#I though of this whilst in my mind palace

[sickiepickle]

Scientist 1: Yo, bro. Look at that bird over there. What do you think we should call it??

Scientist 2: Well, it has uniquely blue feet, so how about ‘The Blue Footed Bird’?

Scientist 1: …

Scientist 1: …y’know what would be hilarious

[rubysunnday]

wanting was enough

requested by @omgbrcat: If you're willing to write for Nikolai, I'm ready to read.

a/n: they asked for fluffy... this is not fluffy like at all and for that i am sorry (i promise to write nik fluff to make up for it) ty ryn for your help

summary: Y/N has loved Nikolai since the day she met him. But now, as the blood begins to run, she has to come to terms with the fact that he'll never be hers.

The room was filled with people she knew, yet Y/N had never felt more alone or more broken.

Nikolai and Alina were engaged and Y/N found herself grieving for something she'd never had. It was an odd thing to feel a part of a group whilst also feeling a million miles away from everyone and everything.

She'd loved Nikolai since the day they'd met in the middle of Kerch, surrounded by people who wanted them dead. From there, friendship had been easy and when she'd sheepishly revealed her Grisha abilities to him - he'd enlisted Tamar and Tolya to teach her how to use them and control them.

Yet, despite the practice, her heartrender talents were still weak and, in Y/N's mind, pathetic. She understood that years of neglect and no practice would do that to someone, but it didn't help. Her confidence was non-existent and when she was surrounded by far more talented Grisha and a living Saint such as Alina, Y/N felt tiny.

Seeing Nikolai and Alina holding hands stung more than it should have. She was used to Nikolai being affectionate with people - affection was how he showed his love. But this was different. Y/N had hardly seen him since they'd gotten back to the palace and something had clearly changed between them.

Either that or it was all in Y/N's mind. She was spending a lot of time inside her head at the minute, doubting herself, doubting her abilities and her place in Nikolai's crew.

She could hear Nikolai's heartbeat from across the room - it's sound familiar and comforting to her in a way it shouldn't have been. Not anymore.

He wasn't hers and never could be hers.

She wasn't sure when friendship had turned to wanting and longing but it had. And she was trying her best to deal with it. To accept that he would never be hers.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Y/N turned and tried not to look startled at Nikolai's sudden appearance by her side. She hadn't even registered him walking over to her. Nikolai grinned crookedly at her and Y/N felt her heart swoop and glide like a bird in the breeze.

"Just wondering what your mother's definition of a big party is when this is a small one," Y/N replied, picking up a glass from a nearby tray and drinking its contents in one swoop.

Nikolai laughed, readjusting his weight from one foot to the other, his right shoulder brushing against Y/N's left. "She likes a party, what can I say. Anything under sixty people and it's intimate."

"I don't even know sixty people," Y/N replied. "I don't think I even know ten."

"It's never about the quantity of friends, it's about the quality," Nikolai replied. "A small, close friend group is better than a distant large one." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "I considered you one of my close friends."

Y/N forced herself to grin at him and tried to ignore how much the words stung at her heart. "Oh," she pointed over at Vasily as he stood up on the dais next to his father, "I think your brother is about to make a speech. You should probably go stand next to your mother and pretend to be interested."

Getting Nikolai to laugh was easy for Y/N, but even though she'd done it many times before, the sound still sent fire coursing through her veins. It wasn't the guarded laugh of a privateer. Or the forced laughter of a prince. It was just Nikolai's laugh.

"I'll be back," he warned, pointing a finger at her. "We need to discuss what you mean by pretending - I always find my brother fascinating."

"Of course you do." Y/N nodded. "I believe that, one hundred percent."

She watched as Nikolai disappeared into the crowd, appearing at his mother's side, ever the doting son. Y/N was impressed with herself that she'd managed to avoid bringing up the engagement. She hadn't had a chance to even mention it to Nikolai - it didn't seem appropriate. But she needed to know if it was genuine or just for show. She need to know for her own mind. How else would she ever be able to move on and accept she was stuck wanting for forever.

Vasily's speech started and Y/N zoned out entirely. He was a weasel of a human and represented everything wrong with Ravka in so many ways. He never had anything interesting or important to say.

It was only because she wasn't listening to Vasily that Y/N noticed the room gradually getting darker. The sun seemingly disappearing and then reappearing only to disappear once again.

She tilted her head back and, as she did so, two shapeless shadows smashed through the glass of the skylight, slamming into the ground and taking two of the first army guards out with them. One of the shadows grabbed Vasily and, in a blink of an eye, ripped him apart.

The screaming started instantly. Y/N's eyes focused on the shadows and she realised with cold horror that they were Kirigan's Nichevo'ya. At once, she began looking for Alina, who was safely on the other side of the room with Tamar and Adrik.

The Nichevo'ya shot towards her and Y/N dodged out the way, turning and running away - because what else could she do? They had no heartbeats and, even if they did, she wouldn't be able to take them down. She wasn't strong enough.

"Y/N!"

Nikolai snatched her hand and pulled her to his side as a table flew across the room, a body following in its path. Y/N gripped Nikolai's jacket for a moment before she let go and forced herself to take a step back, to create space between them.

"Down to the tunnels!" Nikolai yelled, raising his voice to be heard over the screaming. He began to move backwards, his hand still on Y/N's arm. "Regroup there!"

As Adrik and Nadia distracted the Nichevo'ya as best they could, the small party that had gathered behind Nikolai began to follow their now king and had down to the tunnels beneath the palace.

Y/N brought up the rear of the group, keeping one eye over her shoulder incase the Nichevo'ya decided to follow after them. But they seemed content to feast on those left behind in the ballroom.

She was so focused on making sure the Nichevo'ya weren't following, that Y/N didn't even notice cracks in the walls beginning to form and then splinter up and around.

Only when she saw the first piece of wall fall did she even realise what was happening. She turned around and there was no one behind her - they'd all made it through to the tunnels, including Nikolai, leaving her alone out in the corridor.

For a moment, she wondered if anyone would miss her if she disappeared.

Another piece of wall fell and, as it did, a Nichevo'ya began to appear from around a corner, it's shape constantly changing as the shadows withered and curled.

Y/N brought her hands together, searching for a heartbeat to control, but there was none. Of course there wasn't. They were made of nothing.

The cracks had reached the ceiling and more rubble fell down, smashing against the floor all around her. A particularly large piece fell away and Y/N threw herself back, barely avoiding its impact as she scrabbled across the tiled floor, trying to get to the tunnel entrance.

Her body wasn't cooperating, fear of the Nichevo'ya striking through her and rendering her almost useless. She tried not to look up at the skull like face forming in the shadows, but it was impossible to look away as it loomed over her. Almost as if she'd been hypnotised by them.

"Y/N!"

Hands came around her waist and they yanked her up and onto her feet. The roof was falling down around them now, large chunks of stone smashing into pieces on the tiles, the small bits flying back up into the air. Y/N felt something whizz past her cheek, leaving a stinging line behind.

Everything was a blur. As the rest of the ceiling came away, the Nichevo'ya launched forward, its tendrils snaking towards Y/N. They sliced down her arm and, as they made contact, Y/N brought her left hand to her right and felt something within the mass of black.

Focusing on that and that alone, Y/N forced it to slow down, to stop. Sensing danger, the tendrils came away, retreating back into the shadows. As they did, the ceiling gave way. Whoever had grabbed her from behind pushed her into the tunnels and then darkness obscured her vision.

"Y/N, look at me."

Hands rested on both her cheeks. A thumb stroked up and down her cheek bone. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark light of the tunnels, and the panic and fear began to fade, Nikolai came into view, his eyes full of concern.

"You good?" He asked softly, his eyes darting to her arm for a moment before coming back to her face.

"Sorry," Y/N said, blinking furiously. "I froze. I didn't mean to, I should've -"

"Hey, there's plenty of things we all should have done," Nikolai said gently, his thumb pressing lightly against her skin as he moved it up and down. "The Nichevo'ya do weird things to people. But we're safe, we made it into the tunnels."

Nikolai's words did little to reassure her. Instead, they made Y/N panic even more. She moved back from him and got to her feet, leaving Nikolai crouched in front of an empty space.

"You need to go see what's going on," Y/N said, putting more distance between them. "You are the king now."

A hundred different emotions filtered across Nikolai's face. His eyes seemed to grow slightly harder and his back straightened. As he went to speak, a guard appeared at his side and began to lead him away and down into the tunnels, leaving Y/N alone once more.

Y/N took a deep breath in and swore softly as she felt her arm burning and stinging for the first time. She looked down and saw a gash running from her shoulder down to her elbow.

Y/N winced as she tentatively pulled back the fabric from her arm, trying to see it better. The edges were bright red and blood was running down and to her wrist, dripping off her fingers.

She didn't feel fine but, for now, she pushed her pain and exhaustion aside, pushing herself off the wall she'd come to lean on.

The tunnels were organised chaos. Bodies lay against the walls, covered with blankets, flags, sacks - whatever people could find. Y/N walked, rather stumbled, down them, searching for her friends, hoping they were still alive and in one piece.

It wasn't long before she found them. Adrik was groaning in pain, swearing as quietly as he could as David examined his arm, his hands gently pulling away the shredded fabric from the gaping wounds on his arm and hand.

Y/N picked up her pace and rushed over to them, kneeling down beside David. "What happened?"

"Fucking Nichevo'ya," Adrik panted. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly as David pressed on the skin around the wound.

"Y/N," Nadia said, her arms around her brother, "can you do anything?"

"I'm not a healer," Y/N warned, her hand gently replacing David's as she took Adrik's arm.

"I don't care," Adrik said, groaning. "Just do something."

Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath in, trying to ignore the throbbing in her own arm. Her hands shook slightly.

David put a hand on her uninjured shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You can do it," he said quietly.

Y/N focused on Adrik's arm, on the skin and the blood thrumming through his veins and spilling out onto the floor. She could feel her energy seeping out through her body as she worked on Adrik's arm, trying to slow the bleeding and heal what she could.

As she did, she felt the pain in her arm gradually growing. It was hard to tell if the room was tilted or if she herself was tilting.

"Y/N," Tamar said softly. Y/N wasn't sure when she'd appeared. "Your arm."

"It's fine," Y/N said. She took a deep breath in as the pain got worse, her arm throbbing and burning.

Then, suddenly, it wasn't fine. Y/N felt the all to familiar feeling of nausea building up in her throat, her heart beat increased as her body ran out of energy.

Y/N swayed and she fell sideways and into David, the Durast doing his best to catch her.

Tamar was instantly at her side, her hand gripping Y/N's tightly. She pressed her fingers to her pulse point and Y/N felt the all too familiar feeling of someone else controlling her heartbeat.

"Adrik," Y/N muttered, slumping further back into David's chest, his arms wrapping around her.

"Nadia's got him," Tamar said, reaching her spare hand out to stroke Y/N's cheek. "You should've said something. Your arm is not fine."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the tears burning. She didn't know if they were from the pain or because of how useless she felt. "I'm fine," Y/N said, trying to sit up.

Both David and Tamar pushed her back down - neither one having to use much force at all.

"Nikolai!"

Y/N felt panic rise within her as Tamar summoned the now king over to them. Tamar glanced down at her, her eyebrows raised slightly, and Y/N realised her heart had also sped up.

Fucking heartrenders.

"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked, walking over to them.

He didn't see Y/N until he moved around David and saw her lying against him, blood pooling on the floor from the wound on her arm, Tamar's hand still on her wrist.

"Y/N, saints," Nikolai said, instantly dropping to his knees beside her.

Y/N vaguely realised that he'd shed his blazer and rolled his shirt sleeves up. His hands hovered over her arm, shaking every so slightly.

"She's losing too much blood," Tamar said quietly, trying her best to not alarm Y/N, who was gradually getting paler.

Nikolai nodded. "There's a healer down the tunnel with the courtiers."

Tamar, sensing Nikolai's hesitation, let go of Y/N's hand and stood up. "I'll go get them. See if you can find a bed or somewhere to lay her down."

Y/N didn't realise Nikolai had moved closer to her and slipped his arms around her back and under her legs until he lifted her up into his arms, adjusting his shoulder so that her head came to rest against it.

"David, stay with Adrik and Nadia," Nikolai said, taking a step back. "Tamar will be back soon."

Y/N was in too much pain to even try to fight Nikolai as he carried her through the tunnels. Through her half closed eyes, she could see the stares coming their way - the judgement and disgust all aimed at her.

But she didn't care. Because Nikolai was holding her close and, for a moment, she felt as if everything was ok. Nikolai was hers and only hers.

Everything faded away, leaving her floating around, relishing each touch, each way Nikolai's bare arms brushed against her.

"Y/N!"

She jumped slightly, her eyes slowly opening, taking their time to focus. Nikolai was knelt beside her, his hands cradling hers. Y/N realised that he was no longer carrying her and that she was lying down in a quieter part of the tunnels.

As her eyes focused, she noticed that Nikolai's eyes were red, his skin starting to go blotchy. Y/N moved her head slightly and saw Tamar kneeling behind her, one hand on her chest, the other on Nikolai's arm.

"Your heart stopped," Nikolai said quietly, when he noticed her confused gaze. "You went still and I..." Nikolai's voice cracked and he trailed off.

Tamar squeezed his arm as she stood up, leaving the two alone. The healer, who Y/N had only just noticed, also gave them some privacy, moving on to his next patient. Y/N glanced down at her arm and saw that it had stopped bleeding, the edges of the wound closer than they had been.

"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, not sure what to say to Nikolai.

Nikolai raised his head, his eyes shining with tears. "Whatever for?"

Y/N didn't know. "I -"

"This is not your fault," Nikolai said, somehow moving closer. "None of this is."

One hand let go of hers, moving up to the side of her head. He began to brush back her hair with the pad of his thumb, the movement repetitive and calming enough it almost sent Y/N to sleep.

"Is Adrik ok?" Y/N asked, the memory of his ruined arm coming back at her with force.

Nikolai hesitated for a second. "He lost the arm," he said gently. "But he's alive, because of you."

"I could've done more," Y/N protested, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. "If I'd been stronger or better -"

"The outcome would not have changed," Nikolai insisted, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Even the healer couldn't do anything more. What you did do, saved his life, Y/N."

Y/N nodded once, more tears spilling onto her cheeks. "Is this not improper?" She asked as Nikolai reached over to her other cheek, wiping the tears away again.

"What?" He asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"You're engaged," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as a sob broke through.

It took a second but understanding dawned on Nikolai's face and he let out a heavy breath, tinged with sadness.

"Oh, Y/N," he whispered. "You could've -"

"I couldn't, Nik," she said hoarsely. "I had to presume that it was just me - you had your eyes set on every other woman about and I -"

"No, stop that right now," Nikolai said, leaning close. "I... I have loved you since the moment I met you. I just assumed you loved Sturmhond, not Nikolai."

"I love you," Y/N said, her voice strong. "I love whoever you chose to be. Whether it's prince or pirate -"

"Privateer."

" - king or pauper," Y/N finished, her voice quiet as whatever energy had come disappeared. "I love whoever you chose to be. I just love you, Nikolai."

Nikolai nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He leant forward, resting his head against Y/N's chest and her fingers began to running through his hair and down to the nape of his neck.

She knew he was listening to her heart beating. She was doing exactly the same. The sound familiar and comforting for all the right reasons.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

rrriiight i was thinking of a hualian x reader thing. the reader is a bit cold and apathetic but caring of two certain people and had been all the way through with hualian like for example, had served xie lian when he was still a prince or helped hong er from time to time. but somehow they just vanished and never came back.

surprise surprise, whilst hualian and some other gods were on a mission, they got attacked let’s say (or were in danger) and guess who came to save them? reader! and thats when it clicks for hualian. that was you. you weren’t gone. so- they never let you get away ever again.

just an idea that came to mind :D

In the Back of Your Mind

Hua Cheng x gn!reader x Xie Lian

I'm so sorry it took so long! I try to put my life updates in my bio, but I've been very busy moving houses! So I'm rlly sorry and I hope this is good!

I didn't know if you wanted reader to be a ghost or a god but I made them a ghost

Because gods don't usually disappear for like ever? Idk uhm if you don't like that just tell me and I'll edit it!

Made up a scenario that puts Xie Lian and Hua Cheng at a disadvantage

Ignore grammar mistakes

Slight OOC!!!

Made up details about reader and their life

____________________________________

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are very happy with their relationship and their life

But something's missing

Someone's missing

They haven't seen you in a very, very long time

It's been centuries actually and you still haven't shown up

But they haven't forgotten you, even though you've been missing or maybe even dead they still think about you in the back of their head.

Xie Lian misses you dearly

You had served Xie Lian during XianLe and had always been by his side.

You took your job seriously and it was your first priority to keep Xie Lian happy

You served him well and fought for him too

Your loyalty to Xie Lian was deep and everyone could see it

Everyone knew you loved him besides Xie Lian of course.

Because it was obvious! You wouldn't utter a word to anyone else

Your presence was a cold force to anyone besides Xie Lian

You were always quick to create space with anyone who came near him too.

It seemed like you couldn't care less for anyone else's problems but Xie Lian's.

Not that it mattered to you, as long as you could stay by his side it didn't matter what you were

Whether you were his servant or guard, whether you were next to him or below him, whether he used you as a step or tool.

You never minded, you'd do anything for him even if he wouldn't do those things.

You stayed by his side when Mu Qing and Feng Xin disappeare

You stayed when his palace fell

When his parents died

When Xie Lian started on a bad path

When he turned meaner, rougher, and angrier so that he wouldn't be hurt by the world again

When he grieved because he had been done wrong

You stayed with Xie Lian for as long as you could, and you loved him deeply every second of it.

But then someone took you from Xie Lian.

You never came back

Hua Cheng misses you just as dearly.

You took care of Xie Lian so well and then you just disappeared

When Hong er as caught by Xie Lian obviously he couldn't take care of Hong er by himself

But when Xie Lian was busy, everyone else was too disgusted to touch him

And Hong er didn't want to be in anyone else's arms either

You were different though, even though you were a servant like Mu Qing and Feng Xin you reacted differently

You held Hong er gently, as if the mongrel child would fall to pieces in your arms

You wouldn't let anyone touch him or try to kick him out of the palace

Always quick, you would settle a cold glare on someone if they tried to pull Hong er from your arms

Taking care of Hong er was just as serious as taking care of Xie Lian to you

You spent a lot of time with His Cheng like that

So after Hua Cheng's first death he searched and searched and searched

He never found the two of you

When Hua Cheng had finally found Xie Lian he was so excited to finally see you both again!

Even though he doesn't want to reveal his secret just yet, he hopes the two of you won't find him disgusting for his actions

But. . . You weren't there.

Don't get him wrong Hua Cheng is very happy to see one of the loves of his life after searching so long but you have never left Xie Lian's side so where are you?

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng continued their relationship and their story without you

Which was unfortunate but what could they do?

