholy, guttural sound ripped from her throat as his other hand snaked between her thighs and sat plush against her cunt. he made a low chuckle, cooing, 

“you're soaking. how long?”

“unh— s- since I saw you,” her words drawled out into a pitiful whine, “xander..”

he hummed. “I know.”

she blinked, mouth agape as he slid two of his thick, calloused fingers inside her, her body tensing at the sudden intrusion. her moans were downright debauched, her words drowned into incoherent babbles because of the way his arm wrapped tightly around her throat, almost choking her. 

black spots danced across her vision, her eyelashes fluttering. sharp ringing passed through her head, and just as she was on the brink of passing out, she heard his voice in her ear, “not yet, daph. i'm far from done with you.”

her eyes rolled back, his fingers thrusting into her cunt at a hard, sloppy, fast pace. it was rough, wet, and the sounds they were making were near pornographic. she let out silent moans, spots she swore looked like pure dopamine now filling her blurred vision.

“xan—! mmh, ahn- fffuck!” she let out a whimper, her eyes glossing up with tears. she let them flow freely, and xander hissed, relishing at the feeling of her tears on his forearm. 

“fuck, doing so well,” he murmured, pounding into her faster. he pushed her up against the pillar, her cheek smushed against the cold stone. “that's it, good girl-"

“mmngh, fuuuck..” she drawled, voice slightly muffled, “gonna cum, gonna—!”

pitchy whines left her throat, her back arched and hips pressed flush against his as she came all over his fingers, coating them with her slick. 

“gooood girl,” he whispered, voice hot and needy. “fuck, daphne..”

“xander,” she swallowed, her mouth dry, “you.. this is.. no one can know. you know that, r- right?”

“I do,” he hummed, “just let me claim you tonight. please.”

her eyes fluttered closed, and she laughed. “as if I'll ever say no.”

a/n: yes those are their face claims huzzah

[anovelpair]

[NSFW] SNAP

✒ . in which your boyfriend, diablo kuznetsova, has some fun with you ! ♡

✒ . MDNI, f!ngering, overst!mulation, mild hypnok!nk, cond!tioning!!, diablo is mean, but u love it sooo

✒ . a/n :: yesyes.

“oh, you’re just so fucking stupid, aren’t you?”

diablo mused, running his thick, calloused fingers through your hair. as you began to cry out incoherently, voice twinged with a thick layer of desperation, he shushed you by wrapping his fingers around your hair—a firm grip against your scalp—tugging ever so gently.

”shh, baby,” he muttered, soft and hot whispers against your ear making your body shudder. “m‘sorry. didn’t mean that.”

oh, but you know he did. with his arm that was nearly the width of your torso wrapped around you in a punishing hold, firm against his toned chest, a hold that absolutely forbid you from doing anything else but sink deeper into the way he played with your cunt—merciless and so, so mean—driving your poor, muddled brain further into madness. you don’t even realize when he let go of your hair, his hand travelling down the expanse of your naked body and snugly fitting itself between your thighs.

diablo kuznetsova loved making you mad, in more ways than one. he loved teasing you and fucking around and finding out, and he loooved fucking your mind out, just like this.

his fingers grazed over your clit, relishing in the soft, slurred out noises you let out. he watched, a lazy smirk on his face, as your eyes rolled back when he slid two fingers into your wet cunt.

“oh, not so fast, pretty.” his grip on your body tightened, stopping you from rolling your hips. he enjoyed the drawled out whine you made, the way your jaw slacked when he started pushing the pads of his fingers against that gummy spot that made your body twitch. “yeaah, just like that, mm? feels good, doesn’t it? goood girl.”

“mhhn, nnhh.. diaa..”

he replied with a hum in your ear, one that sounded as if he was pondering on what else to do with you—you, and your quivering legs, your thighs soaked with ecstacy—what else could he possibly do to you? too bad you can barely think, let alone imagine what could, should be.

”you enjoying yourself, yeah?” he cooed almost mockingly, letting out a small chuckle when you nod. “look at you.. pretty, gorgeous dumb girl.”

your eyes began to flutter closed, your mind zeroing in on him, his actions, the pleasure, his words, his voice.

”my dumb girl..” his thumb rubbed lazy circles over your clit, causing your body to quiver intensely. god, if you weren’t so fucked out right now, you swore you’d punch out what you assumed to be a shit-eating grin on his face.

”uhn—!” you gasped, eyes briefly shooting open as he sped up the pace, pounding into your poor, needy pussy knuckles deep. the girth of his fingers alone, the skillful way he pushed against that one fucking spot—it all made you whine and babble helplessly, your hands gripping and nails scratching against his arm in desperation. “dia— dia, dia, so close, m’so—“

”yeah?” you swore you could hear this man’s grin grow wider. “cum for me, baby. be a good, dumb girl f’me and cum.”

suddenly, he snapped his fingers, just in time with your orgasm. the tight-wrapped coil in your lower abdomen uncurled itself roughly, and you let out the most sinful, wanton moans as his fingers slowed and began to fuck you through your high.

”oh, what a good girl,” he praised, “now.. cum again, pretty.”

he snapped his fingers again, and as if on command, you arched your back as another orgasm was violently pulled from your body. fuck, you didn’t even get a chance to think or rest—he just kept snapping his fingers every few minutes until you were letting out overstimulated yelps and sobs, the mattress under you soaking wet.

somehow, pushing away aaalll that pleasure that fucked up your mind, you realize what he's been trying to do the entire time he fingered or ate you out. he's been fucking conditioning you into cumming with a snap of his fingers.

“can’t— nnnooo, fuck, ah can’t an’more—“ you let out the most pitiful whine, staring up at diablo with tears in your hazy eyes. “diaaa, s’too much..”

”one more,” he spoke with a voice softer than you’d expected, with a kiss on your forehead to match. “m‘sorry, pretty, jus’ love seeing you like this. one more.”

oh.. well, what's the harm in saying yes? ♡

[anovelpair]

hello im in love with headlock fucking (see recent post).. dude should I write one for nanami..

[anovelpair]

[NSFW] FORBIDDEN

✒ . oc content :: daphne, xander

✒ . in which a sparring session turns into pure, unbridled need.

✒ . MDNI, SMUT :: f receiving, fingering, praise kink, choking, like headlock choking oh yes

THE courtyard was still and silent, only the sound of heavy, labored breathing from two individuals filling the cold, midnight air. moonlight spilled through the open roof, casting pale light over worn swords and scarred stone. the torches on the walls had long since burned down to embers.

daphne stood at the center, her breathing slow, and her gaze focused on the man in front of her. the tip of her blade glinted faintly under the moonlight, and her dark hair was braided tight, armor just barely undone at the collar. 

across from her stood xander—taller, broader, sweat-slicked from their sparring—the chainmail across his chest unbuckled, revealing the pale skin of his neck. his own longsword shared a similar glint to hers as he tilted it slightly by the hand. 

she eyed him cautiously, then scoffed, “you are holding back.”

”you’re exhausted,” he said simply, relaxing his stance, “i’m being merciful.”

she stepped closer, lowering her blade and challenging his gaze with a fire of her own. “i do not need your mercy, head knight.”

”hm. I suppose you don’t.” he tilted his head, voice dipping low as he matched her fiery eyes with a lowered, darkened gaze.

truthfully, this was not their first secret midnight rendezvous—sparring in secret, coordinating efforts in the shadows for the protection of their respective royals. but this—this was different.

the way the tension in the air shifted—not the sharp edge of a blade, but something slower, heavier—was different.

the way his gaze dropped to her lips.

and the way her gaze lingered on the exposed skin of his chest.

”i should go,” she said, and yet, her body betrayed her—she failed to move.

”you should.” he murmured, stepping closer.

his fingers brushed her wrist once, gently, just barely. she didn’t flinch, nor did she pull away. both their eyes dropped to the lingering touch momentarily. then, when they both looked up, their gazes met, and something clicked.

like two blades clashing, they kissed.

it wasn’t soft, no—it was pure, unbridled heat and restraint uncoiling after being held tight for far too long. her hands gripped at the rough linen of his shirt, dragging him closer. his were at her waist, gripping her like he wouldn’t dare let her pull away.

he backed her against one of the stone pillars, and she let out a soft grunt when her back fell flushed against the cold. his lips trailed down her jaw, across her throat, down to her collarbone. she exhaled sharply, fingers sliding up from his clothing into his hair, tugging hard enough to draw a low groan from his throat.