They had both tried to search for you and found you no where

Things are always changing though

🦊🪷

It was just another mission, and it should've been quick and easy. Especially since Xie Lian and Hua Cheng tagged along. Hua Cheng was only here for Xie Lian though, no one else. The mission didn't go smoothly though.

Missions rarely go smoothly when you're in the dark woods, with lots of monsters, and a heavy fog covers the forest. Not smooth at all when lower gods are bickering with Hua Cheng and Xie Lian.

They all got lost and wherever they ended up in these dark woods, had a block on the arrays. Xie Lian can't call for help or reach the heavens and neither can the other gods. What's worse! Powers are blocked too! It's like they've all stumbled upon an area of complete silence as if they were muted.

So even Hua Cheng is struggling a little bit right? Can't break the blocking energy source if you can't find it! Of course the gods all split up, leaving Xie Lian and Hua Cheng alone. It doesn't matter to Hua Cheng if his powers have been weakened or not he'll still do everything he can to protect Xie Lian from the monsters in the woods.

The more time Xie Lian and Hua Cheng stand around in the fog the more things they see. The deeper they go, the thicker the fog gets. And the thick the fog gets the more people they start to see the more things they start to see. It's not a good thing though, it's all illusions and they figured that out quickly when Hua Cheng swipes at a humanoid figure that looks just like Xie Lian.

Xie Lian doesn't have the time to solve the problem because him and Hua Cheng have a big possibility of being hurt right now. E-ming and rouye refuse to move. Hua Cheng will happily use his body and hands to defend Xie Lian if he has to though. Xie Lian says that's silly and chooses to run, dragging Hua Cheng along with him. The foggy ghosts only chase, and it's hard to run in such thick fog.

In fact the fog is so thick that eventually after running so long the ghosts give up on running after them. Xie Lian thought they were safe now but when he looks back Hua Cheng is gone.

Xie Lian shouts for him and tries to look around but the more he looks around the fog the more humanoid figures he sees. they're just. . . Fog. If Xie Lian could see Hua Cheng right now and he still wouldn't know if it was the real one.

The fog is dangerous, creating illusions of people Xie Lian already knows or things from his past, trying to trick him. He's only more lost and he doesn't know how to get out of this mess. It's actually very stressful, how does the fog know all these things, how is it forming the people he used to know and love?

Hua Cheng is in the same predicament. He wanders around the fog and at one point he thought he found Xie Lian again but when his hand wrapped around Xie Lian's arm, the figure turned in vapor. They're both lost. They're both being surrounded by crowds of foggy figures.

Just before the foggy figures are able to touch them the fog disperses though. A loud screech Is heard in the air, a sudden cold breeze blowing past Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, then the fog settles down. It turns out they weren't that far from each other at all and Xie Lian has never run into Hua Cheng's arms faster.

When they both see a foggy figure again they get nervous. One, because the fog has dispersed so they thought they were safe now. Two, it looks like you. Xie Lian already hates the fog he's already seen awful things but he doesn't want to see you like this. Not the fake you.

He can't help but tear up when 'you' try to urge him to come forward, but with the fog gone so is the blocked energy. Xie Lian shoots rouye out, trying to make the awful sight go away by rouye wraps around a surprisingly very sturdy wrist. You grip on rouye and pull Xie Lian forward a little, uttering a small "Dianxia, Hong er"

They know it's you, even though it seems so unbelievable. Xie Lian is literally jumping on you and knocking you to the ground. Hua Cheng manages to act a little more suave but he'd be a liar to say he isn't astonished. It's just a big pile of tears, embraces, and "I love you's".

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng waste no time bringing you home, they cling on to you desperately. Even if you just want to explore Paradise Manor it doesn't matter, both of them are at your side. They absolutely refuse to let you go. As if they're scared, if they look away you'll vanish again. Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just won't let that happen! They love you very much and they've missed out many years of loving and caring for you. They plan to repay all the missed affections

____________________________________

Uhhhh here it is! I hope it's good 🤔 honestly I feel a little eh about this but let me know what y'all think 🖤I don't know if this is exactly what you were imagining anon but if it wasn't this make another submission in like deeper, exact details and I'll try again okay!

[bloodsoeur]

ivory tower 18+ ASCENDED!ASTARION X AFAB!READER, 4.6K

Something deeply sordid, raw; ungodsly. There’ll be no Lathandrian blessing for your young, no gentle welcome into some family fayre on the outskirts of the city; but you want this.

woah boy! my first ascended astarion piece, so please be kind! dal is back babey! woooo! thank you to @bhaalism and @lipstickghoulie for dealing with me while writing this i love you both endlessly. wc: 4.6k cw: afab reader, female language used. breeding, mind-control, p in v, ascended astarion, public fingering, private banging, great times all round, as always if there are errors no there aren't, creampies, yippee

Baldur’s Gate doesn’t sleep. Not really.

She sometimes slows just enough to find some purchase amongst the muddle, though - tiptoes lazy through highsun in soft linens, the burgeoning swell of soap suds and sunny rosemary through wide open wooden shutters. Lingering - sweat-soaking worn leathers, the sore of the flex in the arch of your foot splayed over cobble. As if to grasp at the memory, your fingers stretch out from your side and on to the dark oak of the armrest, in a moment of sheer jubilance. Summer. The sun. Wide bright mornings. Hopeful and hot as a bated breath. 

The city ambles onward this evening, no different despite the inclement weather and the din of an early darkness. Half-lidded through dark streets as rain smatters the roofs with wet, glistening something dozy under the tall oil street lamps and swirls of ever-present heavy fog. Gurgling whilst each drain fills with water and swallows deep into the sewers. 

Scatters the hay, bears the slip; sings a slow drunken stutter of thunder-wind whiling at the windows into the small hours. There’s a comfort to be found in it. 

The harbour bell will go on to toll for every sail weary ship coming in from the fog; the crescent caress of the Gate’s waiting arms lit low with oily dots of amber. That even this late into the night the bands of trawlers on the dock work crates and barrels into cargo holds with worn hands and ruddy cheeks. The gulls and their scattering squawks. The flapping of their fat feathered wings up into the clouds. 

From where you sit in the Ivory Tower you can hardly see anything at all. Fog obscures the streets to a point, other than the light patches under the oil lanterns out on the ramparts. The window runs dripping wet with condensation. Pools under the pane. 

A hideaway of sorts within the manor. Newly reclaimed by Astarion in some deal with the quivering council in order to keep him sweet. Not that he has any armies of undead in his retainer to command as yet, but they don’t need to know that. There’s time. You’re still blessedly mortal and able.

Astarion. 

He should be skulking the halls somewhere below with that unnerving silent step he’s taken to using. Your cheeks grow warm, the blanket over your shoulders pulled closer into your chest as you allow your mind to run wild; the scald of bliss to your brain like that of some ironmonger’s poker, split straight to the core. 

Your love. Your lover. 

Amongst his many newfound desires and passions seemingly includes the impetus to redesign a centuries-old palace from scratch, and while you doubt he has the want nor willpower to take the project anywhere near to completion you’re more than happy to indulge him during this burst of creativity. A designer’s eye. Lavish yet not ostentatious, he tells you. Your own private wing of the palace, and one you’ll share together. He has no need for his own private chambers. You’re the only one he wants to be beside. You understand that at its essence, it isn’t even necessarily a want to design for creativity’s sake, it’s important to you both to have every memory of the residence’s former owner gone. Every threadbare tread of carpet, every scuff on the wall; every painting being demounted by workers downstairs and shipped to the auction house first thing in the morning. You can hear them if you still enough, heart still beating in your chest and the low chunter of layman gossip.

The version of him you knew before his ascension was so very scared. Beautiful, but wavering. You loved him of course; and you always will  - it was that version of him, the one lost in the wilderness that you fell for, and gods; you fell hard - frenetic and whiny, fleeting as light snow never to settle on the forest floor. Wild-eyed. 

But this Astarion - the real Astarion, as far as he is concerned - has you completely and utterly enraptured each day you wake together, the same as ever, from the second your eyes open. Wrapped in those Daerlunian-import plush linens atop your gargantuan newly-installed four poster bed. Face of marble with those cattish dark lashes and eyes of carnelian crush. Enchants every room he walks into, as he always has. 

You don’t know he’s with you until a hand ghosts your shoulder, sinewy; with those deft pale fingers deep encroaching on your collarbone in his grasp. 

“I didn’t hear you, lover.”

“But I heard you.’

He circles round the velvet armchair, resplendent in his home finery. Not a crease to be seen. Voice soft, yet laced with a bristling concern.

‘Why do you insist on sitting up here?”

You err for a brief moment. 

“I can hear the rain on the roof, here. See some bustle when the fog clears. The city goes on.” You shake your head with a smile as he crouches beside you, nestling his head in the crook of your arm.

“But it’s cold. Dark. Come down - I can light the fire in our sitting room if you like?” 

“We have so many centuries yet to see together! What sense is there in not observing the world as it is now? Keeping record of the city as we saved it?”

His head lifts and his eyes meet yours, some churlish quirk of a brow in the low light.

“An archivist, now? Is that to be your profession alongside me? Whilst you raise our young?”

“If I wish it to be, yes.”

He laughs, a gentle low hum.

“Then an archivist you’ll be - the most renowned in all the lands. We’ll make it so.’ He stands once more and takes your hands from your lap, bringing them clasped to his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. 

‘I’ll begin planning on your archives - I presume you’ll want a library? Or something similar in your wing, maybe even an office. Who knows?”

Astarion looks to the room around you, the shapes covered with old canvas and the rickety floorboards underfoot. Cobwebs in the corner. There’s no grimace nor displeasure. He simply surveys as cool as still water. Objective.

“I’ll have some of the merchants relay their contacts come morning too. If you insist on expanding your territory up here then it must befit you.”

“Befit me?” You grin now. His hold on your hands remains secure.

“If you want me to say it, then I suppose I will. As many times as it takes to get it through that heavy skull of yours.’

His smile reaches his eyes as he circles back behind your chair, fingers splayed over your shoulders once more in a deep round kneading pattern.

‘There’s nothing you won’t have if you want for it. Nothing too good for you to covet, my solace; Saviour to the whole Sword Coast and every plain mite within its bounds.’

There’s a small pause as he bows to kiss the top of your head.

‘And I thank the stars every day that I can provide for you. That you saw the potential in me and lifted me higher, to such profane glory amongst the swill of common man. That my gold, my influence, and terror, and each lift of my blade is at your command and yours alone. That you stayed at my side.” 

He doesn’t like to mention the gods, hence the stars. Pointedly brings the grimace back into play, occasionally even furrows with the slightest twinge of anger brewing at his brow. The gods had no role to play in your shared victories. No divine intervention saved him from two hundred years of torment, from certain death after the crash of the nautiloid along that sun-soaked span of rocky beach;-

You did. You with your strange inclination toward the weak man he once was. The shell he lived in like a hermit crab on the shore, nothing more.

-

On bright days, you thank him for giving you time.

Time to live, time to breathe with full lungs. Time to allow you to burn your eyes in the beating sun with a silver pot of fresh coffee and whatever ridiculous spew the papers hold between the pages today. 

You know as you sit in comfortable silence that your time dwindles, and that your turning is inevitable. Your eternal wedded bliss is to be alongside him and will be as vivid in nature as all the colours of the astral plane, if he’s to be believed - and there’s no reason not to see his word as gospel. You can see each moment as crystalline as sea glass on sand. Forever with the man you love more than you’ve ever felt inclined to love anything. The bridal ceremony is but a drop in the vast ocean of your lives together. 

He thanks you too. Often alongside you with eyes closed in some dozy recline, forearm hanging lazily whilst he takes the sun on his skin like a blessing. A loose linen shirt akin to the one he wore back at camp at the start of your journey together, strings wide open, a blaze of blinding flesh at the corner of your eye each time he shifts.

The veranda on a clear day. Astarion has assured you he’ll never take this from you. He’ll never take anything that you don’t willingly give him with a clear heart - and why would you give him your ability to bask in the sun, like a street cat in days-warm dust? What purpose does that serve either of you, beyond making you a less useful weapon in his prized arsenal?

At one point, all you wanted was to talk to him - and it rings true even now. The want to be the bearer of all his tales. To learn about him, to be close to him; to hear him tear the world apart with that dulcet snarl, walking alongside each other on the barren dirt trails out in the wilderness. Hop-skipping to keep up with his quiet gait. Giving him back as good as you got. The glimmer of his hair in the sunlight, the way he’d sometimes just stop.

Close his eyes. Feel the heat. The gentle burn of highsun on tender flesh. A soft inhale.

That morning out in the clearing after your first night together. Arms outstretched in a welcome to the light. It had taken a few minutes for it to click as you’d silently watched on, why his sun salutation was so fond. So open.

It’s to be a long engagement with regard to your transformation whilst the manor undergoes renovations. Reason after reason as to why now isn’t the ideal time to commit you to eternity. You know why he wants to keep a hold on your precious mortality for the time being, of course; and that keeps you from the forever embrace of his Dark Kiss. It never changes. 

You’ll allow him to sire your children. You want him to. Crave it. Him.

Your very own lineage together, he whispers; frenzied by your ear as his fingers crawl the bare span of your thigh. He can breed you full like fate intended and you’ll have something - besides him - that’ll also last forever. Something of your own surpassing the death of all of your contemporaries. The Vampire Ascendant and The Saviour of Baldur’s Gate, flesh-on-flesh, skin smacking skin; his debauched groans and lewd whimpers as he buries himself inside you, your cooing breaths;-

You’ll wed normally too, for the interested eyes of the city. Some dull ceremony with the elites adorning all tables as gilded pieces might some decorative chess board, deceptive vows. Legally it makes things easier should anything befall either of you but the hassle almost makes the whole thing undesirable - gods, especially because he already treats you as some smitten newlywed might. Adores you. Follows you around the manor, stalking; like some wolf cub after its mother. Carries you to bed each evening and ploughs you senseless, until spit gathers in the corners of your wet, wanting mouth and you can’t see straight through grey-blear eyes.

He likes the idea of you taking his name by law. Melds with your own like it were meant to be, from the starter threads of whatever cosmic tapestry pulled you together, the marriage of your first name to his last, interwoven by a scholar’s hand in gold-shining delicate point.  

Ancunín. The House of.

Tapestries. Large, spanning the halls. The Sarsantyr's over in Waterdeep - they’ll be able to create what you’re picturing. 

A familiar gaze meets yours. It’s then that you realise you aren’t alone in your mind once more

“If you want tapestries, you only have to ask.” 

“In fairness - you didn’t give me a chance to.”

He hums, tilting his head a little in the sun’s glare.

“I’ll send for them. The Sarsantyr's, yes? Have them pack up all their little-’

He pulls a face and lifts his hands in some kind of puzzled shake.

‘Sewing bits? Textiles? I’ll send carriages. They can come and stay in the lower rooms. Create the masterpiece you envision.” Astarion sniggers a little at the thought of putting them in the old dormitory while you remain lost in thought.

“Okay. Check them through first though, yes? 

The real event - the wedding - will give you total ecstasy beyond your wildest preconception, you know this. Unfettered and euphoric. Books and books on the topic stacked clumsily beside your bed, reds and greens; the turning of a vampire bride in leather bound prose. You know what to expect in florid detail. You know to trust your lover, that the rabid creature you’ll become is only a temporary mental state precursing an eternity alongside him. 

And yet, you wonder about the children. They’ll be here by then. However many he decides is enough, naturally; assumedly under the care of some hired help whilst you engage in your thoroughly bastardised pastiche of a wedding ceremony. You laugh now. He’s still in your head, mulling over your thoughts as soon as you can think them. 

Will you miss them? Will they be your last thought before you pass away; Astarion unable to complete this ritual alone as he was unable to before? Will your death lead to his, leaving your dhampir offspring to ravage Baldur’s Gate unsupported by the windfall of knowing parents? There’s still no hesitation, though. You will bear his young. You want to. The consequences either way are vast and long-lasting, and you’d rather be at his side than facing his ire- 

“Love, what are these thoughts? What on earth is going on in that very pretty head of yours today?” His voice is a low drawl, pitying yet laced with affection. He sits straight in his chair whilst a hand lazily searches for yours atop the sun-warmed table; beyond the scope of the ramparts wall the low meander of city life continues on.

“Mulling things over.”

“You don’t need to do that, pet. Come now.’ He beckons you onto his lap and wraps his arms around your middle, hand searching for the soft pillow of your chest as your ass backs up to his abdomen.

‘You want me to make it better?” 

You nod gently, the sun catching your eye in a particularly bright beam and making you squint. 

“Please.”

“Poor thing. It’s okay.” As he coos; one hand finds the curve of soft flesh at your chest, holding the weight of your breast firmly as he starts lightly thumbing at the nipple through your nightshirt.

“There, now. Good girl.” Your head falls back onto his shoulder, a deep sigh as he lulls you into a new state of calm astride him. Birds sing overhead whilst you nuzzle his neck.

“I will miss this warm flesh of yours, you know. Terribly so.’ His other hand moves to your nightskirt, gently hitching the material bit-by-bit up your thighs until you sit exposed to the air. Nobody can see you from here - the faceless crowd little but colourful dots below; Astarion giving a small tense laugh as he feels your pulse quicken against him. 

He toys with your skirt, edging ever nearer your exposed cunt; and your eyes flutter closed. 

‘But the greater purpose… I just can’t let it go. Us. Our lives together. I sincerely doubt you want to wither away to age; to lose your extraordinary beauty-’

A gentle groan as he feels your warmth.

‘Do you, my most precious flower?” 

“Of- Of course I don’t. I want to be with you, as we are; forever.”

“Then we’re going to need to make a concerted start on the only thing setting us back, are we not?” His fingers gently tap on the crux of your pubic bone, threateningly close to your clit. You feel the familiar seep of your slit leaking onto the bunched skirt fabric and you think of honey. Some kind of sweet glaze.

“Yes.”

As you sink further into him his fingers move down just a little to meet your clit; and in response to your delighted sighs he very lightly begins to stroke either side of the engorged flesh. There’s no urgency to his movement nor his demeanour; just a treacle-thick teasing grin as he turns his head to kiss your blazing cheek.

“Good.”

There’s something borderline celestial about the gentle way he touches you, coaxing more of your slick from you with every gentle jerk. He deftly motions ‘come hither’ with a soaking middle finger dipping lightly at your hole then brings your arousal up to wetten your clit once more.

“You want this, don’t you?” A finger slips down to your cunt, this time slipping and nestling deep inside as you feel yourself writhe on him. One arm scrambles around the back of his neck to support yourself while he begins to curl at your spongy spot, and the anchor of your arousal shifts free.

“I’ve been rifling through that glorious mind of yours these past few days and I see you now. You want comfort. To comfort. To seek shelter in those warm lights on the horizon, to know you aren’t alone in the late hours.”