”someone could see,” she gasped softly, her eyelashes fluttering as his hands traveled from her waist up to her chest. ”xander—“

”they won’t,” he assured bluntly, his voice low, rough with want. “and I don’t care.”

“you—!” she was silenced immediately with his lips on hers. she gasped, and it was all the invitation he needed—they both shut their eyes, embroiled in a deep, passionate kiss. his hands, now on her shoulders, gently helped her remove the outer and middle layers of her ruqun, leaving her in her undergarments consisting of a makeshift binder made up of white bandages that concealed nothing.

armor clinked as it fell, and cloth fluttered, both items draped across the floor. her gloves, his belt, the layers they wore like armor—both literal and not—fell away with every moan, every grunt, every breathless pull of lips and tongue. for once, duty was the very last thing on their minds—instead, their bodies ached with a need, a want for something that had never belonged to them—and yet, it felt more real than anything else in their lives.

”tell me to stop,” he suddenly said, breathless—almost as if he were trying to convince himself. he looked up at him, hungry eyes met with a similar lust. “daphne.”

her gaze softened, and she shook her head once. ”never.”

“fuck.” he muttered—doomed.

his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, swiftly turning her around and pinning her against the pillar with an ease that made her stomach flutter. he then wrapped his arm across her throat, forearm pressing against her collarbone in a practiced, perfect headlock. 

she breathed out his name, eyes fluttering as she felt her body weaken against his grip. her back arched, hips instinctively bucking against his, pulling a sharp hiss from him. 

“you look too perfect like this,” he murmured hot against her ear, “you drive me fucking crazy.”

she whimpered, an unholy, guttural sound ripped from her throat as his other hand snaked between her thighs and sat plush against her cunt. he made a low chuckle, cooing, 

“you're soaking. how long?”

“unh— s- since I saw you,” her words drawled out into a pitiful whine, “xander..”

he hummed. “I know.”

she blinked, mouth agape as he slid two of his thick, calloused fingers inside her, her body tensing at the sudden intrusion. her moans were downright debauched, her words drowned into incoherent babbles because of the way his arm wrapped tightly around her throat, almost choking her. 

black spots danced across her vision, her eyelashes fluttering. sharp ringing passed through her head, and just as she was on the brink of passing out, she heard his voice in her ear, “not yet, daph. i'm far from done with you.”

her eyes rolled back, his fingers thrusting into her cunt at a hard, sloppy, fast pace. it was rough, wet, and the sounds they were making were near pornographic. she let out silent moans, spots she swore looked like pure dopamine now filling her blurred vision.

“xan—! mmh, ahn- fffuck!” she let out a whimper, her eyes glossing up with tears. she let them flow freely, and xander hissed, relishing at the feeling of her tears on his forearm. 

“fuck, doing so well,” he murmured, pounding into her faster. he pushed her up against the pillar, her cheek smushed against the cold stone. “that's it, good girl-"

“mmngh, fuuuck..” she drawled, voice slightly muffled, “gonna cum, gonna—!”

pitchy whines left her throat, her back arched and hips pressed flush against his as she came all over his fingers, coating them with her slick. 

“gooood girl,” he whispered, voice hot and needy. “fuck, daphne..”

“xander,” she swallowed, her mouth dry, “you.. this is.. no one can know. you know that, r- right?”

“I do,” he hummed, “just let me claim you tonight. please.”

her eyes fluttered closed, and she laughed. “as if I'll ever say no.”

a/n: yes those are their face claims huzzah

[anovelpair]

fuck me bro im finna write multi-part Daphne and Xander forbidden love type shi

[anovelpair]

drew xander & daphne mid-40s aka daddy and mommy beekeeping age !!