You nod furiously, wincing, desperate to feel him deeper. Thicker. You need more, your fox-eyed paramour giving only the barest minimum he can do to watch you squirm.

“You, with my babe in arm;- oh the image alone does things to you, doesn’t it?”

It’s as if he’s creating the visions in your head as he speaks them, bringing them to the forefront of your mind in hushed coos and silent gasps. As if by magic, the only thing on your mind is a primal need for him to fuck you full. Nothing else, no mind for coffee nor completed manor renovations. 

You will be round. You will brim with life before he turns you, and you’ll take to his seed the minute he offers it to you. You’ll accommodate him like no other across Toril could hope to. You wonder if he has the power to decide how many, as he adds another finger to your unbridled torment. If he could choose to speed the process up with a celebration of twins, triplets. An heir and two spares. Maybe he’d wait instead until the first was born, just to ensure the viability of his bloodline. A test.

He’s doing this; you become starkly aware as he withdraws his fingers, spiderwebs of glistening drool clinging to your inner thigh as he brings them between his lips and suckles. He’s giving you these ideas of grandeur because he can. Because you are his. Because you wouldn’t want to belong to anyone else, to be tied to any other notion of whatever a fulfilling life is, if it weren’t one shared wholly by him. With him.

“Let me take you inside, sweet one. Let’s take care of you properly, shall we? Curb this fever, hm?”

Please, you think. Please take this burning hole in my womb and make it full with you. Extinguish the flame with your unholy spend and give me children. Give me oud and orchids and a life of warmth, however long we both may live.

“Use your words, my love. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this. Please.”

-

On the bed you now lie, the room cool and dark; balcony doors open wide with light-billowing curtains. Sweat consumes you as your thoughts run wild, the smell of your arousal, clammy hands and deep breaths in the low light. Astarion approaches like something from a dream, shirtless now; smirk plastered cheek-to-cheek as he leans over your trembling form with confidence - your lust-addled fingers reaching for his steady form like a ship to harbour. 

“You want to feel it, little dove? Feel how you set me alight?”

He pries your wrist from him with gentle urgency, taking your hand under his and skating both downwards; down the plane of his tight torso, slowing to a stop just above his pelvis.

“Tell me - do you want to feel it?”

A small smirk plays at the corner of your lips, but he doesn’t seem to notice - watching the way your hand twitches under his.

“Hm?”

His groan is guttural. Thick. He doesn’t even try to mask it, eyes wide as his hand shifts yours just a little further down and over the blistering burn of his heavy cock through loose linen trousers. A hazy sigh as he moans a small whimper at your touch.

“Please, Astarion. I beg you.”

It’s like his fingers are enchanted, the way they reduce you to this sodden mess. Unable to think unless guided delicately by his superior whim. 

“I need to bury myself inside you fully for this to take. I need your full attention, submission; your devotion to our lives together. Do I make myself clear?”

He’s giving you one final chance to withdraw. Your head clears for one sweet moment and you can do little else but stare at his bulge with heavy lids and your mouth agape.

“Crystal. I ache for you. Please, give this to me.”

You lift to meet him in a soft kiss, jaw slackened and cunt ablaze. Nothing else matters, no complications, nor possibilities of horribly mangled spawn from your womb as a result of your copulation. This scalding stupor that sends you insane won’t go away until he quenches it with his seed. 

Your response has satisfied him, if the way he stands sharpish and unties his trouser laces is anything to go by. The glassy head of his cock stands purple at his stomach, leaking wild at the slit and red-hot as your hand reaches blindly for him in your hunger.

He gently taps you away and back down onto the sheets. 

“Magic?” You hear yourself mumble, still amazed at how surely swollen he must feel with how sore he looks. Has to be. 

“Just me.”

There’s a tenderness in his eyes as he crawls back over you, legs instinctively parting and lifting at the knee to accommodate him. Something that compels him to hold your face in the hand that isn’t supporting his weight and just look at you, fondly; for what feels like an age.

Then he shifts once more to angle himself, decidedly spending no more time on preparation. The heat of his cock against your slit is unlike anything you’ve ever known, dizzying yet pleasurable; hard and yet still yielding, and as he thrusts a shallow dip into your core you swear you see angels overhead. Yes, you’re ready. You’ve never been more ready for anything than you are for the sheer ecstasy you know he’s about to give you, and he’s going to give you it in droves. Seismic tremors as he shifts a little and you adjust to him once again.

He nods. He hears you. 

Then, he snaps once more; and he’s lost.

Each glub of his cock meeting your spill as he ruts into you; the way you feel it running downward in long dribbles, with each and every mindless hump of his hips eking more honey from your cunt in spades. 

You hear the sounds of your shared carnal pleasure and it makes you clench around him in some kind of self-perpetuating cycle. Groans and whimpers and moans and hisses and the frequent egregious slaps to your thighs whilst he chases his high. 

He’s perfect like this. Halo of curls above you, voice silken as he calls you every pet name under the sun, his, always. Your legs ache already from being wound so tightly, interlocked around him, and you think of the prespill inside you already. How each fangy showman’s smile means he’s twitching at your cervix and leaking molten gold inside you with every thrust. 

It’s not until he nuzzles down to your neck that you remember to offer it, potentially for the last time on this mortal coil. 

“Are you asking?”

“Well, you didn’t offer.”

The immediate pang is one of violent nausea, subsiding quickly into a wooze coating the bottom of your stomach in black tar as he fucks upward. Unease. There’s something in his spit, you assume. Something that makes the gaping wounds a little more bearable, a little less raw as he kitten-licks the flesh between swallows. Ice courses your veins with adrenaline as it always does.

Astarion chokes down his first sip with an eager cough. The burgeoning panic wracking your limbs turns into a numbed haze as your lover feasts, big neat gulps whilst he clutches at your ribcage with fingers splayed deep and cock buried to the hilt, like a man starved. His hair tickles  at your jaw, the smell of something herbal. Slightly lemony. 

He splutters that he’s close and you feel yourself nearing your peak too.

There’s a profane desecration in what he’s doing, painting your walls in an attempt to get you pregnant. Something deeply sordid, raw; ungodsly. There’ll be no Lathandrian blessing for your young, no gentle welcome into some family fayre on the outskirts of the city. No villages to raise them, no cards nor flowers from friends or family; but you want this. 

You want him to taint you in his particular shade of crimson, visibly; so the realms know who made The Saviour of Baldur’s Gate come to heel. The man who compelled her through sheer love alone and to whom she gave everything. The indomitable force for whom you’ll die, only to resurrect forever as his.

Visions of your turning don’t scare you - all lightning and thunder, the cries of your dhamplings in some nursery down the towering halls of your palatial wing; and yet you’ll be safe in his caress. He wouldn’t let a single thing happen to you. He won’t. 

And as he cums; he calls your name.

Some rhythmic prayer over and over again; and with each kick of his cock he loses some of his bedroom charm and hurtles back to earth, humbly enraptured. More candid. His weary muscles tighten as yours threaten your own release around him.

“Cum for me, now. Milk me.” in a heavy whisper whilst he strokes the soft flesh of your cheek; and you do. You cum harder than you can remember ever before. Each wave of sheer pleasure some blackout tidal wave as you writhe, staccato in his arms. 

If you die during the ceremony, you’ll die happy. Should the younglings bite their way through your womb, it won’t matter.

You’re loved. He loves you, in soft kisses and gentle arms carried all the way to the waiting washtub. In the way he sponges your aching shoulders and brings a washcloth to your dazed face.

Baldur’s Gate doesn’t sleep, not really.

But tonight it will, in the patient, visceral bliss of calm before a summer storm.

[yearning-for-autumn]

Eris x gn reader pure fluff and comfort for an insecure reader sfw nothing explicit

Don't Worry Darling

Word Count: 1,016

Pairing: Eris x gn!Reader

Warnings: Feelings of low self-worth

Summary: After a bad day at work you fall into your usual pattern of questioning your worth. Eris makes sure you know how much he loves you.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I was feeling a bit rubbish after losing my first draft of this, but somehow it got finished!

You glanced at the clock, only fifteen minutes until you could escape home. Your co-worker seemed oblivious to your sullen mood and wittered on about her weekend plans whilst you counted the minutes until closing time. Usually, you loved working at the little bookshop. It was tucked away in the heart of the Autumn Court’s main city, and enjoyed by Fae from all walks of life. You were an avid reader, and generally didn’t mind talking to the customers.

Except today.

It had been a throwaway comment, something spewed in frustration and not really meant to be rude though not meant to be polite either. But it had stuck with you. They had come in early, asking for a particular book you thought you had; a beautiful leather bound tome with gilded edges. You had seen it this morning in the stock room, and you told the customer as such. But when you went looking for it, it was gone. You approached your manager, asking if you still had it.

“No, we sold that first thing today.” She said, and you groaned, “But we can always order another copy in.”

This is the message you relaid to the customer, an older High Fae Male with clothes that reeked of money, he rolled his eyes.

“Well you told me you had it out the back. Are you really so incompetent at your job that you don’t know what you have in stock? Don’t bother ordering it, I will be sure to let your manager know that you have lost my custom today.” With that he turned on his heel and strode out the door, leaving the doorbell jingling miserably in his wake.

This was the start of a terrible day for you. You lost your favourite coffee cup somewhere in the cavernous break room, stacked a whole box of new stock on the wrong shelf, and had to miss your lunch break due to a co-worker being off sick. By the end of it all you were totally drained.

Your co-worker was still chatting away when the doorbell rang and she gasped, but you were still running on autopilot.

“Sorry, we’re just closing up, please come again tomorrow.” You said without looking up.

“I’m sure you can make an exception for me, can’t you?” Came the smooth, self-assured voice of your mate. Eris Vanserra, High Lord of the Autumn Court.

You fought the urge to run into his arms and sob with sheer relief. Your co-worker tittered and you barely suppressed an eye-roll. It had been years since the two of you were mated, and he frequently visited you at work when he had the time. Then again, was it so surprising that people couldn’t believe you were together? Who were you compared to him? His smirk dropped when he saw your exhausted expression and he opened his arms for you.

You stepped forward and let him pull you in close.

“Rough day?” He asked, kissing the top of your head. You just nodded against his chest, breathing in his smoky scent. He held you a moment, letting you soak in his warmth, then released you and gathered your things. With a polite smile to your co-worker he winnowed you both home to the Forest House.

Once in your room, you slumped into your armchair. It was your favourite spot in the palace. Next to a large window, it overlooked the golden forests of Autumn that the room in an orange afternoon glow. Eris came to stand at your side, carding his fingers along your scalp.

“Tell me about today.” He said, his words gently demanding. You told him everything as he continued his massage down your neck and shoulders.

“I’ll make you a tea.” He said once you were finished, kissing the spot underneath your ear. You sighed as he left.

The mirror that angled towards the bed mocked you as you took in your tired form, draped in your chair in a way unbecoming of a High Lords mate. Incompetent. That’s what he had said. Incompetent at your job. You had it easy. What was bookselling to running a court? And you couldn’t even manage that. Even now, High Fae and Lesser Fae alike queued for even an audience with Eris at balls and parties, why would he ever have chosen you?

“But I did choose you.” Eris re-appeared in the doorway, tea in hand and expression pained. You realised your innermost thoughts had been pushed directly down the bond. Eris put the tea down and held out his hands, pulling you up from the chair and placing his hands protectively on the small of your back.

“And I will always choose you. You are capable, and smart, and brilliant.” He smiled, and kissed you softly, “You mean everything to me. Sometimes I wonder why the Mother gave me such a sweet mate when I have been so terrible.”

You frowned, and your arms pulled him tighter against you.

“You’re perfect.” You state and he pulls a face. You growl. “No. You are.”

A smirk graces his features and you realise, a bit belatedly, that you have been played at your own game. You huff and bury your face in his shoulder as he laughs at your dawning realisation.

“Tomorrow I’m taking the day off, and so are you. We’re going to spend the day together doing whatever you want.”

“I can’t I—” You start to protest but he silences you with a kiss. You roll your eyes.

“Come to bed, my love.” He says with a self-satisfied smile and you are helpless to stop it as he picks you up and deposits you onto the plush bedding. You wriggle into the soft sheets despite still being in your work clothes and it being well before night time. He shuffles in behind you and you melt into the warmth of his embrace. His breathing is even and rhythmic against your neck and your eyelids droop.

“I love you.” He murmurs against your neck, the last thing you hear before drifting off, dreaming of Eris.

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter! Part 4 here’s the link to part 3. Who’s ready for some drama? 😏

In between the two weeks between Italy and Singapore something is exposed causing social media to have a meltdown. Some how, poor Leni Horner is dragged into the crossfire…

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone

Kelly Piquet spotted with same mystery man back in May 2022 - affair EXPOSED almost a year on?!

Is it over for Max Verstappen and Kelly Piquet? - user: if Kelly has cheated on Max then she’s truly a piece of shit, poor Maxy:( - user: fuck Kelly Piquet always knew she was trash - user: Max can do better anyway and get away from that racist family Kelly Piquet was spotted snogging mystery man in a May 2022, but how are the pictures only just being revealed now? Nobody’s quite sure, but as of September 9th the pictures have gone viral alongside Kelly seen again with her new beau. Are you just as confused as we are? Kelly was seen only last week supporting world champion boyfriend, Max Verstappen at the Italian Grand Prix. We don’t know what’s going on, but what we can tell you is that Kelly is in big trouble, run for the hills Max! Verstappen and Piquet NO MORE! Max Verstappen takes down the TWO pictures he had posted with Kelly Piquet after cheating scandal goes viral. “Oh my god.” My hand covered my mouth in complete shock. My stomach sunk completely and a sickness took over me. “Poor Max.” My dad sighed. “Poor Max.” Geri agreed. “I never liked her anyway.” Blue, my step sister commented causing a small round of chuckles to make its way through the hotel room. I call it a hotel room but it was more like a fucking hotel floor, Geri and my dad stayed in here with Olivia and Monty whilst Bluebell and I had our own rooms not too far down the hall. Part of me was jealous for my 10 year old sister and 6 year old brother for getting to stay in a literal palace.

“He didn’t seem that into her anyway.” My dad shrugged as I borderline choked on my drink. True. “Still, Christian, that poor boy. And he’s got to race next weekend with this fresh on his mind.” Geri sighed sympathetically.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay. We’ll make sure he is.” My dad nodded. “Poor guy.” He added on as I continued scrolling further down Twitter. What I didn’t expect was to see a picture of myself on there. - user: the only girl that can release Max from granny’s claws...

It had thousands of likes and retweets, I cringed, exiting the app, despising that there was a small amount of amusement inside of me. “Too old for him anyway.” I began adding into the family bitch. I got completely carried away, now everybody was feeling the exact same mood towards Kelly, I could let out what previously was jealousy, now, mixed with disgust for her actions.

“Alright, alright girls she is still a human.” My dad warned Blue and I once we’d got a little carried away. We both snickered as I rolled my eyes playfully. “We’re only joking, dad.” I responded before pushing myself up, “I’m gonna go and get a smoothie, does anybody want one?”

When everybody but Olivia declined, I happily took her down to the hotel floor where there was the luxury of having a smoothie bar right on our doorstep. What I was really going down there to do was text Max. A sickness loomed over me when I scrolled over his contact, hovering over the buttons nervously.

“Hurry up!” Olivia begged as I slowly walked forwards into the lift again. “Sorry.” I muttered, typing out quickly.

Leni: I’m so sorry Max

I had no idea what to say, or what else to add onto that. I felt a little awkward and considering the last time we saw each other was so tense, I didn’t even know if he’d want to reply to me. Either way, I wanted him to know I was at least there for him.

The rest of the day I was a nervous wreck, my eyes were glued to my phone, fascinated by the scandal as though I didn’t know any of those people personally. Maybe me and Max should’ve just held hands, that felt all too insignificant and stupid in comparison to the details of Kelly’s affair that emerged online.

A few hours later, I received a text back…

Max: Hey, sorry I haven’t been on my phone today I sat up straighter in my bed seeing it was Max replying.

Max: I’m okay it’s just a shock finding out a year later, but you and I both know more than anybody that I’m gonna be fine after this Responding to that text was a little tricky, I read it a good ten times over, mixed emotions filling me.

Leni: I hope so, just take care of yourself Max Max: I will Leni

Sighing, I swiped back of the text app and returned to twitter, clicking on my notifications. My account was private, but I could still see I had been mentioned, without thinking I clicked on the notification.

Kelly Piquet and Max Verstappen call it quits, but has Max moved on already? Images from a beach in Monaco reveal Max was out for a late night swim, it seems, with Leni Horner, his team principles daughter. Talk about trouble in paradise!

user: smfh they were with a group of friends you absolute rats user: people will post anything for drama these days. user: even if it was just them two I’d be happy lmao is that bad? Leni is the gift that keeps on giving. user: is it just me or is Leni and the other girls not wearing any tops? user: taking pictures of half naked girls on the beach is creepy asf wtf user: if my bf was out skinny dipping with a bitch like Leni Horner I’d have an affair too lol user: good for him. user: Leni’s got her claws in, just like her dad, she gives off stuck up vibes > user : stfu pig ass looking girl, Leni hasn’t even done anything wrong they’re not even together user: they’re literally with a GROUP of friends, leave Leni alone i s2g

“Fuck sake.” I muttered to myself, stomach churning as I swiped off the threat and onto another one. I understood people’s opinions of me were always going to be mixed, especially on Twitter, but for the most part I kept private to avoid this. There was no real pictures of me with my breasts out, only my back turned to the camera which was extremely far away, but still, I felt sick that somebody was following us with a camera. What if there was pictures of us topless? If they were just waiting to release them? I’d be mortified. I laid in bed contemplating that night, I’d talked to a few of my friends who were also there that night, but the one person I wanted to text, I felt like I couldn’t.

[fanficshiddles]

A Deep Need, (10 Year Anniversary One Shot)

Summary: Alpha Loki finally finds an omega, even if not in the most conventional way... But while he wants to give her time to get to know him, she falls into heat. So needs him more than ever right now.

Warnings: Tis Omegaverse so there's knotting and sex before barely knowing one another. Not really dub con, cause she wants it. Though guess could be argued it's her in heat mind wanting it.

-

Loki would be lying if he said he was in a good mood today as he paced back and fore in his chambers, thinking things over once more before going…

Being one of few Alphas on Asgard wasn’t always easy. There weren’t many omegas here, so finding his own princess had proved difficult. Plus, with his past not exactly being squeaky clean didn’t help, as many people feared him.

Frigga had told him numerous times over the years about how they could arrange for an omega from Midgard to be taken to Asgard for him. He kept refusing, stating he would find his own soon enough. Though as time went on, he realised that wasn’t going to happen.

He’d heard word that in the dark market today there was going to be a small sale of omegas from Midgard. He wasn’t sure why they were here or how they’d been taken here… he dreaded to think, actually. Though he figured it might be his only chance to get his own omega.

‘I guess I have nothing to lose by going along for a look…’ He sighed to himself and ran a hand down his face.

Putting on his cloak, he made his way out of his chambers and out of the palace, heading down into the golden city of Asgard. It was bustling with Asgardians as usual, such a nice day always brought everyone out in droves. He wove his way through the crowds with ease, his horned helmet towered over everyone. Plenty of people moved out of his way, some gave curt nods of respect, others gasped in fear.

He’d never hurt them, they were just scared of what they’d heard from his past. How he tried to take over Midgard and failed, that he was a Jotun. He was glad that Odin had decided to give him one more chance, he was past all that now. Though there was a small part of him that rather enjoyed seeing the fear in some Asgardians eyes, making him smirk a little.

It didn’t take long for him to get to the underground market, the guard on the gates nodded at him and stepped aside, letting him through. He was a frequent visitor to the dark market, usually for potions and such. This time was very different, though.

As he made his way through the underground tunnel, looking at the various stalls, he came across the omegas and he was slightly repulsed at the conditions they were in. Stuffed into tiny cages, they could barely move. Wearing not much more than what could be called a glorified nightie, barely covering their bodies.

Whilst he had found humans to be beneath him for a period, even for him seeing them in this state made him feel bad for them. The smell of the omegas though did excite him, his Alpha instincts were kicking in already.

‘Ah, my Prince. Good to see you. We have some lovely omegas here, I’m sure any of them would be great for you.’ The stall vendor said as he motioned to them all.

Loki said nothing at first as he let his eyes trail over the girls, five of them in total, all looking just as scared as eachother. There was one girl that caught his eye more though, she was trembling and had her arms wrapped around her knees, she briefly glanced at him but didn’t keep eye contact for long. Something about her tugged at his heart strings.

‘Where did you get them from? Are they here of their own free will?’ Loki asked, though he knew the answer already.

‘Midgard. No, my Prince. They’re of no use on Midgard though, no more Alphas left. Nobody wanted them.’ The vendor shrugged, as if they were just items.

‘Why not just leave them be? Let them live their lives there?’ Loki raised an eyebrow at him.

‘I was sold them, my Prince.’ He stammered out quickly. ‘Was told when they come into heat that they’d suffer greatly anyway without an Alpha to calm them.’

‘I thought Midgard was advanced enough to have medication to suppress heats?’ Loki asked knowingly.

‘I… I don’t know, my Prince. This is just what I was told.’ He laughed nervously.

Loki sighed and looked back at the one omega in particular. Her skin was dirty, her hair too, it was pretty messy, probably not even been brushed in God knows how long. She was rather skinny too, could do with some good meals.

‘I’ll take that one.’ Loki pointed at the one he wanted, her eyes widened in a mixture of fear and confusion. ‘How much?’ Loki asked as he took out his pouch of gold from his pocket.

‘I am selling them for eight, but for you, my Prince… Five coins.’ The vendor said generously.

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. He took out a handful of coins, well over ten of them and handed them to the man. ‘Use the extra to buy the rest of the girl’s proper food and clothes.’ He said firmly.

The man’s eyes widened when he saw how much Loki was paying him. ‘Yes, my Prince. Of course.’ He bowed at him, then stuffed the coins away into his pocket.

He rushed over to open the cage of Loki’s new omega, he put a length of rope around the girl’s neck and tugged on it to get her out of the cage. He then dragged the omega over to Loki and handed him the end of the rope.

Loki glared at the rope then at the man. ‘That will not be necessary.’ He growled at him.

‘What if she tries to run off, my Prince?’ The man asked, confused.

‘She won’t.’ Loki said confidently.

The girl looked shocked, and still very confused, as she continued to tremble on front of Loki.

‘As you wish.’ The man removed the rope from the girl’s neck, she reached up and rubbed at her neck, glad the harsh rope was gone.

Loki reached his hand up towards her face, making her flinch and close her eyes. Though as he gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, her eyes flew open in surprise.

‘What’s your name?’ He asked softly.

‘You can call her whatever you like, my Prince.’ The vendor butted in.

Loki raised his hand and glared at him. ‘Let her speak.’ He barked at him.

She opened her mouth and it took a little while before her voice worked again, as she hadn’t spoken in so long.

‘Sofia.’

Loki put his hand out towards her. ‘Come, Sofia. Let’s get you back to the palace to clean you up. Get you some food. Is that ok?’

Sofia’s eyes watered, she was scared of course but she was beginning to think she needn’t be of this man. Unless he was tricking her, which of course could be a possibility, she had no idea who he was. Though she saw kindness in his eyes, so she took his large hand and let him lead her out of the market to the palace.

When Loki got her back to his chambers, he ran a bath for her and had his maid fetch them both a meal.

‘Why don’t you go and get cleaned up, food should be here once you are finished.’ Loki offered as he handed her a towel. ‘I’ll look out some clothes for you.’

‘Thank… you…’ She said quietly, taking the towel from him.

Sofia went into the bathroom, she was so relieved to finally get clean. She was horrified to find that she used almost a whole bottle of shampoo just continuously washing her hair to get all the dirt and tangles out.

A soft knock on the door startled her, she had just closed her eyes for a moment to enjoy the warm water.

Loki poked his head in, her body was covered by the bubbles. He entered and placed a night dress with underwear on the chair in the corner of the bathroom.

‘I hope they fit ok. I guessed your sizes.’ He said a little sheepishly. ‘Please join me once you’re ready, food will be here soon.’

Sofia said nothing, just nodded a bit. She wanted to relax for longer in the bath, but her stomach growled at her, telling her to get out. The last time she ate was yesterday morning and it had only been half a slice of bread.

Once she got out of the bath, dried herself off and got dressed, she went through into Loki’s chambers to join him. Food had just arrived, making her stomach growl even more. Her mouth watered when she saw the plate of food. Lovely looking meats, potatoes and vegetables.

‘Please, take a seat.’ Loki motioned to the seat opposite his.

She tentatively sat down and watched Loki begin to tuck into his food at first. Then she slowly, carefully, picked up her cutlery and started eating. Though as soon as the first bite of food hit her tongue, she started eating faster, couldn’t get it down quick enough.

‘I give you my word, you don’t need to worry about food again.’ Loki said as he watched her eat, as if it would be taken away from her soon.

She did slow down a little bit, and seemed to enjoy the food more. Though she was still finished before Loki was, her plate was completely cleared.

‘I don’t want you to fear me. I know you’re not here of your own will… I am an Alpha, which I’m sure you know already. However, if after a few days you don’t want to stay here with me, I can get you back home to Midgard if that’s what you wish. I won’t keep you here against your will.’

Sofia’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

Loki nodded in response.

‘Thank you…’ She said quietly and looked down at the table.

Loki had a million questions he wanted to ask her, but he knew she would be tired. Perhaps he’d get more out of her tomorrow after she’d rested.

‘You can take my bed tonight, I’ll sleep by the fire on the sofa.’ Loki pointed to the large Queen size bed.

She muttered out a quiet thank you again, then shyly made her way over to said bed to get comfortable for the night. As soon as she crawled onto the bed and under the duvet, she passed out within seconds. A full belly and rest in a warm place, was all she needed.

Loki sat by the fire for a few hours, just gazing over at the sleeping omega. She barely stirred at first, just breathing deeply as she got some proper rest. Though as the night went on, he noticed she started shuffling around, restless. Then he could smell something in the air...

‘Oh no…’ He gasped, his cock instantly began getting hard at the smell. ‘Fuck.’ He growled.

She began whimpering quietly from the bed, sweat beaded on her forehead. She thrashed around a bit more, until she woke up fully, panting and gasping. She looked across the room at Loki, who had stood up abruptly.

‘I need to leave… while I can still control myself.’ Loki said, his voice strained.

But she let out a whimper of pain as she clutched at her stomach. He rushed over to her side instantly, his Alpha instincts kicking into overdrive.

‘It… hurts.’ She whined, looking at him longingly.

Loki reached out and cupped her cheek, her skin was on fire, though she felt some relief at his touch. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.

‘Do you… want me to help you?’ Loki asked, trying to control himself.

She opened her eyes and looked at him with doe eyes, then nodded. ‘Please.’

Loki didn’t need to be asked twice. He tossed the duvet out of the way and climbed onto the bed over the top of her. She gasped as his hands slid underneath her dress against her sides, it was as if his touch was cooling her body down instantly, feeling so good.

He leaned down and let her feel his weight on her, which helped a lot too. When his mouth crashed down on hers, he was glad that she reciprocated his kiss. Their tongues moved together slowly at first, testing the waters, but it soon got deeper and more intense as their instincts kicked in.

Sofia bucked her hips up and began trying to rub against him. Loki slid his hand down and cupped her through her knickers, he could feel her heat radiating against his hand, even through the cotton. He began panting with need as he rubbed her eagerly.

‘Let me be your Alpha… Let me claim you, like we both need.’ He growled urgently and started nipping at her neck, making her whimper so beautifully.

‘Please… Alpha.’ She cried out.

Loki was almost exploding within his trousers. He used his seidr and had all of their clothing disappear, momentarily startling her.

‘Shhh, it’s ok, darling. I have magic, nothing to fear. I promise, I’ll look after you.’ He whispered softly and kissed along her shoulder, leaving a wet trail that made her shiver in delight.

Loki’s long fingers teased through her soaking wet folds, she was so wet and well prepared for him. The heat had hit her so quickly and hard, she didn’t care in that moment if he chucked her out after, she just needed him inside of her right now.

Her omega instincts kicked in too, she tried to squirm around, Loki sat up and removed his hand from between her thighs, to see what she was needing to do. His eyes widened and he growled ferally when she rolled over onto her stomach, then pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, displaying for him.

‘Please!’ She whined.

Loki’s eyes darkened as he gripped her hips and moved in behind her, he slid his cock up and down through her folds at first, but even he couldn’t handle any teasing right now, as much as he enjoyed teasing and foreplay normally. His cock was already streaming with pre cum, rubbing all over her cunt.

He pressed the tip of his cock into her, they both moaned loudly together, more so when he forced himself deeper into her, so deep until he was fully sheathed within her. Her body took him so well, her heat made her super relaxed and ready for what it needed.

Loki’s grip on her sides tightened as he dug his fingers into her and started thrusting fast and hard, knocking the wind out of her. He let out plenty of groans and grunts, then folded himself over her and wrapped an arm around her middle to keep in her place as he rutted into her.

Sofia couldn’t stop crying out in pleasure, like he was dousing out the fire within her. He felt so good, like nothing she’d experienced before. She had been scared at first, her heat happening. It was her first one, too. Though she felt a strange connection with Loki, like she knew deep down that he would look after her and help her through it, that he’d protect her.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.

‘Sofia… My omega…’ He growled and bit down on her shoulder as he thrust as deep as he possibly could into her, stilling as his knot began to swell inside of her, locking them together as he spurted his cum deep into her, completely putting out the fiery need within her for now.

She came hard all over his cock, feeling him stuff her so full, tears streamed down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it.

Loki collapsed to the side, pulling her with him. They would be locked together for a while, no doubt going at it again and again for the foreseeable until her heat had passed.

Their breathing was heavy for a bit, until they calmed down a little. Loki nuzzled into her hair and tightened his arms around her, keeping her super close.

‘I had hoped to get to know you more before this happening… For you to decide yourself if you wanted to stay or not.’ He rumbled into her hair.

‘I… I want to stay.’ She said blissfully.

Loki chuckled softly and kissed the top of her head.

He only hoped she wasn’t just saying that because she was in heat… Though he’d deal with that issue after, if she changed her mind.

Right now, his new omega needed him. And he needed her.

[mins-fins]

missa solemnis

&&. it's not everyday that you waltz with the prince that wants to rip out your tongue, but life is just full of surprises.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: fairly random really, royalty au, enemies(?) to lovers

warnings: explicit language, reader and hyuck threaten each other the whole time, reader and hyuck both suck so bad but they both want each other so bad

word count: 1k

notes: this whole thing is just one scene from a bigger thing i wrote during the christmas break that i scrapped because i didn't think people would read it.. also because i'm not very good when it comes to writing people as enemies, also it was HORRIBLE i almost throw up every time i even glance at that mess 😞 anyway to celebrate nct dream reincarnation royal au i decided to just take this chunk and edit it so now at least it makes a little more sense 😭?? not my best writing truly but prince hyuck has not left my mind, i need to start writing more royal aus

"if i didn't know better, i'd think you wanted to kiss me right now".

there's a taunting tone in your voice that makes donghyuck glare, but he still doesn't get distracted, keeping up the same momentum he's had since you two began dancing no more than a few minutes ago.

there's a few good reasons you assumed he wanted to kiss you, mainly the direct contact he was making with your lips, he looked like he was about to move forward and connect his lips with yours with absolutely no shame, no regard for his reputation, his soon-to-be-wife, or his supposed "hatred" of you.

"you are an absolute moron".

"aren't i correct?"

donghyuck's poker face doesn't falter, no matter how much you tried to get a smile out of him with idiotic comments or jokes. "nope, wrong as always".

you hum at the princes response, somehow able to stay focused on waltzing as the two of you made your way around in a circle. donghyuck will never understand your way of easily multitasking, how you were somehow able to focus on annoying the absolute shit out of him as well as focus on not stepping on his foot at all.

he has to give it to you (begrudgingly though), it's impressive.

"so what is it then, your highness? you were just staring at my lips because you were bored? lost in your head?"

donghyuck's grip on your hand tightens at the sound of you using his title in such a mocking manner, oh he hates you, he hates you so much that if he had to choose, he'd rather kill you himself then have someone else do it.

you piss him off so much, your words piss him off so much, he wants to punch you, he wants to set you on fire and watch you burn, he wants to so badly stomp you into the ground and watch you suffer—

but holy shit you are absolutely gorgeous.

donghyuck can't even deny it, even with how much denial courses through his veins about topics such as this, anyone with two functioning eyes could see that you are just such a work of art. donghyuck can't even blame all the women that flock to the gates of your palace, hoping to score just one date with you.

"i was too busy thinking about the several torture methods that i could put you through".

"ah i am so hurt, you don't love me sweetheart?"

donghyuck has to use every single bit of patience remaining in his body to not step on your foot and leave you in pain on the dance floor.

the only reason he was dancing with you in the first place was because of a promise he made to his mother, his fiancée was off doing something else, gossiping with the servants, he assumes, she did always enjoy that, a favorite activity of hers that he's learned about from observing.

a dance like this should truly only be preserved for lovers, people who can stand each other, a pair who, with all things considered, won't bicker whilst they were supposed to be focusing on the music.

you two, with all things considered, are an example of everything opposite of that, you can't stand each other, you bicker all the time, and you are truly the furthest thing from lovers.

"call me that again and next time your head won't be attached to your body".

"i like to think you threaten me because you love me".

donghyuck snorts, finally, and you felt a surge of pride in your chest, you'd gotten a smile out of him. "your mind must be the messiest place ever.." he resorts to muttering, not knowing what other specific threats he could tell you. "an idiotic one too, do you ever think clearly? logically?"

you hum, displaying a lack of offense at the words. instead, you just lean closer, the distance between you two minimizing. "i only think about you, sweetheart".

a scoff leaves the prince's lips, he's absolutely done with you, but there's still a good minute left to the song, meaning there's still a good minute of you two waltzing in this ballroom left.

"i just cannot wait for this to be over.."

"you don't say!"

your enthusiasm pisses off donghyuck, but he doesn't step on your foot like he wanted, instead pulling you forward harshly, causing for a yelp of surprise to escape your lips. his arm remains around your waist, ensuring that you won't fall, but you two do bump foreheads.

"jesus! are you crazy!?"

there is absolutely no reason for you two to be pressed this close, your fingers still very much intertwined, just one trip up and your lips would touch.

you wonder in your head if donghyuck is slowly regretting his brash decision.

"what? you don't know how to waltz anymore?"

you always find a way to jab at him, comment on something he did, joke about a little things that you knew got under his skin.

oh lee donghyuck absolutely despises you.

that doesn't explain why he still clearly wants to kiss you, though.

"you're just—" he pauses in the middle of his sentence, suddenly very interested in your facial features, features that he could now clearly see up close. "a moron, an idiot".

"as you've said before".

donghyuck doesn't respond anymore after that, the song isn't even done, a good 25 seconds left before it's ending, but donghyuck was clearly done, as he pushed you away, taking in a breath.

"that's enough of you, have a good night your highness".

the words leave his tongue bitterly, his glare is less of a genuine one and more full of mixed emotions, but he doesn't give you any more time to stare at him, just turns around and walks in the direction of his fiancée.

you watch him walk away, and he doesn't make an effort to even save you one final glance.

the song isn't even over yet.

but he's done, very done.

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, threats, violence, inc3st, threats, injury.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Whelp. Here we are. If you need me, I will be in my mind palace.

Chapter 14: Devour

You walked with Jace around the Red Keep for the remainder of your evening, stopping to sit by the Godswood with him, reminiscing on your childhood together there.

The night grew long as you sat and spun stories together. Eventually your brother became tired, vowing to walk you to your chambers before he retired to his own.

As you walked together you held onto his arm, lightly stroking it with your fingertips, hoping to soothe his anxiety. Jacaerys was sometimes very high strung, you supposed it was to do with him being the eldest boy.

Once outside your chambers, he offered to inspect the room for you, to which you laughed.

“You are too much Jace. Anyone would think you are beginning to go mad.”

“I am not mad.” He responded defiantly.

“I know this.” You smiled, holding his hand and swinging it, “Go to bed, I can see your eyes beginning to close.”

“They are not.” He argued, stilling your hands.

“Dont be stubborn. I can handle myself from any ghosts or ghouls that may be lurking in the shadows.” You joked, smiling brightly at him hoping to ease the tension.

Scoffing, he squeezed your hand and thankfully bid you a goodnight. You watched as he walked down the corridor towards his own chambers, grinning as you did.

You were truly blessed to have the brothers that you do. You do not know how Helaena survives with hers. You would sooner be led to madness if you had to deal with your two uncles as often as she did.

The Knight at your chambers opened the large heavy doors wordlessly and let you through. The room was lit by candles and your nightgown was placed delicately on the end of your bed. The girls must have retired for the evening or been dismissed by your mother.

Walking towards your bed you began to unlace the back of your dress, finding it a little difficult given the angle. With each tug of the laces, the more your dress gave, allowing you to slump your posture. Even after your large rest in the library, you still felt fatigued. 

Shimmying the dress down your body, you let the heavy material pool at your feet, toeing the small slippers off along with it. You stretched your toes out, happy to have them out of their confines. The bottoms of your feet are feeling better with each day, though the scars would serve as a reminder of that evening. 

Reaching up to your shoulders, you began to remove your underdress to put on your nightgown. As one shoulder was pulled down you heard a deep hum from behind you.

Clasping onto the front of your dress you spun, heart pounding in your chest. 