[anovelpair]

absolutely lovely birthday art ~ guys, you should give me your bdays I totally won’t draw for u <33

[anovelpair]

this is me drawing my partner as feminine as I possibly could

[anovelpair]

i love j love o loveiei lovei love

may or may not have been playing for nine days straight

[anovelpair]

CAN I BE YOUR PARTNER. are you looking for a mrs. st. claire

[anovelpair]

[NSFW] TIED HIM DOWN..

✒ . nanami kento x reader

✒ . in which your husband gives you a birthday gift !

✒ . a/n: tied him down 2 my queen beddd

“quite the unique birthday gift you’ve chosen, my love.”

you bit your bottom lip, muffling a giggle as you observed your work in front of you. tonight, your lovely husband, nanami kento, allowed you to do whatever you wanted with him for the night, a special treat for your birthday. and, in your classic mischievous fashion, what better way to celebrate it than to tie him up with a cute pink ribbon?

”i’m surprised you’re so calm about this,” you said, leaning in to plant a string of butterfly kisses down his neck. slyly, you raised your gaze up to find him looking down at you with—well, a soft gaze,—but an overall expression that was most unimpressed. “don’t look at me like thaat. you promised whatever.”

”that, I did,” he conceded with a sigh, “I suppose I can’t go back on my word now, hm?”

”absolutely not.” you lowered your gaze towards his toned body, her fingers ghosting across his torso, relishing in the way his chest heaved with every lingering touch. you began trailing downwards with your kisses, aaall the way down to his lower body, where you stopped in front of his shaft—red, angry, leaking with pre-cum. you licked your lips like a starved woman, contrasting how you started off with gentle kitten licks all the way up to the head of his cock, where she then opened her mouth and took the tip in,

he threw his head back against the headboard and groaned—loud, shameless—his body instinctively relaxing at the feeling of such warmth. “is this what you’re gonna do to me, pretty girl?” he chuckled dryly, unable to hide the blush that creeped onto his cheeks, and hell, his whole body. “if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was my birthday.”

you responded to his cheeky remark by sinking your head deeper, taking in more of his length until the tip hit the back of your throat, making those mild gagging noises you just knew he loved. it wasn’t until now did he realize the struggle of being tied up like this—well, it wasn’t tight enough to hold him at all, but he didn’t want to make you upset by breaking it just so he could grab a fistful of your hair and have his way with you.

as for you, you were noticing how boring it was to be in control. you would, without fail, bend to his every whim and lay on your shared bed, taking all of him like a good girl, a loving wife. he scanned your face—tried to look past the gloss in your eyes and the way you drooled all over his thighs—and seemed to recognize genuinity in your furrowed eyebrows.

“my poor girl,” he chuckled lowly, “you don’t know what to do, do you? that’s okay.” he assured, restraining himself from breaking free and gently stroking your hair. “i‘ll tell you, how about it?”

a small hum in your throat was enough of an answer, the vibrations going straight to his cock and making his breath hitch.

“start moving your head, up and down, beautiful.”—when you did as he said, he groaned out softly. the heavy breathing, the way he stared down at you with fluttering eyes made you feel so warm inside—“mhm, just like that. hollow your cheeks, baby— fuck, there you go.. such a good girl for me.”

you whined quietly, lips stretched out around his girth. everytime you willed your head down, you gagged, and it drove him fucking crazy. the way you looked up at him with those teary, doe eyes.. how upset would you be if he actually tore the ribbons and claimed you, pumping your throat and cunt so full you would be left a twitching mess on the bed?

guess he’ll have to make up for ruining your gift some other time—after all, you’ve still got valentine’s day.

[anovelpair]

nanami fails to give you enough attention for a day. you throw a small, adult sized tantrum and swipe swipe swipe on that credit card of his he gave you

when he gets a call for multiple unverified purchases he just goes "that's my wife." and hangs up

smiling a little while he works because of how endearing he finds you

[anovelpair]

MDNI !

eiffel tower 3some with nanami and gojo wherein gojo is a mean, rough, relentless, teasing little shit and nanami, sweet man, just wants you to feel good (wipes the tears gojo makes) (as if he doesn't want to ruin you too)