The silver head of your uncle was sitting comfortably at one of the high backed chairs in front of your fireplace, a large goblet of wine clutched in his hand.

You tried to steady your breathing, voice caught in your throat. The roar of blood in your ears. You froze, not knowing how to react, your mind running wildly as you stared at the One-Eyed Prince.

“Dont let me interrupt you.” He drawled, head turned away to stare at the fire whilst he swirled his wine. Looking all the more bored, and as if he had been invited as a guest that was forgotten.

“Get out.” You squeaked, struggling to calm your breathing.

Aemond did not respond, his sharp eye still staring into the fire as though in thought. You twisted the front of the dress up in your hands, holding onto it for dear life. 

“You didn’t tell them.” He mused, taking a small sip of the wine.

“W-what?” You asked confused.

“You didn’t tell them.”

“I-“ You paused, “No.” 

Your breathing began to steady, though your heart raced in your chest. Your knuckles were white with the grip of your under dress, a cold chill settling over your skin.

It was indecent of him to be here. To even witness you like this, though if he cared for chivalry, he kept his one eye on the flames facing away from you, not one looking at your exposed form. 

“Hm.”

You walked to your closet, snatching a black woollen cloak, throwing it hastily over your shoulders, as you stood far away by the bed, hoping to put distance between you and your uncle.

“I’m not going to take your eye if that is what you are worried about, niece.” He stated, lightly sipping his wine again, eye still fixated on the fireplace that danced in front of him.

You clutched tightly at the soft wool of the cloak against your almost bare skin. Fear working its way up your throat. You stood still, unsure of what to do or say.

Suddenly the second son turned from your chair, his long blonde hair shifted over his shoulder as he looked at you, eye grazing you up and down. You held the cloak tighter to you.

“Did you not hear me?” You repeated, taking a small step forward, “Get. Out.” You hissed. Fire began to work its way through you, the initial shock wearing off.

His signature smirk worked its way onto his face.

“Now why would I do that? I quite enjoy your company. Far better than my nephews.” He mocked.

His presence put you on edge, eyes darting about the room in search of something to protect yourself with.

“Come sit, zaldrītsos.” (little dragon) He drawled, looking back to the fireplace.

As you clutched the cloak tighter to your body, you felt a sharp pinch on your finger. Looking down you saw that your fist had enclosed around your cloak's clasp, the signet of the Targaryen House, dug sharply into your palm, its pin into your finger.

Slowly you moved towards him, taking wary steps as you willed your hands to not shake. No man had seen you in such a state of undress, and to have your deranged uncle luring you closer to him? You must be mad.

With every step you took, you inhaled deep steady breaths, begging he not hear your heart thumping behind your ribcage.

As you neared the fire you felt your palms begin to sweat, your nerves fraying at the proximity. He held his hand out to the chair beside him, eye watching you closely, the sapphire orb shining in fires light.

When you did not move he sharply stood, the movement making you flinch, taking an uneasy step backwards.

“Sit.” He insisted, slowly moving to your side table to pour you a goblet of wine.

You stiffly sat down on the cushion, grasping the cloak around your shoulders closer to your body, hiding your exposed skin from him as you felt the pin begin to break the skin of your finger.

As he walked back over to you, he held out the goblet of wine for you. You looked at him in confusion, as he continued to hold it out, waiting for you to take it. 

“It is not poisoned, if that is what has you so concerned. I am no Kinslayer.” He mused.

Gently, you reached out with one hand, the other holding the cloak together at your chest. Fingetips grazed the goblet before your uncle sharply snatched it back away from you, smirking.

“No glass this time.” He hummed. Anger and shame bubbled inside of you as you snatched the goblet away from him, pulling it close to your chest.

Aemond picked up his drink and slunk down in his chair, resuming his position, moving as though he was a snake, slow and smooth.

“Are you frightened, dear niece?” Smirk pulling up his face.

“No.” You breathed, head held strong as you looked him in his eye. 

His hand came to gently caress the arm of the chair, long fingers rubbing back and forth on the dark wood as he stared at you.

“You look frightened.” He said lowly.

“Why are you here?” You demanded, hand grasping at the pin harder.

“Do I need a reason to spend time with my niece?” He mused, not getting a reaction out of you. You stayed silent, not drinking from the goblet, watching your uncle intently. 

Sensing your unease the One-Eyed Prince leant forward, “Because I wish to devour you.” His smirk crawled higher and higher up his face with glee. A shiver ran down your spine.

“You disgust me.” You spat, standing sharply, almost tripping on the long cloak as you did so.

He huffed out a chuckle, “Really?” He spoke with mirth.

“You play these games with me uncle, but you do not follow through.” You hissed, leaning forward.

The older Prince stood slowly, matching your stance, his lithe form towering over you. 

He hummed, taking a step towards you, long legs moving slowly and surely like a viper coiling before it strikes.

“Get. OUT.”  You yelled, making him laugh loudly, throwing his head back in entertainment. You walked backwards, hand reaching the wall of the fireplace behind you.

Trapped.

“Sȳndor seemed pleased to see you.” 

“What?” You choked out.

“Your great beast, he seemed pleased when you went down to visit. Your singing truly is beautiful.” He replied, a soft appreciation on his features.

“You’re sick.” You spat.

Silence.

Adrenaline began to course through you, your blood beginning to boil as your rage built. How dare he.

“You play these games as a means to confuse me, but I have no confusion as to what you are.” You sneered, eyes searching his.

“And what am I, my dear little dragon?” He purred, standing in front of you, looking down his long sharp nose at you. Every breath he took, his chest brushed against yours.

“You’re weak.” You seethed.

Aemond hummed in thought, looking away in contemplation.

“Maybe I will take your eye.” He crooned.

Your hand flew up to his face, the point of the pin from your cloak pressing into the skin below his lone eye. His impenetrable mask of composure slipping momentarily. A small crooked smile rose on his face as he waited for you to act. 

Your uncle leant forward, pushing the pin into his skin.

“Do it, zaldrītsos.” (little dragon) He stared you down. Your breath shallow and sharp, hand shaking.

“Do it.” He growled, snatching your wrist with a bruising force pushing the pin further into the skin under his eye. Smile gone from his face, as he watched you. 

His grip on your wrist was bruising. Looking at the pin and your uncle's face you found your anger drain away from you. You did not want to do it.

You could not do it.

When you looked at him, all you see was the scared little boy that had his eye taken from him. All you could see was the Aemond that you used to play with.

Coward a voice whispered in the back of your mind.

He harshly squeezed your wrist, causing you to gasp and drop the pin on the floor. With his hold, he yanked you forward into him, breath fanning along your face and neck. The cloak having slipped down your shoulders. His eye searched your face as he scowled.

“It is you, who is weak.” He whispered.

A fire was lit. Swirling your tongue in your mouth you spat on his face, his eye closing momentarily before opening, death grip still on your wrist. 

A slow smile curled on his lips, “Hmm.”

Other hand shooting out to grab your throat, he jerked you roughly backwards, your head hitting against the stone wall behind. The room spun, and you felt stars begin to form in front of your eyes, a deep throbbing pulsing in your skull.

You reached up to claw at his hand around your throat, dark cloak falling to the ground below, breath wheezing in your lungs. Fear washed over you and you felt your mouth turn dry.

He leant slowly into your space eyeing you. 

“You really should be careful, zaldrītsos. Perhaps I am the monster you say I am.” He whispered, his warm breath puffing across your lips. A stray strand of hair coming loose from behind his ear to tickled the front of your face.

He looked feral.

“Get out.” You wheezed, looking into his eye.

“Please?”  He mocked, head tilting to the side as he did. His plump lips pulled forward into a pout.

His hand on your throat loosened slightly, allowing you to gulp in a breath of air. Suddenly the Prince moved whilst he looked down at you, pushing a knee between your legs causing you let out a small yelp. His eye grazed down your shivering body. 

The cloak that had given you a false sense of protecting now surrounded your feet in a heap, the thin underdress you wore slipping down from your shoulders.

“My, you have grown.” He purred.

“Please, uncle.” You gasped.

Aemond hummed, releasing your wrist only to tighten his grip on your throat once more. Both of your hands gripping onto his large one, wrapped around your throat.

“Did you truly think you would take my other eye?”  He taunted, teeth sharp in his mouth.

You closed your eyes, ice cold dread seeping into your heart. You thought this was how you would die. Half dressed in your chambers, uncle's hand wrapped around your neck. 

Weak echoed in your head.

His free hand tickled your exposed collarbone, fingertips dancing above your skin as you squeezed your together, a painful throbbing behind them.

Perhaps he would slit your throat with the sword on his side, or maybe the dagger he carried with him at all times. His long fingers brushed against your underdress where it had slipped down your shoulders, his finger coming to caress the skin underneath.

Your whole body tensed, goosebumps erupting along your skin. 

You could feel his gaze on you, eye greedily devouring you. Slowly you opened your eyes to look at him. His eye was half lidded, a lazy smirk sat upon his face, pink blush dusted on his cheeks.

You wheezed in a breath, head feeling light and body heavy. He kept his eye on you as he trailed his finger further down your collarbone, moving the loose shift with it.

He continued to observe you, humming as he pushed his knee harder against the crux of your thighs. You squeaked, clawing at his hand trying to fill your lungs. The pressure against your centre causing your stomach to tense.

He leant closer to your face, “Tell me niece, are you truly still a maiden?” He whispered, twisted joy in his voice.

Running his hand further into your shift, his fingertips grazed the top of your breasts, nipples hardening from the stimulation. He looked down to where the stiff peaks pushed against the thin underdress.

Your uncle hummed, eye flicking back to yours as you quickly shut them once more. 

His fingers hooked onto the tie at the front of your shift, pulling the knot free, making the front of the underdress sag. You wriggled in his grasp trying to free yourself as he gripped your throat harder. No air passed through to your lungs.

You felt yourself become dizzier, black spots forming in front of your eyes and you felt yourself begin to pass out, only to have his hand loosen and your body automatically gulp in air.

He huffed a little laugh as you breathed deeply, room spinning from lack of oxygen and the blow to the back of your head. With a simple tug, the dress pooled below your breasts, a deep hum of appreciation coming from your uncle as he gazed down.

You looked away at the wall and focused on breathing what little air he allowed. You prayed to the Seven and the old Gods, begging this to end. Begging that they strike him down.

Aemond's hand trailed along the shift, hand tickling over your nipples and the softness of your breast. Fingers trailed underneath your breasts gently and almost teasingly. Your stomach clenching at the feeling.

His hand then drifted lower on your front until it danced along the bunched material on your stomach. Fingers grazing the front of your inner thighs softly making you clench your thighs, squirming in his grip. He looked up at you as his hand continued to caress your thigh. Your cheeks began to grow hot, a blush spreading over your face.

“Have you ever touched yourself, Princess?” He pondered, shifting his knee further into your cunt, drawing a breathy moan from you. 

Your heart was skipping in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch. Your stomach tied up in knots as you began to feel nauseous, his fingers tickling further towards your centre. A warm heat settled in your core, a familiar desire beginning to grow inside you.

He hummed slowly in your ear as he dragged the shift further down your body, moving his knee to let it pool at your feet. Tears sprung to your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks. You sniffed and turned your head away further, choosing to stare out the window.

“Now she is quiet.” He mused, “I told you there was a dragon to be tamed.” Aemond smirked, hand coming to dance along your inner thighs once more, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

His long fingers gently grazed the soft hair on your mound, dipping a single finger to your bundle of nerves. Your stomach tensed as you tried to wriggle away, a familiar feeling settling in your stomach. He squeezed your throat tighter, looking up at you before relaxing his grip and continuing. A warning.

His long finger swirled around your bud, making you writhe in his grip. Finger slowly travelling further down to your entrance. 

Humming Aemond looked back up at you, “You’re so wet for me, sweet niece.” He purred, slowly dipping his finger into your wetness then dragging it back up to your clit.

Your body reacting on its own.

The Prince continued to gently rub you, pulling weak whispers and sighs from you, a coil slowly beginning to tighten within. You bit at your tongue sharply, the tears still falling down your cheeks.

This was wrong, he was cruel and unkind, and yet it still felt good. Yur body reacting on its own, chasing the pleasure he brought you. Shame surrounded you, as he continued to swirl his finger gently, dipping it between your folds to gather your wetness and bring it back up once more. 

A long finger dipped down to your soaking entrance and suddenly pushed inside of your heat, your hips bucking up against him in surprise. You hissed silently as your uncle's finger went deeper than yours ever could, pulling a throaty moan from you as he did. 

Slowly he pulled his finger back out, “Look at me.” He urged you, your eyes clenched shut.

“I said. Look. At. Me.” He growled and you obeyed, slowly turning your face to look at your older uncle, a crazed expression in his eye. 

He lifted his finger to his lips and drew it into his mouth, sucking on it lewdly. His one good eye closed as he moaned, the sound causing your core to clench around nothing. His grip on your throat loosened further and you sucked in another gasp of air. 

“Mmm,” He moaned, “I think I will devour you after all.” 

Aemond roughly pushed his hand back into your heat curling his finger, a long groan falling from your lips. His hands were much larger than yours, and his finger stretched you uncomfortably.

You tried to steady your limited breathing, and think of anything but the coil slowly tightening inside of you. Your body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and you felt yourself getting closer to climax.

His finger suddenly rubbed up against a soft spongy spot inside you, making you gasp, his eye sharply gazing to you before chuckling.

The Prince pulled his hand away, swirling once around your entrance before forcing a second finger in with his first roughly, the movement jarring you.

You whined pathetically, trying to move away from his hand, having never felt this full in your life, a stinging pain rippling through your core.

He slowly withdrew his fingers, the stretch burning at you as you tried to draw back. Tutting, he tightened the grip on your neck and thrusting his two fingers sharply back inside you, drawing a soundless yelp from you. 

Moving his fingers in and out rapidly he curled them inside, stroking the soft spongy part of your core, drawing tiny mewls from you. The room was filled with the sounds of your wet heat as he fucked you savagely with his hand.

The coil wound tighter and tighter, stomach clenching at the rough pleasure he brought you.

"St-" The words were lost in your throat as Aemond brought his thumb to press at your bundle of nerves, whilst he rapidly moved his fingers deeper within you.

You watched as his fingers disappeared inside, your slick glistening on his hand with each sharp movement, as it leaked down your thighs.

The Prince let out a breathy moan as he watched his hand disappear inside of you. He loosened his grip on your neck, feeling your core begin to tighten around his two fingers. He held your gaze as he leant forward looking down at your lips. 

You felt yourself in a haze, mind becoming fogged, the pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt before and soon you began to chase it.

He reached further than you ever had and moved with a skill you didn’t. You felt yourself slowly begin to come undone, hips bucking to meet his movements.

“Ah!”  You gasped, not looking away from his eye and the sapphire orb.

“Thats it, sȳz riña.” (good girl) He praised, lips brushing yours as he spoke, your core clenching at his voice. 

Your uncle swirled his thumb around your clit faster, guiding you to finish, forcing pleasure from your body as you succumbed to his invasion.

You felt the coil inside you snap, a blinding pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“Konir sagon ziry, māzigon syt nyke.” (That's it, come for me.) He murmured, hand not slowing down. You gasped trying to suck in air, lips brushing his as you did.

He caught your mouth with his in a bruising kiss as he slowly began to slow his hand. Your eyes slowly slid shut, his lips soft against yours. Your lips moved with his as you kissed him back, mind hazy from the pleasure.

The grip on your throat loosened completely, and your mouth opened to draw in a deep breath, sighing into his mouth. He leant his forehead against yours as you came down, breathing heavily, trying to suck oxygen back into your brain.

His hand slowly stilled inside you.

Your head spun from lack of air and intense release. The back of your skull beginning to throb once more from the impact. You felt your heart rattling inside your chest, core spasming around his fingers. 

Your heart suddenly felt cold.

You watched as your uncle gently slid his fingers from within you, a slight sting as he did so causing you to grimace. As he watched you, his hand came up to his lips once more, tongue darting out to lick at his slender digits before he pushed them into your mouth. Your musky tang hit your tongue, as you closed your lips around them.

With a hum, Prince Aemond let go of your neck and turned to leave, pulling his glistening fingers from your mouth.

The silver haired Prince spun on his foot, hair gently flowing behind him as he exited, the door softly shutting behind him. Your mouth gaped as you stared where he exited.

Shame crawled through your veins and you felt yourself sag. Clasping at your bare chest as you let out a strangled sob. What have you done.

The first man to ever touch you was your deranged uncle who tormented you and your brothers, conspiring with the court of your legitimacy.

You felt guilt bubbling up your throat as the dull ache in your core settled in, your centre stinging with discomfort from every movement.

You slid down the stone wall, tucking your knees into your chest and cried.

What was wrong with you?

You wished to be back on Dragon Stone, far away from here, and to have never been reunited with your estranged family. You felt disgust blooming in your chest. You had just betrayed your family; your brothers.

What would they say?

What would your mother say?

What would your father say?

You could never tell them. Guilt ate at you from the inside.

How could you have let that happen?

More importantly, why did it feel so good?

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs

[hydrobes]

Oh to be fucked by dottore and pantalone

I like the way you think Anony ;)

I saw this just before I clocked into work today and it was on my mind for the entirety of my shift.

So here’s a dirty NSFW fic because I was just itching to write and I’m also horny as hell for these men right now too ;)

Pairings: Dottore & Pantalone x GN!Reader

Warnings: Threesome, rough sex, dom!Dottore, dom!Pantalone, sub!reader, unprotected sex, spanking, oral (giving), choking, degrading names, reader doesn’t say much for obvious reason, reader’s kinda a slut but that’s just how I’m feeling right now ;)))).

W/c: 1k words

Summary: You let Dottore and Pantalone have their fun with you in the Harbringer’s private leisure room at the palace.

a/n: there’s probably some missed spelling/grammar mistakes because I was just too horny whilst writing and proofreading this LMAO.

NSFW, 18+ content under cut, minors DNI.

“Mmn..” you moan beautifully as your wrap your soft lips around Dottore’s cock. The warmth of your mouth and the pumping of your hand up and down his length has him groaning unashamedly. You look up at him through your eyelashes as he gazes down at you with a cocky sneer, he laughs before speaking.

“You were right, Pantalone, (y/n) really does have the best mouth in the palace.” He mocks you whilst you kneel on all four on what is probably the most expensive ottoman you’ve ever seen.

“Be grateful I’m even tolerating you right now.” Pantalone ignored his words and instead offered him a fake smile laced with malice, he would rather have you for himself. But Dottore happened upon your little ‘tryst’ in the leisure room and you needily begged him to share you with the notorious Doctor.

Next time, he decided, he wouldn’t let you have your way and instead take you back to his quarters. Then there definitely wouldn’t be any interruptions.

“Ah-!” You choke a gasp as Pantalone glides his hand up your thighs, removing your pesky clothing so he can tease your core. Your desire burned in your stomach for him, for both of them, as your arousal leaked out of you.

He frees himself from his trousers, and rubs his lengthy cock against your dripping wetness. Coating himself more than sufficiently enough.

“I should really be offended, seeing you getting aroused so quickly for another man.” He smoothed one hand higher, squeezing your rounded ass before bringing his hand down on it in a quick, hard smack.

“Mmn-!” You try to gasp at the sharp pain, but Dottore keeps your mouth busy. He guides himself to enter inside you, pushing embarrassingly easily inside. You let out a muffled moan in delight as he sunk deeper, and deeper, burying himself to the hilt.

“But then again, a renown whore like you has had a taste of almost all the Harbringers at this point.” He snorted a laugh and brought his hand down once more, the smack jolting you forward. You whined softly at the degrading name, though it simply sparked your arousal more, and at the stinging sensation of his spanking.

“Almost all?” Dottore sounded impressed, as he was seemingly unaware of your apparently known loose nature. Pantalone replied with a simple hum of acknowledgment, he gripped your hips in each hand and began thrusting his hard cock in and out slowly.

“Hmm.. so what number am I?” He chuckled, you tried to pull back and remove him from your mouth but he gave you no time to answer.

“I didn’t give you permission to actually speak, whore.” He said lowly, his gaze taunting.

Instead he grips your hair with one hand, taking full control as he pushes and pulls you up and down his thick, hard cock. His other hand rests just under your jaw, squeezing your neck each time you take his length to the hilt.

“Mmph-!” you choke each time he does this, your hands grip at his thighs desperately, he had warned you he’d be rough but you didn’t quite expect him start so quickly. Saliva and precum leaked from around his cock, spilling down your chin and onto the cushion below.

“Sixth..?” He smirks. You can’t reply, only shake your head as best you can as tears prick the corner of your eyes as he continues to fuck your throat deeply.

“Mm.. seventh?” His sarcastic grin stretches wider as you shake your head again.

The pleasure to your core quickly started to build as Pantalone began to pick up his pace, jealous of your attention being else where. His deep strokes hit just the right spots, roughly knocking against the most sensitive parts inside you. You weren’t sure how long you can last between the two of them.

“Ninth..?” He throws his head back and laughs loudly as you give a little nod. “Why, I’m rather late to the party aren’t I?” He continues to laugh mockingly.

“Why did no one tell me sooner?” He faked a sad, hurt sigh. His fingers tighten around your hair, pulling almost painfully. Oh how much fun he’d been missing out on.

“Because who’d want to share such a skilled slut with you?” Pantalone shot back, it was bad enough that he had to share you at all. The two of them exchanged insults, and matched each other’s quickening paces. Thrusting back and forth between each other, their breathing and voices soon becoming heavy and full with arousal.

Pantalone toyed with your core, his fingers edging you closer to release as you tighten deliciously around his cock.

Then finally, after what felt like an eternity of having your guts and throat rearranged, the desire built up inside of you burst as you came suddenly. Dirtying everything below you.

Your face was a picture of bliss having finally orgasmed, your eyes hazy with lust and continued desire.

The two mean groaned almost simultaneously, burying their cocks to the tilt against your mouth and entrance. Their dicks twitched as they shot hot ropes of white cum into you, filling you up just like you wanted.

“Clean up every last drop.” Dottore order you, pulling away and finally allowing you to suck in needy mouthfuls of air. You quickly did as you were told though, holding onto his still hard cock and licking away each and every drop of cum.

“And no moving off my cock until it’s all settled deep inside you.” Pantalone laughed hotly, he ran his finger tips of over hot red hand prints on your cheeks from his spanking.

“Then we swap, alright?” Dottore smirked wildly, he couldn’t wait to take you from behind, to leave your hips bruised from his harsh grip.

A knock at the door and Pantalone replying with a steady “Enter.” brought some sense back into you.

“M-my lords.” The gunslinger who entered the room stammered, before composing himself. “Lord Jester summons you, the meeting has already started.” He keeps his posture steady but his eyes flick to you, still spit roast between the two men, every now and then.

His, and others, opinions on you mattered little, after all you enjoyed nothing more than being the personal favourite whore, no.. cum dump, of the Harbringers.

a/n: horny levels for these men; ♾. i would sell my soul for their dicks.

wish I’d made it a little longer now, I did originally plan on having Pantalone giving reader oral, another time perhaps.. ;)

[finelinevogue]

just george

summary - he will be the king to everyone, but to you he is just george

word count: +1k

a/n: first bridgerton fic but i just love george and his story too much to not post something!! i hate the ending but if you have any concepts send them my way xxx

Being in love with a man that is promised for someone else is the most devastating thing a heart can endure.

Especially when that man is the King of England.

King George has been King since birth and is the strongest, most bravest, man you have ever had the pleasure of meeting. He is kind, smart and beautiful. If only you could tell him these things to his face, but you have sworn to yourself that you must not let your heart show to him. 

It will only end in heartbreak.

For you are only one of the Royal housemaids. 

You were pulled from the workhouse at a young age and have grown up as George has. Even though you could never publicly play together, George always managed to find a way to sneak away into the gardens with you, or the castle turrets, to talk about the stars. 

It was only when Reynolds rushed into the room where you had been cleaning did you realise something was very wrong.

George hadn’t been seen all day, which was unusual, but you just assumed he had been visiting his mother or some other. It never occurred to you he might have run off because his new bride was arriving today.

“The King is missing.” Reynold’s speaks to Brimsely, but loud enough for you to hear. 

You carry on dusting, whilst trying to overhear their conversation.

“Since when?” Brimsley asks, trying to remain calm.

“Since this morning. No one has seen him and no one can find him.” Reynold’s stresses.

Even though you could not speak, you had a multitude of thoughts racing through your mind about where you knew George would be. George may live in one of the biggest estates in England, but if you properly know him and where to look then the palace grounds suddenly become quite small. 

You excuse yourself from the room, passing it off as a chamber pot break. The duo don’t even recognise that you’ve gone. 

Looking over your shoulder you check to see if there’s anyone behind you. You know there shouldn’t be, because this side of the castle is not well staffed. The King requires privacy in some areas of the castle, just for moments of quiet. You know this, because George told you when you initially started to sneak off together. 

Every time you sneak out you worry that you’ll get caught and that your life is on the line, yet every time George reassures you that nothing will ever happen to you. 

You pick up your skirt and run down the corridor, before stopping at a wooden door. Normally it is locked shut, but by the slight crack in the opening of it you know that you’re on the right track. You push it open, slide through, and shut it tight again. 

Then up the 168 stairs you go. Right to the top of the turret. 

As the stairway lightens towards the top you hear panting and panting. You run a little faster and take the stairs two at a time. 

Barging on to the top of the turret you find George pressed against the side of the wall, sprawled out low so no guards can detect him. His hand are over his heart as his chest heaves heavily. He is still wearing his night clothes - a basic black shirt that V’s down his chest and black trousers made of the finest linen. 

“George!” You whimper as you fall to your knees before him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I am here.” 

Your hands move to atop of his and his gaze moves from the heavens to yours. His eyes are bloodshot red from tears and his dark circles give away how little sleep he has had. 

“Y..Y/N...” He speaks so softly. 

“I am here. You are okay.” You nod your head at him confidently. “I am here.” You’ve found that with most of George’s attacks you have to reassure him that you’re there and that you have no intentions of leaving. Not that you would ever.  Even with his new bride, you will always be there for him still. 

“Y-You are h..here.” He breathes out jaggedly. 

“And you are okay.” You smile warmly at him, moving one of your hand up to cup his cheek. His skin is slightly clammy from his attack. His head moves to the side your hand had just touched his face, making you think he was having an episode of twitches, but instead his face melts into the touch of your hand. He closes his eyes as he nestles into the warmth of your touch.

“Th-ank you.” He says - like he always does, no matter how many times you’ve told him it is unnecessary.

You are about to tell him that he does not need to thank you, but he cuts you off before because he knows you well enough.

“As your King, you will a..accept my thanks without quarrel.” He opens his eyes to look at you and you press your lips together to prevent you from arguing. You nod softly and he thanks you again. 

“She is arriving soon.” You speak softly so you do not cause him to be anxious again. “But you do not have to meet her if you would rather not.”

George laughs with little happiness, “Nothing would make my day better than not having to meet her.” One of his hands goes to hold yours against his cheek harder - grounding him. “But I am the King and I have duties.”

“You come before them. Your health comes before–” You try to argue.

“No. No, Y/N, it does not.” George’s eyebrows furrow. 

“George, listen–”

“No, Y/N, you listen. I must meet this woman as she will be my bride and she will be your Queen. It is what I have to do.” George cut you off firmly, leaving you speechless.

You took your hands out of his and moved to sit back against the wall beside him, with a solemn face. You wished it didn’t have to be like this. You wished in another life George could be promised to you instead. Instead, he was already someone else’s. Not that he ever was going to be yours. 

“I wish you were not the King.” You say quietly, not even thinking he would hear you.

George reached for your hand and interlaced his fingers with yours. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried your best to make it look like you were okay.

“If I were not King a lot of things would be different.” He agrees with you.

“How so?”

“Well, most importantly, I would already be wedded to someone I actually love.”

Your heart dropped and your chest heaved a few heavy times as you tried to hide the heartbreak. You were foolish to think you would even be his second choice after his future bride.

“Is she kind?”

“Well...”

“I hope she is kind, George. I hope she loves you and all of you. I hope she farms in your vegetable gardens with you. I hope she is funny, because God do you need some laughter in this life. I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you and that she tells you every morning.” You quickly wipe some stray tears away from your cheeks with your free hand, “Because that is the kind of love you deserve, George. And no less.” 

“Well, apart from the fact you are not funny...” George says simply, like he has not just confessed his undying love for you out loud. 

You turned your head to face him with a shocked expression, jaw relaxed and mouth open. Your eyes watered and so did George’s. He granted you a small smile when he saw your cheeks blush.

You had no idea what to say. This could not be. He was bound to another bride. You would be committing crimes if you were to even be seen touching him as you are now, let alone accept him to be yours. 

“George...” You whispered into the wind.

“It has always been me and you. That will not stop with the arrival of my new bride. I may not be able to call you my Queen, nor my bride, but you will always have a place here,” he holds a hand over his heart, “A place that no one owns but you.”

“Oh why could you not just be Farmer George!” You laugh out a sob, tears running down your cheeks as he laughs at your reaction. It makes you want to cry all over for a positive reason. “Or even, just George.”

“I can be just George, just for you.”

[marvelmusing]

A Courtship of Shadows

Part Two

Pairing: Fae!Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Once again, Aleksander finds you at the edge of a ballroom and he finds himself more and more interested by you with every passing moment.

Warnings [18+]: mildly suggestive context (touching and Aleksander’s thoughts).

Word Count: 3K

My Masterlist • Part One

“That’s the third person she’s turned down.”

“There is no need to provide me with a running commentary, Fedoyr,” Aleksander remarks drily, swallowing down a mouthful of bitter wine as he keeps his gaze fixed purposefully away from whatever suitor had asked to dance with you.  

If Aleksander’s theory is correct, and you have Fae blood in you, the strangeness people had observed during your childhood is slowly shifting into an allure that the humans don’t quite understand, but they act upon it nonetheless. 

When he does risk a glance in your direction he observes the restlessness in your eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realise you are bored. He can’t help but think of you attending one of his own balls at the Grand Palace in Os Alta. He wonders whether you would find more enjoyment among his court. 

Aleksander finds you intriguing. 

Ever since you had admitted that your mother thought you were a changeling child, he’s been entertaining the possibility that you might be Fae. 

He knows you have been contemplating what he told you, about the possibility of two humans conceiving a Fae child. Though Aleksander doesn’t believe that was the case for you. He suspects that your father was Fae, or at least had some Fae blood in him. 

He finds himself wondering about how you know so much about the Fae - especially the rules and tricks his kind use against humans. Perhaps your father had taught you, before he died.

As his mind wanders, he imagines what your Fae form might look like. Whether you would have thick curled horns like Zoya, or delicate pointed ears like himself. Whether your teeth would sharpen, or if your eyes might change colour. 

Living in the human realm for your entire life, you have been deprived of the magic that lingers in the soil of Aleksander’s kingdom. The same magic that provides Fae food with its luxurious taste that drives humans to addiction, as well as connecting every Fae to the making at the heart of the world. 

Whilst you seem healthy enough, he can’t stop himself from thinking of the toll such a disconnect from the Fae might have taken on you. 

Without thinking, he moves towards you, leaving Ivan and Fedyor at the side of the room. The crowd parts for him easily, lords and ladies averting their eyes as he passes them. A few people stare openly, watching as he walks across the ballroom. 

He’s wearing one of his most formal keftas, black with shimmering silver threads woven amongst the dark embroidery. This morning Genya had tailored his features to appear more human-like, but the nobles around him still recognise Aleksander as something not quite normal. 

Before he can reach you, someone stops at your side. Whilst the man doesn’t turn to address you, Aleksander can see your mouth moving as you take a sip of your wine. There’s a minute wrinkle to your nose as you swallow the dark liquid and it appears you’re as fond of the royal vintage as Aleksander is. 

He might stand out amongst the humans, but Aleksander has always been rather gifted at blending into the shadows. As a result, he finds it easy enough to stroll lightly around the table you’re standing in front of and lean casually against a marble pillar nearby. The perfect spot to overhear your conversation under the guise of watching the crowd of dancers gathered in the ballroom. 

“I assume you have something for me,” you say quietly to the man beside you. 

“Not much, the usual trivial gossip, childish whispering really.” 

“Dimitri, I’ve been dealing with the rumour mill for years. Whatever you’re trying to protect me from, I assure you, I can handle it.” 

The man - Dimitri - sighs quietly and the two of you are silent for a long moment. 

“They think you’re involved with Lord Kirigan.” 

Aleksander hones in on the conversation immediately at the sound of the name he’s been using among the human court, to seem approachable without surrendering his true name. 

“Involved?” you repeat. 

“That you’re warming his bed,” Dimitri elaborates. 

“Oh.” 

Genya has a particular talent for collecting gossip and Aleksander had been made aware of these rumours only yesterday. He’s impressed that you seem to have your own system in place to remain informed of the rumours involving yourself. 

“You rarely address him during social functions aside from basic pleasantries,” Dimitri explains. “They think you’re hiding something.” 

“And yet if I spend any amount of time with him, then they will all think I’m conspiring with the Fae,” you remark with a humourless edge to your tone. 

“Well, you can’t blame them, given the rumours about your…”

There’s a sharpness in your eyes that has Dimitri’s words faltering and a shiver runs down Aleksander’s spine at the sight of you looking so commanding with a mere glance. The thought passes through his mind before he can stop it, you would make a formidable Queen. 

“Do you have anything else to say?” 

Dimitri looks down sheepishly for a moment. 

“I think you already know the rest. Kirigan accepted Rathbone’s invitation to Lichen Manor, though no one knows if he’s planning to join in on the hunting season.” 

“Not on Rathbone’s land, but he might accept someone else’s invitation.” Aleksander is intrigued by your causally confident answer, and luckily Dimitri seems equally curious for an explanation which you promptly provide. “Rathbone usually hunts deer on his land, and Kirigan won’t kill a deer, they’re practically sacred in East Ravka.”  

The nobles in this country always refer to Aleksander’s kingdom as the Fae Kingdom, refusing to acknowledge the historic connection between the two lands. To them, the human kingdom is the true Ravka. It’s clear you don’t share their views. 

He’s once again surprised that you know about Fae customs. Aleksander’s grandfather had created the first white stag many centuries ago, and since then his family has safeguarded the species. 

In the springtime, small white fawns can often be seen wobbling about the grounds of the Grand Palace as they take their first steps and Aleksander briefly wonders if you would like to see the deer for yourself one day. 

“I heard someone mention he intends to visit Hawthorne House while in the country.” 

Aleksander knows that Hawthorne is your childhood home, the family estate that your cousin will inherit when he is of age. 

“Mother will be pleased,” you remark.  

“Apparently she invited him.” 

“She’s most likely looking for an excuse to host a ball.” 

“You didn’t know?” 

A small sigh shifts at your shoulders. 

“No. We haven’t spoken for several weeks.” 

“Will you be spending your summer at Hawthorne?” 

“I suppose. It’s what I usually do, though if Mother is planning a ball I might make myself scarce.” 

There’s a small hum of acknowledgement from your informant. 

“Speaking of, I’d better move on.” 

“Thank you, Dimitri.” 

He nods politely and steps away from you without a word. 

Aleksander watches your expression change now that you are alone; exhaustion and worry touches your features as you pour another glass of wine. 

He decides to step out of the shadows, moving around the table and through a handful of people, to appear at your side. 

“Your highness,” you greet him with a polite bow. 

The corner of his mouth lifts in a slight smile as he inclines his head in acknowledgement. 

“Good evening, my lady. How are you enjoying the festivities?” 

He watches your expression falter slightly, that intelligent glimmer sparkling in your eyes as you attempt to work your way around his question. He knows you aren’t enjoying yourself but you won’t admit it. However, the Fae consider it impolite to lie, especially to someone in the nobility, or royalty like Aleksander. 

“Your pianist is very talented.”

He smiles with a nod of appreciation before he glances over at Marie as she sits at the piano placed in the centre of the king’s musicians, her fingers moving delicately over the ivory.

The quickest way to appease Aleksander is to compliment his people, and you appear to have noticed this. It both infuriates and enamours him. To feel so seen by a stranger is unnerving, but Aleksander can see an equal amount of you. 

He watches as you take a sip of your wine, and once again you appear to be as unimpressed by the taste as he was earlier. 

His thoughts move to the small basket that sits on a side table in the guest rooms he has been occupying whilst staying at the human palace. The basket which is filled with Fae food, in case of an emergency or a bout of homesickness from one of the younger Faefolk in Aleksander’s entourage. 

Now he imagines taking a luscious red apple, cutting a slice with his knife and holding the portion of fruit to your lips. The juice shimmering on your lips and the gleam in your eyes as you take a bite. The way your lashes might flutter as the pleasure sweeps through you. After all, you may have some Fae in you, but you’re still human. For now. 

He wonders how you might sound afterwards, whether your words would wracked with need or perhaps a dreamy sigh, as you thank him. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of you offering such power to him. 

Aleksander clears his throat, attempting to discard the distracting nature of his thoughts of you. Unfortunately, the noise attracts your attention prompting you to eye him expectantly and he finds himself at a loss for words. 

“I was considering stepping out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air,” he says with a small nod towards the french doors on the far side of the ballroom. “Would  you care to join me?” 

Being seen alone with you would do little to dispel the rumours surrounding the two of you, however, Aleksander cannot find it in himself to care for the opinion of the human nobility. He knows you would face more scrutiny than he ever would for such a thing, but he hopes he can one day convince you of how little these people matter. 

“I’d love to,” you say softly. The breath in Aleksander’s throat catches at the honesty in your words and his eyes remain locked on yours as he offers you his hand. 

When you take his hand with a small smile, he finds himself wishing you weren’t wearing gloves tonight. However, the intricate white lace of your gloves does allow him to feel the warmth of your skin and it looks far better on you than the silk often favoured by the ladies of the human court.

Delicate frills encircle your wrists, allowing him to admire the bare skin of your forearms, glowing under the light of the ballroom as he leads you towards the terrace. 

The cool evening air brings some clarity to Aleksander’s thoughts and he puts a respectful amount of distance between the two of you as he stands by your side in front of the stone wall that surrounds the terrace. 

Aleksander has always felt more comfortable during the night and it seems you favour the stillness too, though he will admit that his assumption is based on how alluring you look in the moonlight. 

Heavy black clouds gather ahead and Aleksander can taste rain in the air. A downpour is about to begin but he cannot find it in himself to draw you back into the light and heat of the ballroom, especially when you look so soothed by his quiet company - even as you engage in small talk with one another. 

“I hear you’re planning a tour of East Ravka on your return to your kingdom,” you remark lightly. 

He nods.

“As much as I intend to enjoy the summer here in West Ravka, I find myself longing to reacquaint myself with my country after such an absence.” 

“It is a good thing for a king. To love your country and people so much.”

“As an expression of goodwill, I extended an invitation to your king though he regretfully cannot join me for the journey.” 

“His health is of utmost importance at the moment,” you reply smoothly. Not a lie, though Aleksander can see that you want to soften the rejection. He knows why the human king does not wish to visit the Fae Kingdom, but he will accept your attempt at excusing your king’s superstition. 

“Of course.” 

He hesitates for a moment. He wants to study your reaction to what he is about to say. 

“He informed me that I could extend my invitation to anyone else in his court.”

As expected, you turn your head to face him. In the distance, thunder rumbles lowly. 

“Who do you plan to invite?” you ask quietly. 

He steps closer, watching as your gaze flickers from his eyes down to his lips. 

“There is only one person who I believe will appreciate my kingdom to the extent it deserves.” 

He is close enough to smell your perfume and he is thoroughly tempted to duck his head down and trace his nose over the hollow of your throat where he knows the scent will be the strongest. 

Then a raindrop falls on his head. Another falls on your face, tracing down your neck. Soon the rain is falling hurriedly and your lips part in surprise as the chill rises to your skin.

Aleksander relishes in the sweet scent of rain and he smiles at the refreshing sensation of rainwater soaking through his kefta. But he knows humans aren’t particularly fond of rain. 

“Perhaps we should return inside?” he suggests. 

He watches in awe as you shake your head, a wide smile illuminating your face. 

Aleksander stares as you tilt your head back, providing him with an exquisite view of your neck, bared so beautifully, and his eyes roam over the deep neckline of your dress as droplets of rainwater roll down your exposed skin. 

Saints, he should look away. 

He wants to ruin you. 

As your eyes flutter open, still heavy-lidded to protect yourself from the rain, your gaze meets his and Aleksander is certain his heart stops as you smile at him. He steps closer, his gaze acting as his hands wish to, scrambling over your form as the fabric of your dress clings even closer to your skin. 

Something in your own eyes darkens and Aleksander wants to devour your lips with a heated kiss and consume each and every moan he can wring from you. Instead, he traces his knuckles faintly over your cheek, following the path of a droplet as it runs down to your neck. 

His touch lingers against your collarbone, swiping his thumb over the water collected there by your chest. He can see the rapid movement of your breathing as your eyes remain fixed on him and the heat of your gaze warms his entire body, flooding down to the hardness growing beneath his trousers. 

He wants to take your hand and press it against the bulge there. He wants to see your lace-clad fingers roam over him. 

When he smooths his fingers down the length of your bodice, ignoring the swell of your breasts in favour of tracing a path down to your stomach, he sees you gasp silently. Lips parted, you stare wide eyed, and Aleksander wonders whether you have ever laid with someone. 

Fae do not wait for marriage and many engage in revelries that would cause a permanent scandal in the human realm. He wonders how flustered you would be, if you saw how brazenly the members of Aleksander’s court touch one another in public. 

A smirk curls at the corner of Aleksander’s mouth as he observes your sudden fixation on his lips. Surely you wouldn’t object to indulging in a kiss? Not when you look so willing. 

Just as Aleksander begins to lean in, you step backwards. 

“You’re right. We should return to the ballroom.”

He nods, though he doesn’t make an effort to move yet. 

“Not in this state. Might I suggest the door to the left?”

He nods in the direction of the door which will lead to a hopefully deserted hallway. Returning to the ballroom together, soaked through, will only lead to more rumours and Aleksander doesn’t want you to feel ashamed by what has just occurred between the two of you. 

He smiles softly when you nod in agreement and he follows you through the doorway and into the quiet hallway. Sounds from the ballroom are muffled but Aleksander can hear a waltz playing and people dancing to the tune. 

He watches as you remove your gloves, attempting to wring out the poor scraps of fabric. A shiver shakes your body and Aleksander notices the goosebumps on your skin as a few stray raindrops linger there.

Plucking out his handkerchief, he is pleased to find the fabric has remained dry enough to wipe the water from your face which he does so with a careful murmur, 

“Here. Allow me.”

There is no response from you as he continues to dry your neck, sweeping over your collarbones and dipping down momentarily to your cleavage. Without the all-encompassing patter of the rain, he can hear how your breathing shifts. He takes mental notes of the areas that make you inhale sharply or sigh softly. 

Once he is done, he hands you the handkerchief to dry any spots he may have missed. 

“Keep it,” he insists softly. 

The only form of thanks you offer him is a small nod of appreciation, but your lack of verbal thanks doesn’t vex him as it used to. Now, he wants to see how far he can push you before you thank him and is pleased every time you fail to fall into his trap because that alone means he must try harder at the next opportunity. 

He takes your hand, now bare as he had wished for earlier in the evening, and lifts it to his lips before he gifts you with a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He selects his next words carefully, hoping to leave a lasting impression on you. 

“I hope you have a pleasurable evening, little blossom.” 

He smiles as you blink dazedly at him, inclining his head before he releases your hand and heads down the hallway towards his rooms to dry off. 

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @housekeeperjjswife

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[vilixxr]

pretty bird

king!john x gn!reader. mdni.

tags: infantilization a little, one sided love, misinterpretation, savior complex, smut, implied painful sex, anal, worshipping, mans is genuinely insane sorry

notes: john saves you, a bird of clipped wings, and gives you a world for you to rule. a cage put on display, for the kingdom to worship, with you sat in the middle. is that not what you’ve dreamt of?

wc: 835

Imagine John as a king, and you a ruler placed by his side. Born from gravel, taken in to have you drowned in gold.

His pretty bird, his treasure, his beautiful bird. His beauty that he loved with all his heart. More than you could ever fathom.

He loves you, he saves your soul from the creatures dipped in sin, and you never had the capacity to love him the same way. Your mind could never wrap around it, he realized. You could never try and pretend to reciprocate his type of love, where he believes in "till death do us part", while you'll settle for a simple (unsatisfying) "I love you".

You may try, however. Pathetically, you reach a little further, set your hands upon his chest, kiss him with tenderness that makes him chuckle. You fold your wings in, but not enough, just to make up for the love you can’t form.

Oh, pretty bird. There’s no need for you to try. You have no need to do anything, as he'll hold enough love for the both of you.

In the deepest part of the castle, he twists every limb, makes you a doll that fits his desires. He beams at how lovely you look, and the smile he receives in return is something that he'd hang up on the wall. A masterpiece, lopsided. Much more realistic than your plastic smile. It's so utterly human, and you gave him the privilege to view it himself. Overjoyed, it almost looks like anguish. You have no need to know anguish any longer.

For he keeps you safe, encased in the walls of his palace. Safe from what lurked on the outside. Diseased, riddled with infection, that he could not bear to let drip against your warm skin molded by gods above. Those creatures were of no use to have around, and who has he to leave you tortured by the venom they spit?

“My treasure, my sweet,” he coos, atop the throne he worships you in. His hands cup your face in silent revelation, his fingers gliding against the lobes of your ears. The way you try to look at him, catch his eye with that look that screams of beauty, he knows that you feel so much safer with him. Your home, stocked with the world at your disposal.

Oh, he was ecstatic over your happiness. The genuine grin you had shown, whilst covered in lavish robes that mimic the gold that others would only imagine.

It weighs heavy against your body, though he doesn’t mind. All the more reason for you to stay. Weighed down by gifts that he spoils you with, while you whine as if you were drowning. The golden thorns you adorn shimmers against the sunlight streaming through the windows, and he beams as tears, crusted in silver, pool along your eyelids. So happy, you are brought to tears. So, so pretty.

“John,” you sob, while he licks at your skin that glows. He picks at his doll, plucks every stone placed so delicately on your face, and you shiver what he thinks is pleasure. He’ll puncture the skin of your neck, bite and claim, almost as if he were some animal, poised and powerful. He spans a calloused hand down your back, as he yearns to meld with your body, treat you as if you were one.

In the midst of the night, his goals do not stray. The love he makes holds you still, arms tied by his hands, while he treats you as gently as he can. Folds you over as he sinks in, jointed limbs shivering in what he would call pleasure. Beauty, in its rawest form, where he is the only viewer of desire. He kisses you slowly, lips pressed delicately against yours. He wants to swallow you whole.

Love, he gives you. You may whine, and whimper, but it is still love that he gives you. Wraps you both in the prettiest bow that you could not see, while you tug at the hands pulling on your hips.

It's not fucking, the way he his cock forms an outline against your walls, fit just for him, but love in its truest form. He would insist, while he perches you atop him, drown in your whimpers and whines that create such a harmony with the way skin slaps against skin.

And when he finally cleanses you of the leftover sin you carry, you look absolutely gorgeous then, eyes blurry with tears and stomach painted in white. He moves to bring you the comfort you are due, though there's nothing he can do but smile. You let out a cry, another soft complaint of pain, and he smiles in return.

Sweet bird. Don't cry. He vows to fill your enclosure with satin clothes and burnished pearls. Anything for you, so long as you keep your wings folding underneath you. He knows, you wish to fly, yet the sacrifice of love is much more worth it, no?

praying i did king price justice 😭

[10underoot2]

Episode 5 - Deeper Look

Hyun woo's journey till Episode 5 is finding love again. He had forgotten so much of what made him fall in love, who Haein was. He'd forgotten what made the marriage bearable. Who created that chasm between them? Who refused to accept help as he cried himself to sleep.

Hynwoo's the obvious victim of a vicious marriage but I think the real victim is Haein. Hyunwoo forgot that he loved Hae in. For him the hardship fell on him alone and it made him forget the women he loved was going through equal amounts of pain by losing their child. Feeling only he was being wronged, not scratching Hae in's surface deeper he grew apart. The family, the tears, the burden all came because he didn't have Hae in smiling at him at the end of the day. Hae in didn't change, Hyun woo did.

Hae in whilst collosal at showing it loved him and their unborn child very deeply. She never considers divorce because she never stopped loving him. I'm sure over the years she gathered crumbs of his love and those were enough for her because she knew he cared. And that was enough for her to continue her love in the same way she always had. Hyunwoo realises he loved her when he pretends to care again. He begins to realize again 'oh she's so pretty, oh she makes my heart pound still'.... And it scares him. When he runs away from kissing her in his room in the village he's not scared of her he's scared of the depth his own feelings. He'd never stoped loving her he'd just forgotten how and how much he actually did.

Hae in thinks he's afraid of her, then thinks no, he just doesn't care so the next morning she tries her best to let him know through her words (not her strangest medium mind) that she doesn't care either. She's heard his disregard for her and she's starting to think maybe she's wrong about his love for her. Her doubt's are winning. But then there in the rain she sees him holding an umbrella over her - half drenched in rain himself - and she doesn't understand. He loves her, she knows he does so why won't he love her? It's so confusing. He's selfless in love and for Haein actions have always spoken louder so why didn't he come closer last night?

For Hyunwoo though, words have always spoken louder. He's the one who hears first and notices actions second. For Hyun woo the it moment is when he hears her real thoughts in an interview she gave months ago (before she knew she was dying, when he was seriously considering divorce knowing that nothing could save his marriage). She said she wanted to talk, eat, walk and chat with him *everyday day*. He rewatched it because he couldn't believe it. She's never said it to him. It's been a long time since he's seen/heard her that soft. But they live together so why haven't they been doing all this? And it still doesn't hit him why until he gets to Germany.

Hae in was angry with him, thinking he didn't care as much when she left. She had sensed doubt and she wasn't going to string him along for anything. So dejected when she's at the palace she's essentially there because she's missing him and the time they were really, truly in love. When she was confident he loved her.

And what better way for him to start than to show her he cares. He knew her enough to realize she would not have worn comfortable shoes and brings the shoes to her, all the way from Korea.

When she says they're luring in tourist by saying you'll have no worries and tears he's quick to tell her that's exactly what she did to him. He proceeds to tell her 'now that we are married I should be there for you, especially in times like this.' The way he says it it's like a plea.

Translation: Please let me be there for you.

But her response is the light bulb he's been missing all along.

'Did I ever ask you not to be by my side? I wanted you to be by my side. I never wanted to be alone, ever.'

Translation: You don't need my permission. You misinterpreted my silence. You were always supposed to be by my side.

It's so accusatory in the saddest way possible that it hurts.

Hyunwoo left her alone when she needed him. When they both needed each other. She never pushed him away she just couldn't talk about her emotions but his _action_ (to move out of the bedroom) made all the difference in her perception of them. He realizes in that moment this is beyond just her illness, this is about their loss 2 years ago. And it's painful for him to realize that the reason he's been unhappy has essentially been himself all along. He told himself he couldn't love her. He thought her cruel. And he separated the most intimate space they shared. The single tears falling from both of them is them reliving the collective pain of the loss of their unborn child. They realise what happened. How they messed up. Hyun woo's sorry is truly genuine and deep. You can feel the weight of it being too much for him. Was he maybe also thinking about the actions he's made since episode 1 as well?

Hae in's love shines the most brightly in her words next. She's essentially telling him I think I've realized you're my miraculous way to live. You're the place that has no sadness for me. You're my home. 'Let's go home' has never been more literal. And this is when Hyunwoo really realizes ah this is how she used to express it. I see it - her love. It's been right here all along and now I'm being subjected to it again. And he can't hold it back any longer. He hugs her, let's his tears of pain and shame fall.

Their emotions during the hug are so telling. For Hyunwoo it's so much of oh God what have I done. I love her how did I mess up so badly? And for Haeina it's just relief. She has him back. The Hyunwoo who promised to be by her side, who loved her: he's right there. He's in her arms embracing her.

And then as soon as he can goes in to close the deed he had hesitated in just a few nights before. His heart now allowed to love Hae in again. His mind now able to comprehend her love for him.

And essentially I think this is why the divorce sucker punched Haein so bad. If her disregard was betrayal for Hyunwoo, this paper was it for her.

[rikisakai]

BOW TO ME.

genre / content vampire king ! riki x wolf princess ! oc, born enemies, betrayal warnings death, torture, poison, blood, profanity sypnosis the werewolf princess sneaks into the vampire prince's coronation, who is unbearably charming and beautiful, but also her lifelong enemy, which is exactly why she needs to kill him. wc 4.5k

part one.

BOW TO ME.

Most people think only good things can be satisfactory.

But my folk? We know differently. The wolves know that even doing evil can fulfill their needs. Perhaps only that can.

We do not pretend to be good, but that does not mean we are not on the right side. Not everything is split into good and bad. Sometimes one side is bad and the other is worse.

Of course, nothing is right when you're monsters. Though if you have no other choice, none other than to spill blood, you stop caring about what's right and wrong.

Is that why I am doing this? No, not exactly. Not entirely. The more I think about it, the more I do realize I am doing this for no good reason at all, but justifying it by classifying it as revenge, to do justice for people I have never known.

As I said, I stopped caring.

He sputters, clumps of blood landing on the floor before me, leading him to cough even harder than before. My eyes are something he tries his best to avoid.

He has a nice face, attractive features. Pretty doe eyes. Like a deer. The kind that wolves chase. Also the kind that we enjoy seeing the light snuff out of. For now, though, he is only tied to a chair.

But most importantly of all: he is a vampire.

With tight ropes and cold, metal chains binding him to the stool and me—in front of him and ready to attack—it appears evident that he is not getting out of this room anytime soon. This castle is a fortress, and he is not finding a way out of it. Not with me guarding him.

Whilst he is not looking at me, he observes every obstacle in the room, everything that he believes could grant him an escape attempt. Even though I captured him and defeated him, he likely still thinks he's superior to me.

These vampires are always so overly confident, as though no one and nothing could ever cause real harm to them.

Even if something did. Me.

"Let me out. Let me out and we can talk. Promise. Just let me out."

A second long I let him believe I'm considering the offer, and then I shake my head with a pout. "I'd rather you talk just like this. You're comfortable, are you not? As much as you will get."

"Please, I beg you. I wasn't trying to—"

"No, no. You didn't try anything, I'm aware. Just that it was truly unfortunate for you that I happened to be in the area, looking out for the bloodsuckers. Unlucky."

He gasps as he starts to feel the fluid coating the chains. Poisonous for vampires, werewolf blood. Not just any. Royal wolf blood. Grunting, he struggles against them, giving up with a pained expression on his face when he figures out that even if he got out, it would be even worse for him.

Quickly, his desperate, whiny demeanor changes, and he gets agitated, pretty doe eyes converting into fury.

"You fucking wolves. Always messing with us. Think you're stronger. Think you're better. Catching me by surprise proved absolutely nothing. When I'm out of here, these chains and ropes, I'll show you what it means to have power. I'll fucking kill you."

Sighing, I shake my head, playing with the wooden stake in my hand. "A shame. I had wanted to do this the easy way. Now you leave me no other choice." With that, I take big, swift steps toward him, too fast to be of human speed.

The small glassbottle on the floor beside his chair would have been used once we needed to free him, to erase his memories, to leave a blank in his mind where his capture and his stay at the palace had been supposed to be. I guess I am forced to use it now.

Opening the lid, I tip the fluid down, just so it spurts right into his eyes, and he screams.

It is so loud that for a second, I wonder if I might have mixed up a banshee and mistaken it for a vampire, but then his eyes turn a dangerous shade of red. There it is.

"Fuck! I'll fucking rip you apart, bitch!"

"What were you doing in these woods?" I ask, holding his chin that drips with the poison. It only stings me partly, though I do not feel the pain.

For a split second, he blinks, like that event slipped his mind, even if it was where I captured him in the first place. So I remind him. "The blood forest. You were there. Heading toward the Nishimura Castle. Why?"

Agitation is not something I feel quite often, but I do now, when he does not answer me. "What were you doing? Answer me or I will make it so much worse." I squeeze his throat in my hand, and he chokes.

The shade of red that could be mistaken for blood in his eyes slowly turns white again, and his head tilts, somewhat in pride, but also in defeat. "The vampire prince will be crowned. Tonight."

And a smile sets on my face.

FOUR HOURS LATER.

I wonder what my father would have to say about this. The wolves, especially the ancient ones—which he is a part of—are not to be messed around with. It does not even matter that I am his daughter and of royal blood, he would fucking kill me if he knew about this.

Well, hopefully not literally, because by what I plan to do, he will know.

Smiling at those who smile at me and glaring at those who do not is no problem, but getting past any of them without getting squeezed to death might will be.

And in case they push and make me push back, they will know I am stronger, much stronger than the average vampire. I cannot forget that even if they were to attack me, I would always have an advantage even if I was standing before an equal, I'd still have a weapon against them, because one bite from me will kill any vampire.

With that, I decide to dive into the crowd, roaming my eyes around in search of the king and queen, the princesses and the prince. Soon-to-be-king. Or perhaps not.

Perhaps the wolf princess is here to cause havoc on the prince's coronation ceremony.

Facing the vast assembly of people, I recognize how unproblematic it was to slip in. Despite the crowning of the new monarch, the vampires are not capable to protect their king, who stands amidst danger, since he is not crowned just yet. That only further shows what we all know, which is that vampires are not meant to work in packs, unlike us wolves.

They are so easily fooled. Despite me undeniably standing out, looking lost and a little mischievous, they have no idea that someone that was not supposed to be here, actually is.

When I blend in, lifting my chin and following the vampires, I come to realize that I have arrived a little late. Either that or Heeseung gave me the wrong time on purpose, hoping something would come in my way and I would miss the ceremony altogether.

Without me killing him afterward.

Well, unfortunately for him, the prince stands in the middle of the chamber to my right, his quiet words echoing across our ears.

"My dear people, today, we gather to honor a joyous event, this ceremony marks a historic event in our kingdom's existence."

He seems everything but stiff, his confident tone bringing a grin to my lips that I hope is not suspicious, but when I look around I notice that no one is paying attention to me either way.

They are all looking at him.

And I cannot say that I don't understand it. It is not only that soon, he will be king, but also that he is charming. I will not deny that, because he is. Apart from his speech, the prince has an unforgettable face and has something so captivating about him that it is hard to look away.

"As I now stand before you, clad in this elegant regality, I feel the utmost sense of pride and responsibility for my role as the nation's new leader."

My eye roll is hard to contain, but I manage. A ridiculous sight, a vampire pretending to care about anyone but themselves.

"Many moments of struggle, strife, and heartache have brought us to this moment where I stand before you all."

I would not be so sure.

"However, I shall not attempt to walk this path alone. I shall have you all by my side, to guide me and support me, as I make this transition."

He says that with such certainty, as though he might actually care. I guess vampires can both deceive and be deceived.

"Us, creatures of the night, let us join hands and embark on this new chapter together, one that is full of unity and prosperity."

Vampires and unity cannot coexist. That is a known fact, yet they all nod and believe his words so easily that it makes me wonder if they actually brainwash their folk.

Even though we are enemies from birth, meant and trained to kill each other, we have never actually met.

My family has kept me hidden since I could think, so much so that people know I exist, but they do not know even so much as my name. Therefore, I never got to witness how the prince looked like, how he grew and how he ticked.

This might be the reason why. Now that I see and hear the lies they tell, all I want is to rip it apart. To my family, it is no secret that I am driven by anger and by revenge, perhaps part of why they were afraid to let me show myself in the first place.

Everyone moves at the same time, raises their glass filled with red fluid that leaves no room to question where it comes from. Perhaps a single human, too, lying on the ground with blood pooling around them. Picturing it makes me tighten my fists, and it is only then when I realize I have made myself become conspicuous yet again, since I am the only one that has no glass raised into the air.

Fuck.

Hungry vampire eyes staring at me from every direction, and I wonder if I have truly fucked up and they'll either discover I am an outsider—since I was not even smart enough to ask my captive how the ceremony was going to go and how to blend in well—or if I can get away with this. Somehow.

In the midst of the chaos in my own head, thoughts filled with rage and hatred that is all directed at myself for once, I do something stupid.

I glance at the vampire next to me, glaring in my direction, and that's how I make my choice.

Grabbing his shoulder, I bury my teeth in his neck, but I do not rip the skin from his body, instead, I drop his now passed out body to the floor and lick the blood on my lip, nearly throwing up bile. I grin as I stare at the bloodsucker folk, who I have just tricked into believing I sucked another vampire out.

They cheer for me. The unconscious boy on the floor is forgotten by all.

For a moment, I think all is right. I have managed to fool them, they believe me to be one of them and I have decreased the chance of them identifying me as otherwise.

But when I look at the new king, he is not smiling. He stares at me weirdly, but not suspiciously.

I decide one thing in that moment, going against myself: I will wait. Until the ceremony is thought to be nearly over, I will wait, patiently. And then I will strike.

THREE HOURS LATER.

By the end of the ceremony, there are dead human bodies on the floor, the lives sucked out of them.

It is nothing new to see corpses discarded where it will bother none, though I can't deny that right now, it bothers me more than it ever has, for a reason I can't say. I have always known vampires were cruel—no less than us—and yet, I want to make them all eat my poison.

Perhaps it is exactly that. Perhaps I do not want to find any similarities between us, because that would remind me that while we are enemies, we are also alike.

A fact that I wish was not true.

After having taken care of the man I bit—which translates to having put him into an unguarded basement and let him rot—I made it my mission to focus on the king, find a weakness of some sort, even if I am not certain if he is stupid enough to showcare vulnerability in front of hundreds.

When I found none, I found my familiar anger returning to me. Once I find it to be stronger, with more force, I smile, knowing what's to come.

The moon is visible from here, nearing a perfect circle, fully luminated from where we stand. Just a few more minutes, and there will be no one alive at this ceremony, and no one—not even the king—will be left standing.

"You do not seem to enjoy the ceremony, darling. What is it that you don't like?"

I spin around and am fairly surprised to see the king in front of me, confident in his stance and an arrogant grin on his face, as though he might not be the king after all, or as if I am his friend.

His use of the nickname "darling" has no effect on me, and whilst I cannot roll my eyes—since I have to pretend to be an obedient little vampire—I can make him see that his charm does not work on every woman he blesses with his presence.

Putting on my best pleased face, I smile warmly, hoping he doesn't see through me and that I can act after all. "Oh, worry not. I am enjoying myself a whole lot. I have been the whole day, seeing you has been a true blessing, my king." I bow slightly, and he looks at me oddly, which makes me question if they are ever this polite.

Another thing that would make me appear suspicious.

But he only tilts his head, seemingly not noticing at all, and inspects my face. His gaze wanders, curious. When his thumb touches my chin, I am astonished. I have to force myself not to shy away, because no other woman would. This is their king, and he is all too beautiful, not a single one of them would refuse this.

Even if, were the given circumstances different, I would use the opportunity to come closer and bite hard.

"May I ask what you are doing?" I try and keep my voice soft, but by the way he looks at me, my eyes froze into a hard glare. That doesn't stop him. He has never had anyone reject his advances, and it so painfully shows.

"You may tell me your name." Unlike my question before, he does not ask, he demands. Spoiled little prince. Or king. "And then I might tell."

I feel my body changing.

The blood in my veins is pumping faster, my heartbeat accelerates, my head pounds. It's happening, and he is standing right before me, awaiting me to answer him. Everybody is still here, no one has left.

The kind of perfection you only find in books.

Full moon. What a terrible time to be crowned, and even more so not to consider an intruder during it.

Grinning wide, I know I've won. "It is truely unfortunate that we didn't get to talk before this, otherwise I would have told you. A shame, really."

He frowns, not understanding, but when his eyes widen in surprise, I realize he must think I am about to leave. Without having answered him. It comes as a shock that his mouth turns downward, as though a little upset.

How different. At least the last lesson he ever got was that it was possible to be stood up, after all. After all, I am a great teacher.

I grab the little container in my jacket and gulp it down, reducing pain and duration of the alteration. Just a few moments after I fall to the ground, I will be killing everybody in sight.

"Do not feel bad, Zee, you will realize that monsters do like to kill." My father had told a thirteen year old girl, scared for her life when she had killed her first human, even if it had been in self defense.

"I will never be a monster, Dad. I will never enjoy taking lives!"

What an unfortunate turn things took.

The king stares at the bottle, recognition lighting up his face, and then horror. He is about to scream at me, since vampires don't take anything other than blood, and then he sees my eyes.

"You're a werewolf."

For a second, I feel dizzy, but the commotion around me is impossible to ignore. They yell, they screech, they call for help. If one werewolf is here, they assume I did not come alone. There is nowhere for them to go, though, not anymore. The doors are already locked, every single one in this castle. They will not get past them in time.

"Don't get me wrong, yeah? More than for myself, I'm doing this for my family, you know? To end all of the rivalry between yours and mine. I'm so fucking sick of being trained to kill you when all it took was one fool of a vampire roaming around my territory." I giggle towards the end, drunk on the feeling of my bones shaking in my own body.

He turns bright red. "You're their princess. You're the one they warned me about all my life." His fangs are visible now, ready to bite. But his bite is not nearly as deathly as mine.

"Truly a shame, perhaps we could have been something like friends in another life." I giggle once more as I say it, letting him know that I don't actually mean my words.

I do not expect him to retreat so suddenly when I fall to the floor, bones breaking. The last thing I see, really see, are his eyes contorting in fear.

I groan in pain, and for a split second, I do feel sorry. It has always felt like an obligation to kill him, like I never had another choice. And yet, he had a certain time frame in which he could have attacked me. But he didn't.

Perhaps he doesn't feel the way I do, forced, or he just does not want to destroy me.

It is truly a shame we are meant to shatter each other by nature.

"You're a dirty little killer. Like the rest of us. It's what you are, so why would you fight it?"

The next few seconds are a blur.

As is the next hour.

And the hours after.

When I wake up, everybody around me is dead.

I cannot differentiate the vampire and human bodies as they lie next to each other on the ground.

There is not a single soul I did not get. Everybody is dead. No one was spared, but I feel so empty that I cannot smile. I do not feel guilty, nor do I empathize with any of them, but the satisfaction that I thought I would feel is being ripped away from me.

I wonder if it kicks in once I see the king himself dead.

My clothes are ripped, but in the places to cover, there is still enough fabric so that I don't walk around naked.

I step between the torn up corpses, a blank look on my face. Searching for a certain one, I grow frustrated when he is nowhere to be found. Until I realize one thing: I have looked everywhere but the throne room, where I had last seen him.

Whilst I feel like I am in a hurry, I do not run. I walk calmly, since I have no time to lose. Arriving at my destination, my eyes roam around the room that seems significantly different and torn up since I have last seen it.

And then I find the boy on the floor.

And register the sick grin on his face.

"You missed. Killed anyone but me. You should've sharpened your claws, darling. Unfortunate for you."

He stands, and in my head, I'm going through all the ways I am going to kill him now. Stopping in front of me, he puts his hand on my jaw. There's that look again. The king stares at my face again, now I believe he might just be trying to memorize my features, but that would be so stupid that I cross that idea right out of my mind.

"I knew you couldn't be a vampire from the first time I saw you," he whispers, so low that it might have been meant to be a secret, even though no one alive is around to hear.

"You were too beautiful to be one of us."

I cannot believe he is telling me this. Especially right after I killed the entirety of the empire he was supposed to rule over.

"And you're insane. Like, real fucking insane. How do you not care about anything?" I do not know why I ask, considering I do not even care, but then I glare at his wicked smile and the way his eyes light up the slightest bit.

He doesn't answer. Not to my question, at least. "All of my life, I have been told the daughter of the wolves—yes, that's your title—was a weak, ugly and arrogant girl. And now, I find out she is powerful, flawlessly gorgeous and definitely arrogant."

Before I can interrupt angrily, he continues. "So can't I enjoy this? Our rivalry is definitely over now, anyway. You won. Boohoo for me. I never gave a fuck about being the king, but I do care about finding out your name."

His confession of not caring about being king catches me by surprise. I thought he had seemed quite happy and definitely in his element when he was speaking to his folk earlier.

I should be killing him. I should be shredding him to pieces. But something about him not caring about being enemies from birth even closely as much as I do makes the fight leave my body. I swallow. "Zee."

With an interested tilt of his head, he asks, "Zee? What's that short for?"

"For Zeve. Nobody calls me Zeve." I grow a little uncomfortable mentioning that detail, and he does take notice, and the silliness of this interaction catches up to me once again. Why am I talking to him like this is totally normal?

"Call me Riki. Or your king. Or just yours. Whichever you prefer." He winks at me, and I roll my eyes dramatically.

"Pleasure," I return in the most bored tone possible, which gives me a snort, "but I do have to go back, otherwise they will find me first. So, it was nice, I guess. Sorry for the mess." I turn around, not awaiting an answer, until I hear howling.

"For fuck's sake."

"Uh, I am guessing that's not too good."

I grab him by the collar, sneering whilst I drag him with me. "You're so fucking observant."

Riki actually takes it as a compliment, and his cheeks flush a little. Or is that why? "Well, thank you. You're so quick to fall in love, darling. Let me catch up and I promise, the love story will be epic."

"Funny you say that when you're the one that keeps flirting with me." I push him into another room, into a shortcut I found when I was snooping around the castle, and I am thankful that werewolves can see so well.

"You make it so easy."

I end the conversation by not replying, and don't even know why I am trying to protect him, since I am dragging him into what I believe to be safety, and that if I were to give him to them—the werewolves—they would give me everything I wanted.

My folk would fall to my feet. They would not only serve me, they would accept me as their queen. They would bow to me. The wolves would be mine. I would have my empire, right after I had taken his.

The thought crosses my mind and lingers.

"Lost in your thoughts? You thinking about me? About how attractive you find me? I can read your thoughts so well," he snickers, and I smile genuinely for the first time.

He thinks it is because of his teasing. Poor, naive little prince. Not enough to be king, after all. As I walk, I am content with my choice of not having killed him. That makes this so much more rewarding.

In that moment, I do not even think about the guilt that will strike my chest.

"Come, let's get you out, Riki."

My friendly tone surprises him, and he shows me a happy smile, so much so that it is nearly giddy. He does seem to grow attached to me, and I cannot say that it makes this easier for me to do. The guilt sets in.

He's the vampire king. I am the princess of the werewolves. We cannot coexist, cannot be friends, nor can we live even slightly friendly alongside each other.

We have been made to take. We are monsters. If he had gotten the same opportunity—the one that feels like a betrayal to me even if we are sworn enemies—he would have done the same. He would have taken everything from me, too.

Right?

So it has to be done. I have no other choice. That's what I tell myself as I step out the castle with him walking in front of me. Trees rustle, and I am not enough of a moron to think it is actually the wind.

I keep telling myself that as I kick him to the ground with force, which makes him stare at me in utter confusion, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off before he gets the opportunity.

"I have him! You can come out here, everybody else is dead!"

No other choice, as they come together in a circle around us, curious gazes turning into pure hatred when recognition hits.

No other choice, as I tell them that I caught him for them, like a trophy. The vampire king in possession of the werewolves. A victory that could never be forgotten, not in a thousand years.

No other choice, my mind tries to convince me when I tell them he is a gift, an offer, and most of all, a promise to enrich them with more if they swear to serve me and make me queen. My father looks so proud of his little girl, and he seems to not be able to wait to make me queen.

No other choice, when I tell them my only condition: keep him alive.

No other choice, once he is being dragged away and still screams my name for help.

No other choice, as he stops screaming when he realizes I was never truly on his side after all.

part 2 will be published soon.

© all rights reserved, rikisakai.

[maries-gallery]

What's your deepest desire sin for Rio GO

❦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ❦

OH MY GOD MICHELLE YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE A GAL HAPPY! Okay but I have SO MANY SINFUL THOUGHTS ABOUT RIO, so just going to share one of them <3

genre: nsfw, mdni

character: Rio Ortiz

warnings: fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, semi public sex, oral fixation, female bodied reader

banner by the lovely @/saradika

For more content like this, check the masterlist

Rio knows no one should be in this part of the palace at this time of day, and a spark of excitement courses through his veins at the prospect of letting the flames of your desire consume you both in the middle of the Benitoitian castle. Hidden in the dark corner of a corridor, your forearms splayed over the wall and his chest pressed to your back, lips trailing open mouthed kisses up your nape and along your throat.

He never thought he’d be this daring, this adventurous. But then again when it came to you he never failed to surprise himself, never failed to throw his fears and reason out the window if only it meant getting a taste of you. If only it meant he got yet another way of confessing his undying love for you. 

Sometimes it worries him, how much he wants you, how much he craves your warmth and touch. But can you blame him when you look so beautiful, so cute and so achingly perfect all the time? Even more so when lost in the pleasure he gives you. 

A cute mewl of his name slips past your lips as two digits dip between your thighs and tease at your wet entrance, collecting your sweet honey before sliding inside of you and thrusting in and out at a rhythmic pace. 

His heart flutters in his chest, the most precious of sounds. And he wants more, so much more of these pretty sounds, of these sweet little moans of his name. He just has to curl his fingers inside of you and stroke over your sweetest spot, a satisfied smile curving his lips as another breathy cry of his name falls from your kissable lips.  

“You’re so wet for me, so sweet and so warm… How can I ever get enough of this?” He whispers in your ear, a shiver running up your spine as his words have warmth pooling low at your core, heat tingling under your skin. 

“Ri-Rio!” Your teeth dig in your lower lip, trying hard to keep yourself from being too loud, reminding yourself that you are in the halls of the castle and that anyone could stumble upon the two of you. 

You don’t have to say anything for him to read your mind, after all your sweet Prince knows you like the back of his hand. And a dark part of him has to admit that even though he wants nothing more than to hear you, he’d be damned if the two of you got caught. If someone other than him had the privilege of seeing you like this, so vulnerable and tempting in his arms, features ridden with pleasure as you desperately try to hold in your voice. 

Fortunately he knows just the perfect way to keep your voice down whilst still giving him a taste of your pretty sounds. 

“Open up for me”, He demands, his voice smooth and warm as velvet, a gentle command that you cannot refuse. Your lips part, a muffled moan escaping you as he presses two fingers on your tongue and slides them in your mouth. “Good, now you can moan all you want for me, no one else will hear you. No one else but me.” 

His heart swells in his chest as you start sucking on his digits, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as you willingly take them deeper down your throat. Yet another reason for him to think you’ll be the death of him. 

Just the encouragement he needed for his thumb to draw tight circles over your clit and have the coil in your stomach snapping into waves of warmth that radiate through your limbs. 

“Cum for me, my love, I’ve got you.”

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